Healing Trace (22 page)

"Good.
It's boring being seventeen. I can't wait until I'm eighteen and can do what I
want. I'll buy myself a big fancy house, and own a lot of horses. Maybe I'll
even give riding lessons or open an arena for people who can't board their own
horses." Katie rolled down the window and stuck her booted foot out the
window. "I'm tired of guys talking to me, and when they find out I'm
seventeen, they turn around and walk away. Like one year is going to make me so
mature and wise."

Joan
chewed her lip. Katie had gone away a young girl, and came back with big dreams
and a new grownup zest for living. She glanced at the heavy, black eyeliner and
mascara on Katie's face. It seemed like yesterday, she'd gone through the stage
of wishing she were older and thinking the sun only rose if she had a
boyfriend, now it was Katie's turn to learn.
If I only knew being older
wasn't all it was cracked up to be…

Arriving
at the apartment, Joan got Katie situated in the bedroom and then left the room
to get the pizza out of the oven, and put the pop on the table. Since leaving
the Lakota ranch, her appetite had fled but she was so happy to have Katie
back, she found herself starving and couldn't wait to eat.

"Where
are you going to be working?" Katie entered the room, sat down at the
table, and picked a piece of pepperoni off her slice and popped it in her
mouth.

"The
Lakota reservation. A new non-profit health and wellness clinic is starting
there, and I'll be in charge of running it. I'm excited. It'll be challenging,
but most of all I can put my education to good use. For a while there, I was
feeling as if I had sent you away for no reason. I couldn't find a job
anywhere, and was afraid we'd have to move out of Durham."

"I
knew you could do it." Katie popped the tab on her soda. "The
reservation is where Tommy Carson lives…he's Jessie's boyfriend. I think you
might have met him when they came to our old house before the Homecoming dance
last year. Jessie said Tommy goes to school on the reservation, and they have
their own rules and government. She makes it sound like it's a different
country."

Joan
finished chewing, swallowed, and wiped her mouth off with a napkin.
"Jessie's right. They do have different laws. Anyone who visits Lakota
land has to follow the rules set by the council. The same way they have to
follow the rules our government makes and Dad helped enforce. I don't believe
they're much different, though."

"Can
I go sometime and see where you'll be working?" Katie asked.

Remembering
Savannah and Trace's hardships with living on the reservation, she hesitated.
"We'll see. Not right away, but maybe after I settle in and the newness of
the clinic wears off."

"Why
didn't you keep working at the ranch you mentioned? Didn't you like it
there?"

Joan
sat her piece of pizza down on her plate. "It was only for six weeks. I
nursed a man who had his leg broken by a wild horse. He's all healed, has his
cast off, and doesn't need my help anymore."

"Oh."
Katie paused with the pizza halfway to her mouth. "You look sad. Was it a
terrible job?"

How
did she explain that in the last six weeks she'd fallen in love with a man
who'd never love her, or let her love him? She swallowed the lump in her
throat, sipped her drink, and bought time to come up with an answer that her
sister would believe.

Their
age difference always kept their relationship more toward the parent-child
side, than the buddy-buddy sister pact that she would have had with someone
more her age, but Katie was growing up. She didn't want Katie to think she was
sad about her coming home.

"The
man, Trace, who I was taking care of…I fell in love with him, but in the end,
it didn't work out." Joan smiled sadly. "I'll be fine. I just need to
get back into the groove of working. I plan to throw myself into getting this
place in tip top shape for us."

"I'll
help." Katie leaned back in her chair. "That sucks though, about the
guy. Why didn't it work out?"

"It's
complicated." Joan sighed. "I guess he decided he wasn't ready for a
relationship."

Katie
wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like an ass."

"Katie!"
Joan stared at her sister. "He's not an…ass. If you knew him, you'd see
how wonderful he is. Between us, he's part of the group that is starting the
clinic at the reservation. He's caring, and he loves children. T-Trace is a
great guy."

"I
don't get it." Katie wiped her mouth. "You're great. He's great. Yet,
you broke up. I think adults make things more complicated than they are. That's
what happened to Melissa's parents. They decided they didn't love each other
anymore and got divorced last year. I don't believe it. Once you love someone
you don't stop loving them."

Joan
wondered if Katie was right. Maybe she'd go the rest of her life never loving
someone else. "You're growing up, Kate bait."

"Ugh."
Katie laughed. "I was hoping you'd forget about that name. I had no idea
Dad's worms he used for fishing were real. I thought they were gummy worms. I
really don't think something I did when I was four should ever be talked about
again."

Joan
laughed. It was good to have Katie home. She made life fun and new, without
forgetting about their past.

She
pushed herself away from the table and gathered the rest of the pizza to put in
the fridge for tomorrow. The night bittersweet, she wished that Katie could
have met Trace. He would have appreciated Katie's carefree spirit.

***

It's
time.

Two
weeks of throwing all of his energy into Thunderbolt's training and ignoring
every other part of his life, Trace sat on the top of the fence ready to ride.
He waited. Thunderbolt ran past him. He'd have to control the exact timing if
he was going to succeed. If he missed, he'd end up with another busted leg or
worse.

The
horse's breath whooshed out with each pass. Trace slowed his own breathing. One
more time around and he'd ride. He stood, balancing on his boot heels on the
second rung of the cold, steel fence. He spread his arms out.
Get ready,
set, g—.

A
rope came over his head and around his upper body, pinning his arms to his
side. He tottered on the fence, and finally hurled himself to the outside of
the round pen to keep from falling under Thunderbolt's hooves. His head snapped
up and he squinted from the cloud of dust rising up around him from the fall.
Brody!

"You
son of a bitch!" He scrambled to his feet, and dove at Brody.

In
one hard move, he tackled Brody and took him to the ground with him. Brody
locked his arms around Trace's neck, and held on. Trace rolled, trying to toss
Brody off him, wanting him to leave him alone and let him do what he wanted to
do. If he wanted to risk his life, that was his choice. He was tired of others
dictating to him and taking his control away.

"Go
ahead! If you want to hit me, do it. Show me how pissed off you are."
Brody grunted and rolled Trace's face in the dirt.

"You've
fucked up my life enough, and you call yourself my friend." Trace groaned
and heaved Brody off him.

Brody
jumped to his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing getting on
that horse? He's not ready. You know that. Riding him is suicide."

He
caught himself when his leg shot pain up into his thigh. "Who cares,"
he muttered.

Brody
stared at him. "I do."

"The
hell you do. If you cared, you wouldn't have hired Joan to work at the clinic.
She's too good to work with people like Savannah's father…my father."

Brody
kept his feet planted. "Your dad is dead. He's rotting away for what he's
done to you. He's gone, Trace. You don't have to worry about him anymore."

He
spit on the ground, heaving. "Get outta my sight before I kill you."

"Shit."
Brody shook his head. "You really think you'd hurt me?"

Trace
glared. Anger rolled off his body and he fisted his hands. His father's word's
poisoned his head.
You worthless piece of shit! I'd be better off if you
were dead. Fight like a man, you puss.

"Trace…"

"Stop."
He turned around and walked to the round pen.

He
hung his arms over the top rail, and dropped his chin to his chest. When Brody
stopped him, Trace had reacted without thinking. His body shook, not from his
temper, but fear. He didn't want to be like his father.

Chapter Twenty-Five

A
new modular building stood out from the rest of the homes and outbuildings on
the reservation. Across the street from the stables, the construction had
already started on the additional rooms, and soon there would be distinct areas
for group counseling sessions, for individual evaluation, and personal
healthcare. Joan shaded her eyes with her hand and smiled. Off to the side
there would be a safe house where those who needed a bed and rest could stay.

"It's
more beautiful than I imagined." Joan hugged Devon, and then made her way
to Brody, giving each one a big squeeze. "I can't believe how fast
everything happened in a month. When you make up your mind, there's no stopping
you."

"It's
not done yet. It'll be a couple more months until the additions are done, but
next week you can open the doors and educate everyone on what will be offered
at the clinic." Devon put on a hardhat. "I better go talk to the
engineer. He's waiting for an okay on changing the width on the south wall."

"I've
already contacted the resident physicians at two different hospitals, and have
received four call backs of interest, and it's still early. There could be many
more." She couldn't hide her grin. She was proud of what she'd
accomplished on her own too. "It seems like everything is falling in
place."

"What
are you going to name the clinic, Joan?" Brody asked.

Joan
drew back. "Me?"

"We
thought you'd like to do the honors." Brody spit out the piece of grass he
was chewing on. "If we hadn't of met you, and seen how well you took care
of Trace, we wouldn't have thought to do something like this for our people.
The clinic is here, because of you."

She
shook her head. "I would have gotten a job eventually. You didn't have
to—"

"Nonsense.
This has nothing to do with giving you a job as a favor or not, so stop
thinking that way. We'd spent many days and nights over the years wondering
what we could do to make life better for others, and you helped us figure it
out so it could happen. The job offer was a blessing for us." Brody stared
at her. "It means a lot to every single one of us."

She
gazed around her. Surrounded by the beautiful landscape, the sense of
community, and hope for the future, she choked up. The clinic aimed toward
helping adults beat their alcohol and drug addictions, to bring counseling to
the families, but the clinic represented so much more.

She
thought of Savannah, being able to shower and sleep in a warm, clean bed and
having a nightlight on when the dark became too scary. The families who'd find
support and learn a beneficial way of working through their frustrations in a
new way would get a brighter outlook on life. Most of all, people would heal
from the inside out and grow up healthy, strong, and loved. There was only one
thing the clinic could be called.

"Hope
Clinic." She brushed a tear off her cheek and smiled at them. "Hope
for the children, so they can leave their nightmares behind."

Brody
put his arm around Joan. He nodded and cleared his throat. She hugged his waist.
Hope for Trace, if it wasn't too late.

***

Inside
the office of the stables, Trace stood in front of the dirty window gazing
across the road to the clinic. His chest tightened. A pain so real, he wondered
if he'd be able to walk outside and get in the truck.

He'd
purposely arrived at the barn in the late afternoon, when the reservation was
starting to settle down and the workday was over. He'd come into the office to
file the records from his last trip to the county livestock association knowing
there was no chance of running into Joan.

He
was wrong.

After
checking out the stock and recording the brands, he'd hid out in the office
waiting for her to leave. He never expected Devon and Brody to show up too.

Things
were starting to become normal again.

He
rose early every morning, worked with the horses, put Thunderbolt through his
paces, while biding his time to attempt another ride. After the sun went down,
he came inside and went straight to his wing of the house. His life was
predictable and steady. Exactly how he wanted it.

Joan
turned toward the stables as Devon walked off. His heart raced.

Her
sunshine yellow blouse, along with her red hair, had her standing out from the
crowd. He would have spotted her anywhere. No matter where he was, the ranch,
the reservation, his bedroom, he saw her in the simplest things. The sun, the
moon, the flowers.