The More I See (10 page)

A knot fisted itself in Lyssa's stomach. "Actually, no. The arrangement your father made with the school was for ownership. It's not uncommon. It's simply a personal choice some people make. Not all handlers own their guide dogs."

Lyssa couldn't quite bring herself to talk about the possibility of what Cody would choose to do with Otis if he did get his eyesight back. It was never easy giving up a friend you've come to love. She knew that firsthand. She did it with her guide dogs all the time.

Instead, she said, "Otis is one of my best dogs."

"But they're all special."

She laughed at the slight drip of sarcasm in his tone.

"Yes, they are. But Otis...well, you're not supposed to have favorites, but he has a special place in my heart."

They walked along the brick path that wound around the side of the house leading to the arena. Cody had avoided this route every day since they'd started training. She didn't know why he'd chosen to proceed today.

"Remember the commands I told you about," she instructed. "In your head, think about where you want to go."

"I thought Otis was supposed to do all the thinking. Know whether or not to proceed."

"He's trained to assess the situation you're in, make sure he leaves enough clearance for you to get by, and find the easiest route for you to travel. He'll make sure you don't walk into a hole or cross the street in front of a car. But you're a team. You can't just rely on him to do the work. You need to use your ears and common sense to let him know where you want to go."

Otis halted on his own and Cody tried to tug him forward, but he wouldn't budge.

"Why did he stop?"

"There's a curb. It's deep enough that you'll stumble over it. He's warning you of it and waiting for your command before proceeding. Inch forward until you feel the edge and give him the command."

"So you're telling me that if we were in downtown Fort Worth and I tried to cross a road in oncoming traffic, he wouldn't let me?"

"That's right. He's trained to disobey a command from his handler if proceeding presents a danger to him. He can't read crossing signs or see lights change color because dogs don't see that way. But he can see oncoming traffic. Remember, you're a team. You need to work together to assess all situations."

"Any elevator shafts nearby?"

"Very funny," Lyssa said wryly.

"What about a black cat?"

"Are you superstitious?"

He chuckled. "Seriously. Out here at the ranch there could be any number of animals running around. How do I know he's not going to lead me on a wild goose chase of his own liking?"

"He's trained to ignore all distractions, even animals, and become completely in tune with you. The longer he's here, the more used to it he'll be."

"And he can go anywhere?"

"Absolutely. Legally Otis is allowed in any public place that you'd be allowed. However, there may be times when you might choose to keep him home. However trained, he is a dog and there may be situations you feel may pose a danger to him or may be too distracting to him. But if you do take him with you and someone gives you trouble, you should report it."

For the first time in days, Cody had led her close enough to the arena to give him a gentle nudge in the direction that seemed to cause him the greatest fear. The door was open and she could hear people working inside. She took it as a sign that he was ready.

"Show me the arena," Lyssa said, bracing herself for a challenge, and trying to think of a valid argument to counter it.

He seemed to be considering it, his face turned in the direction the sound was coming from.

"I don't want to get in Beau's way," Cody answered.

Lyssa knew Beau would feel Cody's presence to be anything but an intrusion. From the few private conversations they'd shared about Cody, she knew it would be more of a relief than anything.

For all the bickering the two brothers did, Lyssa knew that deep concern and love filtered through. Even on the odd occasions she'd been present when Beau asked Cody advice about one of his horses, Cody's answer was always the same: he couldn't help. It had to stop somewhere.

"Sounds to me like a lame excuse."

"Think what you want."

"I wouldn't mind seeing what all this talk about cutting horses is really all about."

"You just said there are times I might choose not to take Otis into a particular place. I don't want to take him there."

She smirked. "I was talking about someplace really distracting, like a rock concert where he might have trouble hearing you or people might mistakenly step on his paws. You live on a ranch. Otis has to get accustomed to being around other animals. This is probably a good way to introduce him without having him get overwhelmed."

Cody's head dipped for a second, thinking. And then he nodded. "I'd prefer not to stay long."

Sweet victory! Smiling, Lyssa said, "That's fair enough."

They entered the arena just as Beau eased one of the quarter horses he was training into the herd of cattle. He simply blended among them, pulling them apart as the horse moved until the one cow was chosen. Dusty Dan went head to head with the cow, matching every turn until he was pulled far away from the herd.

Beau had explained at lunch that cutting was a part of ranching and had been for

hundreds of years. A good cowboy needed an expert cutting horse to sort through the cattle and separate the ones that needed vaccines or ones being sold at market. During the middle of the century it had become a sport for those cowboys with expert horses who wanted to compete and show off their skills.

Lyssa couldn't fathom how Beau managed to stay on the horse so effortlessly. With each lightning-quick stop, she held her breath, thinking he'd fly over the horse's head. But he held on, and in the blink of an eye, horse and cow changed directions until it seemed the cow was cornered, and just stopped.

Mesmerized, Lyssa hadn't realized her jaw had fallen open until the flying dust settled on her lips and in her mouth. She smacked her lips to rid herself of the taste.

"Glad you made it out here. I could use you this weekend in Fort Worth," Beau said.

Cody tried not to wince. Beau was riding Sassy this weekend, as was right. How else would she get exposure?

"I'm busy."

"It won't take the whole weekend."

"I need to train with Otis."

"Actually, going to Fort Worth would be perfect," Lyssa said, chiming in. "By the weekend the two of you will be settled with each other enough around the ranch and it'll be time to try interacting in public."

"The show is at the Coliseum. It'll be too distracting with all those horses and cows around," Cody argued.

"If he's too distracted by the goings-on at the show, then you'll know it may not be a good idea to take him again. But you're never going to know until you try. You can't shy away from what you do."

"I'm not ready."

"How do you know? Even I can see how you and Otis have taken to each other."

"I'm not talking about the dog." With a heavy sigh, Cody turned and took a few steps away.

* * *

Cody started to walk away, his intention simply to end the conversation that had his stomach turning in knots. His mistake, he quickly realized, was letting go of Otis' leash.

Abruptly, he stopped walking. He whistled once, but Otis remained seated where he was.

"Come here, Otis," he called. Otis was by his side in an instant. He gripped the dog's leash and relief flooded him.

It was all a roller coaster ride, Cody thought. All his emotions were jumbled up, flying high one moment, and plummeting the next. He hated it.

For a brief moment, fear had clutched him. He'd walked away from Otis and into

oblivion. At least, that was the way it always felt when he had no bearing on where he was.

But then he called for the dog and Otis was there, safe and sure by his left leg, waiting to take Cody's command. And the roller coaster leveled out once again.

He could walk away. That easily. As long as Otis was by his side. It was an incredible comfort. Freeing in a way he hadn't felt freedom in months. He didn't have to worry about disappointment or expectations. Dogs weren't like that. They loved unconditionally in a way people didn't.

He could just walk away.

And so he did walk away. And no one followed him. No one hovered around him,

waiting to take his arm and move him in the right direction. God, this was the first real peace he'd felt in months.

That was completely true, he decided as he made his way out of the arena. When he was with Lyssa, things were different, comforting. Nothing had changed except for the fact that inside, he felt more like the man he used to be instead of the man he'd hated becoming. But now, even without her, he felt himself coming back.

Lyssa was right. No, he'd never get his life as he knew it back. Not unless this next corneal transplant was a success. And he was banking heavy on it being a success. But he could do something, anything, again with his life. He just had to figure out what he wanted to do that would make him feel as good as working with his cutting horses.

Right now, all he wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

# # #

It hadn't taken but a minute for Cody to decide he was being an idiot and to turn around.

He wouldn't let stubbornness get to him this time, not after coming this far.

"Halt, Otis," he said, stopping on the gravel path. He listened for footsteps, for that adorable little growl Lyssa made whenever he did something that ticked her off.

But there was nothing. No one was following him. There were no footsteps on the ground chasing him to make sure he didn't collide with something dangerous he couldn't see.

"Let's go back, Otis." The dog didn't move. "About, Otis."

Otis turned them both around and they proceeded back to the arena. When he walked into the building, he heard Beau and Lyssa talking. Their voices were low, as if they meant to keep their conversation from him, which annoyed him to no end. But he knew that had to be the case.

"What time?" he ground out.

He could hear the surprise in Lyssa's voice. "You came back?"

"Obviously," Cody said, his irritation flaring.

So be it. He wasn't going to pretend he liked their quiet whispers. He was blind, but his hearing was just fine. More than fine, in fact. He could ignore their whispers of worry or he could stand like a man and let them know he was done with it.

It felt real good to stand.

"What time?" he ground out again.

"We need to leave at dawn if we're going to make it to Fort Worth with time to spare."

Cody nodded. It didn't really matter what time or when they were leaving. Or even how long they were staying. It wasn't as if there was a list of chores he had to do before leaving.

Those had been divided up and given to hands. Beau had been given his most prided chore.

Although, working with his horses had never been a chore to Cody.

He began to walk away and then turned back. "You will be coming with us, Lyssa, won't you?"

"Of course," she said.

"Good."

"We can take my truck," Beau said.

Cody clamped down the sudden irritation running under the surface of his skin, deciding it was irrational. Riding together with Beau would give Cody a chance to get up to speed on what had been happening since he'd been away from the sport.

"That sounds like a good plan."

He headed back to the house with Otis by his left side, still annoyed that his big brother just killed any chance of him getting Lyssa alone this weekend.

Damn big brothers.

* * *

Lyssa didn't want to question the reasons for Cody's about-face. She just decided that victory was sweet and the biggest victory of all would be Cody's in the end. She thanked Beau and then headed out of the arena in search of Cody.

He'd retreated quickly, not bothering to ask if she wanted to come with him. Instead of feeling slighted, she chose to take that as a good sign that Cody was finally seeing his independence again.

She caught up with them as they were climbing the front porch steps.

"I was a little nervous about picking a dog for you without having met you first. But after watching you work together these past few days I see that Otis was the perfect choice for you,"

she said in admiration.

Otis was a tall dog and matched perfectly with Cody's height and arm extension. He responded well to the deep timbre of Cody's voice. Otis' first handler had been elderly. They'd been together for two years before his handler suffered a fatal stroke. Otis had stayed by his side for two days until he was found.

When Otis was brought back to the school, he appeared to be depressed, his spirit broken in a way that tore at Lyssa's heart. She'd recognized that same torn spirit in Cody when she'd first arrived. Otis was a proud dog and seeing him work with Cody was enough to convince Lyssa that choosing Otis for Cody had been the right move.

They walked through the door and Cody immediately put his right arm out to feel his way through the room.

"After a while, you'll become more comfortable with Otis walking through the room and giving you enough clearance so you won't bump into anything. You won't feel the need to extend your hand for guidance."

"Something smells good. It must be time for dinner. Or close to it."

Lyssa had ignored the rumble of her own stomach because training had been going so well. But now that the aroma of good food assaulted her, her hunger pangs began to grow stronger.

"I understand the need to take Otis with me pretty much everywhere I go. But what about on a date?"

She was thrown by his question, although she couldn't figure out why. It was a perfectly normal question that she'd answered hundreds of times for her students.

"Of course, if that's what you want. Again, it's your choice."

"You mean he won't climb up on the sofa and snuggle up between me and my date?"

Lyssa's insides suddenly burned. Since that first day in the field, when she'd thought Cody was about to kiss her, they'd danced around something, but always stopped short of any confession. Getting involved with a student in any way other than professionally wouldn't be right. But hearing Cody talking about dating turned her an ugly shade of green. Instead of letting the sudden pang of jealousy get the best of her, she gave the standard answer.