Sheridan's Fate

by Gun Brooke

  “I have pictures on my computer somewhere, I think.” The thought of her laptop made Lark think of their chats, and her guilty conscience surfaced, banishing her good mood.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  Damn it! Lark knew that having an open-book kind of face wasn’t always in her favor. “Nothing,” she said, stalling. “Just tired, I guess. The weekend was pretty crazy.”

  “A full house at your parents’ place,” Sheridan agreed. “I haven’t been the subject of such friendly interrogation in a long time.”

  “Did it bother you?” Lark frowned. “I’m sorry. They can be pretty overwhelming.”

  “No, no, not at all,” Sheridan said and pulled herself up. She touched Lark’s temple with quick, light fingers. “They’re wonderful. Don’t apologize. I’m just not used to the normal, disorganized chatter among family members. It wasn’t like that in my family even when my mother was alive. She was ill for most of my life...” Sheridan shrugged. “I dreamed a lot about having siblings and a more ‘normal’ home. Instead I resented my father for being in denial about my mother’s illness, and for having to live in the mausoleum.”

  “The mausoleum? You call it that?”

  “I used to.”

  “So, did you feel like you were the only one who understood how ill your mother was?”

  “Close. I overheard my parents countless times discussing it. She would try to tell him how she felt, that she wasn’t well, and he would call her weak, say she wasn’t living up to the Ward standard. Mom wasn’t weak. She stood up to him and sought help, the best care the hospitals could provide back then, but even if she did live longer than they anticipated, she still lost the fight eventually.”

  Sheridan’s voice was slow, almost dreamy, as she recounted her childhood memories. “Daddy was devastated. He blamed himself for losing her. I couldn’t reach him or comfort him, and to tell the truth, I was very, very angry with him for not making her last years easier. Even after her diagnosis, he was in denial. He could have made her last months so much better. The doctors told us it was fruitless to subject Mom to any more chemo, yet he nagged her to try. She refused and he was furious, of course. He didn’t relent even on the day she died. I think that’s what killed him in the end. His behavior ate at him, and I didn’t help.”

  “What makes you say that?” Lark leaned her chin on her hand on the couch. Her temple still tingled from Sheridan’s unexpected little caress, and she could hardly believe that Sheridan had confided in her rather than the faceless Grey_bird.

  “Because as soon as Mom was gone, I packed my bags and left for Boston. I loved life there and didn’t return to assume my position until my father had his first signs of heart problems.”

  “Did the two of you reconcile?” Lark hoped so.

  “I suppose we did, but as true Wards, we didn’t acknowledge our truce openly. That would have been the same as admitting we had a problem, which my father never did. In business, he could find and diagnose a problem instantly, but in his personal life? Never.”

  “I’m glad that you were on good terms before he passed away.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  The sky outside was black, and Lark realized it was getting late. “How about if we turn in, so I can PT the living daylights out of you tomorrow?” she joked.

  “Good idea. I’m rather sleepy.”

  “All right. Come on, then.” Lark stood up and pulled the wheelchair close to the couch. Sheridan dislodged the armrest and moved over as if it was second nature. Lark didn’t have to help her but refrained from saying so. She wanted Sheridan to gradually discover her abilities in a natural way.

  “What do you need help with?” Lark asked as they moved toward the bedrooms. Sheridan had the master bedroom while Lark used Sheridan’s old room.

  “Just to undress and put on my sleepwear.”

  “No problem.”

  Lark pushed her own feelings aside and stepped into full caregiver mode as she helped Sheridan change. In order to help Sheridan, she would have to work hard on not blurring the lines when it came to these duties. A person who needed help with such intimate activities was entirely vulnerable. Lark waited while Sheridan used the bathroom, then helped her into bed.

  “If I wasn’t so tired, I could’ve shown you how much better I am at doing this.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Good.” Sheridan yawned as she took Lark’s hand. “Thank you for coming back. And for coming to Lake Travis with me.”

  “I’m glad to be back. Really.”

  Sheridan’s face lit up, her sleepy eyes a soft, dark gray. “Good night, Lark.”

  “’Night, Sheridan. I’ll leave the doors open so you can just call if you need me. I sleep lightly.”

  “Me...too.”

  Lark was certain Sheridan was already asleep before she had left the room.

  *

  Lark sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. Had Sheridan called her? The house was dark, except for the night-lights that Mr. Johnson had installed to guide anyone who got up in the middle of the night. Noticing that it was a bit brighter in one spot, Lark flipped the covers back and rose to investigate. She poked her head out into the corridor and saw a faint light around Sheridan’s half-open door. Curious, and a bit worried, Lark tiptoed across the hallway, the floor cool against her naked feet. She made sure she stood out of sight and peeked inside.

  Sheridan was awake and working on something on her laptop. Lark frowned, since this was not what she wanted Sheridan to do. She wanted her to get a good night’s sleep, but also knew if Sheridan couldn’t sleep, she’d go stir-crazy if she simply stared into the darkness. Lark was the same way.

  “Damn it, Grey_bird, where are you when I need you?”

  Lark’s mouth fell open and she stumbled backward, barely avoiding a bad fall. She held her breath as she listened for signs that Sheridan had noticed anything. When she heard only the sound of quick typing, she drew a silent breath of relief and snuck back into her room. She grabbed her laptop and logged on, knowing that she couldn’t stay away when Sheridan needed her, no matter in what capacity. Fortunately, the air card she’d just invested in allowed her to be online no matter her location, and she opened her chat window. It only took a second for Sheridan’s nickname to appear.

  Sheri_star: There you are. Just in the nick of time.

  Grey_bird: Hello to you too.

  Sheri_star: Sorry. Can’t sleep.

  Grey_bird: As you can see, I’m awake too.

  Sheri_star: You OK?

  Grey_bird: I’m fine. How about you?

  Sheri_star: I’m fine too. Just can’t sleep. I didn’t have any problem falling asleep, actually, but I woke up and that was it. Wide awake.

  Grey_bird: Any news?

  Sheri_star: Actually, yes. I rehired my physical therapist.

  Grey_bird: Oh, you did? That’s great! I hope?

  Lark knew she was fishing, but she needed to know.

  Sheri_star: Yes. Best thing I’ve done in a long time. I was just lucky she forgave me. But that’s just her, somehow. She understands.

  Grey_bird: Sounds good. I’m glad for you.

  Sheri_star: Me too. I just wish that your employer would see the light.

  Grey_bird: Actually, that was my news. I’ve got a new job.

  Sheri_star: Great! Doing what?

  Lark thought quickly.

  Grey_bird: Teaching.

  It wasn’t entirely a lie. She was teaching Sheridan how to train and practice. Lark ignored the small voice that claimed she still wasn’t telling the truth.

  Sheri_star: Sounds like your thing.

  Grey_bird: How do you mean?

  Sheri_star: You have tremendous patience.

  Grey_bird: :-) How could you possibly know?

  Sheri_star: You chat with *me*!

  Grey_bird: LOL! So true. That takes more than patience!

  Lark smiled broadly, afraid she might actually burst out laughing in the quiet house.

&
nbsp; Sheri_star: Told you. So, what should we do to pass the time?

  Grey_bird: If I was there, I could’ve sung you a lullaby.

  Sheri_star: I can think of other things to put me to sleep.

  Grey_bird: Sheri! We’ve talked about this. Behave! *smile*

  Sheri_star: I am behaving. This is as good as it gets, Bird.

  Grey_bird: Well, that says a lot, I suppose. I, on the other hand, was brought up to be a demure girl.

  Sheri_star: I think I’m gonna be sick. LOL! What bull!

  Grey_bird: Such language!

  Sheri_star: Hah! Don’t you think I don’t recognize a hot chick when I see her?

  Grey_bird: I’m sure you do, but as you can’t actually see me...that proves my point. Demure. *giggle*

  Lark could actually hear Sheridan chuckle through their open doors, which made her smile grow wider. It was as if they were really talking, she tried to tell herself.

  Sheri_star:If you were within sight, I could show you how I react when I find someone sexy.

  Grey_bird: I bet you could. Now, perhaps I should warn that physical therapist of yours. She may have to watch out, if you’re that foxy.

  Sheri_star: Actually, she’s very cute.

  Cute? Innocent looking and cute. Lark’s thoughts shimmied in her head. “Oh, my,” she whispered.

  Grey_bird: Cute, huh?

  Sheri_star: She looks at me sometimes with this expression that just doesn’t make sense.

  Lark waited for Sheridan to continue, her heart hammering slow, hard beats against her ribs, as if it couldn’t power up to race like before.

  Grey_bird: In what way?

  Sheri_star: Damned if I know. She has the most beautiful golden-brown eyes, which I’d swear could glow in the night if I didn’t know better.

  Grey_bird: So, is she really helping you? I mean, do you think you can stick to a schedule? I’m sorry I haven’t answered your e-mail, but I have read it several times.

  Sheri_star: It’s OK. And yes, I’m going to prove myself to her. She came back because I promised. If I let her down, I’ll let myself down, and then I think she’ll leave for good. I don’t want that.

  Lark stared at the last sentence, her mouth parched when she tried to wet her lips.

  Grey_bird: She sounds like she’s devoted to her job. She probably wants to give you her best, which she can’t if you don’t let her.

  Sheri_star: That’s something she’d say, so I think you’ve got her pegged.

  Lark yanked her hands off the keyboard and pressed one to her chest. Her heart had no problems racing now, and she wanted to close the chat, certain that Sheridan was onto the truth.

  Sheri_star: You there?

  Grey_bird: Sure. Just had a sip of water.

  Sheri_star: You must be sleepy by now. I should let you go.

  Grey_bird: How about you, then? Don’t want to leave you hanging.

  Lark groaned inaudibly at her choice of words.

  Sheri_star: I could take that the wrong way if I wasn’t just as demure as you.

  Grey_bird: *groan*

  Sheri_star: A problem, there, Bird?

  Grey_bird: What makes you think that? *rolling eyes*

  Sheri_star: You’ll give yourself a headache doing that. Actually, I think I can try for some more sleep now, after I get something to drink.

  Grey_bird: OK. Sleep tight, then. See you around later.

  Sheri_star: Hey, Bird?

  Grey_bird: Yeah?

  Sheri_star: Thanks for listening.

  Grey_bird: No problem. Any time.

  Sheri_star: Good night. Sleep well.

  Lark signed off and closed her laptop. Just as she put it on her nightstand, she heard a muted thud from Sheridan’s room and a low curse. “Damn it!”

  Lark rose, but realized that Sheridan hadn’t called her and halted, uncertain what to do.

  “Lark? You awake?”

  “Yes. Be right there.” Lark hurried across the hallway. “I heard a noise. What’s...oh.”

  The pitcher that had been sitting on Sheridan’s nightstand was now on the floor in a large puddle of water. “I’ll grab a towel. You’re thirsty, I assume?”

  “You assume correctly,” Sheridan muttered. “Why am I so clumsy? It’s as if I have no sense of distance.”

  “You and me both. My mother says I can walk into anything that’s within a three-foot radius, no matter the size.”

  “Glad I’m not the only klutz.”

  Lark found a towel in the hamper in Sheridan’s bathroom and wiped off the floor. Then she padded to the kitchen and filled another pitcher with water. Returning to the bedroom, she poured a glass for Sheridan and sat down on the side of the bed while she drank. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  Lark saw the computer wasn’t tucked away yet. “Think you can go back to sleep now?”

  “Yes, it shouldn’t be impossible.” Sheridan moved and suddenly had a pained expression on her face. “Ow. Damn.” She wriggled under the covers. “Can you help me? I really am a super-klutz today. I think my foot’s stuck in the pajama leg.”

  “What are you talking about, stuck?” Lark pulled back the covers all the way. “Ah. I see.” Lark untangled Sheridan’s toes from the hem of the silk pajama bottoms. “There you go.” She replaced the covers and tucked them in around Sheridan. When she began to leave, Sheridan grabbed her wrists gently.

  “Thank you,” she said and looked at Lark intently. “You take such good care of me, and you do it so I don’t feel...awkward.”

  Lark turned her hands under Sheridan’s and returned the soft squeeze. “Hey, that’s how it’s supposed to be. You’re meant to feel at ease. If I ever do or say anything to make you feel awkward or upset, you have to tell me.”

  “I will.”

  Sheridan seemed reluctant to let go, and their touches were entirely innocent, so Lark remained where she was. She felt Sheridan’s grip loosen, and as her eyelids began to close, Lark stroked Sheridan’s lower arms, up and down, over and over.

  “Feels good,” Sheridan whispered, half asleep. “Thanks—”

  “Shh. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  “Mmm.”

  When Sheridan’s breath became deep and even, Lark reluctantly let go and rose. She stood and watched Sheridan sleep for a few moments before she returned to her own bed. It took her a while before she relaxed enough to feel sleepy. Her last thoughts were of how Sheridan had reached for her, almost instinctively. It had to mean something, didn’t it?

  Chapter Fifteen

  At the end of their first week at Lake Travis, Lark had finally worn Sheridan down and made her at least consider working in the pool. The last few days and nights had been hot and humid, and the hot weather constantly warmed the pool.

  Sheridan now sat next to the enclosed sixty- by thirty-foot pool. Her father had built it when Sheridan moved back to San Antonio, hoping it would help her overcome her fear of water. She had used it only a few times, more than she had ever swum in the lake. She couldn’t explain her fear of water; she only knew it had always existed.

  “Mr. Johnson is going to join us,” Lark said from behind her.

  Sheridan felt her palms grow sweaty at the sight of Lark, dressed in a black swimsuit like elite swimmers used. Lark looked fantastic, toned in a way that was still incredibly feminine, with defined muscles under satin skin. She looked so comfortable Sheridan nearly bolted, if it was possible to bolt in a wheelchair. Sheridan figured it was. Finally, Lark’s words registered.

  “Mr. Johnson? Why?”

  “I can’t help you into the water on my own. It’s not safe. After we practice getting you out of the wheelchair and onto the floor or ground, and back up again on your own, then we can do this by ourselves. You have a way to go there yet. Also, your fear of water could be a problem before you become used to this particular exercise.” Lark opened a large plastic bag that Sheridan had just noticed. “Here’s what we’ll need. I found these stored in t
he pool house.” She pulled out several different floating devices, and Sheridan felt a bit less stressed.

  “I’m going to wear arm-floaters?” she asked sardonically. “They’re for kids!”

  “Brilliant, huh? They’ll keep you afloat no matter what, but I won’t leave you for a second. I’ll hold onto you the entire time.”

  Always something. “All right. How do we do this?”

  “Since we don’t have a ramp or lift here, at least not yet, I had to be a bit clever.” Lark looked adorable when she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. “I’ll grab one of the recliners.”

  She removed the cushions from one of the chairs that lined the fence and pulled it to where Sheridan sat. “Look, the bottom third of the recliner can be folded as a ramp, almost.” She flipped the end of the chair down so it met the ground. “Here’s what we’ll do. Mr. Johnson and I’ll help you onto the recliner, and then I’ll go into the water as he helps you slide down into my arms.” Lark blushed unexpectedly. “Eh, well. You’ll be wearing the arm-floaters, so you’ll be fine. The water is at least eighty degrees.”

  “It’s not the cold that’s bothering me.”

  “I know. But it’d add more negativity, I think, if the water was cold. Ah, here’s Mr. Johnson. Great that you could join us.”