His Bundle of Love / the Color of Courage

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His Bundle of Love / the Color of Courage Page 33

by Patricia Davids


  Lindsey glanced at him and her hand stilled.

  “What?” he asked when he noticed her staring.

  “Danny and I were doing this very thing the last time I saw him before he was wounded. It was only a few days before he shipped out. Neither one of us wanted to say goodbye, so we worked side by side grooming Dakota without saying a word. Danny loves this horse. I thought he was crazy to pay boarding fees and buy feed on an enlisted man’s salary, but he vowed he would trailer Dakota to any post in the U.S., including Alaska, rather than sell him. I think he would have taken him overseas if he thought it was safe.”

  “Karen said the same thing.”

  It was just the opening she had been looking for to ask Shane about his feelings for Karen, yet was it really any of her business? Because she cared for both of them, she took the plunge. “Shane, about Karen—”

  “Rest easy.” He cut her off before she got any further. “Karen is a wonderful person and as sweet as they come, but there isn’t anything between us.”

  “I only wanted to say that I wouldn’t object if there were. I think you’re a great guy.”

  “I think I am, too,” he agreed loudly. “Feel free to fix me up with any of your friends. This down-home Texas boy will show ’em a good time.”

  “I beg to differ,” Avery said from the doorway. “If any of your friends want to be treated like a lady, they need to go out with a gentleman like myself, not a hayseed cowboy.”

  Lindsey chuckled at their good-natured teasing. “I want to keep my friends, so I won’t let them go out with either of you.”

  Avery wrinkled his brow. “Ouch.”

  Shane looked at him. “Did she just insult us?”

  “Yes, but she did it with a smile. It makes me wonder if I should show her our new toy?”

  Glancing between the two of them, she pressed her lips together, then said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What toy?”

  Avery held up a small gray case the size of a camcorder. “Our new thermal-imaging recorder. This way we can keep an infrared eye on Dakota’s leg and report any hot spots or inflammation in his other legs before they get serious.”

  She ducked under Dakota’s neck and came over to examine the camera. “This is great. Did Brian send it over?”

  Shane shook his head. “No, your boyfriend didn’t splurge on this. This is army issue.”

  “He isn’t my boyfriend. How does it work?”

  “I’ll show you.” Avery flipped up the screen, pointed the camera at Dakota and a multicolored image of a horse appeared.

  “What do the colors mean?” Lindsey pointed to the screen.

  “Blue is cool. The warmer an object is, the closer to red it appears on the screen. See how the floor and walls show up as blue. Dakota is warmer than the floor. He shows up as greens and yellows.”

  “Except for that spot on his cast,” she pointed out.

  Avery moved closer. “Yes, he has quite a bit of heat coming from the lower portion of his leg.”

  “Does that mean there’s a problem?”

  “It means I’m going to give your boyfriend a call and have him check it out.”

  “Stop it. I told you he isn’t my boyfriend.”

  Avery closed the camera and winked at Shane. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

  * * *

  Brian finished rewrapping Dakota’s new cast with a bright blue elastic webbing designed to help prevent the horse from chewing on it.

  “That was a good call, Captain. If the rub had gotten much worse we could have had a real problem with a pressure sore.”

  “Private Barnes is the one who found it.”

  “Your men have done a good job of looking after this fella.” Rising from the short three-legged stool he used when he was out in the field, Brian patted Dakota’s shoulder.

  “We want to see him well and back on active duty.”

  “I hope that happens, Captain.” Putting his supplies back into his case, Brian tried to sound casual. “Where is Sergeant Mandel today? When Dakota was at the clinic she stuck to him like a burr.”

  “She had to report for physical therapy up at the hospital.”

  “Her arm isn’t worse, is it?”

  “No, but there is some concern about the damage to the nerve. It’s too bad, really. She and Dakota were to carry the U.S. flag in the upcoming Inaugural parade.

  “She mentioned that Dakota needed to be healed enough to walk three miles with a rider by January twentieth.”

  “Do you think he’ll be able to do it?”

  “Six weeks in a cast would leave four weeks for rehabilitation and strengthening. He might be ready by then, but it’s a big if.”

  “This ride is very important to Lindsey.”

  “Keep doing what you’re doing and he may improve enough to go. I’ll have some of our students check back in a couple of days to see how he’s doing.”

  The two men shook hands and Captain Watson walked back to his office. Brian began repacking his bag and supplies into the special compartments built into the bed of his truck. He had just closed and locked the tool chest when a dark blue sedan pulled up beside him. The door opened and Lindsey got out. It was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds.

  “Hi,” she said as she walked up to him.

  “Hi.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Oddly enough, she seemed at a loss for words, as well.

  He gestured toward her car. “I didn’t think you could drive.”

  “Avery suggested I get a spinner for my steering wheel. It works great, but I still overcorrect a little. How’s Dakota?”

  “Fitted with a new cast and doing fine.” The silence lengthened again. He closed the truck door.

  “So, how is Isabella getting along?” Lindsey asked quickly.

  “She’s good.”

  “Not making any more escapes?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I guess I’d better be going.”

  “Oh, sure. I didn’t mean to keep you.” She took a step back, uncertainty clouding her eyes.

  “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow to check on Dakota. Maybe I’ll see you then?” He knew he should send some of his fourth-year students, but he found he wanted the excuse to come back and spend time with Lindsey.

  “Great. I’ll look for you.” Her bright smile tugged at his heartstrings.

  He climbed into his truck and drove away. Glancing in his side mirror, he saw her watching him from the edge of the roadway. Resisting the urge to turn around and go back was the hardest thing he had done in a long time.

  * * *

  A week later, Lindsey was leaning against Dakota’s stall door when she heard halting footsteps on the cobblestones behind her. She knew who it was without turning around and her heart gave a happy leap. Brian had been out to check on Dakota twice during the past week, but at the last visit, he had pronounced Dakota well on the way to recovery. Since there wasn’t any problem with the horse, had he come to see her?

  “Good morning, Lindsey.” The sound of Brian’s voice sent a sparkle of happiness shooting through her veins. She turned to face him, hoping her delight didn’t show. “Good morning, Brian.”

  “How’s my patient doing?”

  “Getting better every day.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  He stopped close beside her, his arm just brushing hers. She didn’t pull away as she realized how much she had missed his company and how right it felt to be with him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I want to take a few X-rays to document the bone’s healing progress.”

  Of course he hadn’t come just to see her. Lindsey pushed aside the tiny disappointment she felt and resolved to be cont
ent with his company no matter why he had chosen to come. “Do you need any help?”

  “I will if you aren’t busy.”

  “I’m afraid I have a tour due any minute. I’ll get one of the other men to help.”

  “I’m not in any rush. What sort of tour?”

  “It’s a group of schoolchildren from Topeka.”

  “Is that why you’re dressed in your itchy-looking blues?”

  She brushed at the shoulder of her short cavalry jacket with one hand, then tugged the hem down as she stood up straight. “How do I look? Notice anything different about me?”

  “Is this a trick question?”

  “No, I got my cast off yesterday.”

  “I see that now. Good for you, but you still have the sling.”

  “I don’t have much feeling in my hand or arm yet. This way it isn’t dangling against my side.”

  “Nerves heal slowly. Give it some time. Even with the sling, I think you look very nineteenth century.”

  “That’s the idea.” She dusted the top of her knee-high black riding boots by rubbing them on the back of each pant leg.

  At the sound of a vehicle, she looked toward the parking lot and saw a small yellow school bus pulling up. She settled her cap snuggly on her head. “Pardon me while I see to our visitors.”

  Lindsey was proud of the CGMCG and she especially enjoyed giving tours to the dozens of Scout troops, grade-school classes and veterans’ groups that visited the post each year.

  Brian asked, “Is there any reason I can’t join the tour? I’d like to know more about your unit.”

  “I’d be delighted to have you, provided you help keep the kids in line. I’ve found that the boys especially tend to get rowdy when no one is looking.”

  She put on her best welcoming smile and walked outside. In the courtyard, she noticed a wheelchair lift being lowered to the ground at the back of the bus. A middle-aged man waved to her and instructed the group of ten-year-old boys next to the van to stop horsing around. The girls, standing off to one side, were giggling and whispering to one another.

  “Good afternoon, and welcome to the Commanding General’s Mounted Color Guard stables.”

  “Hey, you’re a girl.” The biggest boy in the group smirked. “Girls can’t be in the army.”

  “Actually, women serve in many units in today’s military. But during the period when this stable was built, women were not allowed to enlist.”

  “Didn’t a few women serve in the Union Army during the Civil War?” Brian asked.

  She shot him a grateful look. “That’s correct. Both the Union and Confederate Armies had women who fought disguised as men. It goes to show that women can be good soldiers and as brave as men in battle. If you’ll come this way, we’ll start our tour with the barn.”

  She paused inside the large double doors where a life-size model horse stood before a wall displaying photographs of cavalry horses in action.

  “Please watch your step. These old cobblestones can be treacherous.” She gestured toward the uneven floor.

  “Wouldn’t it be better for the horses to have these torn up or paved over,” Brian suggested.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t think we haven’t asked. Unfortunately, this is a historical building and can’t be altered. This is the last remaining original stable building. It was constructed of native limestone and timber in 1889. It originally housed sixty mounts. At one time it was converted into a pistol range before being returned to its original function when our unit was formed. Before we get started, I’d like to have each one of you sign our guest book.”

  One by one, the children signed their names in a ledger on a podium until only the boy in the wheelchair was left. Brian took the book and handed it down to the youngster. The boy shyly smiled his thanks.

  “As you can see,” Lindsey continued, “our model horse, Stick and Stone, carries everything a cavalry horse would have been equipped with in the 1880s. The saddle is called a McClellen and has the unique feature of an open split down the center and a rawhide seat. Would anyone like to guess why?”

  The boy in the wheelchair raised his hand. Lindsey pointed to him. “Yes?”

  “It allowed air to circulate and help keep the horse’s back from getting sore?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Brainiac,” one of the group muttered.

  “The only thing he knows about riding a horse is what he reads in a book,” the big boy scoffed.

  As Lindsey led the group down farther into the barn, Brian replaced the visitors log and waited while the boy in the wheelchair struggled to maneuver his chair down the wide aisle.

  “Do you need a hand?” Brian offered when it was obvious that the boy’s wheels weren’t rolling well over the uneven stones. He put his hands on the handles of the chair.

  “No, I can manage,” the kid said defensively, pushing harder.

  “I’m sure you can. I only offered because...please don’t tell anyone...but walking on a rough surface like this makes me afraid of falling.”

  The child looked back at him. “It does?”

  “Would you mind if I just held on to the back of your chair to steady myself?”

  Sitting up straighter, the boy shrugged. “I guess that would be okay.”

  “We’d better catch up with the group or we’ll miss the tour.”

  “I’m not really interested in it anyway.”

  “You don’t like horses?”

  “They’re okay.”

  “Their big size can make them scary.” Brian tipped the wheelchair backward slightly freeing the front wheels.

  “I’m not scared of them.”

  “You’re not? That’s good. My name is Brian. What’s your name?”

  “Mark.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mark.”

  “How’d you hurt your leg?”

  Taken aback, Brian hesitated before answering. He’d forgotten how forthright children could be. “I hurt it in a car accident.”

  Mark’s eyes widened. “Me, too. Was it a drunk driver?”

  “No, it was my own fault.”

  “Will you get better?”

  “I’m afraid this is as good as I’m going to get. I’ll always need a cane.”

  “I got hit by a drunk driver when I was riding my bike home from school. Do you like horses?”

  “I like them very much.” Brian followed the abrupt change of subject easily.

  “Does anyone make fun of you because you can’t ride?” Mark’s dejected tone told Brian how much the earlier gibe had hurt.

  Brian let the group move farther ahead. “I don’t pay any attention to them if they do. Besides, being handicapped doesn’t mean you can’t ride a horse.”

  Catching Lindsey’s eye, he motioned for her to continue with her tour. She nodded and began walking.

  “All our tack repairs are done here in the leather shop. This is Corporal Shane Ross. He’s going to explain the different types of leather we use and show you how we repair our harnesses,” Lindsey said.

  Lindsey stepped aside as the group crowded into the small room where Shane sat behind a large sewing machine. She walked back to where Brian had stopped pushing Mark.

  Looking up with a mixture of disbelief and interest, Mark asked, “How can someone like me ride a horse?”

  “I have a friend who runs a riding stable just for kids with disabilities. She has special saddles that will hold you strapped in place. Her horses are very gentle. All kinds of kids learn to ride there.”

  “Is it far away?” Mark’s tone was wistful.

  “It’s only a half-hour drive from here. Why don’t I give you my card. Have your parents call me and I’ll tell them all about it.”

  “I don’t know. Mo
m is funny about me doing stuff.”

  “Tell her that it’s a very safe place and they have trained therapists there.”

  “Okay.”

  Lindsey dropped to one knee beside the boy. “How would you like to meet one of our horses up close and personal?”

  He nodded eagerly. “That would be totally sweet.”

  “Good.” She sent a questioning look at Brian. He nodded his approval.

  “Right this way.” Standing, she led them to Dakota’s stall and opened the door.

  Brian maneuvered the chair into the stall and Lindsey closed the door, shutting him and the boy inside. Dakota limped a few steps forward to investigate his visitors.

  Mark held out one hand. “Come here, fella.”

  Lowering his head, Dakota sniffed at the boy’s hand and then took another step closer so that Mark could pet the side of his face.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Mark gestured toward the cast.

  “He broke his ankle and Dr. Brian fixed it for him,” Lindsey said from the doorway.

  Mark looked up with interest. “You’re a horse doctor?”

  Brian nodded. “I’m a veterinary surgeon and I specialize in horses.”

  “That’s tight, dude.”

  Brian glanced back at Lindsey. She grinned. “That means he thinks you have a cool job.”

  “Oh.”

  “We should get on with the tour,” she said, holding open the door.

  “Aw, do we have to?”

  “I think we should.” Brian waited until the boy said goodbye to Dakota and then pushed his chair out of the stall.

  Outside the leather shop, he waited until the rest of the children came out and then followed the group and listened intently as Lindsey talked about the unit’s job, their performances and the history of Fort Riley. It was obvious by the way she answered the children’s questions that she enjoyed sharing her knowledge.

  It wasn’t until the last child was herded onto the bus and the vehicle pulled away that he saw her sag with relief and rub her arm.

  “Are you hurting?”

  “A little. Tell me more about the riding stable for disabled children.” They began walking back into the barn.

 

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