Sydell Voeller Special Edition Page 10

  "Yes." He turned right and started down the narrow dusty lane that led to camp. Mottled sunlight undulated across the hood of the van.

  "No way, Zack." Her voice trembled. "You know I want to help my sister more than anything. But forget the horseback riding. It won't work."

  "Why not? Your accident happened over fifteen years ago. It's silly to let it stymie you for the rest of your life." He pinned her with a meaningful gaze, then brought the van to a halt in front of the main lodge.

  "Stymie me? What makes you think I was ever that crazy about horses in the first place?"

  "Listen," he said, his voice softening as he tipped her chin with his hand so she had no choice but to look back into his eyes. "Listen to me. Please. I'm going to tell you something I've only shared with a few people. . .like my parents and one of my older colleagues."

  She steadied herself against the whirlwind of emotions sweeping over her. Why, oh why did he have such a hold on her? Why couldn't she turn her back on him and simply walk away?

  "A few years back when I was doing my fellowship," he continued, "one of my patients was a newborn little boy with a severe lung disorder. Against my better judgment, I allowed little Nathaniel to steal my heart." Lowering his gaze, he released her hand.

  "Yes, Zack." She held her breath. She didn't want to hear this, yet she couldn't help urging him to go on.

  "As the days passed, he became sicker and sicker. I tried every new medication and treatment available. Even surgery didn't help. In the end. . .he died. That night, after having to tell his parents, I swore I never wanted to set foot in a neonatal nursery again. I'd lost all faith in my ability as a physician. I. . .I guess I was ready to cash in my career altogether."

  She forced down the lump knotting her throat. For a fleeting second, she longed for the old fun-loving Zachary. The Zachary who loved to don bear costumes, sneak through her bedroom window, then sling her over his shoulder and parade her around the campfire. But now she was seeing another side of him—the part of Zachary Dellinger she'd only half suspected ever existed. Once again, her reaction to that revelation frightened her.

  "Oh, Zack. . .I know. . .I've come close to feeling exactly the same way every time I've seen a child die. But. . .but Nathaniel certainly wasn't the first child you'd lost, was he?"

  "No. Of course not." He released a ragged breath, running his hand over his chin. "But for some reason, he affected me even more than the others. The only way I managed to conquer my fear was to confront it head on and do exactly what I dreaded the most. March right back inside that nursery, face the other little ones assigned to my care, and force myself to go on. It was the toughest thing I've ever had to do in my life, Logan. . ."

  Her heart went out to him. "Yes. . .of course."

  "Do you get my point, then?"

  She twisted the strap of her shoulder bag. "So what you want me to do is the same. Take that proverbial falling off a horse story to heart and force myself to climb back on. Literally climb back on."

  "Uh-huh. Will you try it, Logan? For both yourself and Kimberly?" He hesitated. "For me?"

  Logan pressed her hands to the sides of her head, trying to press away the throbbing ache. "All right," she answered, her voice breaking. "All right, Zack. I will."

  Chapter Eight

  That night, sleep came with difficulty. Restless thoughts of Zachary tumbled inside Logan's head, mingled with her increasing concern for Kimberly. Zack had challenged Logan to own up to her own fears. She must take that crucial step—whatever the cost.

  Actually, Logan reminded herself, Zack's advice hadn't been a new revelation. How many times in the past had she forced herself to face a problem by refusing to give up? Like the time she'd failed one portion of the state board examinations that would license her to practice as a registered nurse. Nearly crushed with disappointment, she'd forced herself to study harder than she'd ever studied before, then take the exam over. Or that day on her eighth birthday when she'd fallen off her new bike, suffered a scraped knee, and climbed doggedly back on. Why hadn't she responded to her horseback riding accident the same way?

  But now there was a deeper issue at stake as well. When Zack had shared with her his story about the dying baby, he'd stripped himself of all pretenses. He'd allowed her a brief glimpse of the man deep inside—not only a very caring, dedicated man who had devoted his life to helping children, but a very vulnerable man as well.

  Logan realized their relationship had moved one gigantic step forward. But the big question remained, exactly where was it headed?

  Dawn emerged much too quickly. As Logan was standing on the front porch of the infirmary, watching the rising sun span the sky with washes of pink and gold, she saw Zack emerge through the front door of the dormitory and greet two of the med students who'd arrived early. The first, a tall lanky man who wore dark-framed glasses, was shaking Zack's hand. The second, a woman with a blond French braid, had remained behind briefly to rummage through the back seat of her car.

  A few minutes later, after showing them inside, Zack reappeared carrying a white plastic bag. He flashed her a smile as he sauntered across the parking lot. The sight of his plaid shirt, snug fitting blue jeans, and leather riding boots told her he wasn't about to waste a minute holding her to his promise.

  "Good morning, Zack," she called to him. "My, you're decked out today."

  "Howdy partner," he drawled exaggeratedly. He tipped his beige Stetson hat and went on, "But the correct term, my dear, is duded out, not decked out. . ."

  She pushed aside his jocular remarks with a wave of her hand, though she couldn't stop her own smile.

  He walked onto the porch, his eyes shining secretively. "Speaking of being duded out. . ." He shrugged, then handed her the bag. "Here. This is for you."

  She reached inside and gasped as she pulled out a white suede western style hat. A glittering gold braid encircled the brim.

  "Oh, Zack! It's beautiful. Thank you."

  He grinned like an embarrassed school boy. "Figured you'd need it. Gonna be a scorcher today."

  "But. . .but when did you find time to buy this?"

  "Last night. I ran back into town to the variety store just before closing time. Lucky thing they changed their hours and decided to stay open late on Saturdays."

  A warm glow of pleasure seeped through her as she ran her hand over the hat's velvety surface. Was this Zack's way of telling her how much he was pleased about her decision? "And you fed me a story about having to pick up the supplies Maggie forgot," she said with a smile. "I thought that sounded a little suspicious. Maggie rarely forgets anything."

  He waited expectantly. "Well. Aren't you going to try it on?"

  "Oh! Of course!" She did as he'd said. "Why, it fits perfectly."

  He gave a whistle as his eyes roved over her with obvious approval. Then he rocked back on his heels and hitched his thumbs inside his belt loops. "You look perfect, Logan. No—better than perfect."

  Her face flushed. "Thanks." She paused, her thoughts turning back to the day before. "Have you heard any news about Richard?"

  "Yep. He's going to be discharged today. But the best news of all is that Dr. Whittaker, his endocrinologist, has talked Richard into joining a support group for kids with diabetes. Several of the other diabetic children here at camp already belong, but up till now Richard wasn't interested."

  Relief washed over her. "Yes, that is good news. Very good news. Now if you could only tell me some good news about Kim, too."

  "I was just on my way to her cabin. Thought I might stop by before breakfast and see how she's doing."

  "Think you'll have any luck talking her into riding Midnight today?"

  "No telling. But I'll give it my best shot." His eyes seemed to tease and caress her all at the same time. "I may need to bait her by saying her big sister's going to hit the trail this morning too. What do you say, Logan? First thing after breakfast?"

  "Well." She hesitated. "I'm certainly not ready for any trail riding
yet, but I might agree to a time or two around the corral. That is if you can wait till after I help Maggie dispense the rest of the morning medications and change into a pair of jeans." She adjusted her hat to better see his face. "I see the med students are starting to arrive."

  "Yep. Two here already and another half dozen to come. As I said earlier, we're going to have more than enough back-up help." His smile widened as he added, "You and I could even take off for the rest of the week and no one would miss us."

  "Why, Zack, you know that's not true!" she exclaimed with mock indignation.

  "Maybe so, but it's fun to think about." He winked. "Meet you down at the stables at nine."

  * * *

  "Lesson number one," Zack announced, picking up the brush he'd left on an overturned aluminum pail. They were standing inside the stall occupied by Duchess, a russet-colored Tennessee walker. "First it's important you and Duchess establish trust. The best way is to start on the ground."

  "Good idea." Logan shifted her weight nervously as Duchess gave a loud snort. "About starting on the ground, I mean." She glanced through the wide open door and spotted Kim and Betty Jo standing outside the corral. "Gosh, my eager audience has already arrived," she told Zack, her stomach tightening.

  "Don't worry. You'll do fine." He drew the brush down the mare's side. "As soon as Kim sees you riding Duchess, she's going to forget all about Midnight kicking her."

  Logan wasn't so sure. That morning at breakfast, Logan had stopped Kim outside the dining hall. Though the gash across Kim's forehead was clean and healing nicely, she still appeared sulky and bad-tempered.

  The mare nickered. The sound pulled Logan's thoughts back to the task at hand. As Zack continued grooming Duchess, glimmers of sunlight played off her smooth tawny coat.

  A group of teens from a local 4-H club, who'd volunteered to help clean the stables and care for the horses all summer, walked by carrying large buckets of feed.

  "Zack?" Logan turned to him.

  "Yes?"

  "I've never told Kim about my accident that happened on my cousin's ranch. Think I should?"

  "That's up to you," he replied, his eyebrows knit tightly together. "But it might prove helpful."

  "How?"

  "The way I see it, Kim will never appreciate how difficult this is for you without knowing about it."

  Logan swallowed against the lump in her throat and nodded. In the beginning—before Logan had agreed to go horseback riding with Zack—her decision not to tell Kim had been appropriate. But Zack was right. Now she must reverse that decision. As soon as she and Zack were done riding this morning, she would go straight to Kim's cabin and attempt another heart-to-heart talk with her, Logan promised herself.

  "Now your turn," Zack said, handing her the brush. As Logan started brushing, the horse turned to gaze at her with soft liquid eyes. A white patch extended from her forehead halfway down her face. Logan had to admit, though only to herself, Duchess was a rather intriguing creature.

  "Is she a good riding horse?" Logan asked skeptically.

  "The best. Next to Midnight, of course."

  He nodded towards the horse's head. "Put your hand over Duchess’s muzzle. That way she can tell your scent."

  "Her muzzle?"

  "Yeah. The snout."

  "She won't bite, will she?"

  "No, I promise." One corner of his mouth quirked slightly. "Go ahead. What are you waiting for? There! See?"

  To Logan's surprise, Duchess’s muzzle was warm and dry and not the least threatening. "She likes you," he murmured.

  "You sure?"

  "Absolutely."

  "How do you know?" The horse snorted again and Logan flinched, withdrawing her hand and swiping it on the side of her jeans.

  He chuckled. "I just do."

  "Do I have to pick out her hoofs too?" Logan asked, remembering Kim's description of the grooming routine.

  "No, not this time. I got here a little earlier than you and took care of it then. But if we're going to make any kind of a horsewoman out of you, you'll eventually need to learn that too."

  She darted him a wry smile as he cinched the saddle in place, then put on the bridle. She'd only agreed to go horseback riding long enough to help pull Kimberly out of her despondency, she was tempted to remind him. What made him think she intended to make this a life-long pursuit?

  He helped her mount Duchess. "You're all set. But first a reminder. Make sure your heels are in the stirrups, but not too far. Also keep your heels down for balance."

  "I already know that," she interrupted him. Learning to ride a horse was a lot like learning to ride a bike, wasn't it? she asked herself. Once you had it down pat, no matter how long since the last time, it would all fall into place again. Oh, dear, there was that word again—fall. She forced her attention back to what Zack was saying.

  "Another thing. Be sure to sit up straight, staying at the back of the saddle, not up front. Remember, too, horses don't like a tight rein."

  "Okay, I got it." Step-by-step she took stock of her position. "I think I'm ready now." She breathed in deeply and pressed her heels against the mare's sides. Soon they'd broken into a gentle gait.

  At first Logan sat stiffly, every muscle in her body tensed. In a while, though, she felt herself begin to relax. As the cool breeze contrasted the warmth of the sun on her face, she felt surprisingly joyful and care-free. They completed the first loop and started around the second.

  "Looking good!" Zack called as they passed by.

  She offered him a fleeting smile, then caught her sister's eye and waved. Kim, small and frail-appearing in her wheelchair, had struck an indifferent pose as she rested her chin in her palm, her elbow propped on top of her other arm.

  With each turn around the corral, Logan's confidence grew. Suddenly a movement on the ground caught her eye. Something was coiling up—right at the spot where her horse was headed. She blinked hard, freezing. A snake! Duchess was about to tromp right onto that snake!

  Choking back a scream, she jerked on the reins. "Whoa!" she yelled as she squeezed her legs against the mare's sides. "Whoa, Duchess!"

  Eyes bulging, the horse stopped dead in its tracks and turned quickly. Logan's heart pounded as she peered down at the snake—but all she saw was an old short piece of rope, gray and weathered.

  "What's the matter?" Zack came sprinting in her direction.

  "I thought I saw a snake! It could've even been a rattler!" She pointed at the rope. "I swear I saw it, Zack! But. . .but I guess I was wrong. . ." Her voice trailed as a wave of embarrassment washed over her.

  The look of alarm on Zack's face faded. He stooped to pick up the rope and chuckled. "Some snake. Oh, well. That was a good start. Maybe we should call it a day."

  She dismounted all too readily, then cast a wary look at her little sister, whom Betty Jo was already wheeling away. Gripping Duchess’s reins, Zack began leading her back to the stables. Shoulders slumped, Logan walked next to him. "I feel so ridiculous," she confessed, meeting his gaze.

  "Don't. It could've happened to anyone." The laughter she still heard in his voice was neither unkind nor belittling. "I think Maggie's been feeding you too many of those snakes-under-the-porch stories."

  "Yeah. That had to be it. The snake stories. . ." Logan forced lightness into her voice.

  "Lucky thing you didn't throw Duchess into a complete tailspin," he pointed out. "Judging from what I saw back where I was standing, she could've easily thrown you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "While you jerked back on the reins, you also pressed your legs against Duchess’s sides. The bottom line is, you were giving her two opposing commands. Pulling back on the reins means stop. Squeezing the horse’s sides means go."

  Logan groaned. "Man alive. First time back on a horse in 15 years and already I've blown it. I bet even Kim knows better."

  He reached out and gave her a playful poke in the ribs. "Next time just keep your wits about you. And as far as Kim goes, just remember
, the important this is she saw you trying. And maybe that'll be what it takes to get her to try again too."

  As soon as Logan had walked Duchess back to her stall, she headed straight for Kim's cabin and told Kim her story. "So, you see, honey," she said. "It wasn't easy for me today either. I didn't want to climb up in Duchess’s saddle any more than you want to ride Midnight again. It was scary, but I made myself do it. And I'd like to see you do that too."

  But Kim still refused. She wouldn't even come near Midnight.

  Meanwhile, Logan kept riding. By Tuesday evening, she and Zack had even ventured out on couple of short trails. With each new lesson, Logan's trust in Duchess inched upward.

  Still, this was only one horse, she kept telling herself. Just because she and Duchess had bonded—as Zack put it—didn't mean she could let go of her responsibilities to protect Kim. People were thrown from horses every day, though Logan was relieved that hadn't happened to any of the children at camp.

  Logan found herself caught in a snare of indecision. It seemed as if two voices were battling inside of her. The one voice insisted that Kim would be better off not risking the three-night outing, especially since it would involve the more challenging trail rides.

  The other voice—the one that had promised Zack she'd try to solicit Kim's cooperation—reminded her that time was slipping away. If Kim didn't agree to participate wholly, she would miss a worthwhile opportunity and also forfeit her chance to enroll in the therapeutic horseback riding program later on.

  By Wednesday, Logan's thighs were so sore, she swore there was no way she could endure another trail ride, especially ten miles up into the hills where Zack planned to watch the meteor shower. Still, the prospect of camping out with Zackary sent chills of delicious anticipation down her spine. Tonight marked one of Mother Nature's big time celestial events and the news announcer on the radio had promised nothing short of a spectacular show.

  "Relax, Logan," he told her as they started out later that evening around seven. He sat tall in the saddle, riding a black and white Arabian slightly ahead of her. "You look tight as a drum hunched over like that," he added, looking back again.