Colorado Dawn (9 page)

A protest made it as far as his teeth. He didn’t need a tutor. Accepting a tutor meant accepting his blindness. Though the rational part of him knew his blindness was permanent, an unreasoning, fearful part of his heart held on to a shred of hope that this hadn’t really happened, that he would wake up one morning and it would all be a bad night that evaporated into a glorious dawn. He would see colors and movement, light and life, and not be shackled in darkness.

“David? Did you hear me?” She knelt before him and placed her hands on his knees.

The warmth of her palms through his pants legs seared him, reminding him of the closeness they had once shared. He shifted and shook his head. “You had no right to interfere this way. A tutor won’t change anything. I refuse to have a stranger in the house staring at me and pitying me.”

A giggle escaped her lips, making her sound very young. “David, I can guarantee Rex Collison will not stare. He’s blind, too.”

His thoughts tumbled like water through a sluice. Accepting yet more help, acknowledging again his need for aid, his inability to do the things he used to do. Every moment since he realized he was blind seemed to be proving he was no longer a man.

After an eternity of silence she ventured, “Will you meet Mr. Collison? He’s waiting in the parlor. I know he can make things better for you.”

“Do you think this will change anything? There is no way you can make this ‘all better.’ A sightless tutor. A true case of the blind leading the blind. Why can’t you leave it alone?” Why couldn’t she grasp the fact that his blindness meant the death of her hopes for their future as well? The man she thought to marry, the strong, protecting, professional man she’d fallen in love with didn’t exist anymore. That man had died in the bottom of a mine.

She removed her hands, and he derided himself for the feeling of loss her action brought. “David, you have nothing to lose. Just as being blind won’t go away, neither will I go away. I won’t stop trying to help you. Where is your faith? Where is your courage?”

“When you’ve walked a mile in my darkness, Karen, perhaps you will have the right to speak to me in such a manner. You know nothing of what it is like to be blind.”

“No, I don’t know, but Rex does. I should think you’d be willing to at least speak with him.”

He could picture her, crossing her arms, her blue eyes, fringed with dark lashes, studying him. The late afternoon sun would caress her hair and a light flush would ride her cheekbones. His feelings for her, carefully leashed, prodded him to acquiesce. “Very well, I will meet him, since nothing else will please you. But remember this…I never asked for a tutor. If I so choose, I’ll have him out of here before dinner.”

She took his arm. “I think you’ll like him. He’s nearly your age, I would think, and very smart.”

“You don’t have to sell him to me. I reserve the right to make my own judgment.” They navigated the staircase, and David took pains to count the number of steps. Would the shame and regret of his limitations ever dull? His heart rate picked up when they entered the parlor. Hard enough to greet friends and family. Strangers were another ordeal altogether.

“David, this is Rex Collison. Rex, I’m sorry we kept you waiting. I hope Mrs. Webber made you comfortable.”

She led David across the room in the area of the fireplace. He could detect the smell of the fire and, when he moved his face to the left, the smell of coffee. “Pleased to meet you.”

Something bumped his arm, and he instinctively grasped Collison’s hand and shook it.

“I’ll leave you to your discussion.” Karen squeezed his elbow. “If you’ll take a seat, I’ll pour some coffee for you and go consult Mrs. Webber about dinner. I hope you’ll stay, Rex.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

Her footsteps retreated, leaving them alone.

“Your wife tells me your blindness is recent.”

David lifted his cup to his lips and breathed in the warm aroma. “That’s right. About five weeks now.”

“I hope you took the news better than I did when it happened to me.” Rueful amusement tinged Collison’s voice. “I was a trial to my family for half a year or more.”

David said nothing. Trial he might’ve been the last month or so, but he wouldn’t discuss it with a stranger.

Rex tried again. “I understand you’re an engineer.”

“Was. I
was
. I’m nothing now.”

“On the contrary. You’re still an engineer with several years of experience to call upon. There is no reason, with some adaptation to your routine and with a little help from an assistant, why you should cease your work. Your wife told me you have a very capable assistant to call upon.”

David set his cup down with more force than he intended, splashing hot liquid onto his hand. “Excuse me, Mr. Collison, but do you have any experience working in a mine? An engineer has to be able to read, to write, to calculate loads, design square sets, gauge the quality of the stope. I cannot work without my eyes.”

“In time, you will be able to read Braille and to write in Braille and in script. Your brain wasn’t affected by the explosion, only your eyesight. With a competent assistant, your career need not be halted.”

For one moment he allowed himself to hope, to believe things might return to the way they had been, but the foolishness of those thoughts crashed down on him. Reality was darkness. Reality was the need to rely on others to help him because he couldn’t help himself. Reality was that even before the accident he’d been a bad engineer. Otherwise, the mine never would’ve caved in. Shame licked through him like greedy tongues of fire, incinerating hope and devouring possibilities.

“My career is dead, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He rested against the antimacassar, wishing he could stop the jangling in his head. Everything he had once identified himself as had been stripped from him, leaving him nothing to hold on to. Had he somehow angered God and earned this judgment? Did God even know or care?

“You won’t know what you can do until you try. Think of how the children at the school will admire you and seek to be like you when you prove that even without your sight you are a successful engineer. This will show them there is nothing they might not accomplish if they just try.” Collison’s chair creaked, as if leaning forward in his zeal to convince David. “You have advantages that many sightless persons do not have. You have the love and support of your family, especially your wife, and you have ample resources at your command. You have a career waiting for you if you have the courage to pick it up again.”

David gripped the arms of his chair so hard his hands shook. “I never asked to be a role model.”

“You may think I don’t understand what you’re going through, but I do. Before I became a teacher for the blind, I had just graduated from college. The ink wasn’t even dry on my diploma when I fell ill. When the doctors told me I would never see again, I thought it meant saying good-bye to my dreams of teaching.” He chuckled. “I never did become the college history professor I wanted to be, but now, looking back, I wouldn’t exchange my students at the academy for any cap and gown. God took my dreams and, through a refining fire, made them into something that would glorify Him.”

Hot bile rose in David’s throat. How much better would it have been if God had seen fit to merely take his life instead of taking his sight? Refining fire. He swallowed, hard. “I think we’re finished here for the day.” He stalked out of the room and up the stairs, and only when he reached his room and closed the door did he realize he hadn’t counted the steps across the foyer or up the staircase.

Karen tipped her head back and blinked to stem the tears blurring her vision. She’d been silly to hang so much hope on the meeting between David and Rex. They had so much in common, and yet David hadn’t let Rex past the walls.

She took a firm grip on her emotions and entered the parlor. “Rex”—she sat opposite him—“I’m sorry the interview didn’t go well.”

He placed his cup on the table at his elbow. A patient smile played around his lips. “I thought it went very well.”

“He stormed out like his coattails were on fire. Didn’t you hear his door slam?” She smoothed her skirts, then crumpled them again by crunching her hands into the fabric.

“He’s dealing with a lot of emotions right now. Anger, bitterness, fear. Overwhelming fear.” Rex steepled his fingers under his chin.

“That breaks my heart. David has always been so confident, so sure of himself and his abilities. He had his life planned out, and up until now, his life has gone as he planned.”

“That probably makes the situation harder for him to swallow. He’s afraid he won’t be man enough to face his new circumstances.”

“He won’t even try, and I can’t seem to make him.”

Rex inclined his head. “My dear, I hope you’ll forgive the familiarity, but I fear you are as much the problem as the solution here.”

“What?”

“If I were in David’s shoes, I’d be scared stiff myself. According to your housekeeper, you are a strikingly beautiful woman. I’d venture to say you didn’t lack for suitors before David claimed you as his fiancée.”

Heat tingled in Karen’s cheeks, but she didn’t interrupt. She would need to speak to Mrs. Webber about chattering too much while serving guests their coffee.

“I can imagine David feels in his heart that he is no longer worthy of such a bride. You told me he tried to break the engagement and that only under pretext of a lawsuit did he go through with the ceremony. I suspect it was less the lawsuit than the fact that he couldn’t bear the thought of your walking out of his life that made him marry you. I would suspect he is terrified you will wake up one day and realize you’ve made a mistake, that you regret marrying him.”

“I would never.” She spoke through stiff lips and clenched teeth, her hands fisted in her lap. “I love David, blind or not, though he’s testing my patience to the limit.”

Rex laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. “I believe you. I’m just trying to help you understand things from David’s perspective. I think, in time, he’ll come to trust that your love for him hasn’t changed. It’s the time before that will be difficult. You’re going to need all your patience and wisdom to withstand the coming storm. I speak from experience, both as a man who was blinded as an adult and as a teacher who has encountered many a troubled student. Things are likely to get worse before they get better.”

Karen rubbed her temples. “I can’t imagine their getting worse. I barely know myself anymore. My feelings are all jumbled up. On the one hand I want to cry and comfort him and help him heal, and on the other I want to throw something and stomp my foot and scream at him for ruining what is supposed to be one of the best times of our lives. We’ve had no honeymoon, and the newlywed phase of our marriage has been less than cordial.” Her voice cracked. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she scrubbed it away, mortified to have broken down in front of a guest, a man she barely knew.

Rex reached out a searching hand and awkwardly patted her arm. “I’m sorry. I will do all I can to help both of you, but you’ll have to be patient. Nothing will change overnight. Much like he’s done with me, David hasn’t sent you away, so he must want you here. Cling to that hope and try not to brood. You’ll feel better if you stay busy.”

“What can I do?”

“There are several practical things we prescribe for all our students, and you can get started on those now—things like labeling his clothing and organizing his possessions. When I get back to the school, I’ll talk things over with our headmaster, Mr. Standish, and together we’ll come up with a plan.”

He rose and his ever-ready smile encouraged her. “Don’t worry. I’ve handled tough cases before. David didn’t expressly forbid me to return tomorrow, so I’ll be here in the morning. We’ll continue his first lessons here at the house, but eventually, I’d like him to come to the school. The students would benefit from meeting him when he’s gotten over the worst of things, and there are some resources there that would be helpful.”

K
aren snipped her thread and ran her thumb over the bumps. She rechecked the notes Rex had given her, making sure the small French knots were in the right positions to represent the colors. Something else to cross off her list.

Along with reorganizing his wardrobe and toiletries, she and Mrs. Webber had removed nearly half the furnishings from the parlor. Though current fashion leaned toward dozens of occasional tables, tightly packed chairs and settees, and bric-a-brac on every surface, Karen had to admit she liked the sparse look to the room now. David had said nothing of the changes, but he moved with more confidence now that he didn’t have to circumnavigate so many obstacles.

A Braille book sat on the desk across the parlor. David had yet to pick it up on his own, though he had allowed Rex to return every day this week for lessons. Karen rejoiced in this small success, but Rex’s prediction that changes would come slowly was proving all too depressingly true. At the moment the pair was in the dining room, where they had spent the majority of the last two days.

Mrs. Webber appeared in the doorway. “Ma’am, there’s a fellow here to see you, says he’s the butler.” A scowl marred the housekeeper’s normally sunny face. She stepped back and revealed Buckford standing in the foyer. “I didn’t know you’d hired a butler.”