Stronger Than the Rest (8 page)

“Fair enough, Jeff. I appreciate it.”

He nodded before closing the door.

******

Tess had worked all morning in the barn while keeping watch on a mare that was about to foal. It was the mare’s first time—a mare that Tess had raised from birth. Some mothers did well, others panicked, which could put stress on the foal and prolong the birth. Tess hoped this delivery would be easy.

She brushed her hands on her skirt, took one last look at the horse, and walked toward the house. Drew had been in the office most of the day. Grant had offered him the use of it for as long as he stayed in Cold Creek. Their guest was making good use of it.

Drew looked up as she walked by the open office door. Their eyes met and held for an instant before she broke the contact and continued to the kitchen.

“Tess?” Drew called after her.

She stopped. Their conversations had been short and strained while she’d been in Denver. They’d spoken little since arriving at the ranch. Tess knew he’d seen Patricia Dunnigan just before they left for Cold Creek and assumed they were making plans to marry. It surprised Tess how much the thought hurt. She knew she wasn’t beautiful or rich like Miss Dunnigan, but she and Drew had shared so much in his brief stay before. They’d become close. Friends. She’d dreamed of him since the shooting, but in each dream, he walked, rode his horse, and laughed. She guessed that’s why they were called dreams—images she could see but never hold.

“Yes, Drew? Can I get you something?”

“No, I just wanted to see how you were doing with the mare. It’s close, isn’t it?”

“Any day now by my count.” She began to walk away.

“Tess, I’m sorry we didn’t have much time to talk in Denver. My work and other obligations made it hard. Then Dunnigan asked me to travel here. I wish we’d had more time together, just you and me.”

“It’s all right. We knew you weren’t expecting us. You have important work, and of course there’s your fiancée. But she’s probably more of a pleasure to be around than an obligation.”

“About Patricia…” Drew began but stopped when Eleanor and Alicia walked into the room.

“I hope we’re not disturbing anything,” Eleanor said, “but dinner is about ready, Tess, and I wondered if you could locate your father and Jake.”

“Of course.” She took one quick glance at Drew then left the house.

Drew felt her absence, like a gift that had been ripped from his grasp. He had to find time to speak with her, explain.

“Everything all right?” Aunt Alicia asked as she settled herself in one of the two large, leather guest chairs. Eleanor had returned to the kitchen, but Alicia wanted time with her nephew.

Drew threw his pen down on the desk in disgust. “Could be better.”

“I see.” Alicia waited for him to explain. Drew always took more time to express his thoughts than his three brothers did. He was a thinker, more introspective than the others.

Drew turned his wheelchair a fraction so he could see outside. Tess was speaking with Grant, who shook his head and yelled to someone behind him. Ranch life. So familiar yet so far from his reach.

He looked back at the woman who’d raised him. He owed her and his deceased Uncle Stuart everything. She deserved to know what was happening.

“I think I’m in love with Tess.”

“Of course you are, Drew.”

Drew’s eyes sharpened, his surprise at her comment apparent.

“It’s quite obvious to me and those who know you. It’s apparent she feels the same about you. She’s a wonderful girl and you’re a remarkable man. I’m just wondering what’s keeping the two of you from telling each other how you feel.”

He let his head fall back, then rolled it from one side to the other in an attempt to calm his stress, clear his mind. Wasn’t it obvious why neither had said a word?

“I’m in a wheelchair, Aunt Alicia. She’s an amazing woman with a gift for raising horses, training them. The last thing she needs is a man who is a burden and can’t keep up. She’d grow to hate me and I’d grow to hate myself.”

“It doesn’t seem to concern Tess that you’re in a chair. I believe that woman’s love for you has grown despite the circumstances.” Alicia stood and walked around the desk to place her hand on Drew’s shoulder. “Besides, she believes with absolute certainty that you will walk again. There’s no doubt in her mind. And she’d help you, if you’d let her.”

“And what if I don’t walk again?” He placed an elbow on the desk and rested his forehead between his thumb and fingers, massaging his temples, his eyes. What a mess.

“Then you’ll help her with the horse breeding operations from your chair, with your brains. Someone else can do the heavy lifting. Just because you can’t walk doesn’t mean you can’t ride. Why, I saw a man in Phoenix once whose son lost the use of his legs in a riding accident. He built the boy a special saddle. I never saw anything like it. Held that boy in place and he rode around the pen like a champion. Even went on trail rides.” Alicia took a calming breath before continuing. “I’ve known you since you were a scared, seven-year-old little boy. But you found your place in our life and never looked back. Whatever you wanted, you worked for until it was yours. Don’t tell me you don’t have options and can’t be with the person you love. I just don’t believe it.”

Drew’s wide eyes and slack jaw were evidence of his complete surprise at his aunt’s adamant support of him and Tess. He felt chastised, and rightfully so. Maybe he had been wrong about his future, and what he and Tess could have together.

“I know you just got much more from me than you expected, but I love you Drew, and so does Tess. If you feel the same, don’t throw it away before you explore what could be.” She placed a kiss on his cheek and walked toward the door.

“Aunt Alicia?”

She turned to her nephew.

“Thanks.”

Chapter Seven

Denver, Colorado

“Find anything useful last night?” the associate asked as he walked into the small room.

The decoder, Pierce, had been in Denver a few days working almost nonstop each night to prepare a copy of the documents the associate had discovered. Two different ledgers. Unfortunately, the books had to be returned to the safe early each morning, then retrieved again for the first few nights so that Pierce could make his own copies. It had been dangerous for his brother, but Pierce now had an exact set to work from.

The younger man looked up from his desk where the documents were spread out in an order only he understood. “The books are not the same. Although each has the same dates, the second set contains additional information. Dates, dollar amounts, and what look to be locations that don’t appear in the first book. But there’s still the possibility that the second ledger is a copy of the original with additional information. Perhaps Walsh is just cautious and keeps a duplicate with more detail in case the original is destroyed or lost.”

“It’s possible,” his brother replied, “but unlikely.”

Pierce understood his brothers’ doubts after meeting Walsh the one time he’d stopped in at the Denver Rose for a whiskey. Walsh had introduced himself to Pierce before signaling for another man to join them. The other man, Connor, seemed to be in charge of running the saloon. Pierce had no issues with him. But Walsh set off red flags from the moment Pierce had shaken his hand.

“I won’t be able to come up with anything reliable until I decipher a significant amount of the writing, but I believe I’ve discovered the key which is required for decoding. I just need to test it to be certain. Whoever developed the code was good. Very good.” Pierce looked through his magnifying glass again to check his theory. He needed the correct key to overlay above the written symbols to decipher the documents.

“How long?”

“A few days, a week, but I will figure this out for you.”

******

Cold Creek, Colorado

“How have you been, Doctor Wheaton?” Drew asked as Jericho wheeled him into the examination room.

“Fine, Drew. Glad to see you back in Cold Creek. You planning to marry that pretty young woman, Tess Taylor?” The doctor helped Jericho position Drew on the table.

Drew’s eyes snapped to the doctor, his surprise obvious. “What did you say?”

“Well, it just seemed to me there was something special between the two of you. More than just friends, I mean.”

Drew laid his head back down on the table and stared at the ceiling. How he wished there was more to their friendship, and that he could act on it. But no, the doctor was mistaken. “No, there’s nothing more between us.” The regretful tone of his voice wasn’t lost on the doctor or Jericho.

“I see,” the doctor probed his patient’s legs, lower back, and abdomen. “You having any problems with doing your business?”

“My business?”

The doctor nodded to Drew’s private area. “You know, using the facilities when you need to?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s working just fine.”

“Does your body tell you it’s time?”

“Of course it does, Doctor, how else would I ….” but Drew’s words trailed off when he started to understand the doctor’s meaning. He’d had to have help every few hours during the first weeks, just in case it was needed, not because he felt any urge. But over the last five or six weeks those slight urges had begun and increased to where Drew knew what was needed. The feelings had been so gradual that he’d missed the signs. He’d never even thought to mention it to Doc Garland in Denver.

“You think…” Drew started before Dr. Wheaton raised a hand.

“Let’s not jump to0 far ahead. I think it’s one sign that something may be happening.” The doctor turned to a table and grabbed a sharp instrument. It appeared to be a very slim needle of some type. “Mr. Jericho, please roll Mr. MacLaren to his side.”

The doctor started at mid-back, inserting the needle less than a sixteenth of an inch every few inches. “Tell me if you feel anything at all.”

Drew acknowledged feeling the needle the first few times as the doctor worked his way down to the lower back and hips—the places where the doctor suspected the paralysis started. He probed several more times without any comment from Drew, but when he inserted the needle into the upper section of one hip, Drew squirmed.

“You feel that?” the doctor asked.

“I believe so. Do it again.”

The second and third attempts yielded nothing, but the fourth caused Drew to suck in breath. It hadn’t been much, but he’d definitely felt something.

The doctor kept at it until he’d worked his way to Drew’s ankles. His patient had felt something four times. “All right, Mr. Jericho, you can help Mr. MacLaren into his chair.” Doc Wheaton scratched a few notes and pulled a chair up next to Drew.

“You have some feeling. Not much, but more than what you had right after the shooting. I’ve been doing some more reading, and there’s this doctor back East who is convinced that temporary paralysis can be brought on by trauma to the area surrounding the spinal cord. Now this isn’t the same as actually injuring the cord, which didn’t happen to you. It’s like a ripple effect. Over time, the majority of patients with this type of paralysis regain close to a hundred percent use of their limbs.”

Drew had held his breath, not sure what the doctor would say. But the words were so much more encouraging than he’d expected. He felt his throat close as he pushed down the urge to voice his excitement.

“So there’s a chance, Doc?”

“I think there’s more than a chance but that’s not a guarantee.” He looked at Jericho. “Keep doing the exercises and use the liniments, Mr. Jericho. But now, I want you to help Mr. MacLaren to stand a little each day, bracing his weight on you and anything else that will hold him. Furniture, bars, fence posts. Whatever it takes to get his body to start understanding that it’s supposed to stand and not just sit. Take it slow, don’t push it. Drew’s body needs to heal on its own, but let’s try giving it just a slight nudge. Any questions, Mr. Jericho?”

“How long do you want him to stand, Doctor?”

“Only a few seconds the first few times, then increase it as long as he’s up to it.”

“Oh, I’ll be up to it,” Drew responded.

“All right. I want to see you again next week.” The doctor stood to open the door for Mr. Jericho and Drew. “And Drew, don’t forget what I said about Miss Taylor.”

“Ah, yes, sir. Guess I better study that a little bit more.” A slight smile formed on Drew’s face as his mind wandered over the possibilities if he walked again.

******

Drew pushed up to the supper table, his seat directly across from Tess. Everyone else was still milling around, getting settled. “Good evening, Tess.”

Her eyes lit up when her gaze met his. “Hello, Drew. I heard you went to see Doctor Wheaton today. Any news?” She smiled and that one small gesture meant more to him than anything else she could have done.

“The usual. Keep working my legs, use the oils, and don’t give up.” Drew didn’t want to share the doctor’s prognosis of a possible recovery. He didn’t want anyone, including himself, to get their hopes up, but Drew felt more positive than he had at any time during the past two months. “He did say that there is still time, same as the doctors in Denver. But I do intend to walk again.”