The Silken Cord (36 page)

“Nothing can help me walk without a limp.
Everyone will always know something’s wrong with me,” Kristen
said.

The ominous words were spoken to the glass
window pane. Kristen refused to look at her and Lyn couldn’t blame
her. Since the accident, Lyn could hardly stand to face herself.
She’d hoped her transfer to this small ranching town might help
make a difference for both of them. The slower pace. Fewer people.
The jagged mountains and open, windswept valleys covered by
bleached grass and sage. They both needed time to heal. Lyn had no
outward scars, but inside, the accident had disfigured her beyond
recognition. She’d never be the same again.

Neither would Kristen.

If only there was some way Lyn could go back
in time, she’d find a reason to miss their appointment to view the
appaloosa mare. Their family had been so carefree that evening.
Excited to buy Kristen’s first horse. Both Lyn and Rob had been
raised on a ranch and Rob had been a regional rodeo champion during
high school. They wanted to share their love of equines with their
daughter. They’d discussed the idea for months. Kristen was
fearless on a horse. She’d make such a great rider.

Having just picked up Rob from work, Lyn had
been driving the car. Kristen had been sitting between them in the
front seat, all of their seatbelts securely locked. They’d been
talking. Laughing. And then Lyn turned onto a narrow street with a
guardrail. The grille of a semi truck filled their view, followed
by the sickening thunder of the crash. No time to react. No time to
move.

Now, Lyn closed her eyes tight, absorbing
the memory as though it just happened. If only she’d swerved and
missed the oncoming truck. Maybe if she’d hit the brakes sooner. Or
taken a different route. Anything to have changed the outcome.

Losing Rob had stolen all the joy in their
lives. That night had been the last time they’d laughed together or
felt genuinely happy.

The last time Lyn had prayed.

Filled with gloomy thoughts, she got out of
the car and walked around to the passenger side to help Kristen.
Again, the girl brushed aside Lyn’s hands.

“I’ll do it myself,” the girl grumbled.

Lyn stood back, waiting nearby in case
Kristen stumbled. In reality, an ocean of hurt separated them. Lyn
wondered if they’d ever be close again.

Kristen hobbled toward the doctor’s office.
With each wrenching step, the foot of her cumbersome prosthesis
smacked the cement sidewalk like a club. Lyn had to keep herself
from flinching at the horrible sound. She followed close by,
wishing Kristen would use her wheelchair more. But the girl
refused. Lyn held her arms outstretched to catch Kristen in case
she fell.

Inside the small office, Kristen plopped
down onto a cushioned chair. An older man sat across from them, his
denim shirt accented by a turquoise bolo tie. Twin streaks of gray
marred his straight black hair. Parted in the middle, the long
strands flowed past his shoulders, ornamented by a single white and
gray feather. He held a beat-up cowboy hat in his leathery hands.
Though he showed no expression on his tanned face, his intelligent
black eyes gazed at them with unwavering frankness. The wide bridge
of his nose and high cheekbones clarified his heritage. A proud
American Indian. Probably Shoshone. Lyn knew they had a tribe here
in Stokely.

Ignoring the man’s piercing gaze, Lyn
stepped over to the front counter and spoke to the receptionist.
“I’m Lyn Warner. My daughter has an appointment at three
thirty.”

“Yes, welcome. I’m Maya and we’ve been
expecting you.” The matronly woman smiled, her rosy cheeks
plumping. She swept a waterfall of straight black hair away from
her face before handing Lyn a clipboard with papers attached. Maya
also appeared to be of Shoshone heritage. “If you’ll just fill out
this information, I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”

Picking up a pen, Lyn sat beside Kristen and
started writing. She was vaguely aware of Maya calling to the
elderly man sitting across from them. He stood quietly and went to
the counter to retrieve a bottle of pills.

“You take one of these every morning,
Billie. And just so you know, I’m gonna call your wife to make sure
you do. Helen will tell me if you’re on your medication or not.”
Maya’s voice sounded thick with warning.

Billie grunted a derogative reply. The pills
rattled in the bottle as he shoved them into a pocket of his blue
jeans. As he passed by to leave, he stared straight ahead, speaking
not a single word. The epitome of dignity and cool disdain.

Lyn dug inside her purse for her insurance
card. When she finished the paperwork, she returned the clipboard
to Maya.

“Thanks. Why don’t you come on back?” Maya
indicated a side door.

Like always, Lyn stood beside Kristen as her
daughter struggled to stand. Lyn’s fingers itched to help Kristen,
who was determined to do it by herself whether she looked odd and
stumbled or not.

The girl braced her hands on the armrests,
gained her balance, then clopped forward, her upper torso jerking
back with each awkward step. Maya opened the door and stood there
smiling until Kristen passed through, then led the way down a short
hall to an examination room.

Inside, Kristen sat on the only chair, a
grimace of pain showing her discomfort.

“Is it hurting you today?” Lyn asked.

“No.” A short, curt word.

Lyn knew better. The wound had healed, but
it’d only been a year. The stump continued to pain Kristen whenever
she wore her prosthesis. But the girl hated her wheelchair even
more. And Lyn knew Kristen’s autonomy would diminish with the
chair.

Lyn was determined to speak with the doctor
about this. The brave girl refused to show any more signs of
weakness than what had been forced upon her. So daring and
courageous. So determined not to quit in spite of the adversity she
faced. If only this new doctor could help her somehow. If only…

The door rattled and the doctor entered the
room. Lyn’s breath froze in her throat. The man glanced first at
Kristen, then at the clipboard in his hand, but Lyn recognized him
instantly. A tall, jet-eyed man with short, coal black hair shaved
high and tight like a U.S. marine. Like her, Lyn figured he was in
his mid-thirties. With high, chiseled cheekbones, wide shoulders
and long, solid legs. Dark and extremely handsome, in a dangerous
sort of way. Except for his eyes. Fringed by thick lashes, they
sparkled with gentle warmth.

“Cade!”

He looked up, his gaze mirroring her
shock.

No, he couldn’t be the angry rancher who
thought Lyn was a threat to the mustangs. He didn’t like her, he’d
made that obvious last week when he’d saved her from the wild
stallion. Surely he couldn’t be Kristen’s new doctor.

But he was. Oh, this day just kept getting
worse.

* * *

Cade lifted his head, but didn’t speak for
several moments as he contemplated Lyndsy Warner’s presence in his
office. Her golden eyes held his like a vice grip and he sensed her
deep intelligence as she studied his face in return.

“You…you’re Kristen’s new doctor?” she
asked.

“Apparently.”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t make the connection.
But you said your name is Cade.” Her expression looked
deflated.

“That’s right, although I’m Dr. Baldwin when
I’m working in my office. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Now he regretted not asking her full name
when he’d met her in Secret Valley last week. He hadn’t put it all
together. Lyn was a bit different than Lyndsy. He decided the name
Lyn suited her better. Finding out the new forest ranger’s daughter
was one of his patients took him completely off guard.

The tribal elders wouldn’t like this. No,
not at all.

His gaze skimmed the woman’s skinny jeans,
red blouse and white tennis shoes. Instead of pulled back in a pony
tail, she wore her long blonde hair straight and soft around her
face. But her eyes. A tawny-gold color, like cooked honey, sweet
and smooth. Right now, she looked like a normal housewife, not a
forest ranger. Not a threat to the wild horses. And certainly too
young to have a daughter so old.

Likewise, she inspected him. The stethoscope
hanging around his neck. The white smock he wore open over his blue
chambray shirt. His denims and scuffed cowboy boots. He shifted
nervously, wishing she’d stop looking at him.

“Uhm, when you rescued me from Buck, I
didn’t realize you were a doctor.” A stiff smile curled her full
lips, but didn’t reach her beautiful eyes.

“Yeah, we didn’t talk about that.”

“I thought you were a rancher.”

“I own Sunrise Ranch, but it’s not big
enough to grow crops and livestock anymore. My grandparents left
the place to me. I just live there now.”

“Oh.” She continued to stare.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to hide his own
feelings of confusion.

She looked away. “Yes, I’m sorry. It’s just
that you’re not really what I imagined a prosthesis specialist
would look like.”

He made a soft scoffing sound, the heels of
his boots thudding against the wooden floor. “Is that because I’m
part Shoshone Indian?”

“No, no. Not at all. I didn’t know until
now. Although that’s fascinating, too.”

She found his heritage fascinating?
Ironically that was how he would describe her. But he wasn’t about
to ask her to enlarge on her comment.

“I’m one half Shoshone, on my mother’s side.
Any less, and I wouldn’t be eligible to belong to the tribe,” he
said.

With a Caucasian father and a Shoshone
mother, he’d spent every childhood summer in Stokely with his
mother’s parents. He’d been in Afghanistan when his grandfather
died and left him Sunrise Ranch. All his life, Cade had dreamed of
becoming a doctor and opening a medical office here to benefit the
Toyakoi Tribe, his Shoshone people. Now he was here, he was haunted
by memories of war. Only his faith in God kept him sane.

“Is my ethnicity a problem for you?” he
asked.

She snorted. “Of course not. It’s just that
you seem so…so casual for a doctor.”

Kaku, his grandmother, had always told him
he was wild and untamed. Like the mustangs running free in Secret
Valley. And yet, he wasn’t wild. Not anymore. The war had changed
him. He’d come to realize what was really important in life. God,
family and living with honor. Now, he just wanted to settle down
and find peace. But one thing was missing. He had no family. They
were all gone, now. No one to share his hopes and dreams with. No
one to love.

And he felt the emptiness like a hole in his
heart.

“I’d look a bit out-of-place in Stokely if I
ran around in a business suit.” He reached for a stool on wheels.
Pulling it over, he sat down in front of Kristen. “And you didn’t
tell me your daughter was one of my new patients.”

“I didn’t realize at the time.”

And whether he liked it or not, it appeared
he’d now get to know them even more.

He faced Kristen, smiling to alleviate the
girl’s worried frown. “So, Kristen, how are you today?”

“Fine.” Her voice sounded uncertain as she
held her clasped hands tightly in her lap. Rather than happy and
smiling, she looked anxious and withdrawn.

Frightened.

He made a pretense of scanning the
clipboard. “You’re what? Twelve, thirteen years old?”

Kristen’s brow crinkled and she shook her
head, looking away. Unsure of herself. Cade didn’t like that. If he
was going to help this child, he’d have to win her trust.

“I’m only ten, but I’ll be eleven next
November,” she said.

Cade widened his eyes and drew back as
though amazed. “Is that right? Well, you’re sure pretty and you
look older than your age. Very grownup.”

His flattery brought a flush of pleasure to
the child’s cheeks. Ah, he had her now. He loved helping people, he
always had. But for some innate reason, he felt strongly that he
must help this little girl feel better about herself. No matter who
her mother was and what she did for a living.

“I’ve spoken to your doctor in Reno and he’s
told me you’re wearing a C-leg prosthesis. Can I take a look?” Cade
asked respectfully.

Kristen nodded, pulling her skirt up to a
modest inch just above her skinny knees. Or rather knee.

Setting the clipboard aside on the counter
by the sink, Cade studied the mechanisms of the prosthesis. Pink
and white scars crisscrossed the thighs of her amputated leg and
also her good leg. “Were both your legs injured?”

She nodded, but Lyn answered. “After the
accident, they were only able to save her left leg.”

Thank heaven they were able to save that
much.

Cade reached for the socket of the
prosthesis, his fingers pressing and pulling gently as he tested
the fit around Kristen’s stump.

“I don’t think it fits properly,” Lyn said.
“She’s had a recent growth spurt, which may have changed the
fitting. It’s hurting her. She isn’t able to walk very well.” She
stepped near, hovering close by Kristen’s side.

Cade liked the genuine concern he heard in
Lyn’s voice. The tenderness as she brushed a protective hand over
the girl’s arm. It made her seem more human.

“We’ll see.” He bowed his head low, his
attention on Kristen, but his words for Lyn. “How’d you hear about
my office?”

“Dr. Fletcher said you’d recently completed
an internship with the Craig Stratich Group. I’m aware that they’re
leading specialists in prosthetics and research. I accepted my job
in Stokely, knowing there’d be a qualified doctor here to work with
Kristen.”

He grunted his acknowledgment, betraying his
nervousness. The tribal leaders wouldn’t want him treating the
forest ranger’s daughter, but he had very little choice. He
certainly would never turn the little girl away. Above all, he felt
compassion for the child. She needed his help and he couldn’t
refuse.