FREEDOM!
Buck stood—sans both casts—at the fence and stared across the pasture to where his horses grazed at the far end of the property. A shallow creek ran along the back fence, and trees and shrubs lined its banks, providing shade at this time of day. He longed to slip through the slats of wood and stride out to the horses, maybe even swing up on one of them, but the doctor had told him to take it easy, especially since he was out of the casts earlier than expected. He had been instructed to do exercises to strengthen the muscles and get his flexibility back. Plus he had to wear a splint on his ankle. But until the swelling went down, it would be impossible to get that foot into a boot, so the splint didn’t matter much to Buck.
“I’ve seen much worse swelling,” the doctor had told him an hour ago. “It won’t be long before it looks normal again.” Dr. Frederick had also insisted Buck use a cane for the next week or so. Buck hadn’t intended to follow that advice, certain he wouldn’t need it and vain enough not to want to look like an old man when out in public. But he had to admit, he was less steady on his feet than he’d expected.
He glanced down at his right wrist, wrapped in an Ace bandage, and began to turn it in small circles, first one way, then the other. No pain, but it had been weakened, like his ankle.
He turned from the fence, and his glance went in the direction of the Anderson home. Since the Fourth of July celebration they’d fallen into an easy routine. She would knock on the door, ask if he needed anything, stand on the stoop and chat with him about nothing in particular, fingers tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Then she would head out to the pasture and the horses.
Buck liked watching her brush them and pat them. He liked the easy way she talked to them, although he couldn’t hear her words. He took surprising pleasure in watching her ride. He also enjoyed looking out the window and watching her throw a ball for Cocoa or playing tug-of-war with a knotted rope. Simply looking at her made him feel good. And when she was out of sight, he missed her. He wanted to be with her.
He glanced down at his right foot, remembering how he’d thought it might be fun to have Charity around while he recuperated. It was supposed to have been a lark. After all, they weren’t headed in the same direction. They wanted different things out of life.
Only that didn’t feel as true now as it had back at the start.
Keeping an eye on the uneven ground, he headed for the house and a cool glass of iced tea. After that, he would sit down with his calendar and try to get some work done. Update some records in the computer. Pay a few bills. Balance his checking and saving accounts. All of the paperwork that he’d let slide since his fall.
He was just inside the back door when the telephone rang. It was his brother.
“Hey. I heard you got your casts off early.”
“Yeah, the doctor said I’m a fast healer.”
“That’s great because Sara wants you to come over for dinner. You haven’t seen Eddy since we brought him home, and she’s dying to show him off to his uncle.”
“Are you sure that’s not too much for her?”
Ken lowered his voice. “Her mom’s doing the cooking. Come on, bro. I’m outnumbered.”
Buck laughed.
“Sure. You find it funny. You know I’m fond of Irene, but she’s been here almost two weeks. The house seems to be shrinking.”
“All right. I’ll come. What time?”
“Would now be too soon?”
Buck thought of all the bookkeeping tasks he needed to do, then answered, “Nope. Not too soon. I’ll be right over.”
“Oh. You can drive? I thought I’d come get you.”
“Not a chance. No more chauffeuring for me. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He dropped the phone into its cradle, took the keys to his truck in one hand and the cane in the other, and headed outside again.
It felt strange to be behind the wheel after so many weeks of being driven around by his brother and friends. Tom Butler had taken him to and from the clinic that morning. Hopefully it would be Buck’s last time to need that kind of help. Ever.
He shoved the clutch to the floor with his left foot, then placed his right foot on the gas pedal, moving it around a bit, testing the up-and-down motion. The splint didn’t interfere. Then he checked the brake as well. His ankle felt a little too weak—at least if a fast, hard brake was required—but he could use his left foot in an emergency.
As he pulled out onto the road, he couldn’t help himself. He leaned out the window and let out a whoop of joy.
Freedom!
WITH A SIGH, CHARITY CLOSED HER LAPTOP AND rolled her chair back from the desk. When she whirled the chair around, she was surprised to find the light fading outside. She couldn’t believe it was that late. Was a storm brewing? She rose and went to the window. No. The sky was clear. A glance at the bedside clock told her it was after nine p.m. No wonder her backside felt numb. She hadn’t moved from the chair in several hours.
Cocoa whimpered from the doorway.
Charity turned. “I’m sorry, girl. Need out?”
The dog wagged her tail and did a little dance.
“All right.” Charity laughed. “Let’s go outside.”
As usual, Cocoa didn’t wait around for her mistress. She was down the stairs in an instant and stood near the door, waiting for Charity to catch up with her.
“No walk today, girl. It’s too late. I’ll throw the ball for you instead.” She reached for the yellow tennis ball that she kept in a basket near the door.
Cocoa quivered with excitement from the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail. The moment they were both outside, Charity threw the ball as hard as she could in the direction of Buck’s front yard, and the dog took off after it. Charity settled onto the top step of the front porch.
Buck’s truck was gone from the side of his house, the spot where it had been ever since the accident. The pickup hadn’t been there the last time she’d looked either. She flinched at the thought, not liking that she’d made note of it.
Cocoa brought the ball back and Charity threw it again—in the same direction.
Wasn’t it enough that she thought about Buck during the day while she was writing? Lately he had invaded her dreams as well. Which seemed worse—more dangerous—than her old nightmares, as crazy as that sounded.
She was about to throw the ball one more time for Cocoa when the sounds of Buck’s truck drew her eyes to the road. He waved at her through the open window of his pickup as he turned into the driveway.
“Sit, Cocoa.”
The dog obeyed as Charity rose to her feet.
Buck got out of the truck and, grinning, walked toward her, a cane in one hand.
She couldn’t help but return his smile. “Look at you.”
“Yeah. Not too shabby.”
She glanced toward the pickup and back again. “Must feel good to be able to drive.”
“You have no idea.”
The twilight dimmed even more, the silence of evening broken by the chirping of crickets and a breeze rustling the leaves on the trees. Cocoa groaned as she lay down.
“Been busy writing today?” Buck asked.
“Yes.”
“Going well?”
“Yes. I think so. Better than I expected when I first got here.”
“Glad to hear it.” He glanced toward the pasture behind his house. “Did you ride today?”
“No, not today.” She felt a twinge of regret. With his casts off, he wouldn’t need her to exercise his horses any longer. He could do it himself. Look at him. He was on the mend. He would be back to his old life soon. She should get back to hers.
“I had dinner tonight at Ken and Sara’s. You should see the baby. It’s amazing how much bigger he is already.”
There was a catch in her heart, but not as bad as it might have been. “That’s wonderful. I’m so glad he’s doing well.”
He looked at her, and she was glad for the failing light, lest he see too much.
“I . . . uh . . .” She pointed at his leg. “I’d better not keep you standing here.”
“I’m all right.” But he took a step back from her.
“It’s good to see you out and about, Buck. Really it is.”
“Thanks.” He started to turn, then stopped. “You’re still welcome to ride whenever you want.”
His words had a wonderful effect upon her, and she smiled her thanks.
“Oh. Almost forgot. Sara said when I saw you to say she’s up for visitors and she hopes you’ll come to see her and the baby soon.”
Charity’s earlier calm evaporated. With effort, she forced the smile to remain in place. “I will. I’ll go over soon.”