The Amish Christmas Cowboy

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.”