“Son.”
The look on his father’s face instantly quieted him. “Where’s Sundance?” Walter asked again.
Alec glanced down the slope. “She’s here, Pop. She’s right below you.”
“She’s hurt, Alec. I can sense it. See if you can help her.”
There was no point in arguing; Walter wasn’t going to drop the subject. Obediently Alec stood and made his way down to the horse. Even from a distance, he could tell the mare’s foreleg was broken.
Sundance nickered softly when he knelt beside her head. “Hey, girl,” he whispered. “You’re hurting, too, aren’t you?”
She squealed and tried to sit up, but he placed a gentle hand on her neck to calm her. He cringed when he saw the jagged edge of the bone sticking through her skin, just below her knee. Even if they had access to a clinic and a surgeon, Alec knew the injury was irreparable.
Walter’s breathing seemed more stable when Alec approached him again. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
He swallowed hard and tried once again to divert the topic. “Look, I’m not worried about Sundance right now, okay? I have to make sure that you’re–”
“Son, what’s wrong with her?”
Alec dropped his head. “Her foreleg’s broken. I can see the cannon bone.”
He could hardly bear the pain in his father’s eyes. “All these years, she’s been a loyal friend to me,” Walter said quietly. “I feel like I’ve failed her.”
Alec was dangerously close to losing his composure. “Jim and Darren are dead,” he reminded him. “And you might be, too, if you don’t let me get out of here and get you some help–”
“She’s suffering, Alec. It’s not fair to make her suffer.”
Deep down, he knew his father was right. He cursed as he pushed himself to his feet and made his way back to the horse. Sundance lifted her head when he approached, giving him a rush of images of the regal mare prancing around an arena, responding to Walter’s subtle cues, and making the crowds oooooh and aaaaah with delight. She deserved a long, healthy life in a pasture full of emerald grass.
Not this.
Alec’s chin began trembling as he knelt beside her again. “It’s okay, girl,” he whispered, giving her a reassuring pat with one hand and reaching for his revolver with the other. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
He wasn’t sure which sound was louder…the crack of the gunshot echoing across the hills, or the shriek of helplessness that escaped from his throat.
Chapter 17
Alec sat alone in the waiting room of the hospital with his face buried in his hands. The past few hours were a total blur…retrieving Zack, galloping to the homestead, and pounding on the front door. Before he could even finish explaining what happened, the Millers were calling emergency services, giving directions to the search and rescue crew, and driving Alec to the hospital in Jackson.
Last he’d heard, his father was alive and the helicopter would be arriving shortly.
He was jolted back to the present when the waiting room doors burst open. Alec lifted his head to see Roger, Tommy, and Shania rushing towards him. The reality of the situation hit him all over again when Shania fell to her knees and threw her arms around his neck.
“What happened?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
Alec was anything but okay. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and tightened his arms around her, as if holding her would somehow hold him together, too. He heard Tommy and Roger take seats on either side of him, but it was another minute before he felt composed enough to respond.
“I’m not hurt,” he said as he sat back in his chair. “But my father is. They’re flying him in right now.”
Roger placed a weathered hand on his shoulder. “What happened, Alec? You said something about Trapper’s Ridge.”
He’d been in such a state when he called them that he couldn’t even remember what he’d said. “The ground was soft after all the rain. It couldn’t handle the weight of the herd.” He cringed and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could erase the image from his mind. “They all went into the ravine.”
“The cattle?”
“And Jim and Darren.”
Tommy touched his other shoulder. “Don’t give up hope. They might find them.”
“I saw them go down, Tommy. They’re dead.”
Roger stood and paced a long, slow circle around the waiting room. “What do you need us to do?”
Alec lifted his head and gave him a blank stare. He never told their employees what to do–that was his father’s job.
“Um…well, Zack’s still at the Miller Homestead. We need to pick him up.”
“I know where that is,” Tommy said. “I can hitch up the other trailer and go get him.”
“Yes. That’d be good.” He fumbled for something else. “I haven’t called Jim and Darren’s family yet. I don’t even know their number.”
“Your father has all of that in the office,” Roger replied. “I’ll take care of it for you.”
“Thank you. I don’t even know…I mean, tell them–”
Tell them what? What could he possibly say in such an impossible situation?
Roger nodded in understanding. “You call us the second you hear word, alright?”
After Tommy and Roger left, Shania rose to her feet. “Do you want me to stay? Or do you want to be alone?”
Alec didn’t know what he wanted. He dropped his head in his hands again as she sat beside him. “Darren’s wife is pregnant,” he choked. “And Jim just got engaged–”
“Shhhh,” Shania said, gently pulling him closer. “It wasn’t your fault, Alec. None of this is your fault.”
On any other day, he’d welcome the feel of her fingertips stroking his hair. Nothing could soothe him today, though. There was nothing that could dull the sting of the cruel, unnecessary deaths he’d just witnessed. Eventually Alec rested his head in her lap and closed his eyes, if for no other reason than to keep his tears in check.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when a middle-aged woman in medical scrubs stepped into the waiting room. “Mr. Westin?”
Immediately he sat up. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Connelly. Can you come with me, please?”
Alec clutched Shania’s hand as they followed the doctor down the hallway to a small office, where she motioned for them to take seats at the desk. He glanced dejectedly around the office, wondering if it was a law that every room in every hospital had to be drab and depressing.
“Your father arrived about an hour ago,” Dr. Connelly began. “The good news is that he’s in stable condition, his vital signs are strong, and there’s no indication of internal bleeding.”
Good news.
That also meant there was bad news.
“That’s good,” Alec said, not knowing what else to say.
The doctor gave a gentle nod. “However, something has shown up on the x-rays that is of very serious concern.”
She switched on the light panel on the wall to illuminate a series of shadowy images. “This is your father’s cervical spine,” she explained, pointing to the row of connecting bones. “It’s comprised of seven vertebrae that run from the base of the skull to the top of the shoulders. The nerves that originate in this area control all of the motor and sensory functions in the body.”
She indicated the vertebrae in the center of the column. “These are known as C4, C5, and C6. As you can see, all three of these bones are fractured.”
Alec swallowed hard. “So his neck is broken?”
“Yes. And sometimes the vertebrae break in such a way that it doesn’t have any impact on the spinal cord or the rest of the body. Unfortunately, that’s not the case with your father. It’s too soon to know the exact extent of the damage, but initial tests are indicating a complete loss of nervous function below the neck.”
Shania’s hand tightened around his, but he barely felt it. He stared helplessly at Dr. Connelly, trying to process what she was tell
ing him. “He’s paralyzed?”
“In basic terms, yes. Nerve tissue functions differently than other soft tissues in the body. If we injure a muscle or a tendon, for example, it has the ability to repair itself over time. Unfortunately, once the spinal cord has been damaged, the effects are almost always irreversible.”
She indicated the x-ray again. “If the injury had occurred any higher, your father would be unable to breathe without the assistance of a ventilator. I realize it’s a small consolation at this point, but right now he’s breathing perfectly well on his own. That will make a huge difference in preserving his long-term health.”
Alec felt like he was trapped in some sort of nightmare. How had any of this happened? Was it just last night that they’d been sitting around a campfire sharing a drink and a heart-to-heart? How had he gone from the single best day of his life to the absolute worst in the space of a couple of hours?
“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute. “This is all just so surreal.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” the doctor replied. “But please be assured that we are doing everything we possibly can for him.”
Alec glanced at Shania, only to find tears streaming down her cheeks. Quickly he turned his attention back to the doctor. “You said something about long-term health?”
“Well, each case of paralysis is unique, so there are no hard and fast rules. Sometimes the patient’s body adapts well to the new state and they’re able to live in relative comfort for many years. Other times, the condition weakens them and makes them susceptible to infections that an otherwise healthy person could fight off. There’s really no way of knowing at this point. The only thing I can tell you for certain is that it is going to be a very long and very slow recovery process.”
“But he’ll be able to come home?”
Dr. Connelly gave a sad smile. “Your father will require round-the-clock care for the rest of his life. Only you know if that’s something you’re in a position to provide for him. Many in your situation choose to delegate the daily care to professionals who are equipped to care for patients in his condition.”
He had no problem dissecting her carefully chosen words. “You mean they put them in a nursing home?”
She bristled at his tone, but her response was as tactful as ever. “There are many types of facilities available that provide excellent standards of care. And that’s something we can discuss when the time comes.”
Alec’s head was beginning to spin. “Can I see him?”
Dr. Connelly rose from her chair. “Let me get an update on his condition, and I’ll have an answer for you.”
The walls seemed to close in around him after she exited the office. He turned to Shania and tried to pull in a breath, but his throat was too tight. “I’m sorry you have to be here for all of this,” he managed to say.
She pulled his hand into her lap. “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
“It’s not happening to me. It’s happening to him.” He glanced back at the x-rays and felt an overpowering surge of anger. “I know one thing for certain.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll be dead before I put him in a damned nursing home.”
*
Alec was eventually allowed to see Walter, but it was hard to discern that it was him. He looked like some sort of bizarre science experiment, hooked up to an alarming array of tubes and wires and machines. He was too sedated to interact with his surroundings, but the nurse assured Alec that he could hear them.
“Go ahead and talk to him,” she said. “Let him hear your voice.”
Alec stood beside the bed, staring down at his father’s pallid face. He struggled to think of something to say, but no words came out. He knew deep down that none of this was real and that he would wake up at any moment. His father wasn’t lying here in the hospital. He was out working the ranch right now. He was laughing with Roger about something. He was training Sundance in the corral. He was sitting on the back porch–his favorite place in all the world–gazing out at the distant mountains.
He couldn’t be here. This couldn’t be happening, not to them. These types of things happened to other people, not to Walter.
The proof was right in front of Alec’s eyes, but he refused to believe it.
Shania seemed to sense his need for silence as she drove them home. At some point she reached over and laid her hand on top of his, but he barely registered the sensation. It wasn’t only his father’s life that had all but ended today. Alec’s own future had vanished right before his eyes, like water swirling down a drain.
There was no possible way he could leave the ranch now. There was no way he could move to Laramie or attend college or pursue a life separate from this place. After all, Walter had long ago promised Alec that he would never abandon him.
How could Alec not do the same for him now?
He was jolted back to the present when Shania pulled up beside the farmhouse and shifted his truck into park. His stomach sank to a new low when he turned his gaze from the window and forced himself to look at her.
Even with the grief of today’s calamity etched across her features, she was still incredibly beautiful. Of all the things he was about to lose, he knew that losing Shania–and the life they’d dreamed up together on the riverbank–was going to hurt the most.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” she offered.
Alec shook his head. “I need to be alone.”
He slid out of the truck without waiting for her response. For the next couple of hours, he meandered aimlessly through his home, staring at its contents but not really seeing any of it. Why had fate offered him the world, he wondered, and then just as quickly snatched it from his grasp? What had he done to deserve that? What had any of them done to deserve this misfortune?
Finally he opened the door to the liquor cabinet and removed the first bottle he saw. He didn’t know or care what it was; he simply tilted his head back and chugged until the bottle was empty. He did the same with the next bottle, and the next, forcing the fiery liquids down his throat until he was totally anesthetized.
The next thing he knew, it was dark outside and he was stumbling down the hill towards the barn. Zack pricked his ears and gave a friendly nicker when he approached his stall. Alec ran his hand down his nose, suddenly envious of the animal’s inability to grasp the tragedy that had befallen them.
Were humans really blessed to have a higher consciousness? Was it truly a good thing to understand the concepts of time and death?
Animals felt no sorrow, nor any sense of loss or despair. He’d seen it with Sundance earlier that day. Obviously the horse knew she was injured, or she wouldn’t have stayed so still. But even in the final seconds of her life–even as Alec pulled the trigger–there was nothing in her eyes except unfailing trust in her human masters.
Walter was right, he decided. They had failed her.
Just like Alec had failed him.
He moved on from Zack and stopped in front of Sundance’s empty stall. Her show halter hung on the hook beside the door, waiting to be used again. Alec drained the last of whatever he was drinking before he reached out to touch the leather, thoughtfully studying its cracks and creases.
Then he lifted the empty bottle and hurled it against the wall of her stall, watching it shatter into a million pieces.
He wandered down to the office and switched on the lights, pausing in the doorway to study the photos on the wall. Some were black and white, showcasing Alec’s grandfather and great-grandfather during the early years of the Flying W. There was a picture of Walter as a toddler, sitting bareback atop a mighty Percheron stallion. There was one of him and Julianne in front of the farmhouse when she was pregnant with Alec. Then there was a long row of photos and newspaper clippings from Walter’s tours–a clinic in Houston, an exhibition in Las Vegas.
Everything he’d worked for and everything he’d accomplished…what did any of it matter now?
Alec stepped into the
office and noticed the light blinking on the answering machine. The room began to spin in circles as he pressed the button and collapsed in the armchair.
“Hello, Walter,” came a cheerful voice. “This is Henry O’Reilly with the British Horse Society. I’ve shown your video to my colleagues here, and I must say that they’re just as impressed as I was. Please ring me back at your earliest convenience so we can discuss a possible tour schedule. My number is–”
The recording ended abruptly when Alec grabbed the cord and yanked it out of the wall. The anger he’d repressed at the hospital returned with a vengeance as he grabbed the answering machine and hurled it right through the window. Then he dropped to his knees and grasped the bottom of the massive oak desk, screaming with rage as he toppled it onto its side. The drawers crashed right through the old floorboards, launching massive splinters of wood into the air, but Alec didn’t care.
He was just getting started.
A chorus of frantic whinnies echoed from the aisle, but he barely noticed the sound. Everything he could physically lift went hurtling through the shattered windowpane–the telephone, the fax machine, the printer, the monitor. He spun around and kicked the armchair away, watching the legs crack as it collided with the wall. Then he reached for the photos and began ripping them down one by one, smashing them to bits on the legs of the desk.
He was heading for the filing cabinet when he heard Shania’s voice in the background, screaming for him to stop. He couldn’t stop. Instead he grabbed the back of the cabinet and yanked it with all his might, sending thousands of papers tumbling onto the floor.
The next thing he knew, someone grabbed his arm. Tommy might have been younger than he was, but Alec quickly learned that he was stronger–a lot stronger. He gave an angry shout when Tommy pinned his arms behind his back, but he was powerless to retaliate as Tommy forced him onto his knees.
“Take it easy, Alec.”
Every ounce of fight drained from Alec’s muscles. He glanced up in despair and saw Shania and Roger standing in the doorway, staring back at him with the same horrified expression. Tommy released him and he toppled forward, barely stopping his own fall. He gasped for air as he stared down at the floorboards, now littered with broken glass and wooden fragments and all that remained of his father’s once illustrious life.
Indian Summer Page 12
