The Color of Courage

When the area had been cleared, Brian gave up his position to a color guard member and rose awkwardly to his feet. He leaned heavily on his cane until he was sure he could take a step without falling on his face. He then moved to check out the horse’s leg. There was already serious swelling below the delicate ankle joint. It didn’t look good.

Several of the football officials in black-and-white striped shirts approached the group. One of them asked, “How soon can you get him off the field? We have a game to play.”

“Your game will have to wait.” Brian didn’t bother to hide his ire.

The man Lindsey had called Shane remained crouched beside Dakota, keeping him still with a hand on the horse’s neck. He ignored the officials completely. “Should we let him try to get up?”

Brian shook his head. “Not with the way that leg is swelling. We don’t want him to do more damage. Let me get a splint on it first. My truck is parked outside the gate next to your trailers. It’s white with College of Veterinary Medicine in purple lettering on the side. I’ve got first-aid equipment in there.”

“Private Gillis will get what you need if you’ll give him your keys.”

One of the soldiers stepped forward and held out his hand. After giving him a detailed list of what he wanted and where it was located, Brian waited impatiently for the Private’s return. It seemed to take forever, but in reality only a few minutes had passed when the breathless soldier raced back and handed Brian his kit and the supplies he had requested.

With the help of the other color guard members, Brian soon had the leg encased in a cotton wool wrap. He applied a lightweight but sturdy aluminum splint and secured it with Velcro straps.

“All right, let him try and get up, but if he doesn’t make it on the first attempt, we’ll need to get a lift in here.”

“We’ll get one, but I sure hope we don’t need it. Do you think he has a fracture?”

“I do, but I can’t say for sure until we get him to the clinic and X-ray the leg.”

With a gentle tug on the reins and some quiet words of encouragement, Shane urged Dakota to stand. After a brief hesitation, the horse lurched awkwardly to his feet. The crowd in the stands broke into loud cheering and applause. Brian looked up in surprise. He had forgotten he had several thousand onlookers watching his every move. No doubt some of his students were in attendance. Perhaps he’d present a pop quiz on splint application on Monday to check if they had been paying attention.

“If you can get your trailer in here, I think he can be loaded. The ride to the clinic isn’t far. You’ll need to wedge him in securely. I don’t want him moving around at all.”

“Thanks, Doc. It is doctor, isn’t it? I’m Corporal Shane Ross.” He held out his hand.

Brian took it in a firm grip. “Yes, I’m Dr. Brian Cutter, Professor of Equine Surgery for the College of Veterinary Medicine here at K-State.”

“Then it sounds like Dakota will be in good hands. I sure hope this isn’t a serious injury. The horse belonged to Lindsey’s brother. She’ll never forgive herself if he has to be put down.”

Lindsey endured her examination at the base hospital in stoic silence, answering between clenched lips only the questions posed to her. The pain she could deal with, but the fact that her arm hung useless against her side had her truly frightened. She couldn’t even move her fingers—they had no feeling at all. Thoughts of Danny’s paralysis crowded in her head. She fought down her rising panic as she addressed the physician attending her. “Sir, why can’t I move my hand?”

The gray-haired doctor sat on a stool beside her narrow bed. “Your humerus is fractured, that’s the bone in your upper arm. I’m going to splint it for now and send you to see an orthopedist. This is a nasty break.”

Like she needed anyone to tell her that. “I still don’t understand why I can’t move my fingers.”

“The nerve that controls hand movement runs in a grove along the bone of the upper arm. When a break occurs the nerve is often damaged. You should recover full use of your hand in a few months.”

“Months?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You’ll be on restricted duty until then. I’m giving you some pain medication. Take it regularly, don’t try to tough it out. I’ll write some instructions on icing the arm and have the nurse make an appointment with the specialist. Do you have any questions?”

“How soon can I ride?”

“Not for at least eight weeks, maybe longer depending on the nerve damage.”

She turned her face away, not wanting him to see the distress she knew was written there. The Inauguration was only ten weeks away. Did this mean there wouldn’t be a trip to Washington, D.C., for her?

No, she wouldn’t accept that. She wouldn’t let her chance to honor Danny and all he had stood for pass by without a fight. Besides, even if she couldn’t ride, Dakota could make the trip. Danny could still watch him striding down Pennsylvania Avenue. Every recent phone conversation with her sister-in-law had been filled with stories of Danny’s determination to attend the parade in person.

“You won’t be able to drive,” the doctor said gently. “Do you have someone who can get you home?”

She nodded. Captain Watson was waiting for her. Exactly how she was going to get back and forth from her off-base apartment to her duty station until she could drive was a worry she’d put aside until later.

After they applied the splint and sling and gave her some pain medication, she managed to walk out of the room under her own somewhat shaky power. She found Captain Watson perched on the edge of a chair in the waiting area. He looked nervous and ill at ease. Her heart sank.

Bracing herself to hear the worst, she asked, “How’s Dakota?”

Captain Watson sprang to his feet at the sound of her voice. “I haven’t heard. How are you?”

She gave a rueful glance at her big blue sling. “My arm is broken. The doctor said I’ll be on restricted duty for at least eight weeks, but it may be longer than that before I regain the use of my hand.”

“If you’re released, I’ll drive you home.”

“I need to find out how Dakota is.”

“Shane and Lee are with him. As soon as they know something, they’ll call. You are going straight home and that’s an order.”

“With all due respect, sir, I need to be with him. Please?” For a moment, she thought he was going to refuse, then his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“All right. They took him to the veterinary clinic at K-State. I’ll take you, but only because I want to see how he is doing myself.”

“Thanks. I just need to get these prescriptions filled and then I’m ready.”

Half an hour later, they pulled up to the large, white stone buildings on the outskirts of the college campus that comprised the veterinary teaching hospital. Signs at the entrance to the driveway directed them to the Large Animal Clinic at the back of the building. Lindsey’s pain pills were making her woozy, but she tried to hide it. She suspected that the Captain would drive her straight home if she showed any sign of weakness. Inside the building, they found the waiting area. The long, narrow room had panels of fluorescent lights across the ceiling that seemed to glare back painfully into her eyes from the shiny, beige linoleum floor.

The far end of the room was taken up by a wide reception desk where a pretty, young blond woman was talking on the phone. An American flag stood proudly displayed near the front of the desk. Lee and Shane were seated on the one of several mauve utilitarian chairs with bare wooden arms that lined the walls. They both rose and saluted when they caught sight of their captain. They were all still dressed in their exhibition uniforms and they were gathering odd looks from the staff and clients waiting with them.

Captain Watson returned the salute. “Any word yet?”

“No, sir. The doc hasn’t been out to talk to us.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Lindsey settled gingerly on the couch but still took a quick, indrawn hiss as pain shot through her arm and shoulder. For a second, the room spun wildly and she grabbed hold of Shane’s arm.

“Easy, kid. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“The pain medicine they gave me is making me light-headed, that’s all.”

When the room stopped spinning, she looked up to see the vet from the stadium crossing the room toward them. His thick blond hair was still mussed, but he had traded his sport jacket for a white lab coat.

He stopped in front of the group, but his gaze rested on her. Frowning, he said, “I’m surprised to see you here. How’s your arm?”

The unrelenting, throbbing pain was almost unbearable. “It’s broken,” she snapped. “I want to hear about my horse.”

Shane laid a hand on her good shoulder. “Lindsey, this is Dr. Brian Cutter. He’s been looking after Dakota. Doctor, this is Sergeant Lindsey Mandel. I don’t think you two managed introductions with all that happened earlier.”

Lindsey realized that she must have sounded rude. The fiery agony in her arm wasn’t helping her disposition. She rose to her feet and was pleased when she stayed upright. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I’m just really worried about Dakota. How is he?”