by Myra Johnson
With Gracie on one side, Marie and the children on the other, she reluctantly turned her back on the crash scene and the man who’d claimed her heart.
Chapter Fourteen
“Here, drink this.” Marie set a steaming cup of herbal tea in front of Christina. It smelled like chamomile.
She hadn’t stopped shaking, even with Marie’s plush crocheted afghan wrapped around her shoulders and Gracie curled up at her feet.
Joseph turned from the front window, where he’d been keeping watch ever since they came inside. “The tow trucks just left. Dad and Opi are coming up the lane.”
A few minutes later, the back door swung open and Seth clomped into the kitchen. He looked hot, dirty and exhausted. He flung his Stetson toward the hat rack and missed, then ignored it and went straight to the fridge for a canned soft drink.
“Will those horses be all right?” Marie asked.
“Looks like it. Opi’s out there with the owner and Doc Ingram.” Seth’s gaze met Christina’s, and a look of comprehension darkened his features. He set down his drink and strode to the table to kneel at her side. “Baby, are you okay?”
She started to nod, then shook her head rapidly. “No...no, I’m not okay.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she clung to him with a ferocity to match Eva’s hold on her only an hour ago. “I was so scared. I thought you were—”
“I’m fine.” Easing back far enough to look deeply into her eyes, he took her hand and placed it on his cheek. “See? Not a scratch.”
His day’s growth of whiskers rasped against her palm. His gaze, so full of love and reassurance, made her choke back a sob.
Rising, he snugged the afghan around her. “You should rest. Let me take you back to your cabin.”
“No, I want to stay with you.” She latched on to his hand.
He pulled a chair closer and sat facing her. “I’m right here, Christina. I won’t leave your side.”
She nodded weakly, shame filling her. She was supposed to be getting stronger, not falling apart like this. Not days before she should be starting back to work at Child Protective Services.
Eva appeared at Seth’s side and tugged on his shirtsleeve. “Is Miss Christina sick?”
“She had a bad scare, sugar. I’m gonna take care of her.” He planted a kiss on Eva’s head, then turned to his son, who now leaned on the windowsill to watch the goings-on at the barn. “Joseph, take your sister in the other room and read her a story, okay?”
“Aw, Dad, I wanna see—”
“Now, Joseph. Please.”
As the children trudged out of the kitchen, Marie brought Seth’s soft drink to the table and handed him a moist washcloth. “This’ll help cool you off.”
Watching beads of perspiration slip down Seth’s temples, Christina thought how odd it was that she should feel so cold. With a shaky breath, she reached for her mug of tea and took a careful sip. Seth offered a smile of approval, then gulped from his frosty soda can.
Marie slumped into a chair at the other end of the table. “What exactly happened out there, Seth? Did they figure out who was at fault?”
“Looks like O’Grady will be ticketed for distracted driving. Said he was trying to answer a cell phone call and didn’t see the other guy.” As Seth described the accident, Christina couldn’t keep herself from listening. At Joseph’s warning, Seth had barely stopped in time to miss Greg O’Grady’s SUV as the man pulled out onto the road. O’Grady had swerved straight into the path of the oncoming pickup pulling the horse trailer, then overcorrected and landed in the ditch. When the pickup driver braked, the trailer jackknifed. O’Grady’s air bag saved him from anything more serious than a bloody nose and bruised ribs. The man pulling the trailer suffered a bruised shoulder, and one of his horses would need a leg wound sewn up.
“Oh, my,” Marie said. “It could have been so much worse.”
The woman’s words, though spoken softly, launched an eruption of panic inside Christina. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she couldn’t catch a full breath. The half-empty cup slipped from her fingers, spilling tea across the table before it teetered on the edge and splintered on the tile floor.
Gracie skittered out of the way as both Seth and Marie hurried over. “That settles it,” Marie stated, bundling Christina into her arms. “You’re staying in our guest room tonight, sweetie, and I’m taking you upstairs to tuck you in right now.”
She hadn’t the strength to argue, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Even with Gracie at her side, she didn’t think she could bear staying alone in the cabin. Dear God, this can’t be happening again!
Marie guided her toward the hallway. “Honey, do you have some medicine you can take, something to calm your nerves and help you rest?”
“My pills...in the medicine cabinet.”
“Seth, go see what she’s got over there. And get back here lickety-split.”
* * *
Seth wasted no time jogging over to Christina’s cabin. He found several prescription bottles in the bathroom and grabbed them all. Then it occurred to him that Christina might not be coherent enough to know which pills to take, or remember what she’d already taken today so she didn’t overdose.
Debating whether to call the doctor listed on the prescription bottles, he spotted Christina’s cell phone on the coffee table and on a whim tried the health info icon. A list of emergency contact numbers appeared on the screen. He pressed the call button for the top name, Christina’s parents.
Her mother answered almost immediately. “Chrissy! How are you, sweetie?”
Seth cringed, dreading how his news would upset the woman. “Ma’am, it’s Seth Austin. I’m sorry, but we’ve got a problem here.”
As he explained the situation, Mrs. Hunter’s anxious gasps sounded in his ear. “Oh, poor Chrissy. I’ve been expecting a call like this ever since she went to work for you.”
Bristling at her comment, Seth struggled to keep his tone polite. “Until today, she was doing great. If you’ll just tell me how we can help her, I’m sure—”
“I’m sure this is beyond your level of expertise. What’s your nearest major airport?”
“San Antonio, but—”
“Christina’s father and I will be on the soonest possible flight. Give me a number where we can call for directions after we rent a car.”
All Seth could think about was how hard Christina had worked to regain her independence. If her parents swooped in now to rescue her, it could mean an even worse setback. “Mrs. Hunter, please don’t come. Give her a chance to pull out of this on her own.”
“Christina is our daughter, and she needs us!” The woman’s pitch and volume climbed with every word. “How can you even suggest we stay away?”
“You want what’s best for her, don’t you?” Seth pinched the bridge of his nose as he searched for the right words. “I’m a parent, too, and believe me, I understand how badly you want to help and protect Christina. But there comes a time in every parent-child relationship when you’ve got to let go and trust God.”
Mrs. Hunter sniffed. “I know... I know,” she replied, her tone softening. “And I do trust God. But we love Chrissy so much, and after all she’s been through, how can we not worry?”
Seth had no answer, because even as he got better at loosening his grip on his own children, he still couldn’t completely shut down the worry factor. “Tell you what. I’ll read off these prescription labels and you tell me what Christina should be taking. Let’s see how she does between now and tomorrow morning. You can always come later if she needs you.”
A pause. “You’ll call me right away if she gets worse?”
“Of course. But let’s pray that doesn’t happen.”
Armed with Mrs. Hunter’s instructions about Christina’s medications, Seth tucked the phone into his
pocket and sprinted back to the house. After a quick check on the kids, still reading together in the family room, Seth headed upstairs. In the guest room, his grandmother had pulled a rocking chair close to the bed where Christina shivered under a quilt. Gracie snuggled close beside her, chin resting on her paws and eyes alert with unmistakable concern.
Seth signaled Omi to join him in the hallway, then handed her the prescription bottles as he related his phone call with Mrs. Hunter.
Omi studied the labels. She kept one vial out, then stuffed the rest into her pocket. “Fetch a glass of water.”
Once they convinced Christina to swallow the pills, it wasn’t long before the shivering subsided and she drifted into what Seth hoped would prove restful sleep.
He doubted he’d sleep at all until he knew Christina would be okay.
When evening neared, he sat with Christina while his grandmother cobbled together a light supper of leftovers for the family. She brought a plate up to Seth, but he only picked at his food. Mostly he just watched Christina and prayed.
Later, the kids asked to peek in before getting ready for bed. When Eva stood on tiptoe to kiss Christina’s forehead, she barely stirred. Giving Gracie a hug, Eva whispered, “You take good care of her, okay, girl?”
The dog responded with a tongue-swipe across Eva’s hand, then scooted deeper into the curve of Christina’s body.
Seth wished he had a right to do the same, to cradle and comfort and encourage the woman he grew to love more every day.
* * *
Morning brought little change. Christina roused long enough to swallow her medications and for Seth’s grandmother to coax a little warm broth down her throat. Then she slept again. Seth dutifully phoned Mrs. Hunter with a report and once again pleaded for more time. The woman reluctantly agreed, provided Seth promised to call regularly.
Ranch chores and getting Joseph to and from school kept Seth occupied for a good part of the day, but he looked in on Christina every chance he got. When he went upstairs after lunch, he found Eva sitting in the rocking chair with a big storybook on her lap and reading to Christina. She wasn’t getting all the words right, but the familiar fairy tale didn’t lose much in translation.
Even better, Christina was awake. She’d propped her head up on a couple of pillows, and with one arm draped across Gracie’s back, she seemed enthralled by Eva’s story.
The scene moved Seth so deeply that he didn’t have the heart to intrude.
Later, Omi encouraged Christina to eat a few bites of chicken noodle soup, after which she drifted back to sleep. Once he’d tucked the children into bed, Seth called Mrs. Hunter to report that her daughter had had a peaceful day.
On Thursday, Omi came up with a long list of jobs that needed to be handled before a family of four arrived for the weekend. For a change, Seth was glad they hadn’t had more bookings. He and his grandfather took care of freshening the cabin, then Omi sent Opi to town for groceries.
At lunch, Seth asked if he could take Christina’s tray up to her. He breathed a sigh of gratitude to find her on the love seat beneath the window, a Bible on her lap and Gracie snuggled at her side.
Her eyes brightened when she saw him in the doorway. “Hi, stranger.”
“Hi, yourself.” Seth entered and set the tray on the nightstand. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a slug. Honestly, I’m not even sure what day it is.”
“It’s Thursday. You’ve pretty much slept away the past couple of days.”
Chin dropping, she lifted a hand to her forehead. “I’m so sorry for bringing you and your grandparents into my drama.”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t help it.” Seth sank onto the other end of the love seat. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
With a quick intake of breath, Christina whisked away a tear. “Not as better as I ought to be by now. I feel so—so—” Her gaze swept the ceiling. “Weak. Incompetent. A complete and utter failure.”
“That’s ridiculous.” When Seth leaned over to scoop her into his arms, Gracie slid to the floor to keep from getting squashed. Seth ran his hand tenderly up and down Christina’s spine as she wept against his chest. “You had a bad scare, that’s all. This isn’t permanent, Chrissy. You’ll get through it.”
She tipped her head to shoot him an accusatory frown. “Nobody calls me Chrissy but my parents. You called them, didn’t you?”
He winced. “Guilty.” With a sheepish grin, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Don’t blame a guy for doing everything he can to take care of the woman he’s falling crazy in love with.”
“Oh, Seth...” She buried her face deep in the crook of his shoulder, her whole body shaking with smothered tears.
Had he said too much? These probably weren’t the best circumstances for professing the depth of his feelings, but he wanted her to know. Maybe if she realized how serious he was about being there for her, about wanting to spend the rest of his life with her—
“Christina,” he murmured against her hair, “I know you’re not feeling very strong right now, but you’ve pulled through before and you’ll do it again. And believe me when I say that nothing in your past, your present or your future will ever change how much I love you. If you’ll let me, I want to walk this journey with you, every step of the way.”
Long seconds passed before her head bobbed in an acquiescent nod. She straightened and brushed the wetness from her cheeks. “I love you, too, Seth—you must know I do. But I’m so confused now. I need time to think.”
“Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.” He wanted to kiss her so badly right now, but he held back. Instead, he reached for the tray. “How about some lunch?”
* * *
Confusion didn’t begin to encompass Christina’s jumbled feelings. High on the list were disillusionment and regret, followed close behind by guilt and shame. What hubris to believe two months of independent living could negate the trauma that two years of therapy, daily meds and the help of a service dog had really only masked?
She’d stubbornly refused to accept her doctor’s often repeated reminders that the complications of her head injury would likely cause issues for the rest of her life. Yes, with continued counseling and the passage of time, she might expect the PTSD to abate. Not so with the headaches, mood swings, occasional forgetfulness and a whole list of other annoying complaints.
It wasn’t fair—it simply wasn’t fair! Since her earliest memories she’d been drawn to the care of children. When playing with neighbor kids or the cousins who visited often, she always wanted to be the mother, the schoolteacher, the kindly doctor or nurse. As a teenager, she quickly proved herself a reliable and conscientious babysitter, turning down far more jobs than she could fit into her schedule.
Now, to lose forever the career she’d invested all her efforts to achieve, the work that fulfilled her like nothing else ever had—why, God?
And Seth, dear Seth. She’d fallen so hard for this man that just a glimpse of his quirky smile could take her breath away. But she’d denied that, too, at first because with their disparate goals in life she didn’t see how they could ever be together. And now...because she couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him with a lifetime of dealing with her weakness, her neediness, her infirmity.
She kept him at arm’s length for the rest of the day, and he seemed to accept her need for space. After another night in the Petersons’ guest room, she awoke Friday morning to the unmistakable smell of smoldering mesquite. Realizing Bryan must have fired up the smoker to barbecue for ranch guests, she suffered a different kind of guilt. Here she was, lazing in bed like pampered royalty while others assumed her housekeeping duties.
Throwing aside the covers, she thrust her feet to the floor. “Come on, Gracie, we’ve convalesced long enough.”
After freshening up in the bathroom, she c
hanged from Marie’s borrowed pajamas into the shorts and T-shirt she’d worn three days ago.
Marie met her on the stairs, breakfast tray in hand. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
“If I continue hiding away up here, I’ll go crazy—” Christina grimaced. “Crazier than I already am, anyway.”
“Now, honey—”
“It’s okay,” Christina interrupted with a forced laugh. “I’m kidding...mostly. Anyway, I need to be doing something. I need to feel—” An unexpected sob choked off the rest of her words.
Marie paused for only a second before doing a quick about-face and marching downstairs. Over her shoulder, she said, “All righty, then, come on to the kitchen and have some breakfast first. Afterward, there’s plenty to do, and I’m happy to put you to work.”
Christina could kiss the woman for being so understanding.
She also appreciated that Marie assigned small but necessary kitchen jobs—peeling carrots, chopping peppers, supervising Eva as she spooned cookie dough onto baking sheets—tasks that kept Christina busy without overtaxing her strength.
Whenever Seth’s duties brought him through the kitchen, he shared a smile and an encouraging nod but maintained his distance. Even so, Christina sensed his watchful eye and unspoken concern.
By Saturday, she felt much stronger physically, if still on the shaky side emotionally. When Marie sent Seth down to the lake to set up for the evening picnic, Christina offered her help.
“Are you sure?” Seth asked, a twist to his mouth.
With a mock scowl, she set her fists at her waist. “Is that a critique of my bluebonnet centerpieces?”
Her remark evoked the hoped-for laugh, along with a relieved grin. “Wouldn’t dream of insulting your centerpieces.”
Working alongside Seth to spread tablecloths and arrange candles and silk flowers felt good. Felt right. When they finished, Seth took her hand and led her down to the lakeshore. “It’s a gorgeous day. Let’s just sit for a while, okay?”
