The More I See (4 page)

He averted his head, his expression closed off from her. "He learned a good lesson he's not likely to forget."

In the short time she'd known Cody, she'd already surmised he wasn't a man who spoke big about his accomplishments. He wasn't someone who needed affirmation that he'd done well.

He just did what had to be done.

Admiration for what he'd done filled her anyway as she leaned forward in the chair, resting her elbows on her bare thighs. The skin on skin contact felt sticky.

"Why don't we get real daring and move beyond talk about sunscreen and accidents ... oh, I don't know, go for a walk. Otis and I have been getting acquainted with the area. You could show me around the stables and tell me all about your horses. What was the name of the one Beau was training—"

"I'm not in the mood."

She nibbled on her lip. "Look, I know how scary it can be."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I've been there."

"I'm sure you have. I'll just bet you've met lots of useless men like me who can't even find the bathroom stall unless they're taken by hand like a two-year-old."

She changed her voice, knowing beyond the harsh edge of Cody's voice lay a lot of fear.

And she did know that fear too well. "I've helped a lot of people move beyond anger and frustration to a better life."

"Great, then you've earned a nice big gold star and automatic entry into heaven for being a hero."

"I'm not a hero, Cody. But you can be. To yourself. By getting out of that chair."

Lyssa's voice rose higher than she'd intended it to. And she realized for the first time since she'd arrived at the ranch that she was becoming desperate herself. Desperate that she'd fail.

He laughed wryly. "Sorry, Alyssandra, but you won't be finding a hero in a man who can't even cut his steak without some help."

Lyssa flinched. What nagged at her more than Cody's attitude was the fact that there was more than a grain of truth in his words. No, not the hero part.

She knew if Cody just opened himself up to the idea of how Otis could change his life, he would be a hero to himself and regain his independence. That is, if the rest of the family would stop treating him like that two-year-old he constantly complained about being.

Last night, she'd sat down at the dinner table and watched him with frustration as he tried to cut the steak they'd had for their meal. If Cody had gone to some classes for the blind, he would have learned how to deal with these things, gotten to a point where he felt comfortable asking for help if he needed it. Instead, he'd fumbled with his knife and fork only to have a slab of steak fall off the plate and onto the clean white linen tablecloth.

Nothing was said, but Isadore immediate brought him another dish with a fresh piece of steak, this time cut into smaller pieces for him.

It had to have been humiliating. But Cody never uttered a word. He didn't have to. He just didn't eat.

Lyssa suspected part of Cody's problem wasn't Cody at all, but the way those around him treated him. Maybe Mike Gentry's disappearance on the ranch had nothing to do with him lying to the school, as Lyssa had suspected, but with being unable to watch his son falter.

Regardless of the reason, Lyssa wouldn't contribute to it. She'd quietly speak to Isadore and the rest of the family to make sure they understood that as of right now, they had to treat Cody as a man who could stand on his own two feet. Because that was exactly what he was, even if he didn't believe it.

She stood. "I'm tired of sitting around. Let's go for a walk, Cody."

"I told you I'm not in the mood."

"Then get in the mood. Anything is better than wasting away by the pool. You've got your whole life ahead of you. I'm getting bored with this game of yours and no matter what you say I know you are, too."

"I apologize if I haven't shown you proper hospitality," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hospitality has nothing to do with it. You're being a coward."

"Get away from me," he said, his voice lethal, causing her to inch back in her seat.

She'd meant to get a charge out of him. Fight fire with fire. But instead, he seemed resigned with the fact that he was indeed a coward.

Heroes weren't only strong, able-bodied people who could leap tall buildings with a single bound. They were everyday, flawed people who yelled at their kids and cried with a friend. People who made mistakes, got shoved down and stood right back up. People who did the impossible when it seemed impossible. Not because they weren't afraid, but because they didn't have it in them not to act even when they were afraid.

Cody was that kind of hero. Lyssa could see it in him, even if he couldn't. She only had to listen to the stories from the people who worked on the ranch, hear the admiration for Cody in their voices, through their words, to know how much respect they all had for him. Cody just needed something to break him free from the anchor holding him down, something to show him that he could indeed be a hero and reclaim his life again. He needed a push.

Her pushes weren't even making him sway.

Lyssa turned away from the forlorn look on his face and immediately shielded her eyes from the sun's stinging glare on the surface of the pool water. Her skin was hot and it was only a matter of time before it would turn pink.

She wouldn't sit there, and she refused to allow Cody one more minute wallowing in self-pity. Pushing up the sleeves of her shirt in a huff, she said, "I'll be more than happy to get away from you, Cody. But just answer me this. What ever happened to getting back on that horse when you've been bucked off? Huh?"

"I fail to see how you can compare losing my eyesight with riding a horse."

Not allowing her frustration to get the better of her, she began to pace to clear her head before she spoke.

"It's the same thing. You've been thrown. I'll even give you that it was one hell of a fall.

But the only logical thing to do is get up and go on."

"Go for your walk, Lyssa," he said coolly.

Her blood pounded in her head until she swore it would explode. The man was

infuriating! She didn't care how depressed he was. He wouldn't even give it a try.

She swung away from him, bunching her fists up to her side, needing to gather up her irritation and seal it tightly in a bottle before she could try to calmly reason with him.

Blinded by frustration, she didn't calculate how close she was to the edge of the pool.

With one step too many her bunched fists became outstretched wings as she tried to catch her balance. But it was too late, she was already going airborne. She took a deep breath before she plunged into the clear water.

"Lyssa?" Cody sat in silence, almost relieved. No, he was irritated as all get out. He'd been waiting for her, much as he hadn't wanted to. He'd pushed her away and now that she'd taken off, he ... didn't really want her gone. What was it about this woman that had him seesawing back and forth?

Otis began barking and there was a scrape of paws on the concrete. Not only did the barking continue, but Otis had now added a frantic whine to it. He'd yet to hear the animal react so insistently.

Cody sat up straight and tried to hear above the dog's cries.

"Hey, Lyssa," he called aloud. "You forgot your dog!"

He wanted to be irritated that she'd gone off all half-cocked and left him with a barking dog but...

Splashing. Yes, there had been a splash. A choke, maybe a cough. He wasn't sure.

"Lyssa?"

There was another swoosh of water and his heart leaped to his throat, then started jackhammering in his chest.

"Lyssa, this isn't funny. Answer me," he said, his voice rising to a fevered pitch.

The dog continued to bark. Through the splashing, he heard nothing. No voices. No cry for help.

Where the hell was Isadore? She was always watching him. If something had happened she would have flown through the door by now.

He inched his way out of the chair with great control, easing himself over to where he thought the table was. But as he feared, with every wave of his hand, he couldn't connect with it.

He listened, but only heard the dog's bark.

"What is it, boy? Did she leave without you? Did she fall in the pool?"

Another splash and a cold chill raced through him, making him shiver.

"Lyssa? Talk to me."

He dropped to his hands and knees and quickly moved away from the sound of the dog.

He knew where the table was positioned in relation to the pool and the house, but somehow, maybe his chair had been moved and now his bearings were shot. God, he hated not being able to see!

He couldn't recall if he'd heard more than just a splash. Had she dove into the water?

Maybe hit her head? He hadn't been paying attention. He'd been too angry. Too self-absorbed.

He closed his eyes as fear pummeled him, opening them again to the cold blackness that was always startling.

"Say something, Lyssa!"

Cody squashed down the hysteria filling him. If she'd fallen in the pool and hit her head somehow, it would be too late if he went in search of Isadore or Beau now. Brock wasn't home.

He'd left earlier that morning and probably wouldn't be home until late.

He was already wasting too much time just thinking. Fear bubbled up his throat as he crept along the concrete, choking him. Pebbles dug into his palms and bit into his knees through his blue jeans as he crawled along the patio, feeling his way to the smooth edge of the pool. Otis was clearly upset by the splashing and that could only mean one thing. Lyssa was in trouble.

Holding the edge, Cody eased into the pool, felt the cool wetness seep into his clothes and chill his skin. All the while he was straining to hear which direction the splashes were coming from above the dog's bark. He could barely breathe, his heart lodged in his throat.

He tossed his hat and his sunglasses to the side of the pool, hearing the glasses connect with the concrete. He waded in waist deep toward the sound of the now occasional splash, until he reached a point where the pool's floor dipped.

"Lyssa?" he said. She wasn't answering and that wasn't a good sign.

The dog barked, and he heard the splash of water that may have been his own. He wasn't sure. Fear leveled him. Good God Almighty, how on earth would he find her?

He was a strong swimmer, had always been since he was a child. If he moved too quickly and she sank below him he might miss her. Deliberately, he forced himself to remain calm and move evenly. He dipped underwater, frustrated that he couldn't see any better below the water than he could above. As irrational as it seemed, the darkness still shocked him.

He concentrated on the sound happening underwater and pushed himself forward, arms moving back and forth. He heard a cough and came up for air, listened, then dove under again with another forceful thrust. He couldn't hear the splashing anymore.

"Lyssa," he called out when he came back up for air. He was in deep water, unable to touch the bottom. He hoped to God Lyssa wasn't below him. He moved again and felt his foot kick against something. Twisting his body around, he reached out and felt her arm, grabbing it as she lashed at him.

He drew her to him, feeling his way to push the hair from her face and her mouth. She coughed, and with that sound, relief flooded him. She might have swallowed water, but at least she was breathing. Her arms were thrashing, striking him in the face and shoulders, as if she were struggling.

"You're okay, Lyssa. I've got you," Cody said, hooking his arm around her and swimming in the rescue position that he'd learned years ago as a young boy taking lessons.

Lyssa was tinier than he'd imagined. The thought struck Cody hard, in contrast to his first impression of her. Although he had to admit he'd tried real hard not to imagine what Lyssa McElhannon was like behind all that sass and steam. And although she was a little bony, she was soft against him.

He pushed those wayward thoughts away and concentrated on his movement, on getting them both out of the pool.

His hand touched the edge of the pool and he felt his feet hit bottom. Relief washed over him as he stood and realized he was in the shallow end of the pool.

"Don't fight me. I have you. I won't let you go under," Cody said as Lyssa coughed. He picked her up and lifted her out of the water.

She coughed a few more times. "I'm okay. You can let go of me."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"I am. Please put me down."

He dropped the arm that held tight to her knees and felt the swish of water around his denim-clad legs as her feet submerged, but he held tight with his other arm around her waist. His boots, which he'd neglected to pull off in exchange for precious time, were now filled with water and made it difficult to move steadily.

"I'll help you climb out."

"No, really. I can do it. I just wasn't looking. I can't believe I fell in."

"I'm going to have Isadore call 911. You need to be checked."

"You're making too much of this. I'm fine. It was a simple accident."

"For God's sake, you nearly drowned, Lyssa. I just want to make sure you didn't swallow too much water."

"Please, Cody, I fell in the pool. Big deal. It's not like it's the first time I've done something this stupid."

"You mean, you make a habit of this sort of thing? Didn't you ever take swimming lessons?"

He felt droplets of water spray him as she shook her head. "No, I didn't. And I'm just not a good swimmer. I'm not very coordinated, either, it seems. Never been."

When they reached the stairs, she climbed out first. He gripped the rail and climbed out behind her. Instinctively, he returned his arm to her waist without a thought of how he was going to get back to the house.

The dining room screen door opened and he heard the click of Isadore's shoes on the concrete by the pool.

"I turn my back for a minute to do laundry and you decided to take a swim without even changing into a bathing suit," she said, thrusting a terry towel in his hand.

He unfolded it and since he knew Lyssa was standing just next to him, he draped it around her shoulders and began to rub her back.