Most of the people gathered outside the main farmhouse had their attention fixed entirely on Thomas.
Hardly anyone noticed what had happened behind them.
Even the few villagers standing farther back who had seen Margaret grab Elena by the hair and shove her to the ground merely glanced in their direction.
None of them stepped forward to interfere.
After all, this was a Miller family matter.
It was not their place to get involved.
Besides, to many people in Oakridge Village, Elena had always been a slow girl who needed far more care than others her age.
Yesterday, she had been injured while delivering lunch to the fields.
She had fallen down a slope, struck her head, and developed a high fever during the night.
Thomas had been so worried about his daughter that he had driven to Greenwood early that morning to find a doctor and medicine.
And now, on his way home, Thomas himself had been in an accident.
Of course, none of this was truly Elena’s fault.
But there were always people who liked to connect one misfortune to another in the simplest way possible.
To them, this entire string of trouble had begun with Elena’s injury.
Elena had no idea what those people were thinking.
Even if she had known, she was in no mood to care.
She slowly pushed herself up from the ground.
Her body had not fully recovered, and she was far heavier than she had been in her previous life, making the simple act of standing much more difficult than she was used to.
Once she finally steadied herself, she looked down at the scrape on her palm.
Then she raised her eyes toward Margaret, who had already pushed her way closer to the front of the crowd.
Elena’s gaze gradually cooled.
Her second aunt clearly still thought she was the same foolish girl who could be shoved around without even knowing how to fight back.
Under normal circumstances, Elena would never have let something like that pass so easily.
But Thomas was still lying injured inside.
No one even knew the full extent of his injuries yet.
She was not going to start a scene with Margaret over something this small.
Still, choosing not to make a scene did not mean she intended to do nothing.
Elena brushed the dirt from her skirt, lowered her head, and slowly walked toward the crowd again.
To everyone else, she still looked like the same clueless girl who saw a crowd and instinctively wanted to squeeze closer.
No one noticed that when she passed behind Margaret, her steps slowed slightly.
Near the stone wall lay a small, round stone.
Elena lowered her eyes.
The tip of her shoe seemed to bump it by accident.
The stone rolled quietly across the dirt.
It did not go far.
After half a turn, it stopped directly behind Margaret.
Elena continued walking without even looking up.
As for whether Margaret stepped on it— that had nothing to do with her.
Margaret had noticed none of this.
She had originally been visiting an acquaintance nearby.
She had barely returned to Oakridge Village when she heard that Thomas’s wagon had overturned on the road back from Greenwood and that he had been carried home.
Margaret had always liked knowing everything that happened inside and outside the family.
The moment she heard the news, she hurried back.
By the time she arrived, however, the area outside the main farmhouse was already crowded.
She had finally managed to squeeze near the spare room where Thomas had been taken, only to find several village women blocking the way.
“Move aside.”
“Those in front, make some room.”
Margaret pushed at the people ahead of her, determined to get closer.
One woman turned and glared at her in annoyance.
Margaret ignored her.
She squeezed forward again, found that there was still no room, and instinctively stepped half a pace backward.
Her foot came down on something hard.
Before she could react, the object rolled sharply beneath her shoe.
Margaret’s body tilted.
“Oh!”
She lost her balance and fell heavily onto the ground.
The fall was not gentle.
Pain twisted Margaret’s face, leaving her unable to catch her breath for several seconds.
Worse still, when she fell, she had instinctively grabbed the woman standing in front of her.
The woman suddenly felt a sharp pull at her scalp.
“Ah!”
She cried out and immediately grabbed her head.
Someone beside her quickly steadied her before she could fall as well.
Once she regained her balance, she rubbed her aching scalp and looked down.
Her expression darkened.
Several strands of hair were tangled around Margaret’s fingers.
From the original Elena’s hazy memories, Elena recognized the woman.
Hannah Reed.
The daughter-in-law of the village butcher.
Hannah was well known in Oakridge Village for having a temper of her own.
If someone offended her, she could stand outside their house arguing with them for half the day.
Now Margaret had yanked out several strands of her hair for no reason.
Naturally, Hannah was not about to let it go.
“Margaret!”
She pressed one hand to her head and glared down at the woman on the ground.
“If you can’t stand properly, that’s your problem!
Why did you have to pull my hair when you fell?”
Margaret was already aching from the fall.
Hearing Hannah question her in front of so many people instead of helping her up immediately made her temper flare as well.
“Maybe if you hadn’t been blocking the way, I wouldn’t have fallen!”
Hannah stared at her in disbelief.
“You pulled my hair, and somehow this is my fault?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“Then don’t you know how to apologize?”
Their voices quickly grew louder.
The people nearby, afraid that they would start a full argument right outside Thomas’s room, hurried over to stop them.
“Enough.
Look at the situation we’re in!”
“Thomas is still lying inside!”
“If you two have something to argue about, do it later.”
Unfortunately, neither Margaret nor Hannah was the type to quietly accept being wronged.
Neither was willing to back down easily.
They did not actually start fighting, but they continued snapping at each other outside the room.
Before long, much of the crowd’s attention had shifted toward them.
Meanwhile, the person who had quietly caused the entire situation had already taken advantage of the opening in the crowd.
Elena slipped toward the doorway from the other side.
Dr.
Brown had already ordered most of the people out, so the room was no longer as crowded as before.
When no one was paying attention, Elena quietly stepped inside.
It was much calmer there.
Everyone kept their voices low as they anxiously watched Dr.
Brown examine Thomas beside the bed.
Elena did not move any closer.
She quietly positioned herself near the foot of the bed, using Martha’s figure to hide most of her body from the others.
Only then did she finally get a proper look at Thomas.
He lay flat on the narrow wooden bed with his eyes closed.
Some of the blood had already been cleaned from his face, but his skin remained frighteningly pale.
His breathing was steady enough, though obviously weak.
The wound near his temple had been cleaned.
His injured foot had also received basic treatment and was wrapped in clean cloth.
Dr.
Brown sat beside the bed, examining Thomas while asking George about how they had found him.
“Where did the wagon overturn?”
“On the downhill road near the river,” George answered grimly.
“He’d been thrown off the road.
The wagon was lying on its side nearby.
He was already unconscious when we got there.”
Dr.
Brown nodded and continued his examination.
His hands moved slowly along Thomas’s lower legs, checking for obvious swelling and wounds before carefully testing his knees and ankles.
With every examination, his frown deepened.
Elena remained silent.
Her emergency training from her previous life made her instinctively observe Thomas’s condition.
From what she could see, he had certainly lost a fair amount of blood.
But what concerned her more was that Dr.
Brown kept focusing on Thomas’s legs.
Were they badly injured?
The thought had barely crossed her mind when Dr.
Brown finally stopped.
He sat silently beside the bed for a moment, apparently considering how best to explain the situation.
Everyone in the room immediately looked at him.
George was the first to lose patience.
“Doctor, how is Thomas?”
Dr.
Brown raised his head.
“His life isn’t in immediate danger.”
Those few words visibly eased the tension in the room.
Martha had been covering her mouth with both hands.
The moment she heard that her husband’s life was not in danger, some of the tension finally left her body, though her tears only fell harder.
Agnes closed her eyes and murmured a few words of thanks to God.
Dr.
Brown, however, did not look relieved.
“He’s lost quite a lot of blood, and he’s very weak.
Someone needs to stay with him throughout the night.”
“I’ll leave some medicine here.
Daniel can come back with me later to collect what else you’ll need.
Prepare some warm broth as well.
Once Thomas wakes up, let him take a little at a time.”
George nodded repeatedly.
“All right.”
“As long as he’s alive.”
He looked at his unconscious son, then quickly asked another question.
“What about the rest of his injuries?
Is there anything else serious?”
Dr.
Brown did not answer immediately.
His gaze returned to Thomas’s legs.
The small amount of relief that had entered the room disappeared at once.
Elena’s uneasiness grew.
After a moment, Dr.
Brown finally spoke.
“Both of his legs are badly injured.”
Martha froze.
George’s expression changed.
Dr.
Brown continued, “The right leg is especially concerning.
I can’t tell yet whether the bone is completely broken, but there’s significant swelling.
And when I tested his responses just now, there was very little reaction.”
Elena frowned slightly.
Very little reaction?
If Thomas was still unconscious, that alone was not enough to conclude that he would never walk again.
She said nothing and continued listening.
Dr.
Brown was clearly unwilling to make such a conclusion either.
“With what I can do here, the best option is to stabilize both legs and keep the injuries from moving.
Once he wakes up, I’ll examine him again.”
George immediately asked, “Will his legs recover?”
Dr.
Brown was silent for a moment.
“I can’t promise that.”
The room fell quiet again.
Martha stared at him as though she had not understood.
“What do you mean, you can’t promise?”
Dr.
Brown looked toward Thomas.
“The impact was severe.”
“If these are ordinary fractures, proper stabilization and enough rest may allow them to heal.
But both legs have been injured, and I have no way of seeing exactly what’s happened to the bones beneath the skin.”
He paused.
“In the worst case…”
His voice lowered.
“He may have difficulty walking normally again.”
All the color drained from Martha’s face.
The tears Agnes had only just managed to stop immediately returned.
“My Thomas…”
She pressed a hand to her chest, her voice shaking.
George stood beside the bed in silence for a long while.
Finally, he asked hoarsely, “Both legs?”
“Both are injured,” Dr.
Brown said with a nod.
“But I’m not saying he’s definitely lost the use of them.”
Elena’s eyes shifted slightly.
At least the doctor was being careful.
He had not looked at Thomas’s injuries and immediately declared that the man would never walk again.
George seemed to seize on that last bit of hope.
“Then is there anything else we can do?”
Dr.
Brown did not answer immediately.
He lowered his head and began putting away some of the things he had used during the examination.
After a moment, he said, “If you can manage it, the best thing would be to take him somewhere larger.”
“Can they treat him in Greenwood?”
“I’m afraid Greenwood may not be enough.”
Dr.
Brown shook his head.
“It’s larger than the surrounding villages, but there aren’t many doctors there with experience treating severe bone injuries.”
“If you can take him to a larger city and find an experienced surgeon, they may be able to determine exactly how badly his legs are damaged.”
George immediately asked, “Can they cure him?”
Dr.
Brown looked at him without offering false reassurance.
“All I can say is that there may be a chance.”
“At the very least, his chances would be better than if he remained here with only the treatment I can provide.”
The room fell silent.
His words offered hope.
But for the Miller family, they also raised a very practical problem.
Money.
Transporting a badly injured man to a distant city would already be difficult.
There would be the cost of the wagon, lodging, doctors, medicine, and perhaps weeks or even months of treatment and recovery.
Every part of it would cost money.
The Millers were ordinary farmers in Oakridge Village.
More than a dozen members of the extended Miller family depended on Miller Farm and its harvest in one way or another.
They did not even know how much grain would remain after this year’s harvest.
Producing a large sum of money without warning would be nearly impossible.
Dr.
Brown had practiced medicine in the area for years.
Naturally, he knew the Miller family’s circumstances.
That was why he did not press the matter after explaining their options.
George stood beside the bed.
His rough hand slowly curled into a fist.
The faint hope that had appeared in his eyes when he heard there was still a chance gradually dimmed again as reality set in.
Martha sat beside the bed, her face pale.
She seemed to want to say something.
Her lips moved several times, but no words came out.
After holding herself together for the entire day, her body finally gave out.
Her vision darkened, and she suddenly slumped sideways.
Elena had been standing behind her.
The moment she saw Martha falling, she reacted without thinking and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Mama!”
With Elena’s current condition, supporting a grown woman was not easy.
Fortunately, Martha was thin.
Elena gritted her teeth and steadied herself, barely managing to keep Martha from falling to the floor.
Only then did Daniel react.
“Sister-in-law!”
He hurried over to help.
Together, they lowered Martha into a nearby wooden chair.
She had simply been overwhelmed by exhaustion and emotion.
After resting for a moment, her eyes slowly opened again.
“Thomas…”
Her first word was still her husband’s name.
Elena said nothing.
Standing beside Martha, she turned her attention back to the unconscious man on the bed.
She had heard every word Dr.
Brown said.
In the worst case, Thomas might never walk normally again.
But it was not certain.
And more importantly— there was still a chance.
The problem was that better treatment required money.
A great deal of money.
Elena lowered her eyes and looked thoughtfully at her scraped palm.
When she first arrived in this world, she had planned to learn more about her surroundings first and improve her life little by little.
Now it seemed she might not have the luxury of moving that slowly.
At least when it came to Thomas’s legs, time might matter.
She raised her head again and looked at the unconscious man on the bed.
Her expression gradually became serious.
As long as there was still hope— she was not going to give up so easily.