Lacey slept in until about eight the next morning since her best friend, Brooke, had come over and they talked until almost three in the morning. Lacey had slept through breakfast, which she never did. Grabbing her wheelchair, Lacey settled herself in it then wheeled herself into her ensuite bathroom.
She brushed her teeth, washed her face, took her morning medicine, and debated if she should put on makeup. Lacey hadn't worn any since she was with Jeremy. Sighing, she shut her medicine cabinet and rolled out of her bathroom without any makeup on. The only reason she would have worn any today was because she wanted to impress Slade..."Not that his opinion matters." Lacey tried to convince herself.
Rolling around her room, Lacey continued to get dressed for the day. She put her pants on last, like always, because of the amount of work it required. Lacey had physical therapy today, so she decided to wear a pair of sweatpants instead of her usual jeans. After slipping on her pair of tennis shoes and putting her hair in a pony tail, Lacey was ready for the day. She put things like deodorant, body spray, an extra set of clothes, and a pair of cowboy boots in her duffle bag for after physical therapy in case she got really sweaty or something. Lacey zipped up the duffle bag after throwing her wallet in, then set the bag on her lap and rolled herself to the stair lift at the top of the stairs.
There was nobody downstairs or anywhere in the house, Lacey found out once she got downstairs. Lacey rolled herself into the kitchen and before she opened up the fridge door, she saw a note. It was from her parents. They had gone to the store with Ryder, and Willie was at rodeo practice, so Slade was supposed to take Lacey to her physical therapy session. "Great." Lacey said sarcastically. Sighing, Lacey opened the fridge door, but didn't see anything that sounded good to eat. At physical therapy, they always weighed their patients and Lacey was very self conscious about her weight because of Jeremy, and so she almost never ate before going to the doctors or to physical therapy. Now, she hardly ever ate around anyone.
Lacey settled on an apple for her breakfast. She looked at the clock. Slade and Lacey would have to leave soon to make it to the appointment on time. "Where is he?" Lacey asked herself. She rolled herself to the living room and looked out the large picture window to see if she could see where Slade was at. He was no where in sight. Refusing to go outside to look for Slade, Lacey grabbed her phone and shot him a text asking where he was at.
A few minutes later, Slade texted back, "In the barn. Can you come outside? I need your help with something."
Lacey sighed. This was just another one of Slade's attempts to get Lacey to go outside. She refused and didn't text Slade back.
Fifteen minutes later, Lacey thought that maybe Slade really did need help out in the barn because he still hadn't come into the house. Lacey rolled back over to the picture window in he living room and looked out. She saw Slade, shirtless, grab his shirt and cowboy hat off of the bed of his truck parked by the barn, and started putting his shirt on as he walked inside the house.
From the glimpse Lacey saw, Slade had nicely toned abs and muscles. She could tell that his muscles weren't from endless hours at the gym, but more from hard work on the ranch. Slade had proved from the three weeks that he had worked for Lacey's family, that he was a very hard worker. He had great stamina, and worked harder than her dad and little brothers put together. Often, he had come in late to supper or breakfast because he had been working on something outside. A few times, he skipped lunch all together. Slade never lets a project go unfinished and he always finishes what he starts, no matter how big or challenging it is.
Lacey rolled away from the window and over to the front door to greet Slade. She opened the door once he reached the porch; he had just finished buttoning his shirt.
"Hey." A sweaty Slade greeted Lacey. He held his cowboy hat in one hand.
"Hey." Lacey replied. She held the door open for Slade until he passed through, then she closed it.
"Are you ready to go?" Slade asked, smiling down at Lacey.
"Yes." Lacey replied, her duffle bag on her lap. She tried to not look a Slade's attractive smile.
"Okay. I'm goin' to go grab a glass of water then we can head out." Slade said. He rubbed some sweat off of his forehead, then went into the kitchen. Lacey waited patiently in the entry way until Slade returned from the kitchen.
When Slade returned to where Lacey was, he plopped his cowboy hat on his head and grabbed Lacey's duffle bag off her lap without saying a word. With his Mason jar of water in one hand, and Lacey's duffle bag in the other, Slade managed to hold the screen door open for Lacey. She rolled outside onto the porch, and tried hard to not look at how good Slade looked in his cowboy hat. His black Stetson made his blue eyes glow all the more.
Slade walked in front of Lacey and down into the yard. He turned around when he realized that Lacey wasn't following him. "Y'comin'?"
"My dad usually pulls the truck up to the porch so I don't have to wheel out into the yard." Lacey explained to Slade. The real reason was because she was too scared to go any further than the porch.
Slade smiled, and without saying anything, he walked back up to the porch, set Lacey's duffle bag back on her lap, and, still with a Mason jar in one hand, began to wheel Lacey down the ramp beside the steps and off the porch. Lacey's hands immediately went to the wheels before he could push her further than five feet. Slade stopped pushing her, but kept his hand on the handlebar. "I can do it myself." Lacey stated.
Slade shrugged. "Okay." He said, and started walking off the porch.
Lacey didn't think he would actually let her roll herself to his truck, but oh well. She knew that Slade was just testing her. To prove she didn't need help, Lacey turned her wheel chair to the ramp and slowly made her way off the porch and onto the grass then onto the gravel where Slade's truck was parked, next to the barn. When Lacey was a short ways to Slade's truck, one of the tires of her wheelchair got caught in a small rut and Lacey tried unsuccessfully three times to get out. Slade, realizing that she was stuck, made his way to her side.
"I can do it myself." Lacey stated quietly. She couldn't do it by herself, as proved, but she didn't want Slade to think that she was incapable.
Lacey thought that she heard Slade slightly chuckle at Lacey's stubbornness. Slade didn't say a word as he effortlessly pushed Lacey's wheelchair forward and to the passenger side of his truck. He paused for a second as he looked from Lacey to his truck, that naturally sat higher then the truck she was used to, then back to Lacey. Opening the passenger side door, Slade looked at Lacey and asked, "You trust me?"
"What?" Lacey asked, confused at his random question.
"Do you trust me to get you into my truck? I have to lift you up, but I want to make sure that you trust me first." Slade smiled at Lacey.
"I trust you." ...Not! But Slade was right, he would have to lift her up into his truck; there was no other possible way for her to get up into the seat..."unfortunately," Lacey thought to herself sarcastically.
Lacey reached down to put the breaks on her wheelchair, but Slade's hands were already there. "Sorry." She said quietly when her hand brushed his. She felt herself blushing.
"It's okay." Slade replied, casting a quick glance at Lacey. He set his Mason jar into the cup holder inside his truck, then placed Lacey's duffle bag on the middle of the bench seat in the cab.
While Slade was putting the stuff in the cab, Lacey slid her feet off of the foot rest and onto the dirt ground.
Slade didn't hesitate when he slid an arm under Lacey's knees and his other behind her back. Lacey wrapped her arms around Slade's neck as his strong arms carefully lifted Lacey out of her wheelchair and set her safely in his truck. Once she was situated, Lacey buckled herself. She turned and was about to give Slade directions on how to fold up her wheelchair, but he had already folded it up and put it in the bed of his truck. Slade's expert motions made Lacey wonder if he had done this sort of thing before or if he was just good at everything. Slade joined Lacey in the cab of his truck. Slade smiled at Lacey and asked, "Y'all ready to go?"
Lacey nodded. Slade turned the key and his truck rumbled to life after a little persuasion. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other out the open driver side window. Occasionally, his hands would switch places so that he could shift gears since his truck was manual. That was one thing that Lacey never thought she'd miss, but did: a manual transmission.
As Slade drove down Lacey's long, dusty driveway, Lacey pulled her hair back into a tighter pony tail because the wind from her open window was causing her hair to blow around, and she didn't want it to get messy before physical therapy. She tried to tuck part of her swoop bangs behind her ear, but the hair was just short enough that it wouldn't go behind her ear.
Lacey saw Slade look at her out of the corner of her eye. She turned to meet his gaze. He quickly turned away, then said, "Sorry about the wind. My air conditionin' is broken. I've tried fixin' it myself, but everything I've tried ain't worked. And the parts cost more then the truck is worth...I prefer the fresh breeze over the AC anyways." Slade explained to Lacey, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.
"That's okay. I like the breeze anyways. I just don't want my hair to get messed up before physical therapy. That's all." Lacey realized that she was still looking at Slade. She thought that he was very attractive before he was wearing a cowboy hat, but now with his black Stetson perched on his head, he was even more attractive. She had seen him in his cowboy hat before, but only from a distance when he was working outside. Slade always took his cowboy hat off when he entered the house since he was such a gentleman with good manners.
"I think your hair looks fine." Slade said shyly, sparing a glance at Lacey who still hadn't tore her eyes away from him. They looked at each other a little too long especially since Slade was driving. Looking back to his driving, Slade asked Lacey, after clearing his throat, "Which way do I turn?"
"Oh right, I forgot. You've never taken me to physical therapy. Sorry. Turn left." Lacey said. She suddenly felt nervous, but it wasn't because she was going to physical therapy.
When they came to another intersection, Slade asked Lacey again, "Which way do I go?"
"Straight. You're on this road 'til it ends, then turn right." Lacey said.
Slade obliged. Lacey found herself fiddling with the end of her hair like she always did when she was nervous. It had become a bad habit for her; anyone who could read body language could tell when she was nervous.
After driving for a while in silence, Slade asked Lacey, "Do you want to listen to music?"
"Sure." Lacey replied.
Slade took his eyes off the road to turn the knob on the radio to "on." He then banged the dash above the radio
hard with his fist. Only then did the station came in. Slade smiled at Lacey. "Faulty wiring. It's an old truck." Slade shrugged.
Lacey chuckled slightly. She was about to tell him her favorite station but it was already preset there. "The first day that I had to drive into town, I found all the country stations that y'all have out here and I preset my radio to them...all two of them." Slade explained to Lacey. Since he wasn't from around here, the country stations were different from wherever he was from, which is why Lacey would've told him which ones she recommended. "I've found this one to be my favorite, but we can listen to whatever you want." Slade shifted gears in his truck.
"This is actually my favorite station." Lacey said.
"Yer not just sayin' that, are you?" Slade asked Lacey. He spared a glance at her and smiled that cockeyed smile Lacey loved from the first day she met him.
"I'm dead serious." Lacey said smiling back, but trying to sound serious.
"This is a good song." Slade said, turning the volume up on the radio. Lacey loved this song. She hummed along to it. Slade sang horribly off key to the song. Lacey could tell that he was doing it on purpose because it was just plumb horrible.
Lacey laughed. "Oh my goodness...Slade..." She looked over at him and rolled her eyes. She realized that this was the first time she had said his name to him. She was beginning to love the way it felt on her lips.
"What?" Slade had an innocent look.
"Please tell me that you don't really sing like that."
"Are you insulting my singing, Lacey?" Slade pretended to look hurt. He turned the radio up slightly and kept singing the song horribly off key. He purposely made his voice crack and waver.
"Oh my gosh." Lacey smiled and rolled her eyes.
"What?" Slade asked again, looking back to the road.
"Your singin'...it's horrible." Lacey gave Slade a look.
Slade chuckled. "What would you do if that was how I really sang?"
Lacey didn't even hesitate when she said, "I would probably never listen to this song again."
"Harsh. Wow." Slade pretended to be hurt again. He shifted the gears again to stop at the only stop sign for miles around Lacey's house.
"Turn left." Lacey answered Slade's unasked question.
"Alright. Let's hear it." Slade said, shifting gears again to get his truck up to speed.
"Hear what?"
"You insulted my signin'; now let's see if you can do better." Slade said, with his right hand on the gearshift.
Lacey laughed. Slade was competitive; she liked that. "Oh, I know I can do way better, but I'm gonna to save my singin' for real competition." Lacey winked at Slade to tell him that she was kidding.
"Alright, now you have to sing. C'mon, the chorus is coming up." Slade turned the volume up a little more on his radio.
"No. I'm not goin' to sing." Lacey said, turning serious. She hated singing in front of other people. She used to dream of playing her guitar and singing at rodeos and small venues, but that dream quickly faded after her accident and after Jeremy...
"I'll sing with you." Slade said, interrupting Lacey's thoughts.
"Please don't." Lacey said teasingly. She chuckled.
"No c'mon. We got it." Slade said.
"I'm a little rusty. I haven't sang in forever." Lacey said. She never turned down the opportunity at a challenge...so why was she making excuses now?
"I don't care. Here. The chorus is comin' up. Ready...go." Slade said, pointing to the radio as if giving a cue.
Lacey groaned then started to sing along to the chorus. Slade joined her almost immediately. He had a great voice when he wasn't trying to sound bad; Lacey was thoroughly surprised. She definitely did not expect him to be a good singer. His thick country accent made his deep singing voice so much better. It almost perfectly matched that of the country singer's on the radio. Slade even picked up on Lacey's pitch and harmonized with her. They sang flawlessly together for the rest of the song. About halfway through the song when Slade was singing with her, Lacey didn't care what Slade thought of her singing; they sounded so good together that she found she couldn't stop singing.
The song ended and there was an immediate silence in the truck. Slade had locked eyes with Lacey while they were singing the song, but looked back to the road when a driver behind him honked, telling him the light was green. Slade drove forward. Without a word, he turned down the radio when a commercial came on and focused on his driving. The only time that the silence was broken in the truck was when Lacey had to tell Slade which way to turn. "Turn righ-"
"You sing really good, Lace." Slade said quickly before Lacey could finish her sentence. Slade looked at Lacey after he turned right.
"Thanks. You do too. I take back what I said about you singin' bad." Lacey smiled an awkward smile.
Silence again. "You're the only one who knows what I sing like. Well, besides my mom." Slade admitted quietly. He quickly looked at Lacey, then turned back to the road.
"You should sing more. I think that you're phenomenal." Lacey said honestly. She tried hard to not look at Slade. He was seriously the most attractive man that she had ever seen.
"Thanks. I hate to hear myself sing...did you sing a lot growing up...in choir or something?"
Lacey pointed to her left, telling Slade which way to turn. "I did. I love to sing. I used to dream of havin' a music career. I have always wanted to play at rodeos and fairs and places like that, but..." Lacey's voice faded.
"What changed?" Slade asked.
Lacey looked away and said, just above a whisper, "Everything changed." Then audibly, Lacey changed the subject. "Did you sing a lot when you were a kid?"
Slade looked away from Lacey. She watched his jaw clench. "My mama had a great voice. She used to tour with her band." Slade said as if he'd rehearsed that response many times, yet still not answering Lacey's question.
Lacey made a mental note to try to avoid talking about Slade's past. She remembered his first meal with them over three weeks ago when Lacey's mom asked Slade questions about his parents and his past, and Lacey could tell it made Slade uncomfortable. Something must've happened in Slade's past that was so life changing that it was physically and emotionally hard for him to talk about.
Changing the subject again, Lacey said, "Make a right at the next intersection, then my physical therapy building is the third building on the left."
Slade didn't say anything to Lacey the rest of the drive to the physical therapy building. Slade parked his truck in the spot closest to the building without parking in the handicap spot, since he did not have a handicap plaque. Lacey waited until Slade came over to her side of the truck, got her wheelchair out of the bed, and opened Lacey's door. She unbuckled her seatbelt and waited for Slade to lift her out of the truck and into her wheelchair. Sure enough, Slade's strong arms came under Lacey's legs and behind her back, carefully setting her down in her wheelchair. Before Lacey could say anything, Slade grabbed her duffle bag and swung it over his shoulder, then began to wheel Lacey into the building. Before Slade could roll Lacey more then five feet, Lacey slammed her hands onto the wheels, stopping her wheelchair. Lacey heard Slade sigh. She looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm sorry." Lacey said quietly.
"For what?" Slade said, slight annoyance in his voice. He began trying to push Lacey's wheelchair forward again.
Lacey stopped him again. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings or brought back bad memories. I didn't mean to."
"You're fine, Lacey. I was just thinkin' about stuff. You didn't upset me." Slade looked at Lacey and smiled to let her know that she didn't offend him. Only then did Lacey let go of the wheels on her wheelchair, allowing Slade to push her forwards.
Once they got inside, Slade immediately took his cowboy hat off and then placed it on Lacey's lap. Lacey had Slade wheel her to the elevator. They rode it to the second floor, then Lacey signed herself in at the front desk. Slade helped her put her wristband on and the receptionist told Lacey to wait in the waiting room until her physical therapist came out to get her since they were a few minutes early. Slade rolled Lacey into the waiting room and sat down in a chair next to her. Lacey found herself fiddling with the ends of her hair like she always did whenever she was nervous, and she was always nervous before her physical therapy or doctors appointments.
Slade tried making small talk with Lacey as they waited for the physical therapist to come out and take Lacey back. Finally, after waiting about fifteen minutes, Lacey's therapist came out. He looked from Slade to Lacey and back to Slade. Extending his hand, Lacey's therapist smiled and introduced himself to Slade. "Hi there. I'm Trevor. I'm Lacey's physical therapist." No Western accent, or any country accent, laced Trevor's words. Trevor was from what he considered a small town in New York. That "small town" consisted of over 17,000 people.
Trevor came out west a few years ago to visit family he had in Montana, and while in Montana, he met a girl. He married her and moved in with her in what he calls a ranch. It is a two acre lot with five chickens, a dog and two cats. Trevor used to work as a physical therapist as a part time job in New York, and was in the business realm for his full time job. But he said that once he met his wife, he wanted to start fresh. That fresh start meant that he give up business and work as a physical therapist full time. Trevor was good at what he did, but sometimes Lacey wished he only worked in business, especially on the really hard therapy days.
"It's nice to meet you, Trevor." Slade's thick drawl replied.
Trevor nodded and looked like he didn't fully understand what Slade just said. Lacey remembered the first several conversations they had and how Trevor admitted to having a hard time understanding the western country accents every once in a while. He turned to Lacey and said, "You ready to go have some fun?"
Lacey turned to look at Slade. She raised her eyebrows and tucked her lips under her teeth in a way that said, sarcastically, "Wish me luck."
Slade tried to hide a smile. "I'll be waitin' right here."
Lacey nodded and turned back to Trevor. She began wheeling herself into the therapy room. Trevor walked right beside her.
About halfway through Lacey's therapy session, as she was working on her upper body strength with some dumbbells, Trevor asked, "So, Slade? He like your boyfriend or something?"
Lacey almost dropped the dumbbell on Trevor's foot. Regaining her composure, Lacey lifted up the dumbbell and answered Trevor. "Slade? Oh, no. He's just a friend." She paused. Trevor gave her a look that told her that he didn't believe her. "Um, my dad hired on Slade as a ranch hand on our ranch a few weeks back. We are just friends. I hardly see Slade anyways because he's always outside working." Lacey tried explaining to Trevor so he would know that her and Slade's aren't together.
"Yeah, not seeing your boyfriend a lot can put a strain on your relationship. Well, I think that you two make a very cute couple and wish you guys the best of luck."
Lacey shook her head and rolled her eyes. Why does everyone think that her and Slade would make a cute couple? There was no chemistry between them. Well, not a lot of chemistry. Hardly any. Very little. Lacey tried to focus less on Slade and more on her therapy session, but that attractive blue eyed cowboy was controlling her thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
The Paralyzed Dream (COMPLETED)
Ficção GeralLacey Anne Ferry grew up on a cattle ranch in Montana where riding horses was an everyday part of her life. She loved the horses, cattle, and the hard work that came with living on a working ranch. In the little free time that she had, Lacey rodeoed...