Horse Power

by Nancy Loyan

  “Travis, please come back to me,” she whispered. “Come back to me.”

  Two months had gone by, and Travis felt guilty about not calling Shelby. She was still the first thing he thought about when he awakened in the morning, and his last thought at night. Yet, he told himself that he could not be part of her life as an invalid. She deserved much more than he could offer. Until he could walk to her, and make love to her, he wasn’t worthy of her.

  He and his father played pick-up wheelchair basketball at a local gym. They worked out, lifting weights together, and sharing the expertise of their physical therapist. Being with someone offered extra motivation. He wondered who was benefitting the most, he or his father.

  “You are really good maneuvering that wheelchair,” Mr. Harrington said, swiping the beads of sweat off of his brow.

  “I’ve had more experience than you.”

  “The rate you’re progressing, you’ll be out of that thing soon.”

  “I can hope.”

  Travis had been working hard at the therapy sessions, and exercising on his own time. With braces and a walker, he was gaining strength and mobility. Sensation was slowly returning to his legs, and he could wiggle his toes. Slow and steady progress. At least it was progress.

  “I’m proud of you, Son. Honestly, I didn’t understand what you were going through. Going through it myself, I can now relate. I’m impressed at how your hard work is paying off.”

  “You’ve come a long way, too.”

  The past two months had been full of progress and promise. His father was regaining his strength and coordination, thanks to intensive speech and physical therapy.

  “Watching you walk is my inspiration. I’ll be walking, too, one of these days.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Watching his father recover was motivating. His left side was improving. He could now speak without slurring his words, and his face was firm. In therapy, he observed the improvements.

  “It’s ironic that we would end up recovering together. It had to take an accident and a stroke for us to actually do something together. I feel guilty about not being there for you as you were growing up.”

  “It’s okay, Father, you had a business to run.”

  His father chuckled. “And it’s now running without me. I’m not indispensible.”

  “None of us are.” Travis thought about Culver.

  “ I apologize for not being there for you.”

  “You’re making up for it now. It’s never too late, you know.”

  His father patted him on the back. Was that a tear dripping down his cheek?

  “Travis, don’t be like me with your children.”

  “My children? If I have children.”

  “You will.”

  Travis had been thinking a lot about his future lately. Sensation had returned to more areas than just his limbs. For that, he was grateful. He now had a future.

  “Family is more important than a job. Jobs can disappear, and you can be replaced. You don’t want that to happen with your family. Be there for them.”

  Travis nodded. “I will. I really will.”

  “Now, why don’t you let your old man make a basket?”

  “Now you want me to cheat?”

  His dad winked. “One basket.”

  “Just one. My father taught me never to cheat.”

  * * *

  One thing Travis missed was horses. Often, his thoughts would drift to the indoor arena at Horsepower. He could visualize the tall, beamed ceiling, natural wood walls, and his regal mount. The earthy scent of the dirt floor, of leather and musky horse had been nature’s perfume. He could almost taste it. His parents’ stables were empty. After he lost his beloved horse, and moved out, his parents closed the barns. He missed them.

  Sitting atop a horse provided a sense of freedom. Even if he couldn’t walk, he could ride. The horse would provide the legs. He could canter, run, and gallop with abandon. The air would greet his face, and he would be lost in that moment of time. He would be the old Travis, the Travis who could walk and run, drive, and speed on his Harley.

  One day he would return to normal, and one day he would return to Horsepower. He was improving physically and mentally. He knew it. He did promise Shelby that he would return as a volunteer, and it was a promise he had been intent on keeping. He prided himself in keeping promises. One day.

  21

  Seated in her kitchen, Shelby was nursing a ceramic mug of herbal tea, the fresh scent tickling her nose, the taste of liquid comfort. The crunch of tires on the drive leading up to her home startled her. Who would be coming to visit in the early morning of Easter Sunday?

  Her dog pack began to bark, and bounded to the foyer in anticipation of an intruder or guest. Setting down her tea, she rose to follow them. Still in her cotton nightshirt, chenille bathrobe and matching slippers, she wasn’t dressed for company. She peeked out a window. A burgundy SUV rolled to a stop. The site of it made her stomach flutter. Intuition told her to be ready for a surprise.

  “Here goes it,” she told her pack, as they danced around her, as she walked to the foyer.

  Nudging them aside, she unlocked and opened her front door. A rush of misty cool spring air greeted her with a jolt. She stepped out on to her porch, closing the door, keeping the dogs behind. The truck’s door opened with a squeak. She drew a deep breath for courage.

  A man emerged from the driver’s side, and her heart skipped a beat. His height, athletic build, and dark hair reeked of familiarity. How could it be?

  “Travis?” The words escaped her mouth.

  As he turned to face her, she let out a shrill scream.

  “Oh my God!” She raised her hands to her face. “Travis?”

  He waved.

  She waved back, confusion muddling her mind. When he left, he was confined to a wheelchair. He couldn’t stand, as his mobility was limited, and he certainly wasn’t driving. As he approached, he was balancing with a cane, but he was walking.

  “Travis,” she muttered. The dampness of tears drizzled down her cheeks.

  She raced down the steps and out into the yard to greet him. Her slippers squished into the dew-kissed lawn.

  “Happy Easter,” he said, reaching out to embrace her.

  For a moment, she just stared into his eyes, questioning. He came back.

  She molded into his arms. “You’re here, and you’re walking. You’re actually walking.”

  He replied by lifting his hand to her neck, weaving it through her hair, and drawing her face toward his. His lips met hers and she melted into his touch and taste. She answered his kiss, as her surroundings faded away.

  When he drew away, she was jolted back to reality. “Seeing you, is the best Easter present ever.”

  “You think?”

  “Come inside, it’s chilly out here.” Though his kiss had warmed her.

  She took his hand and helped him up the front steps and on to the porch.

  She led him inside and into the foyer.

  He swept the space with his eyes. “I love this house. It has character, a history, and it’s so you.”

  “It’s home,” she said.

  Leading him into the kitchen, “I made myself some tea. It could use some warming up. Let me make you some.”

  “That would be great.”

  “You’re moving rather well since I last saw you,” she said. “I want to hear all about your recovery. It’s a miracle.”

  “It was a lot of hard work and determination.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I wasn’t going to come back until I could walk.”

  “Walking, or not walking, you’re the same Travis.” She met his gaze.

  He cleared his throat.

  “Come and sit.”

  As he sat at her kitchen table, he chuckled, setting down his cane. “This brings back memories of when we met. I was seated at this same table while you were making tea. I liked it then, and I like it now.”

&n
bsp; She glanced back while filling the copper teakettle with water. “I guess history tends to repeat itself.”

  “This time, in a good way.”

  Placing the kettle on the stove, she asked, “How so?”

  “My movement has been restored. In time, I’ll ditch the cane. I have my job back at Culver, and it’s as if I never left. This experience has made be a better instructor.”

  “That’s fabulous news.”

  “Hey, it’s spring break, and I thought you might be wanting a volunteer in your program. When I was a patient, I did say that I wanted to help.”

  “That you did.” She retrieved a box of tea.

  “Well, I’m ready, willing and able.”

  “So that’s why you came back?”

  “One reason. The real reason was you.”

  “Me?’

  “Yes, you. You’re the most amazing human being, and woman I’ve ever met.”

  She froze in place, two tea bags dangling from her fingers.

  “I’ve missed you, Shelby. I’ve really, really missed you.”

  “Yet, you hadn’t called in months.”

  “I didn’t know what the future held. As my health improved, I realized that I had a future.”

  She grabbed two mugs and placed the tea bags in them. “That’s great.”

  He rose and stepped toward her. Pulling her into his arms, he said, “Shelby, I wanted to a be a whole man when I returned to you. You deserve someone healthy, not an invalid.”

  “I told you that it didn’t matter.” His warmth and woodsy scent were intoxicating. The way he held her in his arms while standing was magical. She drew a deep breath for restraint.

  “It matters to me.”

  His lips captured hers, while he ran his fingers through her hair. She tingled at his taste and touch. It had been too long. This is the moment she had dreamed of, yet being stunned by his sudden appearance. She melted into him, the hardness of his erection startling her. She drew away.

  “I … I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Just say yes.”

  She shook her head, trying to sort out her confusion.

  “Say yes to what?”

  “To my question.”

  “You haven’t asked a question.” Why was her heartbeat quickening? Why was she trembling?

  “Will you marry me?”

  She met his gaze. If the eyes were the mirror to the soul, she was lost in the depths.

  “I … I,” she mumbled.

  “I love you Shelby. You’re the woman I want to share all of my tomorrows with. You’re the one I want to be my wife, and the mother of my children. I want to live with you in this old farmhouse, and work with you at Horsepower. Sure, I’ll keep my job at Culver, but we will work it out. I want you, Shelby.”

  She couldn’t control the tears rolling from her eyes and down her cheeks. “You want to marry me?”

  “I’d go down on bended knee, if I could. If I did that right now, I’d never get up.” He chuckled. He withdrew a ring from his pocket.

  “Give me your hand.”

  She placed her left hand in his. He slipped on the one-karat diamond circled by smaller stones. She gazed at the ring. It was stunning. Perfect in every way.

  “It’s beautiful,” she gushed, hugging him. “I love it. I love you.”

  Epilogue

  A stubborn horse walks behind you, an impatient horse walks in front of you, but a noble companion walks beside you.

  (unknown)

  * * *

  Exiting Memorial Chapel, with its commanding Tudor-Gothic architecture and carillon tower, Shelby grasped Travis’s hand. His grip was strong and competent. Just what a woman wanted in a husband. Yes, he was her husband. The marriage ceremony inside the cavernous sanctuary was intimate. When Travis recited his vows, he stared into her soul and burned a place within it forever. Placing the band on her finger sealed the covenant.

  She drew a deep breath of the floral-scented air. The breeze kicking up from the lake, facing them, billowed her antique tea-stained lace gown. The column gown with its flare hem accented her slim figure, and its frame neckline her curves. In her hand, she held a bouquet of yellow roses that matched the band in her upswept hair. As she stood next to Travis in his dark suit, she felt like a princess. Parked on the drive was her carriage pulled by four Friesian horses.

  “Shall we?” Travis asked, squeezing her hand.

  Members of his Lancer Platoon and Black Horse Troop, in full regalia formed two lines on the steps before them, cavalry swords at their sides. As Travis led her down the steps, the cadets raised their shimmering swords, forming an arched canopy over their heads. They walked under the drawn swords to the applause of guests.

  At the carriage, Travis helped her up into her padded seat, and slid in beside her. For one special day she was Cinderella at the ball with her prince.

  * * *

  The classical reception room in Legion Memorial Hall was decorated for the wedding party. Round tables were clothed in white linen, with burgundy napkins. The academy’s crested china, engraved crystal flutes, and gold tableware set the table. Centerpieces of ivy and yellow roses dripped from tall cut glass vases. A harpist, seated in a corner, plucked the strings of her ornately carved gold harp.

  Shelby stood next to Travis, greeting arriving guests. The receiving line included best man Paul Kelly and maid-of-honor Katherine Gallagher. The Harrington’s also stood in the line. Travis’s father leaned on a tripod cane. Seeing both Travis and his father standing, and walking made the special day even more memorable. She exchanged a glance with Travis’ mother, who nodded in acknowledgement.

  After all of the heartbreak, Shelby had finally found her happily ever after.

  Paul’s loud whisper caught her attention, “Hey, Trav, I never thought I’d see the day. You found that tree in the forest after all.”

  “Yeah, I did,” Travis answered. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  Paul turned to look at Kat Gallagher, and smiled.

  Where Shelby’s story began …

  Lab Test

  Samantha Evans was a dog. Quite a revelation for someone who was Homecoming Queen, voted Most Likely to Succeed, and named class valedictorian in high school. Incomprehensible for someone holding a college degree, Phi Beta Kappa key, and earning a six-figure income. Nevertheless, she was what she was.

  As Sam walked down busy Woodbridge Avenue, she exuded confidence. With head held high, long strides, a slight wiggle to the hips, she maintained a brisk pace. Her assertive attitude, though, was a façade. She was really clueless, aimless, and homeless.

  Inner-city Detroit was no place for a female alone after dark. Daylight was dimming as the sun began its descent over the deserted Tiger Stadium. Sam swallowed hard, a bitter mix of dread and fear settling in and knotting her stomach. Never had she anticipated such an end to her day. The day had begun as any other. Ordinary. She had grown to detest ordinary and the mundane repetition it brought. The words, “Be careful what you wish for” rang in her head. All she wanted was change. The change she was granted was far more than she had bargained for.

  Feeling the throb of a headache coming on, she shook her head. As she looked up she noticed a menacing policeman standing on the corner. Arms crossed, badge glinting in the waning sunlight, he grimaced. Sam ducked into a crowd of rush-hour commuters to hide from his icy glare. There was something about his uniform that instilled panic in her.

  The reaction of the people she brushed against didn’t put her at ease, either.

  “Get away!”

  “Shoo!”

  “Go home!”

  She darted into a grassy urban park and flopped under a tree in defeat. Rejected and dejected, she wanted to cry but couldn’t. With sorrowful eyes, she watched the commuters flee past her to parking garages and metro busses. She had nowhere to go. Driving a car was out of the question, as was riding the bus. She was stuck like an alien just
landed on earth. Sniffing the sweet grass for comfort only made her stomach rumble for food. Thirst was creeping up on her, too, as was exhaustion. If Samantha had thought she was lost when she had it all, she was even more lost having nothing. Sprawling back on the grass, she squeezed her eyes shut in hopes of awakening from a very strange nightmare.

  “The change you seek shall come in an alternate form. As a creature born of instinct, you shall learn the true meaning of life, happiness, and love. During this process of self-discovery, you shall create change in another as well as within yourself. Challenges await you. A man named Daniel is your destiny. Seek and you shall find. Trust and it shall be so.” The Gypsy’s melodic voice resonated in her mind, words that sounded more prophetic than true.

  Little did she know that trusting a fortuneteller would lead her to blacking out and awakening under a tree in a grassy park in urban Detroit. Instead of the black suit she’d put on this morning, she was covered in dense black fur, her arms and legs transformed into paws, and instead of the ability to scream in hysterics, she barked! The Gypsy had mentioned change, but she’d never warned of turning Sam into a dog. A dog! Weird things like that only happened in horror movies and not in real life. So Sam had thought.

  Someone whistling stirred her awake, and she sat up.

  She traced the noise to a man in a black trench coat who had just made the traffic light and now crossed the street with a spring in his step. Nylon briefcase swung over his shoulder, he pumped his fist in the air as if in victory.

  Sam saw him approach from her spot in the park. There was something about him that set him apart from other commuters. For one thing, he was alone. Second, he possessed unabashed confidence in manner and in the glowing expression on his face. Sam considered him handsome in a preppy sort of way. His almost black hair was short and neat. With a strong square jaw, cheekbones any woman would die for, and a sculptured nose, he epitomized Ivy League perfection. She squinted to get a better look at his eyes. They were dark but a mystery.