For fifteen minutes, she searched the Internet for keys. Convinced her mystery key was not a car or a house key, she searched for safety deposit keys. If it was for a safety deposit box, how would she find out which bank it belonged to? After ten more minutes of searching with no concrete answers, she changed her search.
She brought up the family therapist website Robert had shown her, hoping it would spark a memory this time. When nothing came, she changed her search again. She’d indulged in enough self-pity today.
She saw Daniel’s fidgeting through the window as she looked over the symptoms of opioid and alcohol withdrawal. He clearly struggled with many of the symptoms she reviewed.
“Faith, could you get me my crutches? I’d like to sit on the front porch.”
Faith stood. “I’ll push you out in the wheelchair, dear, but you shouldn’t be out on the front porch. Why don’t I help you out to the back patio? There’s not a lot of shade this time of day, but—”
“No.” Emily hadn’t had the energy to argue with Faith when she’d insisted on bringing her to the great room in the chair, but Daniel needed her now. And she wouldn’t go out there in a wheelchair. “Daniel is standing guard. I’m sure I’ll be fine, and I prefer the freedom the crutches give me.” She tried to keep her tone kind yet firm.
Faith chuckled. “I told Jake, the day we brought you home from the hospital, you were the stubborn, independent type. Although, Jake can be stubborn too. I wonder who would win in a battle of wills between you two.” She continued to chuckle as she walked out of the room.
Win? Between Jake and me?Why did Faith think there would ever be a battle of wills between them? Then, because Jake occupied too many of her thoughts and limited memories, she forced him out and focused on Daniel, whose bouncing leg recreated yesterday’s familiar drumming.
“I can see you’re struggling, Daniel,” Emily said a few minutes later, after settling on the lounge chair. “I’d like to tell you it will get easier soon, but the truth is this will take time and you’ll likely feel much worse before you feel any better.”
“Wow.” Daniel let out his breath in a quick huff. “That’s not what I want to hear right now.”
“Talk to me about something pleasant. Tell me what it was like to grow up on the ranch.”
And so went Emily’s afternoon. She spent hours talking to Daniel, alternately distracting him from what he was going through and preparing him for what he would experience. She encouraged him to focus on learning to play his guitar and suggested frequent walks down the lane.
They discussed how heavy his alcohol use had been prior to breaking his leg, and Daniel confided that both of his grandfathers were alcoholics, which meant Daniel’s addictions would be that much more difficult to overcome.
“In some regards, you’re lucky. The drugs have masked some of the initial alcohol withdrawal, but your dependence on the alcohol caused you to form an addiction to the pain killers faster than most people would. The drug withdrawals will be strong even though you’ve only been on them a few weeks.”
Before long, Daniel felt achy, nauseous, and needed to go to the bathroom frequently. All symptoms Emily had warned him about.
Deciding she needed to talk with Jake and Daniel’s parents, she suggested Daniel take a walk down the lane, hoping movement would be good for him. Though he looked miserable, Daniel didn’t argue. He slung the strap of the hunting rifle over his shoulder, picked up his crutches, and took off.
Picking up her own crutches, she followed the wrap-around porch in search of Jake. Reaching the back patio, she looked toward the stables and corrals. There was little activity. Crossing the back patio that spanned the length of the house, she entered through the mudroom, hoping to find Lottie in the kitchen.
The housekeeper stood by the counter peeling potatoes.
Emily shuffled to stand on the opposite side of the counter. “I need to sit down with you and Zane, and probably Jake as well, to discuss Daniel’s recovery. I know this may not be a good time for the men, but it is important.”
Lottie dropped the potato she’d been peeling. “Absolutely. Whatever you say. I’ll find them. But first...” She wrapped her arms around Emily, hugging her so tightly she winced. “Thank you so much for helping Daniel.”
Then Lottie was out the door, leaving Emily alone in the kitchen. She made her way to the table and sat down to wait for the others.
She didn’t have to wait long. While Zane washed up at the basin in the mudroom, Jake washed at the kitchen sink. Judging from the dirt and perspiration that clung to their clothes, they had been working hard.
She watched the play of muscles in Jake’s back under his long-sleeved work shirt, and that familiar warmth settled in her stomach.
When they joined her at the table, Emily explained the symptoms Daniel was beginning to experience and how bad they would get before they improved. She explained how the drug dependency and withdrawal would affect the alcohol withdrawal symptoms. She warned of things they needed to watch for, especially throughout the nights.
“He needs a lot of fluids and as much exercise as possible, despite his broken leg. He needs worthwhile distraction—something he can focus on, especially since he can’t be physically active.”
Jake looked at Zane. “Let’s have him take over the repair and cleaning of the tack. Maybe that will help a little.”
“That’s good, but if he didn’t have a broken leg, I would recommend heavy exercise.”
“He can do upper body workouts. There’s still that bar in the stables where Robert and I used to do pull-ups.”
Pull-ups?Emily’s gaze settled on Jake’s solid shoulders then roamed down over his chest. His shirt, though not snug, sure fit nicely. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. Pull-ups could only do so much. Jake had done a lot more than pull-ups to get those muscles. The way he carried her around so effortlessly attested to his strength.
Does he still work out?
