by Nancy Loyan
“Paul Kelly, Travis’ attorney and friend. I drew up the papers on this place, “he said, meeting her gaze. He reached out to shake her hand.
“Oh, Mr. Kelly,” Shelby replied, noting his firm grip.
“Please, just Paul. You are far more beautiful in person.” He released her hand.
“No need to flatter me.”
“Just being honest. I have to admit that when Travis approached me with this idea, I thought that you had ulterior motives. Boy, was I wrong. This place is magnificent. I know that he’s proud of you. Hell, I’m proud of you.” He waved his arms. “This is just amazing.”
“Wait until you take the tour.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“I have to thank you. Travis and you made this possible. For that, I will be forever grateful.” She smiled, meaning every word. Her life changed when Travis broke down in front of her property.
“Hey, I’m leading the first tour,” Kat interrupted. “Just rounding up the troops.”
“I have your first troop member,” Shelby said, tapping Paul’s shoulder.
Paul didn’t need convincing, from what she could tell. His gaze landed on Kat, and he appeared mesmerized.
“I was just talking about touring the place,” Paul said. “You have good timing, or ESP.”
Kat chuckled. “Just doing my job. I’m Kat Gallagher, Director of Development and Marketing here at Horsepower.”
“Paul Kelly, lawyer from Chicago,” he introduced.
“Interesting. We have more in common than being Irish. I’m from Chicago, too. Let’s go find some more troop members, shall we.”
“Lead the way.”
Paul walked away, disappearing into the crowd with Kat. Shelby sighed. It looked like Kat had a date for the evening. She sipped her wine, and continued to walk about the tent. She had never felt more alone than when in a crowd.
* * *
Dinner was served, and every course was as well prepared and presented, as she had hoped. Kat selected a prime menu, and arranged the seating. Shelby was at the main table, seated beside the Mayor, his wife, country officials, and local dignitaries. They were all older than she, and familiar with one another. Once again, she was the lone man out. She was gracious and conversational, being the perfect hostess. Yet, all she could think about was being nestled in her bathrobe before a blazing fire in her hearth, sipping cocoa, surrounded by her dogs.
Music signaled the dance portion of the evening. A band, complete with horn section, keyboard, strings, drums, guitars, and vocalists jammed popular hits from different eras. They were chosen for their diversity as a crowd pleaser. Couples filled the wood dance floor. Giddy laughter permeated the room. Shelby sipped coffee, observing, ever the wall flower.
Travis watched Shelby from the corner of his eye as he sat at a round table next to Penelope. Pen was absorbed in an animated conversation with his parents. Shelby appeared lost amidst the guests. She stood grasping her coffee cup, yet tapping her feet in tune with the music beat. She was too beautiful to be standing on the sidelines. The heels elongated her legs even more, and the silk floral fabric hugged her curves in all the right places. He remembered how he felt when he exited the van, only to see her in front of him. She was a vision with her hair curled and flowing over her shoulders, and the makeup that accented her eyes and lips. When she leaned over to retrieve the flowers, the hint of cleavage made his heart skip a beat. Damn, if his body could have reacted the way his mind did, he would have been in trouble. Even now, the mind was willing, the body not able. Being confined to a wheelchair sucked.
What he wanted to do was walk up to Shelby and ask her to dance. A slow song was beginning. Dancing would be an excuse to hold Shelby close in his arms, to touch her, to experience her. Right, if he could walk.
“Hell, I can still dance,” Travis mumbled.
“Huh?” Penelope turned to face him.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked, suspecting that she would decline.
“You can’t dance.”
“I’m going to dance.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Right.”
“Watch me,” he said, ignoring her raised brows and creased forehead.
He rolled his chair away from the table, pushing the power button to take him toward the dance floor. As he approached Shelby, she turned toward him with a gasp.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, looking up at her.
“Dance?” Her brows shot up, and she flashed a smile.
“Yes. I’d like to dance with you.”
She tilted her head, like one of her pups. “Okay, if you’d like.”
That was the answer he had been hoping to hear.
Setting her cup on a nearby table, she accepted his hand and went on to the dance floor with him. Couples moved to make room for them. He took her other hand, not sure how he was going to manage, but was determined to dance no matter what it took. Holding hands, Shelby leaned in, and led him in a back and forth motion. The chair went back and forth, left to right, and right to left, in a half circle, and back and forth in time with her hips. Her hair veiled her face and her glittering smile. Travis laughed. He didn’t get to hold her, but he was enjoying her company. He released her hands and spun the chair in a circle. She step-turned in a circle. He repeated the movement, and she followed him in sync. Her skirt swirled around her, as did her hair. He just wanted to stop, stare and breathe in her beauty, and did. Getting lost in the music and the moment, he didn’t notice the audience that had circled them. When the song ended, applause resounded throughout the tent.
“Oh, my,” Shelby said, raking a hand through her hair, while perusing the guests.
“That was fun. Thank you.” Travis thought that he had lost all sense of fun after the fall. Shelby proved him wrong.
“Hey, you’re a good dancer,” Shelby said in her smooth drawl, reaching out her hand toward him.
“So are you.”
“No Texas two-step for awhile, though.”
“One day, Shelby. One day.” He took her hand, turned it over, and kissed her palm. “Thank you.”
She curtsied. The crowd applauded some more.
If he thought that Shelby was special before the accident, he was now convinced that she was even more so after. He had the gut feeling that being a client staying at Horsepower was going to be a blessing in disguise.
* * *
As the evening wore on, Shelby sat at a table to rest. Her feet hadn’t been in heels for so long, they were aching. Shelby slipped off her shoes.
No sooner had she slunk into chair, Penelope joined her. The woman looked as fresh and perfect as she had in the beginning of the evening. Penelope sighed, placing her crystal-laden clutch on the table. Shelby noticed that she slipped off her sandals.
“By the end of the evening, my feet always hurt,” Penelope admitted. “I see I’m not alone.”
“I’m not used to heels. I prefer being barefoot.”
“Men dress for comfort, women for effect. It isn’t fair,” Penelope pouted.
“Who said life was fair?”
“It isn’t. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
Penelope seemed a bit pensive and serious.
“I was talking to Travis’ parents. I’ve been giving recent developments a great deal of thought. Since you’ve been there with me throughout Travis’ accident, and have such good common sense, I wanted to discuss his situation.”
“Travis’ situation?” Shelby asked. This was interesting.
Penelope nodded. “I know that we’ve been engaged. The wedding date has long passed, and the future is uncertain. Everything that I dreamed of has been put on indefinite hold. I‘ve wondered if it’s even possible to recapture hope for the future. The doctors are uncertain of Travis’ ever walking again. Yes, they act optimistic, but I don’t see any real progress.”
“They did say that recovery could take months, or even a year or more. Not enough time has really passed to see
real progress,” Shelby added. “These things take time.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know if I have the time to wait. I’m not patient like you. By now, I expected to be married, back from our honeymoon, living at our Lexington estate, with Travis running our racing program. I would oversee our social calendar and planning for our family. I’m not getting younger, and I would like to have more than one child. Travis isn’t even walking. He isn’t capable of producing children. He can’t run a racing program, yet alone a household. I don’t know if he ever will. I don’t have years to wait. Life goes on. I love him, I really do, but I don’t see a future for us. Our future died when he fell off that horse.” Tears were forming in her eyes. Droplets, eased down her cheeks. She tried to choke them back, but failed miserably.
Shelby reached out and slung an arm around Pen’s quaking shoulders.
“I know that I sound terrible,” Pen continued. “The wedding vows even say, “… in sickness and in health.” I feel like I’d be abandoning him, if I called off the engagement.”
“This is serious. You have to give this some serious thought,” Shelby said.
“I have. It’s the first thing I think of in the morning, and the last thing at night … and in between. I wrote the pro’s and con’s. I’ve even asked myself if I’m better off with or without him.”
“And?”
“I can’t live my life with an invalid, and an uncertain future.”
Shelby closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She had grown to like Penelope, and felt sorry for her. The decisions Pen had to make weren’t easy. She felt guilty. To her, Travis wasn’t an invalid. She saw a bright future when Travis recovered. She was certain that he would recover. Yes, it would take time, but she had time. She didn’t have an agenda. She wasn’t Penelope.
“How do you think Travis will take it when I tell him? I don’t want him to be defeated even more. He’s suffered enough, and I really don’t want to hurt him.” She swiped away her tears.
“Tell him the truth.”
“This is the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make in my life. I hope it’s the right one,” Penelope met her gaze.
“Only you, in your heart, have that answer.”
“Thank you.” Pen reached over, and they embraced. “You are a true friend.”
16
The party was over, and the real work was to begin. A new state-of-the-art facility was one thing, addressing the needs of clients was quite another. Buildings were not people. People were the focus. The advanced publicity, connections with medical facilities and doctors, and word-of-mouth seemed to be working. The schedule was getting filled with clients. The in-house rehabilitation lodge was filled. Employees and volunteers were working on the jobs they had been trained, and oriented to fill. So far, things were going well.
Shelby walked the grounds, inspecting the facilities and checking in on her staff and patients. When she walked into the indoor arena, with its scent of horses and earth, she was surprised to see Travis. He was engrossed in a therapeutic riding therapy session. Attired in a sweater, riding breaches, black boots and helmet, he looked like quite the equestrian.
A lift, a pulley system built into the roof of the arena, was lifting Travis slowly out of his wheelchair. Guided by two staff members, he was set atop Majestic, a gentle quarter horse trained to work with paralyzed clients. A male staff member supported his back, while he was positioned. Another staff member placed his legs at each flank. The adaptive pad and saddle were rounded in such a way as to catch the pelvis, allowing it to move and get into the swing of the horse’s gait. Horses mimicked natural limb movement. Riding helped with balance, flexibility and strengthened the lower body, all of the things a paralyzed patient needed to achieve. Shelby knew that there had to be a lot of trust involved when one was paralyzed when riding. She noted the intensity of Travis’s gaze, his tight jaw, and his tight grasp on the adaptive hand bar.
A staff member took the lead and walked ahead, the horse with Travis took one careful step at a time. For security, another staff member stood at his side. Getting acclimated to riding again after a serious accident took courage.
Shelby proceeded to observe, as Travis relaxed and settled in the saddle. Majestic was led into a trot. Encouraged to let go of the rail, Travis’s hands were free. He balanced his weight in the saddle. Was that a grin beaming from his face? She smiled. His first session looked like a success. Her cell phone rang, and she had to take the call. Leaving the arena, she was confident in Travis’s recovery.
Travis never thought that he’d never get on a horse again after the accident. Not that he was frightened. Waking up without feeling in his legs was a nightmare that couldn’t be topped. When he was set atop the therapy horse, he wondered how he could command it without sensation in his legs. The fear of a loss of control made his palms sweat, his hands tremble, and his heart race. He tightened his jaw wanting to appear brave. He had been a director of horsemanship and a riding instructor, after all.
As he was led around the arena, the musky scent of the horse was a bittersweet perfume. Memories of his life before the accident came back like a movie preview. His life had revolved around horses. Horses were his identity. Horses were his life.
When the horse was led into a trot, the freedom he had relished on horseback returned, as the breeze stroked his face. On a horse, he was mobile. He could forget his paralysis. He was free.
* * *
After his first therapy session, he was tired. He returned to his suite with a feeling of optimism he hadn’t had since the accident. For the first time, he realized that even if he never regained enough mobility to walk, he could accept his fate and be content. As long as he had faith and hope, he could overcome any obstacle.
He transferred himself from the wheelchair to his bed. He lay atop the quilt to rest. As he closed his eyes, his thoughts drifted to the conversation he had with Penelope before she left for Chicago the day after the benefit.
Penelope was never good at hiding her emotions. She sat across from him at breakfast in the communal dining hall, fidgeting and clearing her throat. He knew that she had something to say, and was afraid to say it.
“What’s on your mind, Pen?” he asked, getting to the point.
“I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking,” she mumbled. She took a sip of orange juice before proceeding. “Your accident changed many things, our future for one.”
“I know. Your dream wedding and honeymoon were cancelled. We’re not in Lexington as you had planned, and I’m not in any condition at the moment to run a racing stable.”
“Exactly.”
He knew that he had beaten her to the point. “And?”
“The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you, Trav. You will always be the love of my life. It’s just. It’s just …”
“You can’t live with an invalid?” He finished her sentence, knowing what she was about to say. Penelope lived in a perfect world, where everything was planned and had to be right. Being married to an imperfect man, he knew, would not fit her agenda. He had been expecting the moment.
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, Trav, our future together ended when you fell off that horse. I’m not good at care giving. I don’t have patience. I can’t wait to see if or when you recover, and return to normal.”
He chuckled. “I was never normal. Go on.”
“I have to break off our engagement.” She twisted the diamond ring off of her finger, and handed it to him.
“You can keep it.”
“Oh, no, I could never do that.”
He took the ring and looked at it. He remembered how embarrassed she was at its size. Size over quality had mattered to her. Now, health was more important than quality. Penelope lived a superficial life in a superficial world, he realized. The accident saved him from making the biggest mistake of his life. Yes, it was his life. Forget honor, family expectations, and tradition. Paul was right. Love is what mattered. If Penelope really loved him, she wo
uldn’t be leaving when the going got tough. The wedding vows, after all, stated, “In sickness and in health.” Apparently a vow she would have had a difficult time keeping. He placed the ring in his pants’ pocket.
Tears were streaming down her smooth cheeks, “I’m so very sorry.”
He met her gaze, taking her hand. “No need to apologize. We were just not meant to be. It took an accident to realize how very different we are.”
“I’m so sorry, Travis.” She patted his hand and rose from her seat. “Healing thoughts for a full recovery.”
“Thank you.”
* * *
When she left, he felt neither regret nor sadness. He learned a hard lesson. He wouldn’t live his life according to the expectations of others. Penelope, her family, and his family didn’t have control over his life. Here he was at an equine therapy center recovering from a severe accident. He was here alone. Alone. You were born into the world alone, and you died alone. The only person he had to be accountable to was himself.
17
As he did every morning, Travis awakened thinking that all was right in the world. He realized, though, that he couldn’t get out of bed, let alone move his legs by himself. The melancholy set in. He kept being told that recovery would take time. Progress was so slow that he often wondered if people were just saying this to give him hope, knowing full well that things were never going to get better. Yes, he was having patchy sensations in his legs, but feeling nothing else was something he couldn’t adjust to. Wearing diapers, no sexual arousal, and the lack of movement was getting old already. He wanted his life back. He wanted it now. Tears drizzled down his cheeks as self-pity took over. He didn’t want to live his life being a burden to others. Visions of his future were blurry.
He drew a deep breath for courage, as he did every morning. He knew that he had to face the day with hope. Each new day brought him a step further toward recovery. He had to assure himself.