“Then you can take my elbow, like we did yesterday. It’s the preferred way to navigate as opposed to holding one’s hand or being pushed along. But if you use the cane, as well,” she added, hoping to appeal to his greater sense of reason, “you’ll be able to tell what might be lying in your path.”
“No, thanks.” His curt response and the way his jaw tensed left her void of any argument.
“Why don’t you tell me about the layout of your home? Don’t be vague about where your furniture is located, so that you’ll have a clear picture in your mind.”
With a slow exhale, he made a detailed description, his tone reminiscent at times as he described his home to a T.
“Perfect. Now, try to relax and walk at a normal pace and I’ll match your stride.” When she gently guided his hand to her arm, a tingling warmed her skin. She fought to ignore the sensation, resolute in her desire to remain professional. “I’ll do the counting and make sure you don’t run into anything.”
He tensed beside her, his grip tightening slightly. “All right. But I’ll warn you that I’m a little shaky on this.”
“You’ll do fine. Trust your instincts. If you’re aware, you should be able to sense when something is in your way.”
Cautiously he took a step while she began counting. Then with each step following, his grip tightened as though she alone kept him from falling off a steep precipice. His hand trembled. His breathing grew shallow.
At eighteen steps and just inches from the back door, she stopped. “Now, use your hand that is outstretched to see how close you are.”
Perspiration beaded above his full lips. With one hand he clutched her arm, with the other he tentatively reached out, groping for the unseen. When his trembling fingers brushed against the wall, he exhaled a broken sigh.
Covering his hand at her elbow, her heart squeezed at seeing how much this had cost him. She peered up at Mr. Drake, taking in the stark change in his demeanor from just moments ago, when stubbornness waved like a proud battalion flag, to now, when raw fear weighed his shoulders and head down low.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Very well done. Your pace was just fine.”
He slid quivering fingers over his lips, then raised a fist to his bandaged eyes. “You’d think I could make it across the room without breaking a sweat,” he ground out. “I may as well have been scaling a mountain.”
“Don’t be discouraged.” She squeezed his hand. “It takes time getting used to all of this.”
“It’s my own home. I should be able to walk across the room without trembling in my boots.”
“You’re doing just fine—especially since you’ve only been up for a couple of days.” She turned to face him. “Taking everything into account, you’re doing very well.”
His face softened some, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “You’re Little Miss Sunshine, aren’t you?”
A warm blush crept up her cheeks. She smiled at his comment, surprised once again by his congeniality. “Better that than gloomy.”
“Far as I can tell, you could never be accused of that,” he replied, his hands still trembling some.
“There’s a bright side to everything.”
“What could be positive about this?” He gestured to his bandaged eyes.
Hugging her arms to her chest, she stared at him, the way he wore frustration like an unwanted old coat, and desperation like an acquaintance of ill repute. “You’re right, Mr. Drake. Your injury is not something easily reckoned with. Not having your sight is certainly nothing short of difficult, and I’m sure you wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Even an enemy.” Katie tried to steady the quiver in her voice. “But even as uncertain as things are right now, you can focus on where you’ve been or on where you’re going.”
His lips formed a tight, distressed line. “I wish I could. But taking a step forward when I can’t see where I’m going…it scares me to death.”
At his admission, sadness rose within Katie. She was shocked at the tiniest crack he’d allowed into himself, an opening that gave a glimpse into his silent battle.
Threading her fingers together in front of her, she searched for the right words. “I know this isn’t easy. In fact, I’m not sure how I could face such a thing. If you don’t regain your sight, there’ll be challenges. It won’t be easy, but I promise you it will be rewarding.” Katie gathered a bit more boldness, then added, “And if you’ll allow me, I’ll be here beside you to help you find your way to the other side.”
Chapter Four
Embarrassed once again, Joseph’s face flamed hot. He was sure he’d suffered more humiliation in the past five days than he had his entire life.
He bit back a groan, trying to ignore his frustration. Having worked with Miss Ellickson for almost a week, why was he having such a hard time doing a simple task like pouring water from a pitcher? If he didn’t fully regain his vision, how would he ever be able to work in the shop again, handling sharp tools?
“Here, let me help you,” Miss Ellickson offered, the quiet calm in her voice beckoning him like a peaceful stream. “Sometimes trying too hard makes things more difficult. Now, lightly grasp the glass like this.” She gently positioned his fingers around the glass, her touch soft and soothing. As she slipped his forefinger at the last knuckle over the rim, she said, “Don’t hold too tight. Keep a light touch. Remember how that feels and now find the pitcher.”
Deeply concentrating, he was determined not to spill again as he slid a hand along the counter to find the pitcher. When his fingers connected with the stone pitcher, he noticed how it was beaded with perspiration from the hot August day.
“Got it,” he confirmed.
Once he’d painstakingly set the lip of the pitcher over the rim of the glass, he poured the water. And when the cool liquid reached his finger, he pulled the pitcher back and sighed.
“There you go, that was perfect! Not one drop spilled.” The reassurance in her voice brightened his gruff mood enough that he even relaxed a little. “See? You can do it.”
He angled his head down to Katie. “Thanks, Sunshine.” Joseph smiled at her, hoping that she noticed, because so far this week it seemed as if all he’d done was scowl. In turn, she’d never once gotten impatient or cross with him. “Always the encourager, aren’t you?”
“You deserve it. You’re working very hard.”
When she gave his hand a light squeeze, he couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like. “You know, I figure that if I was a cat, I’d be dead.”
“What?” she asked on a laugh.
“I’d be dead from curiosity.” Raising his brows, he took one step closer to her. “You see, Miss Ellickson, you’re the only new person I’ve met since my accident. And your appearance—I mean the way you look—is still a mystery to me.”
The air seemed to grow warm and thick between them. His entire being hummed in full awareness of her presence beside him.
“Good thing you’re not a cat, then,” she finally responded, her voice sounding tight, strained.
Joseph gave an almost imperceptible nod, wishing that his brothers would indulge him with a few words about her physical appearance. They’d sure been vocal about him treating her well, and being a man of his word, he’d been on his best behavior. Although at this point he didn’t really need encouragement to do that—Miss Ellickson was easy to like.
He decided that when he returned from Denver with his vision intact, she was the first person he wanted to lay eyes on. If her