Rancher and Protector
Page 6
“Here we go,” she heard someone say. She glanced back.
Jarrod. Lovely.
The door opened with another gust of hydraulic fluid.
“I had them put Dee in the very front,” Gil said, giving her a secret smile.
“Okay, thanks,” Amber said, consumed by the urge to hug him for his thoughtfulness.
“You know someone on the bus?” Jarrod asked.
“No,” Amber lied. And she didn’t feel bad doing it. This was none of his business.
“Well, as lead therapist, I’ll go in and get the child.”
“Actually,” Gil said, “Amber can manage. Down at the barn, you take over.”
Jarrod looked confused, maybe even a little perturbed, but he was smart enough not to say a word.
She scooted forward, her heart pounding so hard she would bet people could hear it.
At the door, she smiled at the driver.
And there he was, his dark hair mussed up as usual. Dee’s button nose was a little red, probably because he’d been rubbing it, a nervous affectation of his. Surprisingly, however, his big brown eyes were alert. He was clearly intrigued by his surroundings, his head turning to take everything in.
Her heart swelled.
This was why she was here. To help her nephew, and with any luck, other kids just like him.
She wasn’t here to kiss cowboys.
Chapter Eight
“Dee,” Amber called, hoping he’d look in her direction.
He didn’t.
“Did you need my help getting him off the bus?” Melissa asked from behind her. One of the other volunteers brushed past to keep unloading the other kids.
“Sure.” Now Melissa’s help, she didn’t mind.
It was darker inside the bus. The driver, who sat in the front seat, was engrossed in his paperwork.
“Dee,” she said again, softer this time. Loud noises upset autistic children, as did touching. She took care not to reach out and startle him.
“It’s time to leave the bus.”
He knew she was near, knew she wanted his attention. She glanced around at the other children. Some were autistic, like Dee. Some had other afflictions such as Down syndrome. Some were physically handicapped. Most got up without much prompting and followed a camp worker off the bus.
“Dee?” she said again.
And though she’d had years to get used to his condition, it always broke her heart to see him like this. She’d been by her sister’s side at his birth, back when Logan had been a nice guy and her sister had been filled with pride. But then it’d all fallen apart. They’d suspected something wasn’t right with Dee when he was three. By four he’d been diagnosed. By five Logan was out on the rodeo trail, ostensibly to make more money. But they’d all known the truth. He couldn’t stand the sight of his son. And then he’d caused the car crash that had taken her sister’s life, and he’d gone to jail.
Everything had happened so fast. One minute Amber had been holding her sister’s hand, the next she’d been helping to bury her. And Logan? Well, he was better off out of their lives. Forever.
“We might need to help him up,” one of the nurses who’d accompanied the kids said.
“I just hate to do that. He doesn’t take to physical contact very well.”
“Yeah, but sometimes there’s no other way.”
She was an older woman with kindly gray eyes, and Amber knew she was right. It was part of the reason she’d put him in a full-time care facility. She’d needed help with him—and hadn’t been too proud to admit it.
“All right, let’s go.”
But before she reached for him, she bent her head close to him and said, “Dee, I’m dying to show you something.”
And the nurse, bless her heart, waited patiently, children squeezing past them.
“There are horses outside.” Amber dared to move her hand closer to his. “Horses,” she said again, louder. “You want to see them?”
Her heart stilled as she gently made contact.
He didn’t pull away. Didn’t do anything, just continued to stare out the window. She followed his gaze.
He could see the horses.
Colt was down there, grooming Flash, and Dee was transfixed.
“Let’s go see,” she said, clasping his hand.
He didn’t resist. She thanked the good Lord above for that. Of all the types of autism, Dee’s was the most severe. She knew that, tried to prepare herself for their visits. Oftentimes, it didn’t work.
“Come on,” she said, guiding him up.
Did he understand? Sometimes she could swear he did. But as she’d explained to Colt, an autistic child’s wiring seemed to be scrambled. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.
“Nnnn,” he said, squinting against the foggy sky. At least that’s what it would look like to most laymen, but Amber knew he was squinting because of all the new information his brain was processing. At times it would be too much for him to handle and he would stem, but not today. Thank God, not today.
“Over here,” she said.
This was why she hadn’t worried someone would figure out they were aunt and nephew. He acted as if she was a stranger; he’d always acted that way.
And it broke her heart.
“I’ll walk down with you,” Melissa said, bending down near Dee’s ear. “Hi, Dee, I’m Melissa.”
Jarrod just stood there, arms crossed. He didn’t even move forward to meet Dee. What a jerk.
“Come on,” Amber said gently.
Each child—thirty of them—would be working in groups with other therapists. Dee was first on the list for this morning. They’d do this for eight weeks. And all the kids had dossiers—diagnosis, prognosis, method of therapy. So Amber knew Melissa wouldn’t touch Dee, just as she knew Melissa would follow her lead when it came to dealing with her nephew.
“Here we go,” Amber said.
Dee seemed to know where they were headed. Or maybe he was just drawn to the horses. Once again Amber felt herself wondering what it was about the beasts that attracted kids. She could feel her own heart beat just a little faster as they approached.
Or was that because of Colt?
What would he think of her nephew?
She would never know, she reminded herself firmly, because he would never find out who Dee was to her. And yet she wanted to tell him everything. It frightened her how badly she wanted to do that.
Dee, however, seemed impervious to anything other than the animal in front of the barn. He couldn’t take his eyes off Flash.
“Nnnn,” he said again, pointing.
“He’s nonverbal,” Jarrod observed.
“Yup.” Amber wondered if Jarrod had read Dee’s dossier.
“Horse,” she repeated, enunciating the word carefully. It was like double therapy at the camp. She would work with the children’s verbal skills while someone like Jarrod worked to make a breakthrough via the horses.
“That’s Flash,” Amber said, noticing the direction of her nephew’s stare. “And that’s Colt standing by his head.”
Woof.
Amber straightened suddenly.
“What was that?” Jarrod asked. “Sounded like a dog.”
From inside the barn came a streak of gray, white and brown. Amber froze. Dee and Melissa did, too. “That’s Mac, Colt’s dog.”
“Dog?” Jarrod said. “He has a dog here?”
“Mac!” Colt shouted. “Mac, stop.”
The dog ignored him.
“He likes people,” Amber said. And he was headed straight for Dee.
“Son of a—” Jarrod jumped in front of Dee. She had to give the therapist credit for reacting so quickly. Dee had never been around dogs before, and who knew how he’d react?
“Mac,” she warned. But the dog was on a mission. “Mac, no!”
The animal darted to the left around the adults, his tailless rear end seeming to make him more agile than normal dogs. Amber tensed, knowing her nephew could take this wr
ong, expecting a shriek of terror as the dog jumped. His scream would be followed by body tremors and then “the crash,” as she’d dubbed it over the years.
But Dee giggled.
“Mac,” Colt called, coming up behind him. “Gosh darn you, dog.”
“Get him off of the child,” Jarrod ordered.
“No, wait,” Amber said, as Colt moved to do so. “I think Dee likes him.”
The boy giggled again, and Colt stepped back.
“I can’t believe you let your dog run free,” Jarrod snapped.
“He’s usually well-behaved,” Colt said.
“Obviously not anymore.”
“Shh, you two,” Amber ordered. “Quiet.”
They watched as Mac stretched up, his front paws resting on Dee’s chest. The little boy giggled yet again.
“Easy, Mac,” Colt told him.
Dog and child had eyes only for each other. The little boy reached down. Mac went still.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His entire back end swung left and right. If he’d had a tail, it would have been wagging. But his front end? That didn’t move.
“Go ahead, Dee,” Amber encouraged.
Tentatively, her nephew lowered his hand. When he buried his fingers in the animal’s fur, he cooed. Amber knew exactly how he felt. She’d been intrigued by that fur, too.
“Has he ever been around dogs before?” Colt asked softly.
“Not around— I don’t think so.” Damn it. Five minutes in her nephew’s company and already she’d almost blown it.
Dee looked around, his brown eyes seeking out and finding hers. He smiled.
“I think he likes you,” Colt said.
He recognized her. Amber had wondered if he would. It was one thing to visit a child on weekends in his own home, another to take him out of it and have him recognize you. Sure, she’d known him his entire life, but who knew what went on in his mind?
“I still think you should kennel the dog,” Jarrod said.
Amber inhaled deeply. Her eyes burned. He’d smiled! When had she ever seen him do that? Once, maybe? When he’d been younger. Much younger. Back before he’d gone quiet.
“I don’t think he needs to be kenneled,” said Melissa. “I think having a dog around is a good idea.”
“Do you like him?” Amber asked.
“I’ll be talking to Gil about this,” Jarrod said.
“You do that,” Colt retorted.
Amber ignored them.
“He’s not upset by the dog,” Melissa said.
No. Her nephew seemed completely enchanted by the animal in front of him. Dee’s smile turned into more giggles and his hands began to move faster and faster. It was typical autistic behavior. They didn’t do things halfway, but all out.
“Easy,” Amber said.
But Mac took it all in stride. And when Dee sought her out again, she wanted to cry. That was definitely a smile. It’d been so long…?. So damn long.
“If he reacts like this to Mac, I wonder what he’ll do around the horses,” Melissa said.
“Well,” Amber sniffed. “Let’s find out. Come on, Mac.”
“Maybe you should put the dog away,” Jarrod suggested, glancing toward the lodge. A few more kids were headed toward them.
“No,” Amber said. “He’s fine.”
“For now,” the therapist snapped.
“If something happens, I’ll take full responsibility.”
“If you say so.”
COLT WANTED TO THROTTLE the man. Then again, he’d been short-tempered all morning.
All night.
All damn night he’d thought about her.
“Hi,” the dark-haired girl said. “I’m Melissa.”
“Colt Sheridan,” he said, shaking her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Colt. I’m a volunteer here. Anything you need me to do, you just ask.”
“Thanks,” he said gruffly, glancing back at Amber. Clearly, what had just happened had affected her deeply, just as his own interaction with Eric had touched him deeply.
“Dee,” she said, “slow down.”
The little boy had spotted the horse tied at the front of the barn. It didn’t help that Mac seemed to be guiding him toward the animal.
“Don’t let him rush up to the horse,” Jarrod said.
“It’ll be okay.” Colt stepped in front of the child nonetheless.
“Don’t touch him,” Amber warned, but he could tell she didn’t mean it harshly. “He doesn’t like physical contact.”
“Unless it’s with a dog.” Melissa smiled.
“I don’t want him rushing up to the horse,” Jarrod repeated. “One wrong move could upset this child seriously.”
Who was this clown? He might be a certified therapist, but he had a lot to learn about kids and horses.
“Mac, down,” Colt ordered, instantly rewarded by Mac dropping his front paws to the ground. Dee stopped, too.
“Okay, good,” Jarrod said, as if he’d orchestrated the whole scenario. “I’m going to take the lead. You all just stand back and watch.”
“Uh, don’t you think this should be more of a group effort?” Amber asked.
He ignored her. “Hey,” he said, squatting next to Dee. “My name’s Jarrod and I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine.”
“Don’t talk to him like he’s an infant,” Colt said.
Jarrod’s eyes all but stabbed him. “Excuse me?”
“He’s a child,” Colt said. “He might be a special needs child, but he’s still human. He can hear. You’re talking to him like he’s three years old.”
“He is three,” Jarrod said. “Mentally.”
“Okay, you two.” Amber stepped between them. “That’s enough. Not in front of this child.”
Dee didn’t appear to care, but Colt respected Amber’s request. Jarrod looked ready to pop a seam.
“Am I running the show or not?” he demanded.
“We both are,” Amber said. “I respect that you’re a hippotherapist. I’m here to learn from you. But I’m a therapist, too. This is a team effort, and if you have a problem with that, I suggest we both talk to Gil.”
Jarrod didn’t say anything.
“Now,” she added.
Colt wanted to clap Amber on the back.
“Fine,” Jarrod said. “Amber, bring him on up to the front of the horse and we’ll see what happens.”
Colt stepped back. “I love this part,” Melissa said as the two therapists stood side by side. “It’s always so exciting.”
He’d gotten a glimpse of that yesterday with Eric, but today wasn’t anything like that. Dee refused to get close to Flash. He stopped about three feet away, and didn’t even look at the horse. He was fascinated by Mac.
“Would you like to see the horse?” Jarrod asked the boy. He’d lost the preschool voice.
Colt glanced at Amber. She was staring at Dee so intently it appeared she’d forgotten to blink.
“I don’t think he wants to move,” she said.
“I think you’re right,” Jarrod replied. “I’ll bring the horse to him.”
That’s what they’d done yesterday. For Eric. Colt had learned, while during research last night, that today would be all about introducing the children to the horses, nothing more. Before each child was allowed to ride, he or she would go through basic instructions on a pommel horse. That wasn’t scheduled to happen until next week. According to Gil, Colt’s job was to simply lead the horses up to a child and keep an eye on things while the therapists went to work.
“Dee,” Jarrod said. Mac stood meekly in front of them. “This is Flash.”
Amber had knelt next to the boy, and Colt was transfixed by the way all her energy seemed to be focused on the child.
“Dee,” she said. “Flash is a horse.” She tipped down so that she interrupted his line of sight. Dee was so intrigued by Mac that he leaned to the right to keep his eyes on the dog.
But Amber was patient. “Dee, I need you to focu
s on the horse.” She moved into his line of sight again.
“Do you want me to put Mac away?” Colt asked.
“Hmm. Maybe.” Colt admired the way she devoted her entire self to this. She never looked away from the little boy she was trying to help.
And this was a woman who’d kept a child from his father?
Why? Why would she do such a thing?
“Let’s try it,” Melissa said. “I’ll grab Mac’s collar.” The intern met Colt’s gaze. “Will he mind that?”
“No.” He shook his head. “But he’ll come if I call him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Amber said quickly.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Jarrod countered. “The dog’s a distraction. No doubt about it.” He shot Colt a look that conveyed his disgust.
He’s a cattle dog, buddy. He’s better with horses than you are.
“He’ll move off too fast and that will upset Dee,” Amber said. “We need to avoid making sudden movements. Best to do this slowly.”
“I say ditch the dog,” Jarrod insisted.
“If that’s possible.” Melissa gently tugged the dog away, her eyes darting between the boy and the animal and another group fast approaching.
“Nnnn,” Dee began to moan, his hands beginning to flail.
“It’s agitating him,” Amber announced.
“Yeah.” Melissa released Mac’s collar.
“Don’t give up now,” Jarrod prompted.
“Darn it,” Amber said. “I want him to be aware of the horse. That’s why he’s here.”
“He’s too in love with Mac,” Jarrod said, shooting Colt yet another glare. “You should never have let that dog loose.”
“He’s part of the team,” Colt said firmly. “That dog can herd an animal faster than any human.”
“Great, if we ever farm cows he’ll be perfect.”
“You don’t farm cows.”
“Colt,” Amber interjected.
“You might think about putting Mac up next to the horse’s head,” Colt offered after a moment’s pause.