Broken Trust (26 page)

“I know, honey. Please believe me,
if I could take this pain from you, I would. I just want to help. We can’t give
up. Not ever.”

Lyn might have reached over and
hugged Kristen, but a driver pulled up behind them and blared the horn of their
car. Lyn jerked her head around. Kathy Newton, a woman she’d recently met at
Kristen’s school, waved at them. Returning the gesture with a plastic smile,
Lyn pressed on the gas. Two blocks later, she turned the corner and parked in
front of the doctor’s office before killing the motor.

“Maybe this new doctor can help you
walk straighter,” Lyn suggested. “Your old doctor highly recommended him.”

A prosthesis specialist in such a
small town was rare. Apparently this doctor was a former U.S. marine. Lyn had
been told that he’d seen several of his buddies lose their limbs during the
wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that he’d done a lot of work in the field of
prosthetics. And that was good for Kristen.

“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.