Chapter 8: Sarah

Time had slowed to a crawl once they transferred me to the rehab center. It wasn't like the hospital where people had come to visit and there were always nurses or doctors in an out of my room. The afternoons passed by hot and lazy because just like at home, the air conditioners couldn't keep up with the blazing summer heat.

I kept my single window at the facility open even if all it did was invite in the warm, sluggish breeze and humidity. But it brought the smells of home with it-cattle, dirt, fresh grass, all the things I missed. I wanted to be back out in the thick of it or as much as I ever was. I might not have been in the fields working the head, but I missed cooking for the hands, doing the books, keeping track of the business side of the ranch. Even the trivial things like community events were passing me by as I stared at four walls and endured hours of painful therapy and isolation. I'd give anything for my life to return to normal.

The reality of that never being a possibility stared me in the face, and it was a cold, hard fact I needed to address. My life would never be normal again; nothing about it would. All I could do was stare out the open window at the blue Texas sky and wish I were underneath it. Then the idea of that warmth hitting my skin while the backs of my thighs stuck to the seat of a wheelchair hit me full force. It wasn't the part about my life not being normal that bothered me; it was the never walking again that I couldn't bear.

Daddy, the doctors, the nurses-they'd all whispered and talked in hushed voices just outside my room. None of them believed I'd come out of this mobile. They just hadn't dared to say it to my face. They'd expressed their sympathy to Daddy but not once to me. And when I'd asked-countless times-I'd been patronized with a pat on the arm or shoulder and told no one knew what my body was capable of doing.

I couldn't conceive of a meaningful life in a ranching community where I couldn't be of service. Not walking in a ranch town meant not working, and that didn't leave much of an optimistic outlook. Men in Mason Belle married women who were valuable to their businesses, and their businesses were their land. I'd always prided myself on being an asset to Daddy and hoped that someday a man would see that and find worth in it. But being bedridden or wheelchair-bound would only make me a burden to a man who already had acres depending on him. And a girl without a husband in Mason Belle was as useless as a slaughterhouse without cattle.

Thinking about all of it was overwhelming, so I did the best I could to keep my thoughts to myself, to cry when I was alone, and pretend like I was unaffected by the hidden prognosis. Daddy didn't need to know where I was mentally, no one did. The last thing he needed was for me to fall apart, and it would kill him to think I was so unhappy. I should be grateful to be alive, but the truth was that I wasn't. Even Daddy had a hard time disguising his disappointment when he'd come to visit and find out that my physical therapy had been no more productive today than yesterday. I saw his unspoken pain at the scars the plastic surgeons hadn't been able to remove and my inability to stand from my wheelchair.

He couldn't take care of me for the rest of his life. Ever since Mama left, it had been my job to take care of him. That's what daughters do when their fathers are older and single. They make sure they eat, that they have coffee, that the bills are paid and the house is clean. I was failing at such basic tasks, more and more every day. I had to find something. A solution. This wasn't sustainable.

It also hadn't escaped my attention that I hadn't seen my sister once. I wanted to believe it was because she was filling in for me at home, but I doubted that very seriously since Daddy hadn't once mentioned it. In fact, he hadn't brought up her name at all. Part of me wondered why, but a greater part of me didn't care to hear the answer. Any time I'd tried to broach the subject of my little sister, Daddy had avoided the topic or changed it altogether. Once or twice he'd muttered a bitter reply that I hadn't been brave enough to challenge, but what it boiled down to was she wasn't here. And he never insinuated she would be-not now or later. Daddy didn't offer to find her or bring her by. And now that I thought about it, he typically ended up leaving shortly after her name was mentioned. He'd tell me not to worry and get some rest. I heard that ten times a day if I heard it once.

All the rest in the world wasn't going to fix my back or make me walk again or erase the visual reminders of all I'd been through. And it certainly wouldn't repair my relationship with my sister, which, I had a sinking feeling, had been irreparably damaged. Whatever little had remained between us had gotten flipped by the semi and shattered like the glass in the car. I'd do anything to remedy it if I could.

But I didn't know why Miranda was avoiding me in the first place. Maybe she felt the same guilt I did over that day, or maybe she blamed me for how it changed her life after. She'd always been Daddy's little girl, and all of his attention now seemed focused on me. I didn't even want to consider the financial burden this put on our family-maybe she resented me for that. It was nothing more than a guessing game I couldn't win since Miranda wasn't around and Daddy refused to talk about her.

There was a tap at the door. "Hey, sweetheart. What's got you so deep in thought?" Daddy came into the room with an easy grin on his face, carrying a bag of food that smelled delicious.

That was one nice thing about the rehab center; they didn't care about food being brought in; whereas, the hospital insisted patients ate the food they served...gross.

In his other hand, he held a beer bottle with a few sprigs of daisies and marigolds coming out the top. He'd likely cut them from the gate at the front of the property. I hoped someone was taking care of my flowers, or they'd be a lost cause when I finally got to them. I couldn't help but chuckle at his choice of containers, but that was Daddy.

"Thank you." The reminder of home was perfect. "They're beautiful. Is Miranda helping to keep up with them?"

He set the bag and the bottle onto the table tray that pivoted across my lap. "You're welcome." And he promptly evaded my question.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?" He continued to fiddle with moving the tray so I could reach the food, and then he found a seat in the corner.

"What's going on with Randi?" It was time we faced this head-on. I wasn't going to let him off the hook.

I searched his face for any signs of what he might be hiding, but his rugged features gave away nothing. He just held my gaze, gentle around the corners of his watery grey eyes.

"Sarah." He dropped his elbows to his knees and his head into his hands. "We need to talk about your sister."

My heart stopped. The last time I'd seen that haunted look in my father's eyes-the one I'd caught just before he'd hidden his face-was the day he had told me Mama wasn't coming back. Ever. And to this day, I'd never seen or heard from her again.

I nodded, terrified of what he had to say. "Is she okay?" I almost couldn't bring myself to formulate the words. They had stuck to my tongue like peanut butter, and I'd nearly choked when they finally came out. I searched his face, hoping that if there were any bad news, a single twitch might betray it early.

Daddy didn't pick up his head. He didn't meet me eye for eye. "She left, sweetheart."

"What do you mean she left?" I bellowed so loudly I was certain the patients in the rooms on either side of me not only heard my shout but likely felt it. "How could she just leave?"

He finally met my stare, but I was so livid and full of disbelief that I didn't let him speak before I continued my tirade.

"So once again, Randi makes a huge mess and just waltzes away from it without a care in the world? Is that how things work?" I winced when I slammed my hands down on the mattress, jarring my still sore fingers. "That girl is so irresponsible. A minute in the pressure cooker and responsibility kicks her tail so hard she runs out of town. And what about Austin? Did he go, too?"

Sadness clung to my father's expression, but he didn't say a word. He just shook his head.

"Unbelievable. Only Miranda Adams would have the balls to think she can just up and leave to make it on her own, without so much as a goodbye. Poor Austin. I bet he's heartbroken."

Daddy's knee bounced in the corner, and I knew he was upset. They were close, always had been. Regardless of how angry I was at Randi, I couldn't imagine the strain it put on Daddy. The second woman in his life walked away from him, right after the only other had almost died.

I shook my head and blew out a heavy breath. "She's selfish, Daddy. But don't worry, she can't make it on her own. She barely even has a high school diploma, and we both know she won't do manual labor." I half chuckled at the thought of my sister trying to find a job and a place to live. It was laughable, but I was too ticked off to give it any real consideration. "I bet she's back in a week.

I nodded at my own suggestion of Randi's reality. I could concede to that, make that my truth. Still, it hurt...a lot. Maybe I was the problem. I'd like to think my little sister had grown a conscience the day of the accident and she was just so overcome by guilt that she had to get out. Miranda had never been good at facing consequences, only living in the moment. And whether that was a blessing or a fault, it didn't matter. My gut twisted with guilt.

I had driven my sister away. I searched Daddy's face to see if he blamed me, too. I couldn't see anything past the morose expression that pulled his mouth into a forlorn frown.

"It was my fault, wasn't it?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. I needed to know if this, my being here, was what had caused her to run.

"Oh, no." He sat up and ran his hand through his hair, and it wasn't until that moment that I realized how old my father had gotten. "It's not your fault, Sarah. Your sister..." He stopped to consider something. "She was always going to go her own way. We both knew that."

We did. I'd just never considered that her way would be out of town and alone. No part of me ever believed she'd do anything without Austin. They were inseparable and had been since they were kids. They were more than just high school sweethearts; they were best friends, the epitome of soulmates. They'd both be lost without the other.

Before I could ask about Austin, Daddy stood and came toward me. He pushed my hair back from my face and leaned down to kiss my forehead. "I'm going to get out of here. Get some rest, sweetheart."

And just like that, the subject had once again been closed.