Six weeks later

 

Time passed with aching slowness.

 

Sara Beth scraped a pocket knife on the plastic handle of her wheelchair. She’d attempted whittling the hard material out of sheer boredom, but that hadn’t worked. She’d then determined to dull the heck out of the blade. Anything. Something. To keep her from the barn.

 

Footsteps thudded on the wooden slats of the deck at Rourke Ranch, announcing visitors to her chosen place of seclusion. Two intruders dared come her way. Ugh.

 

Sara Beth lifted her chin and tucked the half-worn-down blade into the side pocket of her chair. At least the stupid thing had pockets. One – just one – redeeming quality.

 

Rosie cleared her throat and rounded the front of Sara Beth, coming to rest on the wide railing of the deck. Smack in the middle of Sara Beth’s view of the plains and beyond that the river and trees.

 

Michael joined Rosie, clasping her hand in his as he snuggled close to her side. “How you doin’, Sara Beth?”

 

She redirected her gaze from the glimpses of waving grain between their shoulders to his face. Plastering her fakest-I’m-so-happy-I-could-puke-rainbows smile on her face, Sara Beth’s syrupy sweet voice dripped on the slight breeze swirling around them. “I’m just dandy, Michael. Thanks. What can I do for you both?”

 

Rosie bent at the waist to place herself directly in Sara Beth’s view. “Sara Beth? We know you’re not doing well.” She shook off Michael’s warning hand on her arm. Her voice rose an octave – okay, maybe two. “You don’t do anything but sit here and abuse your chair. I know it’s been three weeks, but come on, you have to try. You have to do something.” She slammed her hands on either of the armrests of Sara Beth’s chair.

 

Disbelief warred with anger inside Sara Beth. Like Rosie had stolen her ability to breathe, Sara Beth panted louder and harder as she allowed Rosie’s words to enflame her always-present anger. “What would you like me to do, Rosie? Go for a ride? How about a run? I know! I’ll help you plant things in your garden.”

 

Crossing her arms, Rosie stood, thrusting her hip out. “I’m sick of fighting with you. Michael and I just wanted to know if you needed us to wait until you got better for the wedding or…” She glanced at Michael as if seeking help on the phrasing.

 

“Or if I don’t think I’m going to get better?” Sara Beth adjusted her gaze to watch the roving winds playing in the leaves along the maple trees at the edge of the property line. “I don’t care. If you wait until I’m better, you’ll never get hitched.”

 

One more thing they’d be able to blame on her. Sara Beth could only imagine what they talked about when she wasn’t within earshot – which was all the time. They had to bemoan the fact that they had an invalid living under their roof. And the ever-present nurse who didn’t say much, even when sitting behind Sara Beth for hours on end.

 

“Are you even doing the physical therapy? He comes out but I haven’t seen you doing anything, like trying to walk or… anything.” Rosie checked her watch, turning to glance toward the drive. “He’s supposed to be here any minute. Are you going to sit there and do nothing again?”

 

But Sara Beth ignored her.

 

She just shut down. Three weeks of Rosie’s constant nagging had worn Sara Beth down and she slipped into silence when she was done with her sister.

 

Choking on emotion, Rosie coughed. “Can you talk to me? I need to know what you’re thinking.” And like every time when the sisters fought, Rosie started to cry.

 

Sara Beth rolled her eyes – the only indication that she even acknowledged Rosie’s presence.

 

Michael wrapped his arms around Rosie, but didn’t glower at Sara Beth or even look upon her with anything but pity which was worse than anything else he could have done.

 

They disappeared inside. Rosie’s hushed sobs carried them through the door until it closed.

 

“You can go, too. I don’t need anything more today.” She murmured to the nurse. Of course the woman wouldn’t go far, but she’d gotten used to Sara Beth’s need to be alone and often disappeared inside to keep herself busy.

 

After she padded off quietly, Sara Beth relaxed her shoulders. How could she tell Rosie that she couldn’t talk to her? Rosie wouldn’t understand anything Sara Beth was going through. Nothing. Rosie’s life was sprouting nothing but blooms – like their mother had always said. While Sara Beth’s had become overgrown with weeds.

 

Even her plans of searching out her half-sisters had been buried.

 

Hell, every dream she’d ever had had vanished along with her need for boots. Ugh, she wanted to kick something so bad. Feel the reverberation of the connection to her toes and up into her shin. 

 

She tucked a stray curl back into the sloppy bun she’d thrown her mass of hair into. The only thing keeping her even remotely interested in her hygiene was Johnny.

 

The achingly familiar sound of horseshoes on beaten down dirt announced his arrival like she’d conjured him with her thoughts. She couldn’t help but look for him. Happiness came easily and she brightened at his grin. “Hey, stranger. I hoped I’d see you before the therapist got here.”

 

“Your wish is my command. I’m right here.” He slid off the horse which Sara Beth avoided looking too closely at. Approaching the raised deck, he stepped up and swung himself over the railing, coming to sit astride it like a horse. His cotton plaid shirt clung to his shoulders and pulled across his back. “I don’t see the guy anywhere. Do you need to run inside and primp for him?” His teasing tone coupled with the shove to her shoulder pushed her irritation with her sister aside.

 

“No. I don’t have anything to primp for. He’s some guy from Missoula. Why would I… Um… I don’t really want… well…” Embarrassed that attention had been drawn to her lack of makeup or hairstyles, Sara Beth ducked her head. “Sorry, I don’t really like makeup.”

 

Johnny softened his tone. “Hey, don’t. You don’t need any of that stuff. Some girls shouldn’t leave the dark of a closet without it, but you? I bet covering up any of your natural beauty would have the opposite effect.” He flashed his best you’re-eating-this-up-and-you-know-it grin.

 

“Oh my word.” She scrunched her nose and pushed his knee. “Thanks, that’s nice of you. Whatcha doin’ today?”

 

He braced his arms between his legs and leaned forward, the movement enhancing the triceps line along the backs of his arms under the shirt, pulling the shoulder seam tight to the round angles of his muscles.  “Roping? I think we’re going to try training some more horses this afternoon, but Michael hasn’t said for sure one way or the other. He disappeared around lunch and I haven’t seen him since.”

 

The hat brim pulled to the middle of his brow enhanced the strong curve of his jaw. Sara Beth shook her head. “That Lisa chick was an idiot. She lost quite a guy.”

 

He waved her comments away. “Now, you’re embarrassing me.” He glanced toward the barn. “Why don’t you come down and see the new foal today? He’s gorgeous. Michael said he’ll be a gelding and perfect for riding.”

 

“Not yet. I’m not quite ready.” Crunching gravel under large tires saved Sara Beth from answering further. A newer Ford F250 pulled up the drive. A tall, well-muscled, of-guaranteed-Nordic-descent, man climbed from the cab. He reached into the bed of the truck and withdrew a large exercise ball as well as some brightly colored bands.

 

Sara Beth muffled her groan but not enough to keep it from Johnny.

 

“What’s wrong? Aren’t the sessions helping?” He studied her glare. “Seriously, Sara Beth. Talk to me. Are they helping?”

 

She looked down her nose but avoided his gaze. “I don’t know. I make him stay right here while I go take a nap.”

 

Johnny’s lips parted but before he could reply, the new arrival hailed them from the drive. “Sara Beth! I brought you a surprise.” The therapist’s booming voice irritated her. Everything about him was designed to get attention.

 

Dismounting the railing and jumping down to the ground, Johnny tipped his hat as the physical therapist crossed the grass to join them. “Mr. Jensen.”

 

Slapping Johnny’s shoulder, he laughed. “Please, Johnny, I want you to call me Lou.” He flashed his teeth and then dismissed Johnny as he turned to Sara Beth.

 

Clapping his hands together for one great big thunderous effect, Lou pressed his lips tight. Lifting a finger into the air, he almost shouted. “I think I know the problem. You haven’t been anywhere but that chair. You need to get out of it.” Long strides around the side to the steps up and then clomping across the deck, Lou reached Sara Beth’s side in record time.

 

He stooped, sweeping her into his arms. Shaking his shoulder length blond hair out behind his shoulders, he flexed his muscles like he considered himself a younger Fabio.

 

Unprepared for his cavalier attitude toward her situation or even her personal space, Sara Beth squeaked, immediately tightening what muscles she had control over.

 

“It’s okay. Let’s just move around a little bit. See what we see.” He stomped around the deck, not breaking a sweat or even breathing different as he carried Sara Beth’s full body weight. “I think, Sara Beth, you’ve lost weight. You’re eating, right?”

 

“Yes.” Sara Beth tried to relax her neck muscles, but nothing would cooperate.

 

Lou reached the full circle of the porch. Instead of returning her back to her seat, he climbed down the steps, as if she were nothing but a couple bags of groceries. “Let’s go look at some horses. They seem to be getting ready to train them. I saw a baby one not too long ago. We could go see if it’s still there.”

 

Desperation shot through Sara Beth. Until that point she’d been able to pretend boredom at any given moment, but with each step he took toward the barn, her ennui stripped away to leave the bare bones of her despair.

 

“No! No! Put me down. No!” She wiggled her upper body but her attempts were useless with her lower body unresponsive. 

 

He laughed. “You’re not strong enough to make me drop you, Sara.” Another step. Another.

 

No, she couldn’t face it in there. Not the horses, or the memories she was missing out on. No. If she went inside, she’d be forced to face what she’d become and… No!

 

Gravel moved under his feet. He’d reached the line where the hard dirt changed to cement. He’d be in front of the building in seconds carrying an extremely terrified Sara Beth.

 

She reached up, wrapping her fingers in his locks. “My name is Sara Beth.” And she pulled, and pulled, and pulled.

 

The man dropped her onto the ground. The impact jarred her, snapping her head back. Her teeth clashed together. Legs akimbo, Sara Beth tried to bring herself to a half-sitting position, but renewed pain in her lower back shut down her attempts to do much of anything.

 

Over her shoulder a flash of movement and a grunt caught her attention.

 

Johnny had moved fast, tackling Lou to the ground. Straddling him at the waist, Johnny pulled his fists back and swung bam, bam, bam into the therapist’s upper chest and face. “You sonuvabitch. How dare you?”

 

Sara Beth pressed her fingers to her mouth. She didn’t cry. Didn’t give into the fear that the tingling in her legs would be gone for good. Where had all the pain come from? Oh, man, the burning in her back…

 

Suddenly, Michael was there, pulling Johnny from a bleeding and moaning Lou.

 

Sara Beth tried focusing, but suddenly she was biting on her palm to assuage some of the pain in her back. The burst of copper-flavoring over her tongue had her closing her eyes for just a moment. She opened them again, searching for Johnny.

 

Was he alright?

 

Johnny and Michael stood, jostling back and forth as if connected with cord.

 

Rolling to his side, Lou spit blood onto the gray rocks. “I’m going to sue you.” He muttered like fear held him back from giving it his all.

 

Michael pushed at Johnny’s shoulder and shook his head toward the fallen therapist. “No, you’re not. Get your stuff and get off my property. If I have to explain to a judge what you just did to a trauma patient? You’re going to end up owing me money.”

 

Johnny abandoned the two men and knelt beside Sara Beth. He inspected her briefly before pulling her into the same hold she’d previously been in with Lou, only this time she didn’t feel uncertain.

 

For the first time, Sara Beth couldn’t help but notice how her fingers ached to brush back the hair on his forehead, and to blot away the moisture above his upper lip.

 

“Come on. Let’s check to make sure you’re okay.” He hoisted her higher into his arms, leaning her against his solid chest. “Michael, can you drive? We need to get her in to see Dr. MacAllister. He dropped her right on her back.” He pushed his lips to her temple. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

 

She nodded, trying to enjoy the care with which he handled her.

 

But Sara Beth suddenly doubted just how okay she was.