The Amish Christmas Cowboy

Chapter Three

Hushing the kinder, Sarah moved aside to let the EMTs stabilize Toby’s ankle. How useless she felt! If she’d had the training she yearned for, she could have helped him instead of having to wait for the rescue squad to arrive.

“Sarah?”

She looked at Mr. Summerhays, who crooked a finger to her. Telling the youngsters not to move or interrupt the EMTs, she went to where her boss stood by the paddock fence.

Without preamble, he said, “I want you to go to the hospital with him.”

“Me? But why?” The words were out before she could halt them.

“Someone needs to go.” He glanced at J.J.

Sarah understood what her boss didn’t say. He wanted to get his business with the Texan taken care of as soon as possible. With the racing season underway at Saratoga, Mr. Summerhays made it a practice never to miss a single race of his horses or horses that might compete with his.

“Ned could go,” she said.

“Ned?” When she looked past Mr. Summerhays toward the overbearing cowboy, he frowned. “We’re going to need an extra hand to get the horses settled.”

“The kinder... I mean, the children—”

He interrupted her. “Leave them with Mrs. Beebe. She can watch them for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Okay.” What else could she say? Mr. Summerhays was her boss, and he was the kinder’s daed.

He held out a cell phone. “Use this to call for a ride when you’re done at the hospital.”

“I have a phone.” She pulled out Alexander’s.

“Oh.” Mr. Summerhays looked puzzled for a moment, not recognizing his son’s cell phone. “Well, good. I trust you to make sure he gets the best possible care. I’ll call the hospital to let them know that I’m responsible for the bill.”

“Ja, sir.” Though husband and wife were too distracted with their pursuits to give their kinder the time and attention they craved, they were generous. “I’ll call you—” She halted herself when he raised a single finger. “I meant, of course, I’ll call the house when we’re done at the hospital.”

“I can go and get him,” J.J. said as he came closer.

Mr. Summerhays waved aside his words. “Nonsense. There’s no need for you to put yourself out. Sarah can handle it. She’s had a lot of practice dealing with small crises like this.”

Wondering if Toby would describe his injured ankle as a small crisis, Sarah nodded as the two men turned to go to the house. When Mr. Summerhays paused long enough to remind her the kinder should be left with Mrs. Beebe, Sarah nodded again. She was sure the cook was going to be annoyed. Mrs. Beebe had to prepare food for the household while the kitchen was being taken apart. She would be relieved when it was redone with the finishes Mrs. Summerhays had chosen before she left for Europe, but the end of the project was still weeks away.

Sarah gathered the kinder and led them toward the house, though she would have preferred to stay and watch George and Derek work. Taking the youngsters up the ramp into the kitchen, she wasn’t surprised when Mrs. Beebe, who was as thin as one of the columns, frowned.

“Now?” The gray-haired cook sighed as the kinder spread out in the huge kitchen, checking the many boxes stacked in every available space, blocking tall windows and cupboards waiting to be ripped out. “If they tip a cabinet on themselves, we’ll need another ambulance.”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Summerhays—”

“Go and do what he asked.” Mrs. Beebe waved her apron at Sarah. “I’ll find something to keep them out of trouble.”

Hoping the cook would do better than she had, Sarah rushed outside. She bumped into J.J., who was with Mr. Summerhays.

“Steady there,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders to keep her from falling. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, too, did you?”

Assuring him that she was fine, she hurried toward the paddock. She reached it as the two EMTs were raising the gurney with Toby strapped to it. Seeing his straw hat in the dust, she picked it up and carried it toward the ambulance.

Toby’s face was in full view without his hat. She was startled to see, in spite of his face’s strong lines and angles, a hint of boyishness that had been hidden before. Was pain forcing him to lower his guard a tiny bit?

“I appreciate your retrieving my hat,” Toby said, holding out his hand for it. “Danki.”

She didn’t give it to him. “Let’s wait until we’re in the ambulance.”

“We?” He started to sit up.

When Derek cautioned him to remain still, Toby leaned back against the pillow. He glared at her. She hoped he’d understand when she explained her boss—and his—had sent her with him. Maybe then he’d see she wasn’t any happier about this situation than he was.

Her prayer from earlier echoed in her mind. God, grant me patience. Please let this be the last time I have to save these little ones from their antics. At least for today...

She needed to be more careful what she prayed for.

* * *

Toby tested his ankle, shifting it as he sat in a wheelchair in the emergency waiting room. He couldn’t move the thick air-cast boot encasing his leg enough to do more than cause him pain. Had he groaned aloud? A woman stopped and asked if he needed a nurse. Thanking her, he shook his head.

He was glad when she kept going. Each person who passed by, and there were a lot, glanced his way and added to his self-consciousness.

Two hours ago, after a half-hour drive over pothole-ridden roads, he’d arrived at Glens Falls Hospital. Since then, he’d been subjected to X-rays, examinations and questions. He’d started to wonder if every member of the hospital staff had stopped in to see the useless man who couldn’t control a horse he’d trained for the past year.

Every member of the hospital staff except a doktor.

Finally, a short man had walked in wearing a white lab coat. He’d introduced himself as Doktor Garza before saying, “You did a real number on your ankle, Mr. Christner.”

The words had stung like a rebuke. He’d let his attention wander, and he was paying the price.

“How long before I can work?” Toby had asked.

“You shouldn’t put full weight on it for eight weeks.”

“Eight weeks?”

Doktor Garza had sighed. “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but to be honest, I haven’t seen anyone sprain an ankle quite that bad in a long time. You’re going to need to work with a physical therapist to strengthen the muscles so you don’t injure them again. If you don’t—”

A laugh from the cubicle where Sarah had gone with a nurse intruded into his thoughts about what Doktor Garza had said before leaving to check his next patient.

The desk was right behind where Toby now waited. He hadn’t listened to their conversation, but he sat straighter when Sarah spoke.

“Oh, it’s no worry,” she said with another easy laugh. “I can make sure everything is taken care of. I’m used to dealing with recalcitrant kids, big and small.”

The nurse chuckled, but Toby didn’t.

Was Sarah referring to him? He wasn’t going to be her problem. Once he returned to Summerhays Stables, he’d be on his way. The tenuous connection between him and the pretty redhead would be broken.

After he left there, what would he do?

Eight weeks!

Eight weeks of being unable to assist J.J. If his boss sent him back to Texas, he’d be as useless there. He couldn’t ride, not with the inflated boot on his right foot. He couldn’t take care of the animals, even the ones in the barns, because shoveling out a stall would be impossible on one leg.

Toby looked up when Sarah came around the side of the cubicle, carrying a white plastic bag. She gave him a taut smile.

“It’ll be at least forty-five minutes before someone can get here,” she said, taking a seat next to his wheelchair.

“Have you seen my boot? My regular boot.”

She pointed to the white bag on the chair beside her. “It’s in here with your instructions and prescriptions you’ll need to get filled. Do you want to see?”

“No hurry. It sounds as if I won’t be wearing my boot for a few days.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked in the gentle tone he’d heard her use with the Summerhays kids.

He couldn’t keep from thinking about how she’d told the nurse she was accustomed to taking care of stubborn kinder. Had she cast him in that role? “Not really.”

“Thirsty?”

He sighed. She was determined to take care of him as if he were a Summerhays youngster. How could he fault her for lumping him in with the rambunctious kinder? He’d been rude to her from the first word he’d spoken, and she’d made every effort to be nice. He doubted he could have acted the same if their circumstances were reversed. It was long past time for him to show her a bit of gratitude. She’d ridden in the bumpy ambulance with him and waited two long hours in an uncomfortable chair while he was tended to.

“I’m a bit thirsty,” he replied.

“Me, too. There’s a snack shop. We’ve got plenty of time to get something before the car arrives.”

When she stood, he almost apologized for his curt replies. She didn’t give him a chance as she handed him the plastic bag and grasped the handles of the wheelchair.

Toby grimaced as he caught the plastic bag before it could slide off his lap. He’d thought sitting by the entrance door was the most humiliating thing he could experience, but being pushed along the hallway as if in the middle of a bizarre parade was worse. The scents of disinfectants and floor polish followed them.

Behind him, Sarah kept up a steady monologue. He didn’t listen as they turned a corner. The slight jar sent pain surging through him.

When she steered the chair through a door as easily as he would have sent a well-trained horse into its stall, he saw a half-dozen colored tables. A pile of cafeteria trays was stacked to his right, and three people were pushing theirs along rails as they selected food and drinks. A woman with a hairnet and apron assisted them.

“What do you want?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“I was going to have a cup of tea.”

His nose wrinkled. “Make mine a cup of kaffi. Black.”

Sarah left him by an empty table and went to get a tray. Carrying it to the far end of the rails, she spoke to the woman in the hairnet, took two blue cups and went to the cash register.

Realization dawned on him, and when she set a cup of fragrant kaffi in front of him, he said, “Before we leave, I need to talk to someone about paying for this.”

“This?” She looked from his cup to hers in bafflement.

“No, the bill for the emergency room.”

Reaching for a packet of sugar, she sprinkled it into the tea. “Don’t worry. Mr. Summerhays is taking care of it.”

“No!” He lowered his voice when heads turned toward them. “I mean, I’m grateful, but I pay my bills.”

“You’ll have to discuss that with Mr. Summerhays.” Her voice was unruffled as she stirred her tea and then took a sip.

“I will. I don’t like being beholden to anyone.”

Sarah laughed as she had while talking with the nurse. “You say that as if I’m supposed to be surprised.”

Lowering his gaze to his kaffi, Toby said, “Sorry. I know I’m prickly.”

“As a blackberry bush.”

“Danki.” His lips twitched.

“It’s okay. It’s gut to see you can smile. I won’t tell anyone and ruin your stern cowboy reputation.”

“Stern? Is that what you think I am?” He looked at her in spite of himself.

She was staring into her cup. “I think it’s what you want the world to believe you are. Or maybe you were going for forbidding or contrary. They look pretty much the same to me.”

“How’s that?”

“As if you sat on a porcupine.” When she raised her eyes, they were twinkling with amusement.

“No, you can be certain that if I’d sat on a porcupine, folks would have heard me yelp from here to the Rio Grande.” He wasn’t sure if he should blame the pain arcing across his ankle or the drugs he’d been given to ease it for giving her such a playful retort.

When she laughed, her eyes widened when he didn’t join in.

“Sorry,” she said. “I know you’re feeling lousy.”

Seizing the excuse she’d offered him, he nodded.

They sipped in silence for several minutes. He was amazed the quiet didn’t seem to bother her as it had in that fancy room in the Summerhays house. She watched visitors and medical staff coming in and out. An odd expression darkened her eyes when a pair of EMTs wandered in to grab cups of kaffi. He thought about asking her if she knew the man and woman, but he kept his curiosity to himself.

Every question he asked, every answer she gave would add a layer to that connection he wanted to avoid.

“Finished?” she asked, coming to her feet.

He was surprised to see his cup was empty. He didn’t recall drinking the kaffi. His mind wasn’t working well.

She took the cup and threw it and her own into a trash can. Coming back, she reached to unlock the chair’s brakes.

For a split second, he wondered when she’d set them in place. The sweet aroma of her shampoo drifted to him, and he was tossed back to the moment when she’d helped him in the paddock. Having her holding him close had been enough for him to forget how much his foot hurt. The memory swept over him, diminishing the pain faster than any drug could.

Had he lost his mind? Thinking such things threatened his promise never to get close to anyone again. He needed to be careful. He had to remember how his heart had hurt each time he’d had to leave gut friends behind, knowing he’d never see them again. To be honest, somewhere along the way, he’d lost the key to his padlocked heart. He told himself it was for the best. How did he know he wouldn’t start acting like his parents, leaving without looking back?

Sarah straightened. “Are you okay? Maybe you should take another pain tablet so it’s working by the time the car gets here.”

“I’m fine.”

“Gut.” She bowed her head for a moment.

He thought her prayer would be silent, but she whispered, “God, danki for making sure Toby wasn’t hurt worse. Please send him quick healing. You know his heart far better than I do, but I don’t think he’s a patient man.”

Gnawing on his bottom lip, he remained silent. He pretended not to see her questioning glance in his direction. He didn’t want to explain he and God had an arrangement that had worked most of his life. Toby wouldn’t expect anything of God, and God wouldn’t expect anything of him. Knowing that had eased Toby’s sorrow each time his parents decided to move.

That was why a faint twinge deep in his heart astounded him. A twinge of longing? For what? To be close to God, who had given Toby a life of chaos and loss? He couldn’t see a reason to reach out to his Heavenly Father. He’d learned to get by on his own.

“Would you like to pray with me?” Sarah asked.

“Not right now. We need to hurry. I don’t want to delay J.J. more than I already have.”

She sat facing him again. “Don’t you remember? He’s left.”

“What?” This time he didn’t care that his raised voice caught the attention of everyone in the snack room. “How do you know that?”

“I found out when I called for our ride home.”

“When were you planning to tell me that little tidbit?”

“I told you while I was wheeling you here.”

He started to argue that she hadn’t, then recalled how pain had stripped his mind of everything. She had to be wrong. J.J. wouldn’t go without him.

When he said as much, she shook her head. “I asked for confirmation when I called, and I was told to tell you that he and Ned would—”

“Ned left, too? Who’s going to help get the horses settled?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s all your boss said. They’ll return in a couple of months to get you.”

“A couple of months?” He closed his eyes as waves of pain flooded him, waves he’d tried to ignore. Opening his eyes, he met Sarah’s. “What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Heal.”

“Where?”

“I told you. Mr. Summerhays has taken care of everything. There’s a guest room on the first floor near the kitchen. You can recover there.”

He forced his frustration down. If he’d been thinking straight, he would have known J.J. couldn’t stay while Toby went to the hospital. Their schedule was tight, and delaying one place meant upsetting many valuable customers they hoped would give them more work.

Was this the answer to his problem on how to protect Sarah from Ned’s machinations? He hadn’t guessed it’d be for him to have a sprained ankle and be as helpless as a boppli.

“I guess I don’t have another choice.” His voice sounded childish even to his ears. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I—”

“Never mind. We need to be out front for when the car gets here, so let’s go,” she said with something that sounded like disappointment.

Disappointment? With him?

If so, she would have to get used to that during the next eight weeks. He’d disappointed everyone in his life.

Including himself.

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