His Bundle of Love / the Color of Courage

by Patricia Davids

  “They belong to the college. We just rented them for the afternoon. They can stay here.”

  “Are you ready to leave then?”

  “I guess I am. Hey, didn’t you have a loaf of bread in your hand earlier?”

  He checked around. “It must have been sold out from under me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll have Sergeant Link’s wife bake you another one.”

  “You didn’t bake it yourself?”

  A bark of laughter escaped from her before she pressed her hand to her lips. “I made those oatmeal cookies. Baking is not one of my strengths as you can plainly taste.”

  He grinned. She didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed to confess her shortcomings. He admired that. “What is one of your strengths?”

  Wrinkling her brow, she considered his question. “Adaptability. That’s my strength. I lived in five states and four countries before I turned twenty. I’m not even sure how many schools I attended as a kid.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “It might have been worse if I hadn’t had Danny and Karen. Having Danny looking out for us made it easier to always be the new kids. That and the riding schools. No matter where Dad was stationed he always enrolled us in riding classes.”

  “Where is your brother now?”

  A deep sadness settled over her features. “He lives in Washington, D.C., but I wish he lived closer. Danny was wounded in action last summer. He’s a quadriplegic, now. He’s finally at home, but he still requires around-the-clock nursing care.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, do you ever get tired of moving around?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “No. Karen hated it when she was little, but Danny and I did okay. Maybe someday I’ll find a place that will make me want to settle down, but for now the army is my home.”

  He rose and grasped his cane. “That must be my cue to return you to your post.”

  She rose, too, and finished stuffing several empty boxes in a nearby trash barrel. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. I’m parked over there.” He pointed across the emptying parking lot to his white truck.

  Lindsey fell into step beside him, adjusting to his slower pace without any sign of impatience. The silence lengthened between them, but he didn’t find it uncomfortable. At his truck, he unlocked the vehicle with his remote key. She moved without hesitation to the passenger side, not waiting for him. He tried to hurry and open the door for her. She realized what he was doing when their hands closed over the handle at the same time.

  The softness of her skin caught him by surprise. The bones of her hand felt delicate and dainty beneath his palm. A warmth stole over him that had nothing to do with the sunshine beating down on them.

  She gave him a chiding look. “Oh, puleeze. I can get my own door.”

  At least she seemed unaware of the effect she had on him. He strove to keep his voice neutral. “Perhaps, but my mother raised me to be a gentleman.”

  “And my father raised me to be a grunt.”

  “A what?”

  “That’s slang for a foot soldier.”

  “It’s not a very nice term.”

  “It’s not always a nice job.”

  “In a test of wills, I’ll match my mother against your father any day of the week. They don’t make them any tougher than she is. Please allow me.” He nodded toward the door.

  Slowly, she pulled her hand out from beneath his. “You win. This time.”

  “Duly noted.” He pulled open the door and waited while she climbed in.

  Lindsey watched Brian move around to the driver’s side and took a few quick breaths to calm her racing heart. Never had the touch of a man’s hand unnerved her the way Brian’s touch did. The idea that she might be attracted to him was something she didn’t want to contemplate. Falling for him was a sure road to heartbreak.

  “Please, Lord. More heartache is the last thing I need,” she whispered under her breath before Brian opened his door.

  He stowed his cane on a rack in the rear window and started the ignition without a word. The silence that had seemed so comfortable only a few minutes before now seemed tense. They were only a few blocks from the stadium when his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his shirt pocket. Lindsey listened to the terse conversation with interest. After a few questions, he gave brisk instructions to the person on the other end of the line and then snapped his phone closed.

  “I’m sorry, Lindsey, but I have to get back to the clinic. I have an emergency coming.”

  “Don’t worry, I totally understand. I’ll call a cab or get a friend to pick me up at the hospital.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. It will give me a chance to spend a little time with Dakota.”

  He pulled onto a side street to turn around and in a few minutes they were heading back the way they had come. At the clinic, he hurried inside and met with several young men and one young woman. Lindsey knew they were the senior students on call for that day. As they walked toward the surgical suites, Lindsey found herself standing in the reception area where a young girl in a colorful Western costume sat with an older man dressed in jeans and boots. His cowboy hat rested on the chair beside him. The young girl was sniffling into a tissue. The man put his arm around her shaking shoulders and spoke to her softly. Lindsey couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was obvious that these were the people with the injured horse.

  Pulling her cell phone from her back pocket, Lindsey punched in Shane’s number. If he wasn’t free to give her a ride, she’d try Avery next. Shane answered on the third ring. She could hear the sounds of laughter and cheering in the background. “It sounds like you’re having a party.”

  “I’m watching a football game with some of the guys. What’s up?”

  “I’m looking for someone to give me a ride back to post.”

  “I thought Karen was driving you.”

  “She had a nasty headache so I sent her home early. I thought I had a ride, but it fell through.”

  “Bummer.” He groaned loudly. A chorus of groans from his friends was followed by one lone cheer.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  “Lee’s team just made the tying touchdown. If they make this extra point, they’ll move ahead at the half.”

  “Are Avery and Lee both there?”

  “Yup.”

  “All right, never mind. I’ll find another way back.”

  “Are you sure? Wow! Did you see that block? That’s the way we Texas boys play ball!”

  “Thanks, Shane. Enjoy your game.” She hung up without waiting for his reply. It was obvious she was going to have to take a cab.

  She walked up to the reception desk and asked the young man seated there for the use of a phone book. He had just handed it to her when Brian came back into the room. His face looked grimmer than she had ever seen it.

  He walked up to the tearful young girl and sat down beside her. Lindsey tried not to listen in, but she couldn’t help overhearing his words.

  “I’m sorry. There isn’t anything we can do for Storm. He is suffering a lot of pain. The kindest thing we can do is to put him to sleep.”

  The young girl’s heartfelt cry tore at Lindsey’s heart. Tears of sympathy pricked her eyes.

  Brian awkwardly patted the weeping girl’s shoulder, then rose to his feet. “You can come and say goodbye first, if you like.”

  As the pair went down the hallway, Brian stopped beside Lindsey. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

  “I was just about to call a cab.”

  “If you don’t mind waiting a few more minutes, I can take you.
I won’t be needed here, after all.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks. Why don’t you wait in my office?”

  “I think I’d rather visit with Dakota. Whenever you’re ready. Don’t hurry on my account.”

  “This is the one part of my job I hate.” He turned away and followed Storm’s grieving family.

  Lindsey walked down the hall and out into the large room that housed Dakota’s stall along with eight others. Opening the gate, she slipped in and circled his neck with her good arm. He swung his head around and nuzzled her side briefly before lowering his head and closing his eyes. Leaning against his warm coat, she breathed deeply, drawing solace from his familiar scent.

  “Dear Lord, offer Your comfort to those people and to Brian at this sad time. Let them know that You will wash away every tear and heal every heart.”

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood there before she heard Brian’s voice behind her. “There’s something about the smell of a horse that makes you think of hot summer days and shady rests under the spreading branches of a tall cottonwood tree.”

  “I love the feel of them,” she said softly, not looking up. “They feel like living silk over powerful muscles.”

  With each breath Dakota took, she listened to air rushing and rattling in and out of his lungs. His heartbeat was like a muffled drum, steady and strong, and yet so vulnerable.

  Brian stepped closer. As if he were reading her mind, he said, “They are so powerful. It’s always a shock when we see one get hurt.”

  She turned her face to look at him without letting go of Dakota. “Is it over?”

  Brian nodded. “He was a four-year-old quarter horse and according to his young owner, he had the makings of a barrel-racing champion. It was such a shame.”

  “What happened to him?”

  Brian moved up beside her and began to stroke Dakota’s face. “He suffered a fracture of the pastern much like this fellow’s. We see a lot of breaks like that in horses who make quick turns and sliding stops.”

  “Why couldn’t you do surgery on him?”

  “He started out with a simple break, but by the time the family got him here, he had done so much damage to the leg trying to stand in the trailer that we couldn’t do anything for him.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There was irreparable damage done to the soft tissue and blood supply by the broken bone fragments. If he could have been brought to us in an equine ambulance, we might have been able to save him.”

  “Do you have one?”

  “Not at present, but I haven’t given up hope. For the most part, you’ll only see them at big racetracks like Belmont Park or Santa Anita. However, I’m trying to persuade the company that makes them to loan us one to have on display during our conference here on January twenty-first.”

  “I remember seeing one on television when that Kentucky Derby winner broke his leg.”

  “They’re quite expensive. It seems that the board forgot to add the money for one to my budget,” he joked.

  “We could hold another bake sale. I would contribute more cookies.”

  “Another burnt offering?”

  Delighted to see the ghost of a smile on his face, she grinned. “I don’t always singe them. The oven in my apartment is fickle. Some days it gets hotter than others.”

  “I’m sure that is totally true.”

  “Speaking of hot things, Dakota feels warm to me.”

  “Now that you mention it, he does. I see that he hasn’t eaten much today. There’s still feed in his bucket.”

  “That’s not like him. He’s always ready to eat. Do you think he’s sick?”

  Dakota coughed deeply. Alarm raced through Lindsey’s body and her gaze shot to Brian’s face. He pulled his stethoscope from the pocket of his lab coat and moved to examine the animal. After listening to the horse’s chest, he stepped back. The frown she hated seeing was etched between his brows.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll need an X-ray to confirm, but I’m afraid he’s developed pneumonia.”

  “That’s bad, isn’t it?” She knew it was a stupid question the second the words were out of her mouth. Of course it was bad. Brian’s look of deep concern only confirmed it.

  Chapter Seven

  Over the next days Dakota’s life hung in a delicate balance. With his head held low he wheezed and coughed until Brian thought he couldn’t possibly draw another ragged breath. It hurt just to watch him try. Brian knew minimizing the animal’s distress was just as important as keeping him warm and well hydrated. Lindsey rarely left his side. Her presence seemed to bring the horse comfort. Somehow, her presence was a comfort to Brian, as well.

  On the second night, a traffic accident with an overturned horse trailer brought in three more injured horses and the hospital’s staff was stretched to the limit. With Brian’s permission, Shane and Avery brought in a cot and placed it in an empty adjacent stall. All the unit members, Karen and numerous students took turns staying to help care for the animal. Their dedicated presence seemed to be all that was keeping the tired horse from slipping away.

  Brian gave up going home and slept fitfully on the sofa in his office at night. During the daylight hours, the clinic operated normally and his surgery and teaching schedule kept him busy. At night, he rose every two hours to take vital signs and temperature readings looking for the least sign of improvement in Dakota. He could have left the horse’s care to the senior students on duty, but he didn’t. Dakota had become a special patient. Every four hours he gave the horse pain medication and every six hours he gave the massive doses of antibiotics needed to help stem the infection. In spite of all they were doing for him, Brian knew that it was Dakota’s will to live that would ultimately be the deciding factor.

  By the middle of the third night, he had given up urging Lindsey to rest. Instead, they worked side by side. While he administered the intravenous drugs, Lindsey held an inhaler over Dakota’s nose to make sure he breathed in all the medicine designed to ease his labored respirations.

  A few hours before dawn on the fourth night, Brian stifled a yawn as he leaned on the gate to Dakota’s stall.

  “You should go and rest,” Lindsey suggested as she came to stand beside him.

  “I’m all right, but I think your sister is out for the count.” He nodded toward the cot in the next stall.

  Lindsey looked over to see Karen had fallen asleep. “I can’t say that I blame her. I feel like taking a nap myself.”

  “You’re welcome to use the couch in my office.”

  “I may when I’m sure Dakota is doing better. What is his temperature now?”

  Brian entered the stall and took a quick reading. “A hundred and five down from one hundred and six point five. His fever looks like it’s breaking.”

  “Still, it isn’t normal.”

  “No, it’s not a hundred and one, but it’s a definite improvement.”

  “Thanks to you.” She entered the stall and held out a slice of apple. She was happy to see Dakota nibble it up.

  “You’re the one who has managed to coax him to eat. Nutrition is really important when a horse runs a fever.” He gave a weary sigh as he sank onto a bale of straw in the corner.

  “He’s just used to me, that’s all. Besides, apples are his favorite treat.”

  “I’ve noticed you slipping in horse chow and vitamins along with those slices.”

  “Do you think he is out of the woods?” She came over and sat on the bale beside him.

  “In my professional opinion, I think he is.”

  “Are you ever wrong?” she asked.

  “Frequently when it comes to people, but rarely about horses.”

  She managed a tired smile. “Are you saying you la
ck people skills?”

  He called up a smile to match hers. “Why do you think I’m a vet?”

  “You have been a blessing for us, that’s for sure. I hate to think of Danny facing Dakota’s loss on top of everything else he has been through.”

  Brian heard the catch in her voice and saw such pain on her face that he hesitated to ask any more questions. As if sensing his scrutiny, she glanced up and gave him a sad, sweet smile.

  He reached out and covered her hand with his own. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Danny was wounded while serving in Afghanistan. He singled-handedly saved the lives of two men in his unit when they were ambushed in a roadside attack. He risked heavy fire to pull those men to safety. Then, when a mortar exploded nearby, a piece of shrapnel hit him in the back of the neck and severed his spine.”

  “He sounds like a very brave man.”

  She looked toward the ceiling. “He is very brave. He’s facing his disability with a determination that’s amazing.”

  “It’s all about having the will to live.”

  She studied him for a moment and then asked, “What happened to your wife?”

  The question caught him off guard. He had never told anyone the details of the accident. For years he had kept those terrible hours and days locked away in his mind. He met Lindsey’s gaze and saw only compassion looking back at him.

  Sitting beside her in the dim building, he discovered a need to share his pain and his loss. “I had been working a lot of long hours that winter. I had only been out of school a year and I was intent on building up my practice. The Sunday before Valentine’s Day, Emily planned to go visit her family. She wanted to share the news about the baby in person. I should have let her go alone. I was dead tired. If only I had let her drive...” His voice trailed off into silence.

  “What happened?”

  “While we were visiting her parents, the weather started to turn bad. She wanted to spend the night, but I wanted to get back. I thought my practice couldn’t do without me for another day. I insisted we leave.” He grew silent as the memory of the terrible night fanned the guilt he always carried.