Rocky Mountain Match (3 page)

“But now, with these bandages on, I still can’t see.” Raising his focus to where she sat directly across from him, he wished he could see, but he couldn’t even open his eyes through the thick bandages. “And there’s a slim chance that my vision might not be what it was.”

He swallowed against the admission. If his sight didn’t fully return, he’d have to find independence as soon as possible or he’d never be able to stomach himself.

“Oh, Joseph, don’t be silly. You’re going to be fine,” Julia dismissed, then took a bite of something that crunched.

Awkwardness flooded his resolve. He could hear Miss Ellickson arranging things on the table, even dishing items onto his plate while he sat rigid as a board, every muscle in his body stiff and unyielding to the internal cry to relax. All he wanted was to be left alone, but Julia was being unusually possessive and Miss Ellickson was intent on doing her job.

A job he didn’t even hire her to do!

“Your plate is in front of you,” Miss Ellickson began, her voice low and measured. “Now, like numbers on a clock face, there’s a thick wheat roll at nine o’clock, mashed potatoes at twelve o’clock, cooked carrots at three o’clock and roast at six o’clock. If you’ll raise your hands to feel for your plate,” she directed, pausing as if waiting for him to follow her lead, but he couldn’t seem to move his hands from where they were tightly fisted in his lap. “You’ll find your fork to the left of your plate, spoon
and knife on your napkin to the right. And your glass of grape juice is about three inches to the right of your plate, at two o’clock.”

From across the table, Julia’s sharp scrutiny bore down on him like a locomotive. He tried to ignore it. The aroma rising from the food normally would’ve made his mouth water, but instead his stomach churned. His discomfort could reach a swift end if he insisted they leave, but at this point he was too stubborn to give in.

“Shall we give thanks?” Miss Ellickson asked.

The distinct air of vulnerability in her voice pricked Joseph’s heart, but he quickly brushed it aside as though it were a pesky bug. In spite of his surging anger, he bowed his head as Julia’s utensils clanked to silence against her plate. Truth be told, over the past weeks he’d spent more time telling God what to do than talking with Him or thanking Him. Had God heard his plea for healing? Or had He passed him by for good?

On a long sigh, he began to pray. “Lord, thank You for this meal. Bless the hands that prepared it.” Remembering his sister-in-law’s tenuous health and the certain stress Aaron had to be under, he added, “And be with Ellie and the baby. Keep them safe.”

“Amen,” Miss Ellickson whispered after a long pause.

With a curt nod, he sat in the offending darkness, trying to ignore the daunting insecurity as he struggled for self-control. Pulling his sagging shoulders back, he braced himself, unwilling to look like a helpless excuse for a man—especially in front of Julia.

Crisp, metallic sounds from her silverware sounded against her plate. She hadn’t uttered one word in the past moments, but he knew she must be closely monitoring his
every move. Her sharp inspection pierced like tiny shards of glass.

Could he do this? With his head bowed, Joseph tried to picture the things set before him. He slowly slid his hands up to the table, probing for his knife and fork. Once he’d located his utensils, he raised them to the plate.

“Now, when you’ve located your fork and knife—”

“I’ve eaten without help in the past, Miss Ellickson,” he cut in, knowing even as the words formed on his lips that he should just swallow his pride. “And I can do it now.”

Joseph fought to still his trembling hands. As he made a stab for the meat to cut it, the supple chunk seemed to dodge his effort, sliding away from him. His fork fell from his grasp, clanking loudly against his plate.

He couldn’t miss the small gasp Julia gave. “Oh, no, Joseph, you dropped your fork,” she announced loudly.

“Really?”
Fumbling for his fork, he put it to the plate again while inside tremors of fury thundered. When he couldn’t locate the piece of meat with his utensils, his agitation increased.

“Here you are, Mr. Drake. The roast is back on your plate,” his teacher spoke evenly.

The roast had flown off his plate?

Steeling himself, he struggled to gather his composure as he repositioned his fork toward the carrots. With intense focus, he tried to recall where she’d said they were—three o’clock or ten o’clock? Framing one side of the plate with a hand, he set his fork to the plate, succinctly stabbing one long spear and cutting it in two. A small sigh of relief passed his lips as he opened wide and directed the carrot in. It brushed his lips, tumbled down his shirt, then fell to the floor with a moist thud.

He gritted his teeth as Boone immediately shifted across the floor and sniffed at the vegetable. Joseph’s breathing came heavy, labored. The loud rushing in his ears grew almost deafening.

“It’s all right.” Miss Ellickson’s tone was low and even.

He slammed his fist on the table to ward her off. He would do this alone or drown in a pool of humiliation.

“If you’ll put your fork to the plate,” she offered, forced patience lacing her words, “and first gauge where the food—”

“
I
will do it!” Joseph interrupted angrily, acutely aware that not one morsel of food had made it to his mouth yet.

Humiliation ricocheted in his mind like a shotgun blast in an underground cavern. Groping for his knife, his hand careened into his glass of grape juice. It tipped, the glass clinking on the solid wood.

“Oh, my new dress!” Julia yowled, her chair scraping away from the table. “My beautiful new dress! It’s ruined!”

Joseph sucked in a shaky breath. He stood, knocking his chair over with the back of his legs and sending Boone scurrying away, toenails scratching across the floor as the loud crash reverberated throughout the house.

Hearing the frantic sound of Julia wiping at her garment, Joseph brought his hands to his head, threading trembling fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he forced on a broken breath.

“Please don’t worry, Mr. Drake. Accidents happen,” Miss Ellickson responded quietly as she rose and crossed to the sink. “I’ll get it cleaned up.”

He drew quivering fingertips over the bandages covering his eyes, failure’s evil taunt screaming through his thoughts. He was sickened at his stubborn pride. Balling his
fists firmly at his sides, he clenched his teeth tight. Even if he couldn’t see, he should be able to make it through a meal.

Simple things were now difficult. Difficult things, seemingly impossible. When he’d been released from bed rest, he thought he’d feel more comfortable, more capable. Instead, he felt more like a prisoner than a free man.

He jerked suddenly at Miss Ellickson’s light touch on his arm. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wondered what you’d like for me to do?”

Julia huffed. “Isn’t it
obvious
that you’ve already done quite enough? Just look at the mess he’s made,” she hissed. “Poor Joseph obviously isn’t ready for this. I’m certain that you can’t be doing him a bit of good by pushing—”

“Stop!” he growled. “Just leave, now.”

A moment of crushing silence was followed by the whoosh of Julia’s skirts as she walked toward the front door. “I can tell when I’m not wanted,” she spat, her voice laden with unveiled disgust as she stormed out, slamming the front door behind her.

“Mr. Drake? I’m terribly sorry about all of that.” Miss Ellickson slid her hand off his arm. “I’ll understand if you want to call it a day.”

Tilting his head down toward her, he wished he could see her. He just wanted one glimpse. From the moment they’d met this morning, she’d seen him at his worst, with behavior he didn’t even know he was capable of. She’d taken his rude, unyielding responses with a stiff upper lip. Why? Who was this woman who would sacrifice her own comfort and willingly endure the ugliest part of him?

U
nadulterated fear had shown like gaping holes in Mr. Drake’s stony wall of composure. From five years of experience working with the blind, Katie had learned to recognize the sure signs. And she’d never seen such desperation. All morning she’d witnessed it in his tensing jaw, tight fists and grim expression. She was worn out just watching him work so hard to fortify himself against the fear.

She stood for several moments on his porch, her legs weak as she clutched her books to her chest. He’d said that he’d lost his appetite. That he needed some time to think. And she knew when to let up a little. After all, this was all so very new and painful for him.

Breathing deep, she welcomed the soothing west wind filtering through her skirts, cooling her skin. For over three hours she’d remained stalwart in spite of his unyielding behavior, though she’d nearly bit her tongue in two when Miss Julia Cranston had shown up. It wasn’t Katie’s business who that woman was to Mr. Drake, but whatever her relationship, Miss Cranston wasn’t taking
into account his vulnerable state. And for that Katie felt fiercely protective.

Compassion for him tugged at her heart. It was clear that this man of strength and self-sufficiency had been dealt a very difficult hand in life. Things were horribly unfamiliar to him. Maybe for now, anyway, he felt like a shell of what he had been.

Still, Katie could see an iron will there—and a fortitude that perhaps he didn’t even realize existed. He was unlike anyone she’d worked with. Decidedly stoic, yet beneath that stony exterior, a vulnerable man, scared to death. And she wanted to do everything she could to give him back his life.

Squaring her shoulders, she struggled to gather her wits before walking the distance back to Uncle Sven and Aunt Marta’s. She’d never hidden her feelings well. No doubt they’d worry if she showed up looking as distraught as she felt.

Brushing wisps of hair from her face, she started down the three steps, but came to an abrupt halt when Mr. Drake’s voice penetrated the solid walnut barrier.

“Why? Why me?” he choked out, his halting footsteps shuffling from the area of the kitchen where she’d left him, toward the front room. “How could you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?” Mr. Drake’s voice rose in volume, twisting her heart with its mournful, almost terrorized sound. “Why, God? Why me? You have to let me see again!”

His deep, raw cry sent shivers down her spine and a piercing sword to her heart. When she heard him knock something over, her breath caught in her chest.

“Oh, God! You—
promised!
” Heaving sobs broke his words.

A heavy object slammed against the door.

Swallowing hard, she blinked back hot tears stinging her eyes. She could try to comfort him right now, but he’d reject it. She could do everything she knew to aid him in gaining physical freedom, but only God could heal his wounded heart.

Lifting a trembling finger to her face, she swiped a tear sliding down her cheek as she remembered his awkwardness this noon when he’d prayed. She didn’t need eyes to see that his relationship with God was being sorely tested. How well she knew that reality—her own trust in God had been pulled up painfully short in the past year.

“God, please help him,” she whispered. “Help me.”

From behind the door, Mr. Drake’s breathing came in audible gasps. “God, You pr-promised you wouldn’t forsake Your own!”

“Go ahead, Joe-boy. Hit me as hard as you can,” Aaron provoked, his words sounding more like he was offering to loan Joseph his boots, rather than his face.

“Hit all three of us till you can’t pull another punch if it makes you feel better,” Ben added in complete earnestness. “You need to do
something
. You’re about ready to explode.”

Joseph balled his fists and sucked in a slow breath, trying to hold his mounting frustration at bay. Since yesterday he’d felt like a tightly coiled spring begging for release. The reality of his inadequacy had hit him full force, and since then he’d been fighting just to stay clear of the bitter rage that nipped at his heels. In the past if he were angry, he might’ve laid a well-aimed ax to logs, splitting wood till he dropped, but now he couldn’t even
seem to make it around his house without knocking something over or bumping into a wall.

Last night he’d successfully warded off his brothers when they’d shown up on his doorstep. But this morning they wouldn’t be put off. For the past thirty minutes Ben, Aaron and Zach had been trying to get him to talk about yesterday. They’d said that Miss Ellickson wouldn’t divulge a thing, but that Julia had given away plenty. She’d been loose-lipped all over town.

If he needed a reason to be mad, that definitely could’ve been it, but for some reason he didn’t really give a coyote’s hide. Whatever she’d said was probably true. He could hardly blame her for spouting off. Had he insisted that he be left alone to eat his meal, then she wouldn’t have had a thing to talk about.

Julia’s stories were to his benefit anyway. His blessed privacy would be ensured this way. No one would brave visiting if they knew how uncomfortable they’d be.

“Come on, Joe-boy, swing at one of us,” Aaron urged. “We’re standing right in front of you.”

“This is your chance, big brother,” came Zach’s low voice. At twenty, he was the youngest of the Drake brothers and had been striving to sow something other than wild oats. “I reckon you’ve probably been wantin’ to do this to me more than a time or two.”

“Ha! Are you giving us the opportunity, too?” Aaron guffawed. “Line on up, boys! Maybe we could knock some sense into Zach—keep him from making any more dirt-poor choices.”

Joseph could hear a scuffle in front of him and figured that Aaron was probably ruffling Zach’s hair or faking a punch. Like a couple of playful bear cubs, they were
always messing around, but he knew it wouldn’t amount to much. Zach had made some bad decisions—decisions that had almost landed him in jail. They were just glad he was finally holding down a job as a ranch hand, and hadn’t gone the way of the third brother, Max, who’d taken off eight years ago with his inheritance and then some, and was living on the run.

“You two yahoos cut the bantering! We’re not here about Zach, we’re here about Joseph,” came Ben’s firm warning. “Come on, Joseph. We’re not kidding. Let loose—it’ll do you good.”

Joseph gave a low growl. “Would you three knock it off?”

Shaking his head, he pushed between them and with hands outstretched and clumsy, shuffling steps made his way to the dining table. He grasped the top rung of a chair, leaning heavily into it. “You might as well stop this charade. I’m not going to hit any of you. Never have, never will.”

Aaron came to stand beside him. “Maybe you
need
to haul out and hit us. We know you enough to see that you’re about ready to blow. I’ve never seen you so dog-gone angry.”

“I’m not allowed to be angry?” His jaw muscles tensed.

“No. It’s not that,” Aaron answered. “We can’t blame you at all for being angry. Can we, Ben?”

“Absolutely not.” Ben’s long strides brought him to flank Joseph’s other side, followed by Zach. “You’ve been calm and collected since your accident—handling things better than most people would. Believe me, I’ve seen folks go through far less, only with a mountain of ill-tempered attitude. I’m just glad to see you finally showing some kind of emotion.”

Pushing up to his full height, Joseph raked his fingers through his hair. “Well, then, what is it? Would you do me a favor and clue me in on what you’re getting at here, because so far you’re not making a lick of sense.”

After a long moment of silence Aaron spoke up. “Flat out, Joseph…we’re worried.”

“Worried? About what?” Shoving his hands on his hips, he shook his head. “If anyone should be worried here, it’s me. The three of you are acting like you just got kicked in the head by a horse.” Waving his hand in the air, he yelled, “Quick! Get a doctor!” Then he knocked the side of his head with his hand. “Oh wait! You
are
the doctor.”

“Don’t try to dodge the attention like you always do,” Ben retorted, clearing his throat. “Now listen, we’re here, in part, because we’re worried about Miss Ellickson.”

He jammed his hands on his hips and furrowed his brow. “Miss Ellickson?”

Just thinking about the mess he’d made of dinner yesterday sent shame, thick as mud, coursing through his veins. But then like a flag of warning, concern for Miss Ellickson rose inside him. “What about Miss Ellickson? Has something happened?”

“She’ll be here any minute now. And Ben, Zach and I—we’re here to make sure you plan on being civil to her.”

He gave a short harrumph. “You don’t think I will?”

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Ben answered in a no-nonsense tone. “Like I said yesterday, you’ve always been a gentleman in the past, but as angry as you are, we don’t want you scaring her off. She’s come a long way to work with you.”

Another day with her definitely didn’t sit well with him. Not at all. Last night he’d barely gotten a wink of
sleep thinking about her. He’d been bracing himself for her return and now here his brothers were, showing more concern for her than loyalty to him.

He felt trapped. Trapped in his home. Trapped in his body. Trapped in a fear so unfamiliar.

Taunting disorientation blanketed him and he struggled to steady himself against the unnerving effects. “What would make you think that I’m going to scare her off, anyway?”

Ben slid a chair over the hardwood floor and sat down with a weighted thud, Zach and Aaron following his move. “Oh, you wouldn’t intentionally do that—I don’t think, anyway. But believe me, you can be intimidating even when you’re not angry.”

“Yeah. It’s like the Red Sea parting every time you walk through a crowd,” Aaron quipped with a chuckle. “Wish I had that effect.”

Joseph tightened his grip on the chair. “I’m not the one who invited her here. When you mentioned the idea in the first place, I made it clear how I felt. But then you showed up with her in tow, pushing me into this whole thing. I went through with it yesterday and I’ll do the same again today, but I’m telling you, I’m just going through the motions.”

When Aaron reached over and grabbed Joseph’s arm, Joseph flinched at the unexpected touch. His brothers meant well—Ben had gone above and beyond in his care of Joseph. Aaron had been carrying twice his usual load in the shop, and Zach had risked losing his tenuous position as a ranch hand to help out. They were doing so much, but nothing they could do right now would make him feel better. True, he could batter them bloody, but
somehow he knew it wouldn’t touch the strange bitterness and pain that had settled deep in his heart.

Ben squeezed Joseph’s forearm. “You don’t have to like the training and you don’t even have to like Miss Ellickson. All we’re asking is that you be
civil
to her and give her a chance.”

Oh, he’d give her a chance all right. He’d suffer through two more weeks of this. She might even show him something that could make the time bearable. But if he had his way, she’d be gone after he returned from Denver to see the doctor. It didn’t matter where she went—she could even stay in Boulder for all he cared—he just didn’t want to need her.

Joseph lowered himself to a chair, set on hiding his raw emotions from his brothers. “All I can say is that I hope she’s not disappointed when I don’t need her after all. Seems like an awful long way to travel to work for only a couple of weeks.”

When he heard Ben clear his throat, his pulse began a rapid beat in his ears. He could imagine what Ben would say next, so he quickly added, “And you can breathe easy. You have my word…I’ll be on my best behavior. I’ll be a veritable welcome wagon from here on out.”

Mr. Drake stood in front of Katie, his tall, tightly muscled frame filling the doorway. “Come in.”

Come in?
Katie silently mouthed as she peered up at him to see one of his hands hooked over the top of the door, the other gesturing for her to enter. Since yesterday she’d prepared for a goodbye fare-thee-well, sure that he would refuse further training, but now he’d invited her to—to come in?

She’d prayed all night long that he wouldn’t give up, and if he did, she’d try to persuade him otherwise. Terrified of going home, she needed a reason to stay here in Colorado. But also, after meeting Mr. Drake yesterday, she wanted desperately to help him find freedom again.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

With an armload of books, she squeezed by him, acutely aware of his solid form so near hers. When she removed her pale straw bonnet and hung it on a coat hook, her attention was drawn to the floor where a Bible lay sprawled open. Her breath caught as she remembered hearing something crash against the door yesterday. She tenderly scooped up the Bible, its cover worn with the passage of time and its pages yellowed and frayed from use. Carefully cradling it against her chest with the other books, Katie steadied her wavering emotions. “Your Bible. You must have dropped it.”

Without a word, he quietly latched the door.

“I’ll just put it over here on the mantel for you.” After she’d laid it on the beautifully crafted mantel, she turned and noticed Boone lying beside one of the wingback chairs. “Well, good morning, Boone. How are you this fine morning?” Kneeling beside his massive head, she held out her hand to him.

Katie smiled as he pressed his big, wet nose into her palm and stared up at her with expressive brown eyes. After giving her a wet kiss, he flopped his head down on the wood floor with a dull thud. She smoothed the unruly hair on top of his head. “I certainly hope this means we’re on friendly terms.”

Still smiling, she rose and returned to where she’d left Mr. Drake standing. She nervously fingered the row of
silver buttons trailing down her high-necked white blouse. “And how are you today, Mr. Drake? Are we on friendly terms, too?”

He pushed away from the door, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “I suppose you were wondering if I’d call it off?”

“To be perfectly candid, the thought had crossed my mind.” Threading her fingers together in front of her, she added, “I was very much hoping you would continue with the training.”