How We Were | ✔️ (Complete)

7. The Ankle

Daddy and I were a team from the very beginning. Me as an infant in his arms, a toddler on his shoulders, a child on his back, a pre-teen girl with my hand tucked safely in his.

I was his and he was mine, and now that he was gone, and I was lost.

Daddy.

Oh, Layla-Girl.

I imagined him watching me from Heaven, and knew his heart would be breaking for me. And more than my own, I ached for his pain.

***

I don't know how long I stood there mute and dumb, staring at Jake staring back at me, but I broke it off first.

Gritting my teeth, I put my weight on my bad ankle and got back to work.

If I ignored him long enough, he'd get bored and leave. And when he left, I would let myself weep. As far as I was concerned, it didn't count as long as no one saw you.

Moments later, to my distress, I heard the gate squeak open.

But I kept shoveling, even when his shadow fell across me.

"I have four minutes left from yesterday to try and make you smile," he said quietly.

I was horrified at the thought, but didn't trust myself to be able to form a sentence in my state.

"I'll start now," he said.

I didn't look up, didn't reply, only kept scraping the same spot with the shovel, keeping my head bowed low to keep him from seeing the tears.

"Here we go. My mom's name is Jeanine," he said.

"Please," I said to the toes of his boots. "Please just go away." My voice came out a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

"She was real pretty, like you, but with long curly brown hair and the softest hands you could imagine. In the early days, she laughed a lot." He paused. "She wasn't very good at singing, but she sang all the time anyway, country love songs mostly, if I remember right."

He paused again and scratched his nose. "I thought she was wonderful."

Despite my exasperation, I started to wonder where he was going with this.

"I don't know how a woman like her ended up with the likes of my dad, but she did, and eventually, he broke her spirit.

I think I was about five years old. I'd fallen from a tree and skinned both my knees real bad, I mean, to the bone bad. If you look closely enough, you can still see the scars. Anyway, I limped home as fast as I could, crying for her."

I still had my head down, but I stopped moving, to listen. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me, but I hoped he wasn't.

"Well, when I got home, my dad was passed out on the lawn and she was slamming the car's trunk shut. So I asked her where we were going. She looked at me then, and she had this... look on her face. Like she was disgusted by the sight of me."

His voice trailed off, as if he were deep in thought.

"Anyhow," he said, breaking the spell. "She drove away without answering me and that's the last I've seen of her."

Frowning, I looked up at him, but his Stetson was pulled low over his eyes. He raised his wrist and checked his watch, standing still for another fifteen seconds.

"Time's up," he said and grinned, his face all easy smiles and shining eyes. "You're not smiling." He shrugged. "Guess the charm is fading."

Without waiting for a response, he snatched his Stetson from his head and placed it on mine, brim pulled down low to cover my eyes. He took the shovel from my hand, turned his back on me and got to work, his movements precise, fluid and easy.

Tears streaming fully down my face, I limped over to water trough and took a seat on the ledge.

And I watched him. The boy in the jeans and a dusty white tee shirt, the fabric worn thin by wear and the sun's rays.

So this was his magic.

And I discovered that I wasn't much different from the rest of them after all.

I pulled his Stetson lower over my eyes and let myself have a good cry.

***

I was picking the dirt out from under my nails when he called my name.

"Still here?"

I shrugged without looking up and continued to work on my nails. I had planned to call my mom in the off chance that she'd be willing to pick me up. But she didn't get off of work for another hour.

So the plan was to wait until Jake left, then somehow manage my way to the barn where I could make the phone call.

He tossed the rake into the shed and stood in front of me, nodding his head at my leg. "What's wrong with your leg?"

"It's just a sprain. Not a big deal."

"Let me have a look."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not a horse."

"You're as shakey as a newborn filly." He squatted down and grabbed my boot. He looked up at me, his forehead wrinkling just like James Dean's. And grinned.

My God, those eyes.

"And as pretty as one too."

I rolled my eyes. "Slow down there cowboy, you're gonna make me blush."

He smiled blandly. "If I meant for you to blush, you'd be blushing."

Then he touched me, his calloused palm warm and rough against the the back of my knee.

"What are you doing?" I said, trying to pull away.

He tightened his grip, immobilizing my leg.

"Easy..." He said soothingly, steady green eyes looking up at me. Then with aching gentleness, he slowly, slowly dragged the boot off my foot.

I burned.

He grinned. "This time, I meant for you to blush."

Without missing a beat, he turned his attention back to my ankle and whistled. "Ouch. I don't have to be a doctor to know this is bad."

I looked down and winced. The bruise had spread to the bridge of my foot and the swelling had worsened.

"Do you have insurance?" he asked, his tone matter of fact.

I shook my head.

"Well, it looked like you were able to bear some weight on it, so that's a good sign," he said.

He took my bare foot in his hand. I cringed with embarrassment at my badly chipped toenail polish. On the bright side, I'd shaved my legs.

"This hurt?" he asked, lightly pressing the the knot on the inside of my ankle.

I shook my head.

He moved his hand a few inches up. "This?"

I shook my head again.

He moved his fingers down to my foot and lightly pressed on the outside edge of my foot. "This?"

Again, I shook my head.

"Shouldn't be broke then. I'll wrap it for you. I've done it a million times."

"On animals."

"And myself," he shrugged. "I'm still walking and I've had worse than this. Wait for me in the barn. I'll go grab some dressings."

"I'll wait here," I said quickly.

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly but he said nothing, only grabbed his hat from my lap, plunked it on his head and walked away.

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