“I’ve actually met a couple of kids. One of them is the daughter of the guy who runs the therapy program. She’s in one of my elective classes. Her name is Jess.”
So Rooster had a daughter. “What’s she like?”
“She’s nice. She said she knows what it feels like to be a little different than everyone else.”
“What’s she mean by that?”
Ryan shrugged. “The kids here aren’t as worried about how much money a guy’s family has. They’re more real.”
His phone dinged indicating he had a text. He scanned the message. “It was from Mom. She said she might join us next week. Can you believe it? Does she really think I’ll buy that? Next she’ll tell me to write a letter to Santa at Christmas.” Ryan chucked. “I’d probably get better results from the letter.”
“At least she’s trying.” More like Andrea was saying the right thing. Their mother talked a good game and tossed out big promises. Follow-through proved to be an entirely different matter. “She might surprise us.” But only if Grant moved back into the house and agreed to come with her. Otherwise Andrea wouldn’t leave California, but Stacy bit her tongue to keep from mentioning that.
“When are you going to quit giving her more chances? She doesn’t deserve it.”
For Ryan’s sake she kept banging her head against the wall in attempt to get Andrea to change. A teenager needed the guidance and love of a parent. He’d changed so much over the past years. Some of it was just normal teenage-attitude stuff, but she knew some of the differences were because of their mother. Every time she disappointed Ryan, every time she put her needs above his, Stacy saw a little part of her brother die inside.
“She’s going through a tough time.” She regretted her words the minute she uttered them. How could she have been so thoughtless to Ryan when he’d faced far worse than Andrea? “Not like what you’re going through, but she’s not as strong as you are.”
“She’s a selfish bitch who doesn’t care about anyone but the husband of the month.”
Out of the mouths of angry teenagers often came the harsh truth.
Part of her considered talking to him about how families should forgive and love each other no matter what, but she lacked the energy for a battle. Especially when he was right. She’d tried so hard to make up for Andrea’s shortcoming so Ryan wouldn’t grow up feeling unloved, but there was only so much she could do.
No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t his mother.
Ryan glanced out the window. “Are you sure you know where we’re going? I think we went past this barn a little while ago.”
Stacy flashed him a bright smile. “I’ve got everything under control.”
No way would she admit she didn’t have a clue where they were. She’d never hear the end of it because Ryan had suggested they print a copy of the directions before they left the cabin. Since they were running late, she’d brushed him off saying they’d be fine with her GPS app on her phone. Unfortunately she’d forgotten how spotty Wi-Fi could be in the Rocky Mountains, forcing her to rely on her memory.
“That’s your too-big smile. It means you’re lying because you’re afraid if you tell me the truth, I’ll be upset.”
“I don’t do that.”
“You do it all the time. I’m not a kid. I don’t need you protecting me.”
They’d both grown up too fast. She’d hoped to save him from some of that, but life had a way of refusing to go along with a person’s plan.
“Okay, you win. I admit it. We’re lost.” She spotted a small ranch house in the distance to the left. “I’ll head for that house and ask for directions.” Then she pointedly stared at her younger brother.
He stared back. His right eyebrow rose and he smiled.
“Are you going to say it?”
His grin widened. “Say what?”
“I’m not going to have an ‘I told you’ so hanging over my head. Let’s just get it over with.”
“But it’s more fun to torture you this way.” His smile faded and he picked at a frayed spot in his jeans. “I know you don’t think this horse-therapy stuff is a good idea, but I researched it a lot. I think it could really help me.”
Right after the car accident, Ryan’s attitude amazed her. He’d been so full of hope. He swore he’d regain full use of his legs no matter what he had to endure. He’d remained positive during his first surgery and the countless hours of physical therapy. Then the doctors recommended another surgery. When he failed to see much improvement after the second operation, something inside Ryan withered.
He quit going out with friends. Though he hadn’t said so, she suspected being with them only reinforced what he couldn’t do. He argued with her about attending physical therapy.
“I’m tired of doctor and therapy appointments controlling my life. I want to be normal again. I want to hang out with friends, go out on a date or spend the whole day in school without getting pulled for an appointment. This sports riding program is my best bet to have that. I know you’re scared because of what happened to dad, but I’ll be okay. Everything I read about the program says falls are rare.”
But they do occur. She could handle anything but something happening to Ryan again. He was all she had. Her only family. The only one who cared about what happened to her.
No, that wasn’t true. Andrea cared about her, but only because if something happened to Stacy, who would pick up the pieces of her life when it inevitably fell apart?
“I’m praying you’re right.”
They came around a curve and a loud pop echoed around them. The car pulled hard to the left. Stacy clutched the steering wheel, pulled her foot off the gas and struggled to maintain control. Her sweaty palms slipped on the steering wheel.
“Slow down!” Ryan screamed.
“We’re fine.” She flashed him a quick smile, hoping to ease his fears and stave off a full-blown panic attack. His fingers dug into the armrest. His breathing grew rapid and shallow. “Breathe slow and deep.”
She’d veered into the other lane. She turned hard right. Too hard. The car spun. Ryan’s screams reverberated through the car as they headed for the ditch.
Images blurred around Stacy. Her hands grew numb, and then seconds later the car stopped.
“God, no! Not again!” Ryan screamed.
Thank you, Lord. He’s yelling. That means he can’t be hurt too badly.
Her heart thundering in her chest, her body shaking, Stacy grabbed her brother’s arm and squeezed. “Look at me, Ryan. Are you hurt anywhere?” His gaze locked on hers, and he shook his head. “Breathe with me.”
She inhaled deeply and held her breath for a second before slowly exhaling. She did that for a minute or two until his breathing matched hers and the panic receded from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I think we blew a tire.” She squeezed his hand again before letting go. “You handled that so well.”
“No, I didn’t. I screamed like a little girl.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Remember how bad the attack was the first time you got in a car after the accident? You’ve come so far since then, but that doesn’t mean that sometimes you won’t get thrown for a loop.”
A chorus of moos and clomping hooves on the