Waiting for Morning (The Brides Of Last Chance Ranch Series) (16 page)

“Did your sister tell you that I’d like to work with you? That is, if you’ll let me.”

Donny eyed him with a wary look. “She said something.”

Something? That didn’t sound too promising. “Good. We’ll start slowly.” He pulled a chair in front of Donny’s and sat.

Donny leveled Caleb with dark, glittering eyes. “What good will it do? I’m helpless,” he grumbled. “Can’t you see?”

Caleb studied him. What had happened since Sunday to put Donny on the defensive? “You’re not helpless. You need help. That’s a big difference. Everyone needs help. God made us that way to keep us connected to one another.”

The youth glowered at him. “
You
don’t need help.”

“As a doctor, I probably need more help than anyone. I need help from other doctors, from scientists, from medicine, but mostly from God.”

Donny folded his arms and frowned. “It’s not the same thing.”

“We can sit arguing about it or we can get to work. Your choice.”

Donny obviously didn’t know what to make of him, and that was good. Kept him off balance and less resistant. “Have it your way.”

Donny sat limp as a rag doll as Caleb examined him from head to toe. As expected, Donny had a very limited range of motion in his legs, but it was his undeveloped chest and arm muscles that worried Caleb most. Until Donny built up those muscles, he would never be able to care for himself. But first he had to gain the boy’s trust.

“Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do? Where do you like to go?”

Donny made a rude sound with his lips. “I can’t do anything or go anywhere. I’m crippled.”

“You’re not crippled. Your legs don’t work,” Caleb said matterof-factly, as if they were talking about something as mundane as the weather. “You just have to learn to do things a bit differently.” He glanced at the stack of science books on the bedside table. Most of them had to do with astronomy.

“You don’t need legs to study the sky. Or be an astronomer and discover another planet.” Both hands on Donny’s right foot, he flexed it up and down. “You can do anything you want with your hands, and your brain can take you anywhere you want to go.”

Donny glared at him, his face red. “You’re nothing but a snake oil doctor. Just like my sister said you were!”

“Molly said that, did she?” A memory of flashing green eyes and a pretty pink mouth came to mind, but he quickly shrugged it away. “So tell me, what’s the hardest part of being in a wheelchair?”

“People acting as if I’m not there,” he said, staring down at his pale legs.

“I’d hate that too,” Caleb said.

“Actually, I hate it more when people do stare at me. They don’t do it much,” Donny said. “They mostly stare at my sister.”

Caleb nodded. That Molly was something, all right. Even he couldn’t help but stare at her. Just thinking about their first encounter made him smile. He was lucky she shot Bertha instead of him. Suddenly aware that Donny was giving him an odd look, Caleb cleared his throat.

He quickly finished his examination and handed Donny a piece of pipe ten inches in length. Donny seemed embarrassed about his legs. For that reason Caleb decided to work on his arms first so he would be less self-conscious.

“Raise it over your head like this.” He demonstrated before handing Donny the pipe. “It’ll build up the muscles in your arms and shoulders.”

“I’m not doing that. I can’t!” Donny threw the pipe down. Magic lifted his head off his paws and watched the lead bar roll across the tile floor.

Donny’s body shook but whether from anger, frustration, or fear it was hard to say.

Caleb waited for Donny to calm down. Fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes passed and neither spoke. A breeze wafted through the windows, filling the room with a hint of sage. The curtains fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, but Donny remained motionless.

Finally, Caleb stood, picked the iron pipe off the floor, and set it next to the stack of books.

“Okay, you have a choice to make. Either you work with me or you don’t. If you choose not to, then the chair you’re sitting in will be your prison. If you work with me, that same chair will be your friend and will help you do whatever you want to do.”

“I don’t want to do anything.”

“Not even go to the observatory in Flagstaff?”

Defiance crossed Donny’s face. “How am I going to get there, eh?” He narrowed his eyes. “Tell me that.”

“I plan on traveling to Flagstaff myself one day, but I’m not taking any prisoners.”

Donny’s face stilled but he said nothing and Caleb gathered his black leather case and headed for the door.

“Before you go . . .”

Hand on the doorknob, Caleb waited.

“Close the curtains.”

Caleb released the doorknob and crossed to the window. “I still
come to the ranch from time to time to check on Miss Walker’s horse.” It was no longer necessary, but he enjoyed the ride to the ranch and didn’t want to consider that Molly was the real attraction. “If you change your mind, open the curtains and I’ll know. If I see the curtains closed, I won’t bother you.”

He walked out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
Okay, God, don’t hold back. Step in whenever You’re ready and help me here.

Chapter 15

E
leanor stomped into the house and hurried toward her office.

Surprised to find the crippled boy in the main room trying to reach for a hefty tome in her extensive library, she reached over his head for the book and handed it to him. “I’m afraid you’ll find that dull reading. It’s all about cattle.”

“Cattle are pretty interesting,” he replied. “I read all the books on the lower shelf.”

That was a surprise. To her knowledge, no one had ever touched her books—certainly none of the many hopefuls who had answered her advertisement for an heiress.

“Have you now?”

His forehead wrinkled as if he feared he had done something wrong. “Did . . . did you know that eight pair of boots can be made from a single cowhide?”

Eleanor pulled off her leather gloves. “Good for a boot maker to know.”

“And a single steer produces a hundred pounds of fat. That’s a lot of candles.”

“Is there a point to all this?”

He gnawed on his lower lip. “Meat doesn’t even make up half of a steer’s weight.”

Eleanor slapped her gloves into the palm of her hand. “As far as I know, no one has figured out how to raise boneless cattle.”

“According to what I read, the beef industry is expected to decline in the twentieth century.”

The boy was losing her interest fast. “Now you sound like my banker.”

“Yes, but there are other ways to make money,” he said eagerly. “Beef tallow is already used for lubricating locomotives, and soon the fat will be used to make medicine and fuel, even glue and lady’s paint.” The boy studied her with eyes the same green color as his sister’s. “It doesn’t seem fair that you do all the work and someone else makes most of the profit.”

“What happens after I sell my cattle is of no concern to me.”

“It would be if you owned a meat packing house,” he said.

The suggestion surprised her. During all the hours she’d spent discussing this very subject with Robert and her foreman, no one ever suggested the idea of the ranch owning its own packing house. She wasn’t certain of the practicality or even if it was something to consider at her age, but she was impressed that one so young came up with the idea.

“What’s your name?” Her abruptness of voice sent a shadow of worry across his face. If she wasn’t so old she might consider working on her curt manner of speaking, but why bother at this late date? People eventually got used to her ways and no doubt this boy would too.

“My name is Donald but everyone calls me Donny.”

“Donald it shall be. My main problem at the moment is other ranchers overstocking the land. That’s what I have to think about.”

“I’ll think about it too.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Will you now? Very well then. I’ll let you get on with your thinking.” She started toward her office.

“If you could look down from the sky, cattle would look like stars,” he called after her.

She stopped at the threshold, hand on the door frame, and looked over her shoulder. “Stars?”

He shrugged. “You’d have to look at the earth from way up in the sky. Higher than a hawk.”

“I imagine so.”

“You might even be able to pick out a constellation, like the big dipper. But not if the cattle are all crammed together.”

Eleanor arched a brow. “Yes, I can see where that might be a problem.”

“Cattle should be spaced like stars. According to my calculations, one steer per sixty acres should last through a drought.”

Eleanor laughed. Something about the boy was most appealing. “Surely you’re not asking for a job?”

He practically shook with enthusiasm. “I’m good with figures, especially the ones with dollar signs. I even know how to calculate the distance to the sun.”

“I’m sure some people will find that information most useful.” She hesitated.

“
If
your sister works out”—doubtful at best—”perhaps we can find something for you to do.”

An eager look brightened his face. “I’d . . . I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

“Very well then.” She walked into her office and closed the door.
Cattle are like stars? Constellations?
She shook her head. The idea wasn’t any crazier than promising a wheelchair-bound boy a job.

Hampshire had called her a doddering fool. Good heavens. Perhaps he was right.

Donny stared at the door long after Eleanor had shut herself in her office. A job on the ranch? He couldn’t believe it. But Miss Walker didn’t seem like the kind of person to say something she didn’t mean.

He told the truth. He
was
good at numbers but only because he’d read that mathematics was a necessary skill for astronomers. Back in Dobson Creek he spent sleepless nights staring at the canvas ceiling, multiplying and dividing numbers in his head.

The first of every month he made his sister take him to the general store to purchase the latest science journal. He was able to teach himself basic trigonometry and calculus from the astronomical graphs printed inside. But that was when he still believed that it was only a matter of time before he would get up and walk.

He stopped believing in miracles the day his father died. Molly wasn’t allowed in the church and he would always remember sitting outside in the cold while a pitiful small group of miners paid their respects.

Whether it was the reality of his father’s death or the cruelty of other people, he didn’t know, but his dream of becoming an astronomer no longer seemed possible.

Now his mind spun with exciting new possibilities. Never once had he considered working on a ranch.

The doc’s voice sounded in his head.
“You can do anything you want to do.”

Was that true?

Dare he imagine himself working in the ranch office while his
sister chased cattle and trained horses? Would Miss Walker trust him enough to pay the bills and make the money last until the next shipment of cattle sold? Would Molly then look at him differently— not just like her poor baby brother but like a man?

Rosita walked into the room, feather duster in hand. Seeing him, she backed away. She always tried to avoid him, but she wasn’t alone in that regard. Both Rosita and her brother, Jose, treated him like he had the plague or something.

“Wait!” he called. “Don’t go. I’m not going to ask you to come near. I just want you to . . . open the curtains in my room. Would you do that for me? Please.”

Rosita nodded. She backed all the way out of the room before she turned and fled.