“Wow. It’s amazing you can be so...so at peace with it.”
“Well, it didn’t happen overnight. It took me a long time to come to that realization.”
Chills raced along his spine at the thought of a battered and broken Holly, after being thrown from the car, lying on the road hovering between life and death. Hearing Holly’s story was shocking and moving at the same time. One moment she’d been a typical teenager having a girls’ night out. The next thing she knew she’d woken up in the hospital with catastrophic injuries. It was mind-blowing just thinking about all she’d endured. And everything she had to live with on a daily basis. His own experience with being paralyzed had been of such short duration that he couldn’t compare his situation to Holly’s. There were so many things that able-bodied people like himself were clueless about. He knew he wouldn’t have handled things quite so well if the injuries he’d sustained in the bomb blast had been permanent. As it was, he’d been severely depressed and filled with uncertainty about his future. He’d lived in fear for months. Holly seemed to have navigated her way through her own terrible storm with grace and courage.
“Don’t get me wrong. In the beginning I was bitter and apathetic. I kept asking myself why God had chosen me to be so horribly affected by the accident. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I kept wondering why the other girls had remained unscathed. That type of thinking did nothing to move me forward. One day I attended services at Main Street Church, and it was as if a lightbulb went off in my head when I heard Pastor Blake’s sermon. I realized it was time to stop feeling sorry for myself and blaming God for my troubles. It was time to start living. After that, I committed myself not only to leading a more faith-driven life but to giving back to my community. This town has stood behind me every step of my journey, so it’s only fitting that I talk to the teens about my own experience with reckless driving.”
He nodded. “There’s certainly a need for it. You hear about teen-driving fatalities all the time.”
“Teenagers don’t have fully formed brains, so decisions made on the spur of the moment can be life altering. I don’t want to lecture them. I just want them to see with their own eyes what can happen when poor decision-making spirals out of control.”
Holly was spot-on. Teens didn’t want some know-it-all telling them the dos and don’ts of adolescence. That was a surefire way of losing an audience and having them block out anything anyone tried to tell them. He knew this all too well from his own experiences with eighteen-year-old recruits, who chafed at being told what to do. Over time they’d learned the value of listening to more experienced soldiers. Sometimes their very lives depended on it.
Something told him Holly made a powerful impression all on her own.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Main Street Church. After Dylan parked the truck, he retrieved the wheelchair from the back, then scooped Holly up and settled her back in the chair. Having done it once before gave him the confidence to know he could handle it without complications. Once he was finished, Dylan stood on the curb, craning his neck up toward the towering structure. He remembered Holly writing him about the storm that had damaged the church’s roof and toppled its historic steeple. Although the roof had been fully restored, the church was still missing its crowning glory. According to Holly, the church was having ongoing fund-raising events to pay for the costly repair. Little by little, she said, they were moving toward their goal. Even without the steeple, the house of worship was still magnificent.
A good-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind expression stood at the top of the stairs by the entrance. His slate-gray eyes were welcoming. A smile lit up his face. Dylan had a good hunch this was Pastor Blake, the inspiring man he’d heard so much about over the past year.
“Holly! So glad you could make it after all,” he called out as Holly wheeled herself up the ramp and toward the entrance. “I was getting a little worried. You’re usually the first one to arrive.”
“Sorry, Pastor Blake. I’m running a few minutes late. I needed some help getting here today.” She cast a glance in Dylan’s direction, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thankfully, my friend Dylan was able to help me out.”
Pastor Blake heartily clapped him on the back. “We’re mighty grateful to you, son. She’s a bright ray of sunshine around here. The teens are already in the rec room waiting for her arrival.”
“Let’s get to it, then,” Holly said with a grin as she sailed through the open door.
Pastor Blake chuckled and shook his head, then ushered Dylan inside the church. The interior was cool and dimly lit. After following Holly down the aisle, he stopped in his tracks, awed by the way the sunlight streamed like gold ribbons through the stained-glass windows, bathing the altar in natural light.
Pastor Blake paused beside him. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Sometimes in the middle of the day I just sit down in one of the pews and enjoy a moment of reflection.”
Dylan nodded. He didn’t know what to say, even though the idea of enjoying a peaceful moment here appealed to him. It had been a long time since he’d been in God’s house. He’d spent some time in the chapel at the hospital while he was recuperating from his injuries, but that had been the extent of it. It shamed him to acknowledge he hadn’t lived up to his vow. At the time, he’d made a lot of promises about living a more spiritual life. He’d been so grateful to God for giving him back the use of his legs, so relieved that he didn’t have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, promises had flowed out of his mouth like quicksilver. As he walked behind Holly’s wheelchair as she led the way to the recreation room, the irony struck him square in the chest. He’d been spared while Holly had been dealt a crushing blow.
Once they reached the hallway, the sounds of animated voices drifted toward them. The recreation room was a large-size area with a brightly colored mural on the wall. There were about twenty teenagers seated around the room. As soon as they spotted Holly, a roar went up in the place. Looking pleased with the warm reception, Holly introduced him to the group. Some of the girls sent him flirty looks and smiles so sweet they almost gave him a toothache. The boys seemed to be sizing him up, staring at him with curious gazes. He held up his hand in greeting before stepping aside and settling into a seat at the back of the room, right before Holly began speaking.
“Hi guys. It’s nice to see so many people could make it. I know we’ve talked a lot about reckless driving, but today I want to talk about personal responsibility.” She positioned herself right in the center of the room, where everyone had a good view of her sitting in her wheelchair. “The way I see it, if you’re a passenger in a car, you also have an obligation to make sure the driver is being safe. No texting. No drinking. No game playing. Bottom line...if the driver isn’t being responsible, you’re putting your own life in danger. Take it from me. It isn’t worth it.”
For the next half hour Holly went over different scenarios and had the teens role-play. Although a few of the teens were making jokes and goofing around, most of them were taking their assignments very seriously. Throughout, Holly handled herself in a professional manner, gently reining in the kids when they veered off track. She never sounded preachy or holier-than-thou. Authenticity rang out in every syllable. She’d clearly walked the walk, and the kids all knew it. The teens peppered her with questions about her own accident, and she painstakingly answered every one of them, even the ones that made his jaw drop. Her bravery and transparency were awe inspiring.
At the end of the session, a pretty dark-skinned girl raised her hand. “Sarah, do you have a question?” Holly asked, her attention focused solely on her.
“Miss Holly, we were talking before you got here about how we can give back to the community. So we—”
A tall boy with ginger hair and freckles chimed in. “We want to have a bake sale at school to help with the steeple fund.”
“We know it probably won
’t make a dent in the overall cost,” Sarah added, “but we think it’s important to make a contribution.”
“Oh, I think that’s wonderful,” Holly said, a huge smile lighting up her face. She clasped her hands together and placed them in her lap. “Every bit helps. And just think, when the steeple is finally finished, this entire community can take pride that we all chipped in toward the restoration.”
Pastor Blake clapped enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear, a huge smile that rivaled the one plastered on Holly’s face. Dylan felt a sudden yearning. The fellowship and community he was witnessing within the walls of Main Street Church left him awestruck. Never in his life had he experienced something so profound. As he gazed upon Holly, her face radiant with joy, he felt the stirrings of something so powerful inside him it caused a painful tightening in his chest. Rooted to the spot, he didn’t think he could take his eyes off Holly if his life depended on it. A longing swept through him, pure and deep, and although he didn’t fully understand the scope of it, he knew that he wanted to be a part of this community, this wonderful landscape. This little oasis from the storms of life.
Every day he was finding new things to appreciate about life in West Falls. The warm, down-to-earth townsfolk. Doc, his wise landlord. Pastor Blake and Main Street Church. Horseshoe Bend Ranch and all its many opportunities. And above all else, Holly. In many ways she was everything he’d always wanted in a woman—kind, beautiful, spiritual, funny.
But as much as he was beginning to enjoy life in West Falls and his budding relationship with Holly, he couldn’t run the risk of getting involved with her and then finding himself in a situation that was over his head. Not when he was filled with so much uncertainty. Not when the chances of hurting her were so great if things didn’t work out. The life she led wasn’t easy by any means. Every day presented new challenges and ongoing struggles. And if he was being completely honest with himself, the ramifications of his new life scared him to death.
Chapter Six
Dylan gently held the colt’s hoof in his hand, his attention focused on the small stone stuck in the heel. With all the precision he possessed, he extracted the stone, soothing the horse afterward by patting him on his side. He sure was a looker, Dylan noted. The spirited colt had been limping for a few days, a fact that was causing great worry to Holly, according to Malachi. Thankfully, he was none the worse for wear.
“Good boy, Picasso,” he crooned. “You’re a real champ. I know it must have hurt to have me poking around, but you handled it like a trooper.” The colt let out a nicker in response, giving Dylan a reason to chuckle.
“Keep that up and you’re going to make yourself indispensable around here.” The low timbre of Malachi’s voice slid into the silence of the stables. “You saved me a call to Shep, our local vet.”
Dylan wasn’t surprised by his presence. He’d known the minute Malachi entered the stables, despite his attempts to be unobtrusive. It was a skill he’d learned in Afghanistan. Being aware of your surroundings had been a matter of life and death in a combat zone.
From what he was discovering about the ranch foreman, he was a keen observer of all things and a lot more talkative than he’d appeared the first day they’d met.
Dylan swiped his arm across his forehead. “The good news is it was only a stone. The way he was limping around the corral, I thought he might have a puncture wound that developed into an abscess. Or possibly a case of thrush.”
“That’s something to be thankful for. This colt means an awful lot to Holly and Tate. Cassidy, too.”
“I figured as much. From what Holly told me about the night of his birth, Picasso is a little superstar around here.”
“He came into the world with a real bang, that’s for sure.” Malachi seemed to be studying him as if he was trying to read his mind. “Dylan, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Dylan stood up and faced him, giving the other man his full attention.
“I have to leave the ranch for a bit. A week at the very least. My grandfather on the reservation isn’t doing too well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I’ll remember to keep him in my prayers.” Ever since the explosion he’d gotten real good at praying. For some reason, praying for others was more satisfying than asking for his own to be answered. Perhaps because ever since he was a kid he’d been praying for a lot of things that had never come to pass. And somehow, it made him feel more connected to the people around him to offer up prayers on their behalf. It made him feel like part of a community.
Pray for one another, that you shall be healed. The words of his hometown pastor rang in his ears, reminding him that there were certain things from childhood he’d held onto. Not everything had been bad. There were some things he proudly carried with him. Within him there were remnants of a childhood scattered with random acts of kindness and generosity. A pastor who’d taken him under his wing. A schoolteacher who’d encouraged him to reach for the stars. A mother who’d loved him unconditionally.
Malachi stood before him and scratched his chin, deep in thought. “Problem is, Holly depends on me for her riding lessons. I’d hate to slow down her momentum, since she’s turned a corner.”
“She’s certainly making progress,” Dylan said with a nod of his head. Over the past two weeks, he’d caught glimpses of Holly riding Sundance in the corral, aided by Malachi. She looked stronger and more in control. Her face no longer reflected fear. “Her confidence seems to be growing, and she’s building up her endurance a bit.”
“She’s definitely stronger, although she tries to push herself past exhaustion at times. You said you worked with disabled riders back in Oklahoma, so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for you to spot Holly while she’s riding. Can you handle filling in for me?” The question hovered in the air between them. It was also the most words Malachi had uttered to him since he’d come on board several weeks ago.
Could he handle it? His initial reaction was to bristle at the suggestion that he might not be able to. He’d handled two tours of duty in Afghanistan, hadn’t he? It didn’t get any tougher than that. Then, as Malachi’s question settled in, he began to wonder. Could he? On one hand, he loved spending time with Holly. The emotional attachment he felt toward her was strong, cemented by months and months of writing to one another and reading her wonderful, lively letters. Even before he’d shown up in West Falls, he had a keen sense of who she was as a person. Kind. Warm. Spirited. A woman of faith. Being in close contact with her would serve only to tighten their bond, and he wasn’t sure he wanted that to happen. It would only make it harder to walk away from her in a few months’ time. And he did intend to leave West Falls. Being in Holly’s presence reminded him way too much of the fragility of life. It made him feel defenseless and vulnerable. He hated feeling that way. Stepping in with a few words of advice while she was riding Sundance was one thing. Driving her into town so she could meet with the teen group had been the right thing to do under the circumstances. Being solely responsible for Holly’s care and safety during the lesson was something completely different. It made him responsible for her.
There was no way he was going to admit it to Malachi, but the very thought of it terrified him. What if something happens? What if I don’t know how to care for her needs? Just the idea of it made him feel uneasy. It put him way too close to that dark space he’d been trapped in, that netherworld of fear and doubt. It served as a constant reminder of what he might have lost if he hadn’t regained the use of his legs. It forced him to face his worst fear head-on. What was he thinking to even consider it?
He swallowed past the huge lump in his throat. “Isn’t there anybody else?”
Malachi shook his head. “Holly’s parents would step in if they were here, but they won’t be back from their horse auction trip for a few more days.” Malachi was staring at him, barely blinking as he wai
ted for an answer. “How about it?”
“I’d rather not,” he said in a no-nonsense, clipped tone. He reached up and fidgeted with the collar of his T-shirt as heat suffused his face.
Malachi frowned, his onyx-colored eyes widening in surprise. “Why?” he said, seeming to lose his composure a little bit. He’d never heard such consternation in Malachi’s voice. “What’s the problem?” Malachi pressed.
Why? There were dozens of answers to that question, none of which he wanted to share with Malachi. The idea of getting so near Holly was nerve-racking. The thought of getting pulled in any deeper than he already was sent waves of uncertainty crashing over him. Without knowing it, Malachi was putting him in a corner by asking him to fill in during his absence. He was pushing his buttons.
“Why?” he snapped. “I’m just not comfortable doing it, that’s all.”
He heard the slight whirring sound just before Holly’s voice sliced into the silence. “Don’t worry about it, Malachi. At the moment I don’t want a single thing from Dylan, least of all his help.” With eyes blazing and a mutinous look stamped on her face, Holly wheeled herself around and barreled out the door, her blond hair flying around her like a whirlwind. There was no doubt in his mind that she was attempting to get as far away as possible from the very sight of him.
* * *
Heat crept up the back of her neck as she flew out of the stables and quickly made her way toward her van. The path in front of her was clouded by a red haze swirling around her. Hot, pulsing anger was flowing through her veins. She moved to get as far away from Dylan as her chair would take her.
“Arrogant, selfish jerk,” she muttered. “As if the world revolves around him!”
The crunching noise of cowboy boots rang out in the stillness of the afternoon.
Heart of a Soldier Page 8