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Authors: Jennifer Moore
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out. “I’ll manage.”
“Goodbye, Shelby Jo Walker.” He set down her hand and turned to go.
“Goodbye, Hakim.” She barely managed to whisper the words before pushing the morphine drip button, hoping the drug could dull the ache in her heart.
Chapter Five
Shelby stretched across the back seat of her parents’ full-size pickup. Her mom had covered her with blankets and propped her up with pillows, but Shelby still felt every bump and curve in the road on their five-hour drive.
The conversation with the surgeon had left her discouraged. He’d explained she had a trimalleolar fracture, which meant all three bones in her ankle were broken and held together with plates and screws. She couldn’t put any weight on her foot for six weeks. Her dad pushed her to the car in a wheelchair and loaded her new crutches in the back of the pick-up with her luggage.
Shelby’s parents, Burke and Debbie, stayed with her in the hospital overnight, although she asked them to at least sleep in the soft bed at her apartment. She hadn’t been surprised when they insisted the chairs in her hospital room were just as comfortable.
They always meant well. They loved her and wanted to take care of her, but she knew the next few weeks would be hard. Her parents weren’t the best at giving her the space she needed.
She sat up and rested her cheek against the cold window. Shelby always enjoyed the familiar drive to Culver Springs. Even in the dead of winter, she saw a beauty in the desert country that most people overlooked. The car twisted through another canyon, and she gazed across the barren terrain. A few straggly bushes and trees stood stoically, breaking up the harsh landscape. Here and there, fences marked cattle country. Most ranchers built their enclosures using odd-shaped, crooked branches strung together with barbed wire. Shelby thought this type of fence complemented the desert terrain better than the artificial-looking manufactured railings used by wealthy ranchers.
Frozen snow drifted in ribbons across the road, blown by the almost-constant wind. Cracks formed by water zig-zagged here and there in the hard, flat ground, invisible until a person practically fell into one. Some of the deeper cracks ran for miles, forcing animals and humans alike to find alternative routes around them. The land was unpredictable and exciting, and in winter, the weather was severe.
Shelby let out a frustrated sigh. After trying so hard to be independent, here she was, totally reliant on her parents. Not doing things for herself piqued her frustration, and she dreaded the “talk” her parents would have about where her life was going. She knew they would bring up her accident as another reason for her to move back home and settle down.
As the vehicle left the highway and drove into town, Shelby felt memories leap from every direction. Unlike most towns its size, Culver Springs had resisted modern super-stores. Instead, the majority of business took place in small, family-owned shops. The two-block expanse of Main Street functioned as the commercial hub for the town and surrounding ranches. Main Street ended at the high school, where the entire community turned out on Friday nights to support the football team, The Culver Crusaders. The oldest houses stood in the center of town, with newer constructions growing on the edges.
Her dad drove straight down Main and turned west on Center. They still had another ten miles to go, and Shelby braced herself for the bumpy ride as Center became a dirt road. As the pick-up bumped over the road, the sun went down. Burke turned onto the gravel drive and the truck’s headlights illuminated the ranch house where Shelby had grown up.
The Walkers lived in a white, two-story Victorian with pointed gables and a wrap-around porch. During the day, a large oak tree shaded the porch. A wreath of painted wooden snowflakes hung on the front door. Shelby let out a slow breath. The familiar sight of her childhood
“Goodbye, Shelby Jo Walker.” He set down her hand and turned to go.
“Goodbye, Hakim.” She barely managed to whisper the words before pushing the morphine drip button, hoping the drug could dull the ache in her heart.
Chapter Five
Shelby stretched across the back seat of her parents’ full-size pickup. Her mom had covered her with blankets and propped her up with pillows, but Shelby still felt every bump and curve in the road on their five-hour drive.
The conversation with the surgeon had left her discouraged. He’d explained she had a trimalleolar fracture, which meant all three bones in her ankle were broken and held together with plates and screws. She couldn’t put any weight on her foot for six weeks. Her dad pushed her to the car in a wheelchair and loaded her new crutches in the back of the pick-up with her luggage.
Shelby’s parents, Burke and Debbie, stayed with her in the hospital overnight, although she asked them to at least sleep in the soft bed at her apartment. She hadn’t been surprised when they insisted the chairs in her hospital room were just as comfortable.
They always meant well. They loved her and wanted to take care of her, but she knew the next few weeks would be hard. Her parents weren’t the best at giving her the space she needed.
She sat up and rested her cheek against the cold window. Shelby always enjoyed the familiar drive to Culver Springs. Even in the dead of winter, she saw a beauty in the desert country that most people overlooked. The car twisted through another canyon, and she gazed across the barren terrain. A few straggly bushes and trees stood stoically, breaking up the harsh landscape. Here and there, fences marked cattle country. Most ranchers built their enclosures using odd-shaped, crooked branches strung together with barbed wire. Shelby thought this type of fence complemented the desert terrain better than the artificial-looking manufactured railings used by wealthy ranchers.
Frozen snow drifted in ribbons across the road, blown by the almost-constant wind. Cracks formed by water zig-zagged here and there in the hard, flat ground, invisible until a person practically fell into one. Some of the deeper cracks ran for miles, forcing animals and humans alike to find alternative routes around them. The land was unpredictable and exciting, and in winter, the weather was severe.
Shelby let out a frustrated sigh. After trying so hard to be independent, here she was, totally reliant on her parents. Not doing things for herself piqued her frustration, and she dreaded the “talk” her parents would have about where her life was going. She knew they would bring up her accident as another reason for her to move back home and settle down.
As the vehicle left the highway and drove into town, Shelby felt memories leap from every direction. Unlike most towns its size, Culver Springs had resisted modern super-stores. Instead, the majority of business took place in small, family-owned shops. The two-block expanse of Main Street functioned as the commercial hub for the town and surrounding ranches. Main Street ended at the high school, where the entire community turned out on Friday nights to support the football team, The Culver Crusaders. The oldest houses stood in the center of town, with newer constructions growing on the edges.
Her dad drove straight down Main and turned west on Center. They still had another ten miles to go, and Shelby braced herself for the bumpy ride as Center became a dirt road. As the pick-up bumped over the road, the sun went down. Burke turned onto the gravel drive and the truck’s headlights illuminated the ranch house where Shelby had grown up.
The Walkers lived in a white, two-story Victorian with pointed gables and a wrap-around porch. During the day, a large oak tree shaded the porch. A wreath of painted wooden snowflakes hung on the front door. Shelby let out a slow breath. The familiar sight of her childhood
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