Chapter 19

Aweek later, Harper walked into her granddad's ward at Polson Hospital. The familiar smell of antiseptic and the muted sounds of medical equipment wrapped around her, making each visit a little less daunting than it could have been.

She paused outside her granddad's room, taking a deep breath. Seeing her grandfather so frail and vulnerable made her wish his life could be different. Before his first stroke, he was fit and strong, filling each week with lots of activities with his friends. Now, he could barely move.

He was propped up in bed, his gaze fixed on the window, but he turned as she entered. His smile was weak, but it lit up his features, warming Harper's heart despite the circumstances.

"Hi, Granddad," she said softly, moving to sit beside him. She took his hand, the one that still had strength, and squeezed it gently.

Benjamin's words were slurred and difficult to understand as he attempted to speak. He was trying so hard, but Harper could see how frustrated he was. "It's okay, Granddad. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

After a few minutes, he managed to tell her what was worrying him. "Can't... go home," he whispered, the words barely audible but heavy with meaning.

Tears pricked at Harper's eyes. Her mom and his doctor had talked to him yesterday. He hadn't made enough progress to allow him to return home, even with additional help. Harper's mom had tried to explain what would happen next, but her granddad had become so upset they'd stopped talking about it.

She brushed away a tear, determined to be strong for him. "Granddad, no matter what happens, we'll make sure you're cared for. You'll never be alone." Her voice was steady, but inside, Harper was reeling. The thought of her grandfather, the rock of their family, being unable to return to the home he loved was unbearable. But that wouldn't be the only difficult decision they'd have to make.

"Mom said she visited the Polson Health and Rehabilitation Center the other day. It sounds like a great facility."

Her granddad squeezed her hand, but his eyes held a deep sadness.

"I know," she told him. "It's not home, but it might not be for forever. They have a dedicated rehabilitation team. You'll work with physical therapists, speech therapists, and even occupational therapists to help you regain as much independence as possible."

Harper remembered how her mom had stressed the importance of finding a facility that could offer personalized care tailored to her granddad's needs. "They have a beautiful garden where you can spend time outside. You've always loved your garden. It might help you feel more at home."

Benjamin mumbled something and Harper leaned closer. She smiled when she realized what he'd said. "They definitely have roses. I saw them in the photos Mom showed me. And I heard the gardeners are always looking for someone with a green thumb to give them advice. I bet you could teach them a thing or two."

A faint glimmer of something crossed Benjamin's face—an emotion Harper hoped was a mix of acceptance and hope.

"Like it," he managed to say, his words slurred but filled with a longing that tugged at Harper's heart.

She kissed his cheek. "Then we'll make sure you meet the people who look after the gardens. We'll find places to sit where you can enjoy the plants and feel the sun on your face just like at home."

As Harper spoke, she did her best to paint a picture with her words, a vision of a future where her granddad could find peace and a semblance of the life he loved—even in the middle of his recovery. It wasn't just about the care or the facilities; it was about creating a space where he could connect with the things that brought him joy, where he could still find moments of happiness in the simple beauty of a garden.

"I've started the trauma course Zac recommended," Harper told her granddad. "Most of the lessons are online, but I'll see the other students tomorrow. You'll never guess where we're meeting?"

Benjamin's eyes widened, as if asking her where it was.

"It's here," Harper told him with a smile. "Every two weeks, we meet at a different hospital. The next one's in Billings. They opened the state's first Level 1 Trauma Center last year."

Her granddad looked worried. "Stay?"

Harper frowned. "Do you want me to stay with you in the hospital?"

The slow shake of his head told her that wasn't what he meant. "I don't understand, Granddad."

With even more effort, he tried to tell her what he was asking. "Home. You."

Harper bit her bottom lip when she realized what her granddad meant. He wasn't just asking about her temporary movements; he was probing into the future, into where she saw herself settling down. The thought of her moving to Billings or any hospital had stirred his fears of being left behind.

"Oh, Granddad," Harper said, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm not moving to Billings. I need to travel occasionally for the course but, for now, Sapphire Bay is my home. If you need to stay in Polson for longer, I'll get a job closer to you. But that's the only reason I'd leave Sapphire Bay."

A visible sigh of relief passed through Benjamin's body, his tension easing at her words. His grip on her hand tightened, a silent thank you for the reassurance.

Harper leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm doing this course to help people in our community. I want to make a difference, Granddad, just like you have. And no matter what happens, I'll never be far away from you."

A mixture of pride and gratitude flickered in Benjamin's eyes. It was moments like these, Harper realized, that grounded her. It didn't matter what job she had or what she did with her life. What mattered was her family and belonging to a community like Sapphire Bay.

She stayed with her granddad a little longer, talking about her plans, about the support group for caregivers, and relaying all the messages people had asked her to give him.

When the nurse came into the room to give Benjamin his medication, Harper knew it was time to leave. Her granddad was tired and having trouble keeping his eyes open. "I'll come back tomorrow, after my meeting," she promised him. "Be good for the nurses."

His slight nod was enough to let her know he understood what she'd said. She kissed his cheek and forced a smile. "I love you, Granddad."

Benjamin's eyes filled with tears as he tried to speak.

Gently, she rested her forehead against his. Through her tears, she whispered, "I know you love me, Granddad. Don't worry. We'll get through this together."

Even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, Harper said goodbye. As she walked away, each step felt heavier than the last. She couldn't help but glance back, memorizing the sight of him, hoping against hope that this wouldn't be the last time she saw her granddad alive.