“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” he said, leaning over and picking up the spade.
After slapping her skirts aside, she crawled to the chair, turned, and rested her back against the wheel on the sunny side. She wondered what Payton would say if he could see her now, sprawled on the ground with her pride in shambles, pinning her hopes on a man she wouldn’t have deigned to notice a few short weeks ago. Would Payton take pleasure in her plight? Would he view it as an example of just deserts?
“All right, try this,” Frisco said, walking around her chair and holding out the spade. She hadn’t heard him return. “I had one of the hands grind the blade into a point.” Sitting down on his heels, he showed her. Now the spade’s edge looked more like a large trowel. “Let’s see if this works better.” He sat fully on the ground. “Chop and pry. What you want to do is pull up the sod. You don’t have to go deep. Here. Try it.”
Finally, she managed to hack out a piece of sod. It didn’t look like an enormous accomplishment, but that’s how it felt. She rested a minute, letting the heat of exertion recede from her face. When she looked again at the small chunk of sod, her elation faded.
“Give me the spade and I’ll show you what you’re aiming for. Watch.”
He pried out several hunks of sod then turned them grass side down in a circle around the shallow hole he’d created. Alex leaned forward. By placing the sod chunks around the perimeter, the pit was suddenly, almost effortlessly deeper.
“The wrangler will help with the fire pit,” Frisco said, studying her. “Very likely you won’t have to do this too often, but you need to know how and be able to do it when you must.”
“I think I can,” she said slowly, hating it but knowing that she was going to be digging holes all over the backyard until she got it right. “Give me the spade.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to practice,” he said, standing up. “Right now, I want you to try this crutch.” Reaching over her chair to the other side where she hadn’t seen him put it, he picked up a crutch, then extended his hand to pull her to her feet.
“I can’t,” she whispered, shuddering in revulsion at the sight of the crutch.
“We’ve already had this discussion, Mrs. Mills. Give me your hand.”
Panic tightened her chest. “You don’t understand. If I walk, I betray my husband.”
A year ago she would have been appalled by what she did next. She pounded the ground with her fists and would have screamed if she hadn’t suddenly recognized how badly she was losing control. Horrified, she covered her face with both hands and inhaled deeply. She had to do this. There was no choice. Not if she hoped for a future that included comfort and dignity.
“I hate you,” she said softly. “I know this isn’t your fault, but it feels as if it is. You’re making me do something I swore I would never do, so I hate you, Mr. Frisco.”
“Take my hand.”
He pulled her upright in one smooth easy movement. Immediately the blood rushed out of her head and his face swam dizzily in front of her eyes. She discovered that her left leg had been weakened during her year in the chair, and suddenly she wasn’t sure that it would support her weight. She would have fallen if Frisco hadn’t grabbed her. Swaying, she clutched his vest.
“Take your time.” He slipped the crutch under her right arm and instinctively she leaned on it.
Gradually the dizziness passed, but now she was aware of the appalling empty space beneath her right knee. No, she couldn’t think about that. If she let herself dwell on her missing limb, the scream would come again, and this time she might not be able to swallow it down.
Making herself do it, she released his vest and dropped her right hand to the crutch handle. That felt more secure, but she kept her left hand on his chest.
“When you’re ready, we’re going to walk over to the chuck wagon. You say when.”
Payton was in his grave, but she was going to walk. The thought made her feel sick.
“Put your weight on your left leg, move the crutch forward then swing your leg—”
“I can figure it out,” she snapped. Frisco stepped away from her, watching carefully. The dizziness returned when she realized she was standing alone. “I just…”
He looked into her eyes. “This afternoon your sisters are going to ride for three hours. When they limp home, they are going to be as stiff and sore as your left leg is going to be.”
Something flickered in her chest, responding to the bait he dangled. Eyes fixed on the side of the chuck wagon, she bit her lip in annoyance that she had become so transparent. He knew how competitive she was with her sisters.
She almost fell on the first step. She did fall on the second. Frisco caught her before she hit the ground, scooped up the crutch, and handed it to her when she was upright again.