Belle laid there while her father hurried to her side.  She was afraid, in his haste, he would fall too.  Then it would be her fault.  She held her breath until he was safely on his knees beside her.<br/><br/>She whimpered.  “Oh, Daddy, I am such a klutz.  How ever do you put up with me?”  She gritted her teeth as he moved her broken wrist slowly to her chest.  She was determined not to be a baby.  She felt stupid enough as it was.  “And here I was, telling you to be careful,” she said with a feeble smile.<br/><br/>While he was gone to get the first aid kit, Belle lay there and wondered if she had ruined everything with Diego.  She had a feeling her father would not let her out of his sight the rest of the day.  They had looked after each other for too long to stop now.<br/><br/>The anesthetic helped ease some of the pain as her father splinted the wrist, but when he sprayed it on the open wound of her finger, she grimaced as it burned.  When her father was ready to cut her with the blade, she turned her head away and squinched her eyes tight.  Thank goodness the anesthetic had numbed it some.  She gritted her teeth again and soon her father was wrapping it.<br/><br/>No painkillers?  She would have to be strong, then.  Even if she did feel nauseous.  She held her arm as her father directed her, took a deep breath, then told him she was ready.<br/><br/><br/>