Brett waited for the panic to set in, the tears to resume, or the yelling. Nothing crashed, nothing got thrown. It was strange. Brett wrapped sandpaper around the leg of one of the chairs. Maisey had him help her with the bathroom, though it embarrassed her to have to ask, and then had him put her in her own bed.
He'd heard a sad sigh after he'd made sure she was comfortable and told Henry to guard. The dog had looked at him and Brett swore he could hear the dog thinking "well duh" as it watched him. Working on the table gave him purpose, it gave him a reason to be near the house without hovering. He couldn't believe how quickly she'd responded to normalcy but he was waiting for that moment when he'd have to come Andy or Anna to come sedate her.
His phone buzzed with a text message, 'Well?' Andy messaged.
'cried at some point, but was calmer tonight.' was the brief reply, 'in her own bed now.'
'so you were right.'
'it's only been a few hours. still waiting for the other shoe to fall.'
He put the sandpaper away when it started to get dark, brushed himself off and went in to clean up. Maisey was quiet but he didn't think she was sleeping. He forced himself not to check on her, continuing to try to force her to be the one to ask for things. Henry came to the door of her room to see who was in the house and then the little rust colored pup faded back into her room.
Brett stood under the water in the shower for long minutes, letting the heated water wash away the dirt and the stress. He'd never heard Tony talk about his mom as much as he had the other night: he had known, of course that she hadn't been a great mom but he hadn't realized why. Having been a part of Maisey's recovery he understood just a little of why Tony had shown up at the Bogs one year. Waiting for the next episode was a little like waiting for her to wake up from the coma, except when she was in the coma she wasn't going to need to be taken to the washroom or fed so he'd been able to go about his regular day. Already he'd turned operations of the ranch over to Travis: the contractors would be starting the next week and he refused to let Travis or anyone else make the decisions for the contractors and what they were doing on the ranch.
He lay on his bed after his shower one arm slung lazily over his eyes and forehead, forcing himself once more not to go check on Maisey. He was just starting to doze when his cell phone vibrated on the bed. He eyed it with one eye and picked it up with a sigh, 'I'm sorry to wake you but I need to go to the washroom'.
Rolling off the bed, Brett's feet hit the floor with a thud, he rubbed his eyes and padded his way to her room. He stifled a yawn and scratched his head as he walked into her room. "Brett!" came the startled cry and Maisey pulled a pillow over her face, "Get some clothes on!"
Brett looked down at her startled cry, blasted out a laugh and walked back to his room realizing he'd forgotten to put anything on after his shower. He didn't apologize. With a pair of shorts pulled on hastily Brett returned and picked Maisey up: she tried hard not to let herself touch his bare skin, Brett found it amusing as she shifted uncomfortably. "Maisey I've been in your bed," he reminded her, "it's not the first time you've seen me with no shirt on and it's not the first time I've had this little on in front of you."
"That," she emphasized the word, "was the first time you've ever paraded around the house like that!" Brett shrugged and left her in the bathroom, closing the door for privacy, "I can't unsee that."
Brett laughed, "It's not like I did it on purpose, I laid down after my shower and must have fallen asleep." He walked away to the kitchen to get some water and give Maisey some space. After a few minutes he went back, "Do you need more time?"
"You can come in," she said. When the door swung open she was holding onto the counter and standing, "I think I'm stuck," a tear trickled down her cheek unbidden.
Maisey cursed herself. She'd wanted to do something herself, it was such a simple thing to stand up, pull up her own pants but then her legs had cramped up and she was stuck standing there, waiting for Brett to return and hope she didn't collapse first. She didn't feel the tears that Brett was watching, she just felt useless.
"You will heal," Brett told her, "You need to be...."
"Patient?" she gritted her teeth, "I'm tired of being broken. Can you just put me in bed please." Her tone was hard.
Brett picked her up gently, conscious of her discomfort and set her back into her bed. This time she didn't comment on the fact that his chest was still bare. She tried to roll over but her legs cramped again, she hit the bed in frustration as she cried out in pain. Brett sat down on the bed beside her and lifted the nearest leg into his hands. She started to speak but he cut her off, "Just relax Maisey, this is something I did for you when you were in a coma, it helped keep your legs from seizing while you couldn't use them." She'd stopped trying to pull away and felt his fingers digging into her calf. She cried out in pain but didn't stop him.
Brett's fingers were gentle but the muscles were sore from not being used and from the cramping so it felt like a thousand needles in her leg. She grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut against the pain as much as to shut out Brett's bare chest. He was right, she had seen him like that before and they'd even shared a bed, but she just wasn't prepared for the full sight. It hadn't been his chest that had unsettled her as much as the rest of his nudity. A part of her rebelled at being unsettled, she'd seen enough naked or partially naked men thanks to Luke and the disaster that had become her life with him, but a part of her wondered if it didn't unsettle her because she actually like Brett despite all her setbacks and personal hang ups. Brett worked in silence, unaware of her thoughts and the feelings he was invoking in her with the tender, gentle actions.
The day had been trying, Maisey tried to distract herself from the feeling of Brett's fingers teasing her sensitive legs; the trip to Medicine Hat for assessment had been necessary but frustrating. The doctor said she was healing well physically but had told her that the only person who could change her emotional healing was herself. A part of her knew that information but loathed being told it. Then to come back to the Bogs and have had everything change was both a relief and upsetting. She had hated the hovering and that they had forced her into a medical bed no matter how much sense it made. She hated that decisions were being made for her. But to come back to things being almost 100% different had been a shock. Brett had sent them all away, but he was never there when she wanted him, and wasn't anticipating her needs the way he did before, he was always waiting. Her eyes snapped open with a glare, "You did this on purpose!" She accused.
Brett's fingers stopped and he looked up at her with his eyes questioning, "Did what?"
"All of it!" her tone was loud, "Sending away Anna and Tony, keeping Travis away from the house, staying just far enough away that you couldn't see that I was struggling and help without me having to ask. What were you trying to accomplish?"
Brett smirked, "That took less time for you to figure out than I thought it would." He went back to massaging her legs muscles, "I accomplished giving you back control."
She considered the evening and everything he'd done and he'd said and then in a fit of pique growled and threw a pillow at him. Brett laughed, getting off the bed, "If you don't need anything else I'm going to get some sleep." He set the pillow back on the bed. Maisey hesitated, he thought he saw a flash of fear in the shadows of her eyes but she was quick at masking it, "What do you need Maisey, you just have to ask," his tone was soft, cajoling.
"I'm scared to sleep," she whispered. A shudder went through her involuntarily, "I..." she stopped and stared into nothing.
"You," Brett prompted.
"I don't want to be alone," she whispered.