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“I’m okay.” She smiled, but her eyes were dim enough to confirm he was right. Her shoulders must be aching.
Toby was grateful when she waved the kinder aside and urged them to let him get some air. He thought they’d protest, but they turned as one when the distant sound of a siren resonated off the foothills, rising beyond the stable.
“They’re coming!” the older boy—Toby couldn’t recall his name through the curtain of pain—shouted.
The siren got louder moments before a square and boxy ambulance appeared around the side of J.J.’s trailer. The kids let out squeals of excitement, but Sarah hushed them. Had she guessed every sound reverberated through his throbbing ankle?
Two men jumped from the ambulance. Each one carried emergency supplies. Shouts came from the direction of the house, and Toby recognized his boss’s anxious voice.
What a mess he’d made of this! The boy he’d once been would have offered a prayer to God to bring him fast healing, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d reached out to God. He didn’t want to make that connection, either, remembering how his Heavenly Father seemed to stop listening to his prayers when Daed had moved them yet again before Toby had even finished unpacking the two boxes he took with him from one place to the next.
“Hi, Sarah!” said a dark-complexioned EMT who wore thick glasses. “What happened here?”
She explained and introduced Toby to the man she called George. The other EMT, a short balding man, was named Derek. They worked on the volunteer fire department with her brothers.
He didn’t want to know that. Everything she said, everyone she introduced him to, every moment while depending on someone threatened to make a connection to the farm and the community beyond it. To say that would sound ungrateful. He needed to focus on getting on his feet again so he could help with their next delivery.
As they knelt beside him, the two EMTs began asking him question after question. Ja, he replied, his right ankle hurt. No, he hadn’t heard a cracking sound when he stepped wrong. Ja, he’d stepped on it after feeling the first pain. No, it didn’t radiate pain except when he’d hopped to where he sat.
“Let’s get a look at it,” George said with a practiced smile. “Sorry if this hurts.”
That was an understatement. When George shifted Toby’s right foot and began to slip off his boot, the world telescoped into a black void of anguish sparked with lightning.
“Stay with us, Toby,” crooned Derek as he pushed up Toby’s sleeve and grabbed an IV needle and tube. “Slow deep breaths. Draw the air in and hold it and let it out. Nice and slow.” He kept repeating the words in a steady rhythm that was impossible not to follow.
The darkness receded, and the sunshine and the smells of animals and dirt rushed to awaken Toby’s senses.
“Back with us?” George asked.
“I think so.”
“Good. Breathe deeply. It’ll keep you from getting light-headed.” The EMT stuck the needle into Toby’s left arm.
Though Toby didn’t wince, he heard the kids groan in horror.
Sarah hushed them but gasped, “Oh, my!” when George rolled down Toby’s sock with care.
Her reaction was a warning, but Toby was shocked to see how swollen his ankle was. Twice its usual size, it was turning as purple as an eggplant.
“What’s happening here?” called J.J. as he reached the paddock with Mr. Summerhays in tow. Ned trailed after them like a half-forgotten pup. He must have gone inside to alert their boss to what had happened.
“A horse wanted to dance,” Toby replied with grim humor, “but he didn’t want me to lead.”
“Is he hurt bad?” J.J. looked past him to the EMTs.
“We’ll know when we get X-rays at the hospital,” George said.
“Hospital?” Toby shook his head. “Bind it, and it’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t realize you were a doctor, Mr. Christner.”
The kids giggled on cue, and Sarah smiled at the EMT’s jest. Yet, in her gaze, he could see her anxiety. He wanted to tell her not to worry about him, though he guessed he’d be wasting his breath. As much as she focused on the kinder, she might be the type to fret about every detail of every day.
The last kind of person he needed in his life.
If that was so, why did he keep thinking about how sweet it’d been to lean on her? She’d been strong and soft at the same time, a combination that teased him to learn more about her.
Toby shut his mouth before he could say something. Something that would make him embarrass himself more. He’d thought nothing could be worse than the pain in his ankle, but he’d been wrong. The only way to keep from saying the wrong thing again was to do what he always tried to do: say nothing.
Chapter Three (#ubc44ee9f-cdcd-5677-b51a-ea9bf2c01656)
Hushing the kinder, Sarah moved aside to let the EMTs stabilize Toby’s ankle. How useless she felt! If she’d had the training she yearned for, she could have helped him instead of having to wait for the rescue squad to arrive.
“Sarah?”
She looked at Mr. Summerhays, who crooked a finger to her. Telling the youngsters not to move or interrupt the EMTs, she went to where her boss stood by the paddock fence.
Without preamble, he said, “I want you to go to the hospital with him.”
“Me? But why?” The words were out before she could halt them.
“Someone needs to go.” He glanced at J.J.
Sarah understood what her boss didn’t say. He wanted to get his business with the Texan taken care of as soon as possible. With the racing season underway at Saratoga, Mr. Summerhays made it a practice never to miss a single race of his horses or horses that might compete with his.
“Ned could go,” she said.
“Ned?” When she looked past Mr. Summerhays toward the overbearing cowboy, he frowned. “We’re going to need an extra hand to get the horses settled.”
“The kinder... I mean, the children—”
He interrupted her. “Leave them with Mrs. Beebe. She can watch them for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Okay.” What else could she say? Mr. Summerhays was her boss, and he was the kinder’s daed.
He held out a cell phone. “Use this to call for a ride when you’re done at the hospital.”
“I have a phone.” She pulled out Alexander’s.
“Oh.” Mr. Summerhays looked puzzled for a moment, not recognizing his son’s cell phone. “Well, good. I trust you to make sure he gets the best possible care. I’ll call the hospital to let them know that I’m responsible for the bill.”
“Ja, sir.” Though husband and wife were too distracted with their pursuits to give their kinder the time and attention they craved, they were generous. “I’ll call you—” She halted herself when he raised a single finger. “I meant, of course, I’ll call the house when we’re done at the hospital.”
“I can go and get him,” J.J. said as he came closer.
Mr. Summerhays waved aside his words. “Nonsense. There’s no need for you to put yourself out. Sarah can handle it. She’s had a lot of practice dealing with small crises like this.”
Wondering if Toby would describe his injured ankle as a small crisis, Sarah nodded as the two men turned to go to the house. When Mr. Summerhays paused long enough to remind her the kinder should be left with Mrs. Beebe, Sarah nodded again. She was sure the cook was going to be annoyed. Mrs. Beebe had to prepare food for the household while the kitchen was being taken apart. She would be relieved when it was redone with the finishes Mrs. Summerhays had chosen before she left for Europe, but the end of the project was still weeks away.
Sarah gathered the kinder and led them toward the house, though she would have preferred to stay and watch George and Derek work. Taking the youngsters up the ramp into the kitchen, she wasn’t surprised when Mrs. Beebe, who was as thin as one of the columns, frowned.
“Now?” The gray-haired cook sighed as the kinder spread out in the huge kitchen, checking the many boxes stacked in every available space, blocking tall windows and cupboards waiting to be ripped out. “If they tip a cabinet on themselves, we’ll need another ambulance.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Summerhays—”
“Go and do what he asked.” Mrs. Beebe waved her apron at Sarah. “I’ll find something to keep them out of trouble.”
Hoping the cook would do better than she had, Sarah rushed outside. She bumped into J.J., who was with Mr. Summerhays.
“Steady there,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders to keep her from falling. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, too, did you?”
Assuring him that she was fine, she hurried toward the paddock. She reached it as the two EMTs were raising the gurney with Toby strapped to it. Seeing his straw hat in the dust, she picked it up and carried it toward the ambulance.
Toby’s face was in full view without his hat. She was startled to see, in spite of his face’s strong lines and angles, a hint of boyishness that had been hidden before. Was pain forcing him to lower his guard a tiny bit?
“I appreciate your retrieving my hat,” Toby said, holding out his hand for it. “Danki.”
She didn’t give it to him. “Let’s wait until we’re in the ambulance.”
“We?” He started to sit up.
When Derek cautioned him to remain still, Toby leaned back against the pillow. He glared at her. She hoped he’d understand when she explained her boss—and his—had sent her with him. Maybe then he’d see she wasn’t any happier about this situation than he was.
Her prayer from earlier echoed in her mind. God, grant me patience. Please let this be the last time I have to save these little ones from their antics. At least for today...
She needed to be more careful what she prayed for.
* * *
Toby tested his ankle, shifting it as he sat in a wheelchair in the emergency waiting room. He couldn’t move the thick air-cast boot encasing his leg enough to do more than cause him pain. Had he groaned aloud? A woman stopped and asked if he needed a nurse. Thanking her, he shook his head.
He was glad when she kept going. Each person who passed by, and there were a lot, glanced his way and added to his self-consciousness.
Two hours ago, after a half-hour drive over pothole-ridden roads, he’d arrived at Glens Falls Hospital. Since then, he’d been subjected to X-rays, examinations and questions. He’d started to wonder if every member of the hospital staff had stopped in to see the useless man who couldn’t control a horse he’d trained for the past year.
Every member of the hospital staff except a doktor.
Finally, a short man had walked in wearing a white lab coat. He’d introduced himself as Doktor Garza before saying, “You did a real number on your ankle, Mr. Christner.”
The words had stung like a rebuke. He’d let his attention wander, and he was paying the price.
“How long before I can work?” Toby had asked.
“You shouldn’t put full weight on it for eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks?”
Doktor Garza had sighed. “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but to be honest, I haven’t seen anyone sprain an ankle quite that bad in a long time. You’re going to need to work with a physical therapist to strengthen the muscles so you don’t injure them again. If you don’t—”
A laugh from the cubicle where Sarah had gone with a nurse intruded into his thoughts about what Doktor Garza had said before leaving to check his next patient.
The desk was right behind where Toby now waited. He hadn’t listened to their conversation, but he sat straighter when Sarah spoke.
“Oh, it’s no worry,” she said with another easy laugh. “I can make sure everything is taken care of. I’m used to dealing with recalcitrant kids, big and small.”
The nurse chuckled, but Toby didn’t.
Was Sarah referring to him? He wasn’t going to be her problem. Once he returned to Summerhays Stables, he’d be on his way. The tenuous connection between him and the pretty redhead would be broken.
After he left there, what would he do?
Eight weeks!
Eight weeks of being unable to assist J.J. If his boss sent him back to Texas, he’d be as useless there. He couldn’t ride, not with the inflated boot on his right foot. He couldn’t take care of the animals, even the ones in the barns, because shoveling out a stall would be impossible on one leg.
Toby looked up when Sarah came around the side of the cubicle, carrying a white plastic bag. She gave him a taut smile.
“It’ll be at least forty-five minutes before someone can get here,” she said, taking a seat next to his wheelchair.
“Have you seen my boot? My regular boot.”
She pointed to the white bag on the chair beside her. “It’s in here with your instructions and prescriptions you’ll need to get filled. Do you want to see?”
“No hurry. It sounds as if I won’t be wearing my boot for a few days.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked in the gentle tone he’d heard her use with the Summerhays kids.
He couldn’t keep from thinking about how she’d told the nurse she was accustomed to taking care of stubborn kinder. Had she cast him in that role? “Not really.”
“Thirsty?”
He sighed. She was determined to take care of him as if he were a Summerhays youngster. How could he fault her for lumping him in with the rambunctious kinder? He’d been rude to her from the first word he’d spoken, and she’d made every effort to be nice. He doubted he could have acted the same if their circumstances were reversed. It was long past time for him to show her a bit of gratitude. She’d ridden in the bumpy ambulance with him and waited two long hours in an uncomfortable chair while he was tended to.
“I’m a bit thirsty,” he replied.
“Me, too. There’s a snack shop. We’ve got plenty of time to get something before the car arrives.”
When she stood, he almost apologized for his curt replies. She didn’t give him a chance as she handed him the plastic bag and grasped the handles of the wheelchair.
Toby grimaced as he caught the plastic bag before it could slide off his lap. He’d thought sitting by the entrance door was the most humiliating thing he could experience, but being pushed along the hallway as if in the middle of a bizarre parade was worse. The scents of disinfectants and floor polish followed them.
Behind him, Sarah kept up a steady monologue. He didn’t listen as they turned a corner. The slight jar sent pain surging through him.
When she steered the chair through a door as easily as he would have sent a well-trained horse into its stall, he saw a half-dozen colored tables. A pile of cafeteria trays was stacked to his right, and three people were pushing theirs along rails as they selected food and drinks. A woman with a hairnet and apron assisted them.
“What do you want?” Sarah asked.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
