Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
He chuckled and walked over to her, tucking his finger under her chin. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. “You’re adorable. And you know I like taking care of you. Now, what do you need? How can I help?”
“Uh, can you open the other packets before I cut my finger off?”
His smile disappeared as he frowned. “You nearly cut your finger?”
“No.”
“Oh. Good.”
“I did cut it. Look.” She held her finger out without thought. Shoot, he didn’t want to look at her tiny scratch.
Well . . . it was possible it could get infected. Crazier things had happened, right?
But instead of dismissing her scratch as nothing, he took careful hold of her hand.
“Poor baby, you shouldn’t be using a knife without me. You could really hurt yourself.”
“I did really hurt myself.” She added a small whimper for good luck.
“Oh, Sugar Pie. I don’t like to see you hurting. Let’s see what we can do about it.”
Happiness danced inside her at his attention.
“Let me get my magical medicine bag.” He searched through his bag. “Ahh, where is it? No. No. Here it is.” He drew out a big wand. It had a glittery star at one end and different colored ribbons were tied along the handle, forming a kind of rainbow as they fell down.
“A magical wand. What does it do?” She gave it an awed look.
“It heals Littles boo-boos, of course. And it also protects them from getting hurt again. Like magical bubble wrap.”
“That’s clever,” she whispered.
“The thing is . . . I seem to be all tapped out of magic for the moment.”
“Oh no.” She wasn’t going to get any of the magical wand’s healing power? That was so sad.
“Hmm.” He tapped his chin with his finger. “But you have magical power, don’t you?”
“Me? Nope.” She glanced down at herself to see if she’d suddenly gained some. Was she sparkling?
Nope. Still just boring old Greer.
He looked her over. “I can see it even if you can’t. Here, I want you to try using the wand. Wave it around.”
She moved it through the air. “Nothing is happening.”
“Try again. And this time, you have to say the magic words. And believe in them.”
“What are the magic words?”
“Whatever comes to you . . . it’s your magic,” he told her.
“Okay.” She scrunched up her nose.
Believe in the magic. Feel the magic.
She actually did feel something moving through her, starting low in her tummy.
But maybe she just needed to pee.
Her fingertips tingled.
Ooh. Or maybe not. Now, what were the magical words? Probably something silly.
“Mimic-Moppet-Mommity-Moo!” she cried. “I spell you to fix my boo-boo!”
“That was perfect, Sweet Potato.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s still a terrible nickname.”
“Hmm. All right, I’ll try to do better.” His eyes danced with amusement. “Now, come here and let’s see if we can get that finger all fixed up.”
He had her sit on the bed, then he took her hand in his. A shiver ran through her at his touch.
Warm. Firm.
He placed a bit of antiseptic on the cut and blew on it gently.
“Do you think it’s going to get an infection?” she asked worriedly. “Will you have to chop it off?”
She knew she was being silly . . . but sometimes she couldn’t help but worry.
Instead of dismissing her worries as stupid, he gave her a serious look. “I’ll be keeping an eye on it to be sure, but I think we got to it quickly enough to stop you from needing an amputation.”
She heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”
He drew out some Band-Aids and laid them on the bed. There was a pink one with a unicorn on it. Another with a daisy. One with dinosaurs and one with a digger. Ooh, and one with a puppy. But she really liked the one that was a glittery purple color.
“Would you like to pick which Band-Aid you want on?” he asked.
“It’s really hard.” She moved her good finger along them. “But I want this one.” She pointed at the purple glittery one.
“Good choice. These are my favorites.” He was probably just saying that. But it still made her feel happy as he placed the Band-Aid over her scratch.
Then he did something that she knew she would relive in her dreams for a long time to come.
He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the Band-Aid. “And a healing kiss to help.”
She stared at him in amazement and hoped that he didn’t notice that she was frozen in shock.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” He cupped her face between his hands.
“Sorry . . . it’s just . . . I know it’s only a small scratch, but you still acted like it mattered. Like I mattered. When you could have just dismissed my pain.”
“I wasn’t acting.” He frowned down at her. “And you do matter. Anything that happens to you matters. Who made you feel like you didn’t matter?”