Healing Hearts (5 page)

Read Healing Hearts Online

Authors: Margaret Daley

“Hold it right there, kiddo. No way will you race around this house. Slow is the only speed you’re going to use.”

Madison’s mouth went from a smile to a pout instantly. “Aw, you know how to take the fun out of something new.”

“Besides, in the house your physical therapist wants you to use your manual wheelchair. This one is for when you want to go outside. Maybe down to the barn.” Dominic said, squatting and putting one arm under her legs and the other around her back, then transferring her to the new electric wheelchair. “I have another surprise for you.”

Madison locked her hands together around his neck. “What?”

“Miss Impatience, give me a chance to show you how to use—”

Madison put the wheelchair into a forward motion and made a large circular path in the den around the grouping of couches and chairs with only one mishap when she drove into the long table behind one of the sofas. A vase wobbled near Abbey, and she lunged toward it, catching it before it toppled to the floor.

“I think I need to adjust the speed. You’re going a little too fast.”

“You call this fast?” Madison headed toward the exit.

Dominic hurriedly planted himself in front of the doorway. Madison came to a quick halt, then put the wheelchair in Reverse. Gabe scrambled out of the way. Dominic leaped toward the chair and switched it off in back.

“What’s the problem? I don’t need to learn how to operate it. It’s easy. Push this to go forward and pull it to go backward. Piece of cake.” Madison giggled. “You did have Mrs. Ponder make my favorite cake, didn’t you? Is that the surprise?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Dominic hovered over the right arm of the wheelchair in case his sister decided to put it in motion again. “Aren’t you ready for a nap? I sure am.”

Madison’s laughter increased. “No, I’m tired of being in bed and sleeping.”

“It’s only been six days since your surgery.”

“Forever when you’re stuck in a hospital room.”

“You weren’t in your room all the time.”

Abbey decided to step in. “What’s the other surprise? Madison may have forgotten about it, but I haven’t and I am definitely impatient.”

“Yeah, what is it?” Madison directed her look at her brother.

“If you hadn’t interrupted me with your antics, I’d have shown it to you by now.”

“I’m not stopping you now.”

He shook his head and started for the hallway. “Mrs. Ponder told me I would regret getting you an electric wheelchair for places that would be hard to roll your other one.”

With Abbey next to the girl, Madison trailed after her brother. Gabe hung back and didn’t come when Abbey patted her hand against her leg. Abbey stopped and looked back a few seconds at her dog.

The child frowned. “What’s wrong? Gabe, come on. I want you to see my surprise, too.”

Gabe’s tail swept the floor, but he stayed put.

That was when Abbey remembered an incident with another kid at the hospital the week before. “I think he’s scared of your electric wheelchair. A little boy ran over his tail with one. Gabe yelped and refused to visit the child again.”

“I don’t blame him, but I wouldn’t do that, boy.” Madison slapped her hand on the top of her thigh. “Come, Gabe. Please.”

Her dog barked twice.

“That’s his no.”

“What’s his yes?” Dominic asked from the entrance.

“One bark.”

“Why isn’t he scared of my other wheelchair?” Madison turned her chair completely around and moved toward the Lab.

Gabe stood and backed away, positioning himself between the coffee table and couch where Madison couldn’t go.

“Gabe knows the difference. I haven’t had a chance to work with him yet on getting used to the electric one.”

Madison glanced at her brother. “Will you move me to the other wheelchair for now? I don’t want him to be afraid of me.”

“Are you sure?”

With her solemn gaze fixed on Gabe, Madison nodded.

Dominic transferred his sister back to the manual chair. “Let’s go. I’ll even run with you.”

Before Madison could say anything, he pushed her out into the hall at twice the speed he had coming into the house. Abbey signaled to Gabe to come to her side. Her Lab made a wide detour around the abandoned electric wheelchair. Abbey hooked the leash to his collar and headed into the hallway to find that Dominic had parked Madison in front of a panel wall.

Madison grinned from ear to ear. “My very own elevator?”

“Yep. I can use the stairs. It’ll keep me in shape. I’ve got to do something now that I’m not pushing you around. I can’t lose my manly figure.”

Madison’s laughter sprinkled the air.

And brought a smile to Abbey. When she neared the pair halfway down the hall, she saw Madison’s surprise—an elevator.

“Before you test this baby out, I want to show you what else I’ve done while you were in the hospital. This way.” He rolled his sister to a door at the very end of the hall and came around to open it. “This will be where you can work with your physical and occupational therapists. Everything will be handled here. You probably figured you’d have to go back to the rehab center, but not now.”

Abbey moved closer and peeked inside. When she looked at Madison, tears shone in the child’s eyes.

“Thank you. I don’t want others see me try to walk.”

Dominic clasped her shoulder and squeezed her gently. “I know. You hated going, but soon you’ll be having some kind of therapy every day.” He inhaled a deep breath then swung the wheelchair around and went down another hallway. “I’m not through yet with your surprises.”

Abbey glimpsed the parallel bars and other pieces of equipment before hurrying after the pair as they disappeared around the corner. The aroma of a cake baking grew stronger the closer she came to Dominic and Madison.

Brother and sister entered the kitchen. The housekeeper removed three round cake pans from the oven and set them on a wire rack, then returned to a large bowl at the mixer. Mrs. Ponder nodded toward Dominic but barely acknowledged the child as he crossed the room to the back door. As Abbey followed them, the older woman threw her a cold glance, especially when it fell on Gabe at her side.

When Dominic opened the back door, a ramp stretched out from it. “We have one in front, but I wanted you to feel you could go anywhere you wanted. That’s why I got you the electric wheelchair. To give you some freedom. The past months you’ve been confined inside. I know how much you like to visit the horses at the barn, so I’ve had a path laid that will enable you to do that easily in your electric wheelchair. When you use a walker or crutches later, the path will make it easier then, too.”

Over Dominic’s shoulder Abbey spied the black barn in the distance, with a sidewalk that led to it from the back of the house. Horses grazed in black fenced pastures nearby. Not far from the pool sat a large yellow playhouse, and it even had a ramp to allow Madison to go inside.

“I want you to do what you used to as much as possible.” Dominic rolled Madison outside onto the deck—which ran the length of the back of the large house.

“Can I go to the barn? I want to see Spice.”

“Sure. I thought you might so I had Chad make sure to bring Spice in from the pasture for you.”

“I need to take some carrots.”

“I’ll get some for you.” Dominic went back into the kitchen.

Gabe tugged on his leash. Abbey stepped toward Madison so Gabe could be next to her. “You have a fun backyard.”

“Daddy built that playhouse for me a couple of years ago. I used to love playing in it, especially when my friends came over, but...”

Abbey came around to face Madison. “Well, now that you’re home, you can see your friends again.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to. Not like this. I can’t do what they can. I...”

Dominic strode from the house with several carrots in his grasp. He glanced from Abbey to Madison. “What’s wrong?”

“Madison was just telling me about her playhouse.” Abbey intended to say something to Dominic later about reconnecting his sister with some of her friends. The child needed to be around others her age, to get some fun back into her life.

“There should be room for you to turn around in the playhouse. I checked it out.” Dominic passed the carrots to Madison, who perked up when she saw them. “Let’s go visit Spice. Your cake should be ready by the time we get back. We’ll have Mrs. Ponder cut some slices for us. It’s your favorite, chocolate with vanilla icing.”

Abbey walked next to Madison. “I don’t know about you, but my mouth is watering just thinking about it.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Madison’s shoulders slumped, and she stared at the carrots in her lap.

“When was the last time you saw Spice?” Abbey asked, watching the child’s body language.

“The day before the accident.” Madison shifted around and peered at Abbey. “What if she forgot who I am? It’s been a long time.”

“She won’t have forgotten you. Lots of animals have a long memory when it comes to stuff like that.”

“I hope so.”

Dominic arrived at the yard in front of the barn. “Look who is coming out to greet you.”

The girl lifted her head. “Spice!”

Walking bowlegged, a cowboy, probably in his fifties, led a pinto out of the open double doors toward Madison. “My lands, child, she saw you coming and began prancing around. Here, would you like to hold her reins?”

“Do you think she missed me, Uncle Chad?”

“She’s been pining for you. I usually keep her in this paddock next to the barn, and she hangs out at this here fence, watching the back door at the house.”

Spice dropped her head near Madison while the girl held up a carrot for the pinto to munch. When there were no more carrots, the horse nudged the child until she began stroking Spice’s nose.

“I’m thinking she remembers you and misses you.” Uncle Chad winked at Madison. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s horses.”

Gabe planted himself next to the wheelchair and watched the exchange between Spice and Madison. The pinto finally acknowledged the dog’s existence by sniffing him. Gabe let her. When Spice returned to Madison, Gabe yelped once.

“Gabe approves of Spice.” Abbey moved closer to Dominic while giving Gabe more of the leash.

Madison’s expression emphasized how important animals were to her. She connected to Spice, but she also took time to rub Gabe and give him attention while all three acquainted themselves with the others. Abbey immediately thought of the abandoned dog she’d taken in. She hadn’t named her yet, and she was beginning to think that was because she thought the bichon would be perfect for Madison.

“I’d like to bring the little dog I just took in to meet your sister. I think Madison and the bichon would get along great,” Abbey whispered to Dominic, not wanting the child to hear in case her brother didn’t agree.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to try to replace Zoe so soon? They went everywhere together. Zoe even slept with Madi.”

“I think it’s worth seeing if it would work.”

“We’ll see. So much with Madi is up in the air until she heals.”

“But a lot of it doesn’t have to be. A kid needs to feel everything around her is the same where it can be. Routine gives comfort. The familiar does, too.” Abbey had worked hard to make sure Lisa’s life was as normal as possible even in the middle of the fight for her life.

“We’ll let Madi decide what she wants after she spends some time with the dog. I think Gabe will be hard to replace.” Dominic grinned. “He’s a charmer and reminds me of my golden retriever the more I’m around him.”

“Yeah, he senses what others need and tries to give it to them.”

“Unless they’re in an electric wheelchair.”

“He does have his limits, unfortunately.”

Dominic’s gaze snagged hers. “How about you?”

“Everyone does,” Abbey said with a chuckle. But behind his expression was a seriousness, as though he’d been questioning his own limits. She remembered doing that about this time after her daughter died.

* * *

“The end,” Abbey said, and closed the book she’d read to Madison in her bedroom later that evening.

Madison’s eyebrows scrunched together. “But it’s not the end. I want to know if Nancy Drew catches the thief.”

“It’s the end of chapter six. Dominic will have to read you the next one tomorrow night.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because I won’t be here.”

“You read so much better than my brother. You use different voices for the different people.”

“My dad used to do that when he read me stories.”

Madison’s eyes clouded. “My dad never read a story to me. It was always my mom. I miss them.”

“Of course you do.” Abbey hoped the child would say more about her parents.

Gabe lay on top of the covers near Madison with his head resting in her lap. She stroked him over and over. “Don’t tell Dominic he doesn’t read as good as you. I don’t want him to stop reading to me.”

Abbey acted as if she were zipping her lips. “He won’t hear it from me.”

“He’s trying his best.”

Abbey placed the Nancy Drew book on the nightstand, her hand quivering. She’d loved the series as a child. Now she would never get the chance to read a Nancy Drew book to Lisa. “What do you mean?” Abbey curled her hands into fists to still the slight trembling.

Madison leaned toward Abbey and lowered her voice. “He doesn’t know what to do with me. He’s never had a little girl. All he’s ever done is work. At least that’s what my parents used to say. ‘Dominic can’t come. He’s overseas.’” She tilted her head as she sank back against the pillows. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s out of the country. I imagine his work involves a lot of traveling.”

Gabe lifted his head and looked toward the door. “Shh. That’s probably him coming,” Madison said.

Dominic came into the room not ten seconds later. “Sorry about that delay. I had to take the call. Are you ready for me to read the next chapter, kiddo?”

“Abbey already did. She read Nancy Drew when she was my age.”

“Yep, I went on a journey down memory lane.” Abbey rose to allow Dominic closer to his sister. When he’d first appeared in the doorway, she’d seen a struggle taking place within Dominic—as though he were fighting to keep an upbeat expression on his face. Something was wrong.

Other books

Prudence by Jilly Cooper
A Widow for One Year by John Irving
The End of Country by Seamus McGraw
Daybreak by Belva Plain
Bette Davis by Barbara Leaming
The Giveaway by Tod Goldberg
Down Among the Dead Men by Peter Lovesey
Emperor by Stephen Baxter