Page 36 of Lay Down the Law

His eyes were the color of midnight, and so tortured Erin wanted to reach out and touch him, just to let him know he wasn’t alone, even if she knew he wouldn’t believe it.

“I know you only want what’s best for her,” she said.

“That includes keeping her safe.”

“Nick, I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just…”

“Impulsive?” One side of his mouth hiked into a half smile.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been accused of that.” Erin let out the breath she’d been holding, relieved that he’d purposefully quelled the tension between them. “How did she end up in the wheelchair?”

Nick waited so long before answering that for a moment Erin thought he wouldn’t answer at all. When he did, his voice was so low she had to lean forward to hear him.

“A car accident three years ago. My wife was killed. Stephanie received a spinal injury. She spent two weeks in intensive care.”

He looked out across the lawn, into the darkness. Even in profile, Erin saw the tight clench of his jaw and the raw emotion in the depths of his eyes. Her heart went out to him as she watched him struggle for words.

“Two weeks later, I had to look into those innocent eyes of hers and tell her she might not ever walk again. That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.” His laugh held no humor. “All she was worried about was whether or not she’d be able to take care of Bandito. That from a little girl who lived for basketball and horse shows, and who’d just lost her mother. Her courage humbles me.”

“I’m sorry, Nick. I know that must have been tough.” The words didn’t seem adequate.

“Yeah, McNeal, me, too. She’s a terrific kid.”

“I know.” Erin longed to reach out to him. To touch that strong jaw. Run her fingers over his shoulders until they were no longer rigid. To relax the clenching of his fists by taking his hands in hers. But she didn’t do any of those things because she knew that wasn’t what he needed.

His eyes met hers. Even under the cover of darkness, she felt exposed beneath that heady gaze. She wanted to tell him that disabled children could ride horses with the help of special equipment and adult spotters, but something told her now wasn’t the time. His emotions were too close to the surface, and she knew he didn’t want them prodded.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Erin gave him that time, knowing he needed it, not sure how she would react if the strong man she’d come to respect broke down. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself to do the right thing if he did. The urge to touch him was too powerful, and at the moment she was feeling downright weak.

“Is there a possibility she could walk at some point in the future?” she asked.

“She’s had two operations already. Her neurosurgeon seems optimistic.”

“What about pain?”

“Thank God it’s minor and can be controlled with anti-inflammatory drugs, for the most part,” he said. “She has some feeling and a little strength in her left leg. But in the last six months, she’s developed a rare post-traumatic condition called syringomyelia.”

“One of the kids I worked with up in Chicago had the same condition. It’s where a tumor forms at an injury site or surgical site, right?”

His gaze sharpened, and Erin knew he hadn’t expected her to be familiar with the condition. “Most people haven’t even heard of it.”

“There’s an operation—”

“Laminectomy and duraplasty.” Nick grimaced. “The procedure’s untested. Risky.”

“What kind of risks?”

His mouth curved into that half smile again. “Ah, McNeal, you’re getting really predictable.”

“Best case scenario,” she pressed.

“Best case, Stephanie would regain feeling in her legs and be able to start physical therapy immediately. Worst case scenario is that the formation of scar tissue or further spinal cord damage could cause further paralysis. It could significantly lower her quality of life, possibly even her life expectancy. If we leave it be, she might eventually regain enough feeling to use a walker one day.”

Erin absorbed the words, wondering what she would do if faced with the same devastating dilemma. “You’re willing to settle for that?”

“I nearly lost her once.” Nick looked across the driveway to where Bandito grazed next to the fence. “I won’t risk losing her again.”

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