Just Beyond the Clouds

by Karen Kingsbury

  If he was at risk for a stroke, then every day would represent danger to Carl Joseph. Cody settled back in the saddle and drew a full breath. What had Kelley Gaylor said yesterday morning? Cody of all people should know about taking risks.

  At least a hundred times since the nightmare of losing Carl Joseph, Cody had played one particular moment over in his mind. Yesterday as he walked into the recreation center, he had been struck by something that hadn’t dawned on him until after Carl Joseph disappeared. The young adults at the club meeting were entirely different from the students at Elle Dalton’s Independent Living Center.

  At the club meeting, people with Down Syndrome were given crafts and simple books and time to visit. But they wore blank expressions on their faces and seemed almost despondent. No challenge was presented, no learning. Just a way to pass the time together. Something to set apart Tuesday from Wednesday. It wasn’t Kelley Gaylor’s fault. The club wasn’t designed to teach independence or give its members a goal.

  Cody stroked Ace’s neck again, and the horse lifted his head. There weren’t many horses like Ace. He could sense a person’s feelings, a person’s mood. Now, for instance, when Cody wanted to wrestle with his feelings, Ace was content to graze and take only a few small steps in either direction. And when Ali was sick, when Ace could tell her breathing wasn’t right, he would lift his head high, giving her something to rest against until she caught her breath.

  Cody looked at his wedding ring, the simple white gold band he still wore. If Ali were alive today, if she were here with him, well enough to ride across the back field with him, he knew without a doubt what she would say about Carl Joseph’s situation.

  Ali and her sister were both born with cystic fibrosis, and for the first decade of their lives they stayed indoors. Their parents bought special air filters and did everything possible to keep allergens and dust from entering. Ali and her sister would sit by their bedroom window and dream of running across the grassy hills and over to the neighbor’s barn and the horses he kept there.

  Ali rode horses even after her doctor told her it would take years off her life to do so. She rode because she wanted to live her life, not sit it out. Ali was a dreamer and a doer, and if she had known Carl Joseph longer, she would’ve been supportive of the ILC from the beginning, and she would’ve cheered its purpose.

  Even when she knew her death was coming, she lived every day, every final moment to the fullest. He pictured Elle Dalton and her tireless work with Carl Joseph and the other students. Elle wasn’t so different from Ali, really. They both understood that risk was a necessary part of living.

  Cody gave a light nudge with the reins, and Ace started walking back to the barn. One autumn, a year before she died, Ali was walking beside Cody in the mountains when she stopped and stared at a tree whose leaves were brilliant red with just a hint of gold.

  “Funny, isn’t it?” She picked up a red one from the ground. “A leaf’s most beautiful days are at the very end, just before it dies.”

  He had listened, watching her, memorizing her.

  “Sort of like me.” She met his eyes, leaned up, and kissed him. “These are the most beautiful days of all, Cody. The ones I want you to remember.”

  The sun was behind the hills now. Streaky pinks and pale blues filled the sky. He’d had enough loss to last him a lifetime, without having something happen to his younger brother. But it would be worse to watch him waste away at home, having never done even the simplest things he dreamed of doing.

  Maybe he could move out with Carl Joseph, and the two of them could live together. That might make things a little safer for Carl Joseph. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his doubts overshadowed it. He and Carl Joseph were better off with the friendship they used to share. His buddy didn’t want him acting as the teacher. He wanted to do things on his own. Cody would only hold him back.

  Cody sucked in another breath of sweet early night air.

  Then there was the phone call he’d gotten earlier today. A vice president from the network had phoned. Apparently, Cody’s agent had given a verbal commitment that Cody would return to the circuit.

  “We could use you, Gunner,” the man told him. “The fans love you. I need an answer by the end of the week.”

  An ache filtered through his chest. In the end, it probably made the most sense to go back. Bull riding was what he knew, what he was good at. And it would take him away from Elle Dalton—a woman who clearly wasn’t interested. Either way, his decision about the circuit didn’t matter nearly as much as the one his parents needed to make, the one about Carl Joseph’s future.

  Cody pressed his heels lightly to Ace’s side, and the horse began to gallop. He released the tension on the reins, and Ace moved into a full run. The details weren’t clear, but somehow he had to change his parents’ minds. Cody leaned down close to Ace’s neck and squinted against the wind. Carl Joseph would tell him to pray about it. And prayer had certainly helped yesterday. He was getting closer to the barn, and in the fading sunlight he could see someone standing near the back of the house. As he came nearer, he saw it wasn’t one person, but three. Carl Joseph and . . . He strained forward, trying to make them out, until finally, he knew. His heart skipped a beat and he sat up straight in the saddle.

  It was Elle Dalton and her student, Daisy.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Elle couldn’t take her eyes off Cody. The way he looked in the fading sunlight, flying across the field on the beautiful palomino. Together they made a picture of strength and grace and beauty. She wasn’t here to see Cody, but it was impossible not to look.

  She turned away and watched her sister and Carl Joseph, slow dancing on the fresh-cut grass. Carl Joseph’s mother had called with the news, and Daisy had heard her half of the conversation.

  “CJ is sick?” Daisy had tugged on her arm. “Is he sick, Elle? Tell me if he’s sick.”

  Elle held her finger to her lips and gave her sister a sharp look. But Daisy wouldn’t be ignored. Finally, Elle had to ask Carl Joseph’s mother to hold on while she explained to her sister that CJ was okay. A discussion of epilepsy could come later.

  “Take me to him, Elle . . . I have a Minnie picture for him. Please!” Daisy tugged on her again. “Please, Elle!”

  Finally, Elle relented. “Would you mind if Daisy and I came by after dinner?”

  Carl Joseph’s mother sounded tired, but she said she was grateful for the offer. “We could all use a reason to smile.”

  Elle had another reason for coming to the Gunner house tonight. She wanted to meet Cody’s wife. She scanned the area adjacent to the driveway. Was his wife here? According to Carl Joseph, Cody was home for six weeks. So where was his wife? Did she stay back in whatever city Cody had come from?

  The pieces of his story didn’t add up.

  She heard Cody’s horse getting closer, so she shifted back toward the pasture and watched Cody ride into the barn. The news about Carl Joseph must’ve been devastating for him. If he was hurting, she had to be especially careful. His behavior yesterday when he held her hand, and the way she enjoyed it, still burned in her conscience. She wouldn’t cross that line again today.

  A few feet away, Carl Joseph was explaining the situation to Daisy. “Brother has to put Ace in there ’cause it’s bedtime.” He was talking loudly, probably trying to impress Daisy with his horse knowledge.

  “But horses don’t lay down to sleep, right?” Daisy was standing next to Carl Joseph, leaning against his arm.

  “ ’Cause they don’t have beds.” He laughed hard, and she did, too. “Isn’t that funny, Daisy? ’Cause horses don’t have beds.”

  Cody came out of the barn toward them. The closer he came, the more Elle was sure she could see something different in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before. A compassion and empathy that seemed directed straight at her. She felt her guard go up. He’s married, Elle . . . Don’t be crazy. God, help me keep my head.

  “Hi.” He folded hi
s arms and looked at Daisy. “I see your teacher took the long way home.”

  Daisy laughed. “I’m not allowed to call her Teacher after class.”

  Suddenly Elle realized how little Cody knew about her. She moved closer to Daisy and took her hand. “Daisy’s my sister.” She looked at Cody. “You didn’t know that?”

  Cody’s expression went blank, and then filled with wonder. “You’re her . . . she’s your . . .”

  Cody was clearly shocked by the news, but more than that, he seemed touched by it. Elle allowed a nervous laugh. How had she missed telling him this detail before? They would’ve found common ground on the issue of independent living so much sooner.

  He was still looking at her, searching her eyes, when Carl Joseph walked up to him and tugged on his denim shirtsleeve. “Brother, look at this.” He held out a painted picture. “She drew me Minnie Mouse.” The painting was meticulously done, and at the top, Daisy had written, Daisy wants CJ to come back.

  A smile lifted the corners of Cody’s lips. “It’s beautiful.” He winked at Daisy. “Nice work.”

  “Thanks.” She was beaming. Whatever ill feelings she had had toward Cody Gunner, they were gone now. Daisy pulled a picture from behind her back. “And look what CJ gave me. Mickey for D-A-I-S-Y. And that’s the very best gift of all.”

  Again Cody appreciated the artwork, and the painstaking way that Carl Joseph had spelled out Daisy’s name across the top. Her name was still one of the few words he could consistently spell correctly.

  Carl Joseph said something quiet to Daisy, and the two of them laughed again. Elle took the moment to approach Cody. Keep it professional, she told herself. She crossed her arms. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” He walked a few yards away from their noisy siblings, and she followed. “My mom told you, huh?”

  “Yes. His diagnosis isn’t good.” Elle kept her distance.

  Cody put one foot up on the split-rail fence. It wasn’t dark, but shadows were falling across the yard. Cody stared into the distance, heartbreak glistening in his eyes. “Just when he was starting to really live.”

  The back door of the house opened, and Mrs. Gunner stuck her head out. “I sliced up some apples,” she called. “Carl Joseph, maybe you can bring your friend in for a snack.”

  Carl Joseph cupped his hands around his mouth. “Apples all alone or with peanut butter?”

  “Peanut butter.” There was a laugh in Mrs. Gunner’s voice.

  “Goodie!” Carl Joseph clapped loudly and took Daisy’s hand. “Come on, Daisy . . . ’cause my mom makes the best apples and peanut butter in the whole Rocky Mountains.”

  Elle watched them skip toward the back door and disappear into the house. She moved a step farther away from Cody. Though the night was warm, a shiver passed over her arms. The song of faraway crickets mixed with the breeze and heightened her awareness of Cody a few feet away. She tried to concentrate. “The other doctor . . . he has methods for helping patients remember to take their medicine. Ways an epileptic patient can be certain not to forget.”

  Cody studied her, and for a while he said nothing. Then he leaned back again on his elbows. “You’re uncomfortable around me.”

  It wasn’t a question, so at first Elle wasn’t sure how to respond. But anger mixed with her curiosity and she put her hands on her hips. “Which might be a good thing, don’t you think?”

  Cody wiped his brow with the back of his hand, but his eyes stayed locked on hers. “Because you still think I’m your enemy?”

  “No.” A sound came from her that was part laugh, part frustration. “Because of your wife.”

  Disbelief flashed in Cody’s eyes, and then faded. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he must’ve changed his mind because he pushed away from the fence and took three steps toward the barn. He stopped and slowly faced her again. “You’re serious?”

  Elle prided herself on being in control of a situation. But she had clearly lost all sense of it here. What was he implying? That he wasn’t the least bit interested, or that it was okay for the two of them to have feelings for each other despite the fact that he was married?

  She exhaled in a huff and moved a few feet closer. “Of course I’m serious. I never hear about her, Cody.” She looked back at the house and tossed her hands. “So where is she? What’s her name?”

  This time an undeniable sorrow colored his expression. “Her name’s Ali.” He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and his voice fell a notch. “She died four years ago.”

  Elle felt her heart sink to her knees. “What?” Her voice was a whisper, the news hitting her in waves. All these weeks? The whole time she’d been assuming he was married, when . . . “Cody . . .” She covered her face, mortified and humiliated and broken because of the loss the man across from her had faced. She let her hands fall slowly to her sides. “I’m so sorry.”

  Absently, he rubbed the ring on his left hand. “Maybe you and I need to take a ride.”

  Elle wasn’t sure where to or how long they’d be gone. But she wanted to go wherever Cody Gunner might take her, and she wanted to know his story, wanted to understand every detail.

  Because maybe then she would understand the man behind it.

  CODY WASN’T SURE whether to laugh or cry.

  It was his wedding ring, obviously. That and maybe something Carl Joseph had said. But either way now he finally understood the way she’d felt around him. She thought he was a married man. Of course she hadn’t acted interested. Not that it mattered much now, because he was going back to the circuit. His life would be on the road, and hers would be here with her students.

  But he still wanted the next hour or so to clear the air.

  He led her to his pickup and opened the passenger door. When he was behind the wheel, he started the engine and drove through a gate on his parents’ property. “There’s a road along the side of our ranch. . . . It leads to a bluff.” He drove slowly along the dirt road. “From there you can see a million stars.”

  The ride took only a few minutes, and then Cody parked and grabbed a flashlight from his glove box. As he did, his hand brushed against her knee. He tried not to notice, but it was impossible. They climbed out and he took her hand, using the flashlight to navigate the path the last fifteen feet to an outcropping of rocks at the top of a small hill.

  He waited until she was seated before releasing her hand and turning off the flashlight. For a few seconds he said nothing, just let the warm breeze wash over him, clearing the air between them. He leaned back on his hands and looked up. A carpet of stars covered the sky. “See . . . the first time I found this place at night—about a year ago—I thought it must be a little bit what heaven’s like.” His voice was quiet, gentle.

  “It’s beautiful.” Her teeth chattered and she rubbed her arms.

  “Cold?” He started to get up. “I have a sweatshirt in the back.”

  “No . . .” She touched his arm. “I’m fine . . . just . . . just shocked.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “About your wife.”

  “You saw my ring?”

  “That. And Carl Joseph told me you were married.” Her sad smile was just barely visible in the light of the stars. “He said your wife was a horse rider. Of course he said you were a bull rider.”

  “Ali was a barrel racer.” His voice grew softer. “One of the best ever.”

  Elle shifted so she was facing him. “Really? Professional rodeo?”

  “Yes.” He tried not to picture her, the way she had looked tearing around the barrels. “Buddy was right about me, too.”

  “You’re a bull rider?” Elle sounded embarrassed, frazzled. “Wow . . . what else have I missed?”

  “I rode bulls full-time for a while. Gave it up a year after Ali died.” He smiled. “Carl Joseph will always see me as a bull rider, but these days I work the shows. Keeps me involved.”

  “So . . . you met her through the rodeo.”

  “I did. I was the first person outside her family who kn
ew she was sick.” The sound of an owl drifted on the breeze from a few hills over. Cody felt Elle shiver again, and this time he didn’t wait for her to refuse. He popped up, turned on the flashlight, and took long strides back to the truck. He grabbed the sweatshirt, jogged back up the hill, and handed it to her. “Wear this.”

  She slipped it on, and in the process she moved closer to him. “She was sick? That’s how she died?”

  “She had cystic fibrosis.” He hadn’t told Ali’s story for a long time. Doing so now made his time with her seem far removed. Almost as if it had happened to someone else.

  “CF.” Elle sighed, and for a few seconds she was quiet. “I did a paper on it in college.” She faced him again. “You knew, then, when you married her . . .”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her the rest of the story, but he’d come this far. He drew a steady breath. “I gave her one of my lungs.”

  “Cody . . .” A quiet groan came from her. “You gave her a lung, and it didn’t work?”

  “It worked.” He had no regrets; he never would. “The doctors told us the transplant would buy her three years, and it did.” He paused. “About a thousand tomorrows.”

  Elle’s eyes glistened. “The way you love your brother . . .” She sniffed, sadness spilling into her voice. “I understand better now.”

  “I can’t imagine losing him.” Cody turned his gaze up toward the stars. “But I can’t imagine him spending his last years at home watching Nickelodeon, either.” He reached for her hand. “He has to get back to the center, Elle. Help me find a way.”

  “I will.” She didn’t sound convinced. “I guess I had that wrong, too.”

  “You thought it was me—that I was standing in Buddy’s way?”

  “Yes. I mean”—she seemed flustered again—“I knew it was your parents’ choice, but I figured after the accident you talked them into pulling him out.”