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My hands tightened on the steering wheel. The memory of finding her in those woods, blood soaking through her shirt, still made my chest constrict. “Don't joke about that.”
“I'm not joking. I'm trying to keep you from hovering.”
I reached over and took her good hand. “Too bad. I'm hovering.”
She squeezed my fingers gently. “Your ribs must be killing you.”
“They're fine.” They hurt like hell, but she didn't need to worry about that. “Your mom's been cooking for two days straight. Pretty sure she's made enough food to feed half of Tennessee.”
“That's how she handles stress. When Randy broke his arm in eighth grade, she baked seventeen pies.”
“Seventeen?”
“We ate pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a week. Dad finally had to stage an intervention.”
I turned onto the familiar street. Cars were everywhere—Randy's truck, Seth's Camaro, two sedans I didn't recognize.
“The whole family's here.” Joy's voice went small.
“Want to go to my place instead?”
She shook her head. “They need to see I'm okay.”
I parked and came around to help her out. She moved slowly, protecting her injured shoulder.
“Let me help.”
“I can manage.”
“Joy.”
“I need to walk in on my own two feet.”
I understood that. I wrapped my arm around her waist, supporting her without making it obvious.
The front door opened before we reached the porch. Sarah Magill stood there, tears already streaming down her face.
“My baby.”
“Mom, I'm okay.”
Sarah rushed forward, then stopped, hands fluttering. “I don't want to hurt you.”
“A gentle hug won't hurt.” I guided Joy up the steps.
Sarah carefully embraced her daughter, mindful of the sling.
The house smelled incredible—fried chicken, fresh bread, cinnamon. The living room was packed. Randy jumped up from the couch. Seth stood by the fireplace, arms crossed. Emmie sat on an ottoman. Little Grandma occupied Sarah's chair, with Lettie and Great Aunt Pattie hovering in the kitchen doorway. Miss Laverne rose from the loveseat.
“Joy, honey. Sit before you fall down.” Miss Laverne's voice was gentle.
I lowered Joy carefully onto the couch. Randy knelt in front of her, taking her good hand.
“Hey, JoJo. Pushing yourself, as usual.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Seth moved closer, jaw tight. “You should still be in the hospital.”