She closed her hand around the staff, but her grip failed and the wind pulled it from her grasp. Brian caught it before it hit the ground.
“I can’t do it.” Tears sprang up in her eyes, blurring her vision.
“You can do it, honey. God didn’t bring you and Dakota this far to fail you now. Have faith, Lindsey. I have faith in you. Give me your hand.”
He placed the end of the rod into the metal cup on her stirrup and folded her fingers around the staff. “Which color in our flag stands for courage?”
“The colors have no official meaning, but to me, all of them stand for courage.”
“Show me that courage now.”
She closed her eyes and willed her grip to strengthen. An instant later, she heard the sound of tearing cloth and looked down. With the flag braced against his shoulder, Brian ripped a piece of tape from a wide, white roll and made a quick loop around her wrist.
“Open your fingers.”
She did and he made two quick passes around the staff and then back around her wrist. The tape blended with her white gloves. When she closed her fingers, it didn’t show on the pole.
“Now you don’t have to be afraid. You couldn’t drop it if you tried.”
“Brian, you’re a genius.”
“Be sure and tell Jennifer that when we get back.”
“I haven’t turned in my reenlistment papers,” she said quickly.
“Why not? I hope it wasn’t because of anything I said.”
“I love the service, but maybe it’s time for me to make a change in my life.”
“Whatever you decide to do, I’m behind you 100 percent. If you want to remain in the army, we’ll find a way to make it work for both of us.”
“What about your research? You love your work.”
“I do, but I love you more. If we are meant to be together, the Lord will show us the path.”
“Proverbs 16:9, A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.”
Grinning, he patted Dakota’s neck. “He certainly directed my steps to you.”
Looking into his love-filled eyes, Lindsey smiled. “Yes, he did. And the answer to your question is yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“You will? But I can’t kiss you up on that horse. Lean down here.”
“Meet me after the parade,” she suggested with a wink. “I love you, Brian Cutter.”
“I love you, too. Now, go make me proud.”
Nodding, she touched her spurs to Dakota’s sides and rode to the head of the column.
“This is for you, Danny,” Lindsey whispered.
Suddenly she knew she wasn’t alone. The wind died away to a gentle breeze and a deep warmth surrounded her. An inner strength filled her and her grip on the flag’s staff tightened. This had all been a part of His plan.
Thank You, Lord, for giving me this day.
Captain Watson gave the command to move out. The Commanding General’s Mounted Color Guard left the staging area and rode out to take their place on Pennsylvania Avenue.
As Brian watched her ride away, his heart was filled with more happiness than he had ever expected to know again. A second later, Karen was pulling at his sleeve.
“Come on. If we hurry, we can find Dad and Danny before Lindsey passes by. They’re going to be in front of the Hoover Building. It’s only a couple of blocks.”
Following her, he tried to hurry, but she soon disappeared into the crowd. Looking up at the tall, imposing structures lining the street, he wondered if he would recognize the Hoover Building when he saw it.
Just when he had decided to rest and watch the presidential detail passing by, Karen appeared at his side. “They’re right over here. Come on.”
“Right over here” turned out to be another block. He was gritting his teeth against the pain in his hip by the time Karen announced, “There they are.”
He slowed down to catch his breath. Karen hurried toward a man in a wheelchair stationed at the curbside and threw her arms around him. When the man didn’t hug her in return, Brian realized what a high price Danny Mandel had paid for the idea of freedom in a country half the world away. Karen knelt beside him and motioned to Brian.
Stepping closer, Brian nodded to the man about his own age held strapped upright in a specially designed chair. Karen quickly made the introductions to Danny, his wife and to Lindsey’s father.
Danny grinned. “So you’re the rabbit guy Lindsey is always talking about.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
Abigail extended her hand. “Dr. Cutter, I want to thank you for the information you sent about hippotherapy. We found out that the Old Guard has a program here. We’re looking into it.”
“That’s great.” Brian shook her hand then turned to the senior Mandel. Lindsey’s father was an imposing man. Brian could only hope he wouldn’t object to a civilian marrying his daughter. With his gray hair still short in a military buzz, he looked quite capable of holding his own in any kind of a fight.
“Thanks for getting my daughter and my boy’s horse here. It means a lot to us.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
“Oh, look, here they come.” Karen pushed Danny’s chair closer to the curb. Marching in a straight line, Lindsey’s unit passed by, pride evident in everyone’s ramrod-straight bearing. Lindsey was looking straight ahead, but Dakota swung his head toward them and whinnied loudly.
Karen dropped to her brother’s side. “He remembers you.”
“He did, didn’t he? But he never broke stride. He’s a trouper. I’m glad he made it into Lindsey’s unit. I’m so proud of both of them.”
“Not half as proud as Lindsey is of you,” Brian said, laying a hand on Danny’s shoulder.
On the other side of them, a young man with a press badge stepped closer. “Excuse me, do you have family in the parade?”
Karen rose, smiling at the young man. “My sister.”
“Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about her? The magazine I work for is looking for a common-man angle to the Inauguration.”
“There’s nothing common about my family,” Mr. Mandel declared, turning back to the parade.
Karen wrinkled her nose and stepped closer to the reporter. “Don’t mind my dad. But he is right. This is no common family. My sister is a sergeant in the army, my brother here, Danny, was also in the army until he was wounded in action. After that, he selflessly donated his beloved horse to my sister’s unit at Fort Riley. Then what happened? The horse fell and broke his leg.”
She paused to catch her breath. The reporter was quickly making notes.
She looked at Brian and winked. “That’s when Dr. Brian Cutter, that’s Cutter with a C, came to our rescue. He used a new gene therapy to heal Dakota’s leg in record time.”
Looking around at her family, a mischievous glint brightened her eyes. “Did I mention to everyone that he’s going to marry Lindsey?”
* * *
Hours later, when the parade was finished and the crowds had dispersed, Brian waited beside the equine ambulance while Lindsey visited with her family. Still dressed in her turn-of-the-century uniform, the woman Brian loved with his whole heart finally made her way to his side. He slipped his arm across her shoulders as she slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him. Standing together, they drew comfort and happiness from each other. He looked down at her but she was watching Danny and Dakota.
It was obvious that Danny was tired but just as obvious that he wasn’t ready to go home. Joy radiated from his expression. Dakota stood beside his wheelchair nuzzling his former master’s face and searching his pockets in hopes of hidden treats. The smile that Abigail flashed at Brian made every minute of the long trip worthwhile
.
“Thank you,” Lindsey whispered.
“It was nothing,” he answered softly.
“Oh, it was certainly something, Dr. Brian Cutter. How can I ever repay you?”
He looked down at her and smiled. “I’m sure I can think of something, darling.”
Her soft laughter in response was all he needed to make this day and every day of his life—complete.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Rancher's Refuge by Linda Goodnight.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Lindsey and Brian’s journey toward love. The story of The Color of Courage was inspired by an actual event. I first met members of a mounted color guard when a detachment led the parade that opened the county fair near my hometown in Abilene, Kansas, in 2005. I assumed the young men dressed in 1860s period cavalry uniforms were local reenactors. I soon learned that they were active duty soldiers from Fort Irwin, California. The men, some recently returned from Iraq, were proud to share information about their unit and others like it. From them I learned about the Commanding General’s Mounted Color Guard at Fort Riley, Kansas.
I knew I wanted to do a story about such a unit, but I wasn’t sure where to start so I turned to the internet for some research. It was online that I first read about a horse named Ike from the CGMCG who suffered a fractured pastern and how the Kansas State College of Veterinary Medicine teamed up with the army to save his life. Ike was still in recovery when the rest of his unit went to Washington, D.C., for the 2005 Inaugural parade. When I read that bit of information, my story was born.
I had the privilege of visiting with the men and women of the Commanding General’s Mounted Color Guard and I witnessed firsthand their feats of horsemanship. While their skill is truly extraordinary, it is their pride in serving their country and preserving a part of our history that impressed me the most. My words cannot do justice to their sacrifices and dedication.
Innumerable people helped with the research that went into writing this story. I’d like to thank Patrice Scott, media relations at K-Sate; Dr. James Lillich, DVM, MS associate professor, Equine Ortho and General Surgery at K-State; the department of public relations at Fort Riley; former unit commander Shane Pruente; and the men and women currently serving at Fort Riley. Any mistakes I made in writing this book are entirely my own fault.
Questions for Discussion
Brian had never been able to move past his guilt over his wife’s death. Why do you believe he couldn’t?
Should women in the army be allowed to serve in combat units? Why or why not?
Lindsey kept Dakota’s condition from her brother until the very last minute. Was she right to do so? Why?
Hippotherapy is gaining recognition as a valuable form of rehabilitation. Is there a program in your area? How can you find out?
What two characters were most instrumental in getting Lindsey and Brian together?
Brian found it hard to believe that faith in God and military service go hand in hand. Do you believe that they do? Why or why not?
What lesson did Lindsey have to learn before she was ready to fall in love? How was that expressed in the story?
How did the humor in the story add to its enjoyment?
Did any element in the story affect how you view military service? Why?
Was Lindsey’s decision to leave the army the right one? Why or why not?
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.
Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Chapter One
Left hand riding lightly on his thigh, Austin Blackwell held the reins with the other and picked his way through the thick woods above Whisper Falls, Arkansas. If one more calf strayed into this no-man’s land between his ranch and the cascading waterfall, he was putting up another fence. A really tall one. Barbed wire. Electrified. Let the folks of the small Ozark town whine and bellow that he was ruining the ambience or whatever they called the pristine beauty of these deep woods. They just didn’t want to lose any tourist money. Well, he didn’t want to lose any cattle money, either. So they were on even playing field. He’d never wanted to open the waterfall to tourism in the first place.
Now, every yahoo with an itch to climb down the rock wall cliff and duck behind the curtain of silvery water traipsed all over his property just to mutter a prayer or two. Wishful thinking or pure silliness. He’d made the trek a few times himself and he could guarantee prayers whispered there or anywhere else for that matter were a waste of good breath.
Something moved through the dense trees at his left and Austin pulled the horse to a stop. Cisco flicked his ears toward the movement, alert and ready to break after the maverick at the flinch of his master’s knee.
“Easy,” Austin murmured, patting the sleek brown neck while he scoped the woods, waiting for a sight or sound. Above him a squirrel chattered, getting ready for winter. Autumn leaves in reds and golds swirled down from the branches. Sunlight dappled between the trees, although the temperature was cool enough that Austin’s jacket felt good.
He pressed his white Stetson tighter and urged the bay onward in the direction of the falls, the direction from which the movement had come. Might be the maverick.
“Coyote, probably.” But black bear and cougar weren’t out of the question. He tapped the rifle holster, confident he could handle anything he encountered in the woods. Outside the ranch was a different matter.
The roar of the falls increased as he rode closer. Something moved again and he twisted in the saddle to see the stray heifer break from the opposite direction. Cisco responded with the training of a good cutting horse. Austin grappled for the lariat rope as the calf split to the right and crashed through the woods to disappear down a draw.
Cisco wisely put on the brakes and waited for instructions. Austin lowered the rope, mouth twisting in frustration. No use endangering a good horse in this rugged, uneven terrain.
At least the stray had headed in the right direction, back toward the ranch.
“Yep, I’m puttin’ up another fence.” He patted Cisco’s neck with a leather-gloved hand. Somewhere along the meager stretch of old barbed wire the calves had found a place to slip through. Maybe in one of the low places or through a washout from one of the many creeks branching from the Blackberry River. Finding the break across three miles of snaggy underbrush would be a challenge.
But Austin liked it up here on the grassy, leaf- and hickory-lined ridge above Whisper Falls. Always had, especially before the stories started and people came with their noise and tents and plastic water bottles. Before the name changed from Millerville to Whisper Falls—a town council decision to attract tourists. He understood. He really did. Ruggedly beautiful, this area of the Ozarks was isolated. Transportation was poor and there was little opportunity for economic growth, especially since the pumpkin cannery shut down.
The remoteness was why he’d come here. The economy was why he ranched.
Those were also the reasons the little town had changed its name and started the ridiculous marketing campaign to attract tourism. Whisper Falls. Austin snorted. No amount of marketing moved God to a
nswer prayers.
He shifted in the saddle to look toward the ninety-feet-high waterfall.
Here, the Blackberry River tumbled faster than near the ranch, picking up speed before plummeting over the cliff in a white, foamy, spectacular display of nature’s force and beauty.
The solitude of the woods soothed him, helped him forget. Nature didn’t judge the way people would. He could be himself. He could relax.
The air was clean here, too, tinted with the spray of freshness from the bubbling falls. It almost made him feel clean inside again. Almost. He breathed the crispness into his lungs, held the scent. Hickory and river, moist earth and rotting leaves. Good smells to an outdoorsman. Great smells to a man whose past stank like sewage.
“Better get moving, Cisco. Maybe we can find the fence break before dark.”
He pulled the bay around and that’s when he saw the woman. A slim figure in dark slacks and bright blue sweater moved quickly from tree to tree in some game of hide-and-seek. Curious, Austin took out his field glasses to look around, expecting a child or lover to join the game. No one did.
Austin swung the binoculars back to the woman. What he saw spurred him to action.
* * *
Annalisa Keller stifled a sob. She had to hide. She had to get away. “Please, God. Help.”
She heard him coming, thrashing, crashing through the dry leaves and underbrush like the madman he was. Knees rattling, she cradled her left arm and stumbled down the rocky incline. Straight ahead, the falls roared, a rush of sound with the power to sweep her away. The thought tempted, beckoned. Jump in and be swept away. He could never find her. No one would.
Teeth chattering, she resisted the frightening urge. The instinct to survive was too strong. She couldn’t give up now.
His Bundle of Love / the Color of Courage Page 41
