“CC!” Small arms stretched out toward him while Cole bent down to unfasten her seat belt. “I can walk, CC! Watch me!”
The girl reached beside her seat and pulled out two tiny crutches with forearm supports. When she swung herself around, Tess could see that braces encased her legs up to her knees.
“Slow down, Ever.” A woman came around to the van door. “All this child’s been able to prattle on about is showing you she can walk.”
“Hello, Lorraine.” Cole moved aside, allowing the woman to seat the girl on the floor of the minivan so her legs dangled over the edge.
“Look, CC!” With calculated precision, the child focused on Cole, who knelt down on the ground a few feet in front of her. She took one precarious step, followed by a much steadier one.
Tess covered her mouth to keep from gasping at the child’s determination and pride with each small movement. The entire staff watched the girl walk toward Cole. When she finally reached him, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and swinging her around.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetie.” Cole hugged the girl, his eyes glassy, making Tess think a tear would spill over at any moment. “So proud.”
“I wanted to call and tell you, but I was told to wait and maybe you’d be here this week so I could show you.”
“Lorraine, you know you can call me anytime,” Cole said. Tess figured the woman must be Ever’s mother. “You still have my number, right?”
The woman nodded. “We didn’t want to bother you.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed, and Tess guessed he held his tongue due to the child’s presence. The conversation didn’t seem new, but rather a familiar one.
“I want you to meet a friend of mine,” Cole said. “Ever, this is Tess. Tess, meet Ever, my little cowgirl in the making.”
“Hi, Tess.” Ever’s twilight-blue eyes sparkled when she spoke. “CC has a girlfriend.”
Tess felt the heat rise to her cheeks at Ever’s reference. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m just a friend of Cole’s, though.”
“And you’re a girl.” Ever pulled at Cole’s hat until it came off his head, and placed it on top of hers, covering most of her face. “She’s pretty.”
“I can’t argue with you there.” Cole winked at Tess.
“Put me down, CC, I want to walk.”
“Well, look at you, Super Girl.” A woman with the name Caitlin embroidered on her shirt pocket approached. “Are you ready for your therapy?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ever replied. “Will you watch me?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cole said.
Tess had never seen Cole so intently fixated on someone as he was this moment with Ever. Bracing his arms on the round pen’s fence rail, Cole watched the slip of a girl astride a light bay-colored mare. Ever sat absolutely straight, holding on to the two side handles on the royal blue clothlike saddle.
“This is what it’s about, right here,” Cole said. “This was my father’s dream.”
Tess saw Cole swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, trying hard to hide his emotions. In the lifetime she’d known Cole, she couldn’t remember him shedding a single tear. She wouldn’t have guessed this side of him existed. The same went for his father.
“What’s wrong with her?” Tess hoped her question wasn’t callous.
“Ever has cerebral palsy. Up until I last saw her a little over a week ago, she was still in a wheelchair. Today is the first I’ve seen her walk more than a few feet without anyone supporting her.”
“I didn’t realize hippotherapy was that powerful.” Tess had heard of the therapy but hadn’t paid too much attention to it. “How can a horse teach her to walk?”
“It allows her to walk.” Cole turned to face Tess with his arms out, palms facedown. “The horse’s gait very closely mimics a human’s walk.”
He moved his hands up and down. “If you walk with your hands on your hips, you will feel a steady rhythm. A horse’s movements are almost identical to ours. In Ever’s case, she needed to strengthen her core muscles and improve her balance. Hippotherapy builds up her core and allows her to have the ability to walk with the aid of crutches. The day may come when she won’t need them anymore.”
“Interesting saddle.” Tess noted its thinness and lack of leather.
“It allows the rider to feel the muscular movements of the horse better so they can engage the right muscles. The two separate handles are easier to grip and don’t interfere with her sense of balance.”
“Why does she call you CC?” Tess asked.
“It’s short for Cowboy Cole. She’s called me that from the moment my dad brought us here last year.”
Tess watched the girl ride closer to the fence rail. Her pink top matched the tint of her cheeks. An assistant led the horse, and her therapist and another staff member flanked both sides. Cole waved his hat in the air when she passed, cheering her on. Looking around, Tess tried to find the girl’s mother. A parent testimonial would be a great addition to the website.
“I don’t see her mom. Did she leave?”
“Ever’s in foster care,” Cole said. “Has been since the day she was born.”
“She’s an orphan?” Tess’s voice was louder than she had intended.
“Some people can’t cope with raising a special-needs child,” Cole said. “Ever was abandoned as part of the Texas Safe Haven Law. Since it’s anonymous, her parents’ identity will remain a mystery.”
“What?” Tess shook her head, unable to fathom the thought of deserting a child. How could anyone hand their child over to a stranger and not care what happened to it? “They gave her away because she has cerebral palsy?”
“Most likely, and it’s not as uncommon as you might think.”
If she was lucky enough to be blessed with a child, and that child was born with a disability, Tess was certain she wouldn’t be able to give it away. How could you live with yourself afterward?
“People are sick.” Tess spit out the words.
“Don’t be too judgmental,” Cole said. “We don’t know the circumstances. Maybe it was a selfish socialite that didn’t want the stigma of a special-needs child, but it also might have been an abused single mother, without any means to care for a child. She may have felt someone else would give her a better life. We’ll never know the truth and, unfortunately, it’s something Ever will always question.”
“So she’s a ward of the state?” Tess asked.
“Pretty much, although my family is her benefactor.”
“Her benefactor?” Tess tried to process the fact that this tiny girl in front of her was treated like an object instead of a human being.
“This past spring, Ever needed new leg braces. She had outgrown her old ones and I’m sure she’ll outgrow these soon. Without new braces she can’t walk, but since she’s in foster care, sometimes there’s red tape involved in getting what she needs.”
“I don’t understand. You said she can’t walk without them.”
“She can’t,” Cole explained. “They not only support her, they stretch her overflexed muscles, allowing her more mobility. Without them, she’s confined to a wheelchair.”
“How