"What do you need, Bethany? Tell me, and I'll do it."

"Talk to me. Make me so I'm not nervous."

The next thing Bethany knew, he was behind her on the horse. The instant his arm came around her, she could breathe again. "I'm right here, sweetheart. Right here with you."

She leaned against his chest and twisted to press her face against his neck. Ryan. She felt safe when he was holding her. Absolutely safe. Rationally, she knew he could do nothing to protect her if the horse came tumbling down on top of them. But that didn't matter. Her fear wasn't rational.

She started blabbering. About the accident. How it had happened. How she'd leaned forward and shifted her weight as Wink went into the turn. How they'd been beating their best time, racing with the wind. Then the sudden lurch. The dizzying sensation of flying through the air. Pain. A flash of pain so excruciating her brain exploded and went black.

"When I woke up, I couldn't feel my toes. Isn't it crazy that I remember that over everything?" She tipped her chin back as far as it would go and stared at the blue sky above them. "It wasn't my legs I was worried about. I couldn't feel my toes. I remember staring at the sheet and trying to wiggle them. Trying as hard as I could. And-realizing. Realizing. My mom and dad were there. Jake grabbed my arms and pinned them to the bed. I remember looking into his eyes and screaming. They didn't even have to tell me. I knew when I couldn't wiggle my toes."

Ryan let Wink's reins fall and wrapped both arms around her. "Forgive me, Bethany. Please, forgive me. You never have to get on a horse again. You can enjoy Wink just as much without riding her."

"That's just it," she whispered against his neck. "I need to ride. I need to, Ryan, like I need air to breathe. Don't let me get off. I'll never have the courage to get back on. Keep me on her until this stops."

"Oh, Jesus," he whispered.

"Please," she begged him. "Don't let it end like this. Don't take me down. Just make it better. Please?"

Ryan splayed a hand over her midriff and retrieved the reins. "Sly!" he yelled.

"Yo?" The ranch foreman came into the exercise area. "Whatcha need?"

"Throw open the gate," Ryan ordered.

Bethany watched Sly unlatch the gate and pull it open. Ryan drew Wink around and lunged her out of the corral. Bethany's heart flew into her throat. The ground looked as if it might leap up and smack her in the face. Ryan veered the horse toward the lake. Even though he reined the mare to a walk, the panic she felt was indescribable. She was going to die. Her heart was going to stop. Only it kept beating, and Wink kept going.

After a bit Ryan slowed the mare's pace even more. The breeze that blew in off the lake to kiss Bethany's face was laden with rich, wonderful scents-spring grass and budding wildflowers, pine and fir, and a crispness to the air that came in off the mountains. She relaxed against his hard chest, letting her body undulate with the horse and him.

"Oh, Ryan ..."

He pressed his face against her hair. "You know, honey, the way I see it, there's only two ways to live life. One way is to protect yourself from all danger as best you can, existing in a safe little bubble. Even then, chances are you could end up getting run over by a bus or contracting some terrible disease."

"What's the other option?" she asked with a shaky laugh. "You can grab hold of life with both hands, enjoy every blessed minute of it, and take a chance that you may get hurt or killed while you're doing something you love." She laughed again, the sound still quivery. "No halfway measures, like having a little bit of fun while you play it safe?"

He nibbled her neck. "That'd be like making love and never having an orgasm. Big-time frustrating."

"Been there, done that. I don't want to live my life that way."

"Then, grab hold with both hands," he whispered, and the next thing she knew, she was alone on the horse. He reached up to give her the reins. His beautiful eyes held hers for a long moment. "Live happy, darlin'. You're strapped on, so you can't fall. The only way you can get hurt is if Wink stumbles, and the ground squirrels don't dig burrows along the lakeshore. They stay in the fields where food is plentiful. She seems like a surefooted little lady to me."

Bethany nodded. "She's only fallen with me once, and that wasn't her fault." Even so, once was all it had taken. She closed her eyes and hauled in a bracing breath. "I'm walking back," he told her. "This being your first time out, it would probably be best if you came up and rode near the stable, where I can keep an eye on you."

Bethany stared straight ahead, so terrified she was trembling. "I, um ... it's nice, even ground for as far as I can see. Wink responds to voice commands. I'm sure I'll be fine, and-" She broke off and swallowed to steady her voice. "I need to do this, Ryan. First time out, I need to do it by myself for a bit."

She heard him sigh. She didn't dare look at him for fear she'd lose her nerve. "All right," he said. "Go, then. It's flat ground all the way around the lake. I don't recommend that you go too far the first day, but I'll leave that up to you."

Bethany nodded, resisting the urge to ask him to saddle his horse and go with her. It was stupid to feel afraid. The likelihood that Wink might stumble was minuscule. "I, um ... I won't go too far."

"When you're done, I'll be in the stable. Just ride in and holler. I'll help you off."

Bethany nodded, still staring straight ahead. "If I-um- don't come back in thirty minutes, come find me. Okay?"

"Honey, that goes without saying."

She felt better, knowing he'd come after her if she didn't return in a specified period of time. Heart in throat, she urged Wink forward.

Ryan waited at the stable in a sweat, worrying every second Bethany was gone. When twenty minutes had passed, he saddled up his sorrel gelding and went to find her. She was clear at the opposite end of the lake near his parents' place when he caught up with her. At the sound of his approach, she twisted at the waist and waved, her face beaming, her eyes glowing.

"Oh, Ryan, thank you ... thank you. This is so wonderful. So freeing. I can go places that are impossible in my wheelchair. You've opened up a whole new world for me."

He slowed his horse to a walk beside hers. His heart hurt to see her so happy. "Pretty special day?"

"Oh, yes. I don't feel so afraid now. Not entirely at ease yet. But not terrified, either."

"That's good. How's Wink doing?"

"Fabulously. I used to run her a lot, and she loved it. But today she seems content to walk." She leaned forward to stroke the horse's neck. "Maybe we're both just getting old. I think she's enjoying the slow pace."

"Nothing wrong with a slow pace. You can enjoy the scenery."

"That's true. It's so beautiful here, Ryan. You have no idea how very lucky you are to have all this in your backyard. The lake, the forests, and that incredible view of the mountains looming against the sky. It's heaven."

"It's your backyard now, too, you know."

She lifted her face to the gentle sunlight. "It is, isn't it."

"We're getting married in five days," he reminded her.

"Only five days." She smiled at him. "You getting cold feet yet?"

"Nope. Are you?"

She shook her head. "I've never felt so sure about anything."

He hated to be a wet blanket, but he was worried about her riding for too long. "It'd be best not to overdo the first day. You haven't been on a horse in eight years, and you can't feel what it's doing to your legs."

"Just a while longer. It's so wonderful, I don't want it to end."

Ryan considered their location. "You want to ride all the way around? We've gone so far, I don't think it'll be all that much closer if we double back." "I'd love it!" It took half an hour to circle back to Ryan's place. Shortly after their return to the stable, Bethany's legs started to cramp. Ryan carried her to the house. When he jerked off her shoes and jeans, he saw that her feet were bent nearly double in muscle spasms and that the tendons were knotted in her calves and thighs. She lay forward at the waist with her teeth clenched.

As Ryan tried to straighten her legs, she couldn't stifle a scream. He rushed to the phone to call Dr. Kirsch, the Kendrick family physician. The kindly old doctor drove out to the Rocking K. After examining Bethany, he gave her an injection to help relax her muscles.

When the shot started to take effect, Kirsch sat on the side of the bed, holding her hand. "From now on, take it one step at a time, young lady. Tomorrow, no riding. The following day, you can ride for ten minutes. If that goes well, you can add a few minutes to your riding time each day. You have to build up to this slowly, and chances are, even when you've been back in the saddle for a while, you'll still need to take frequent breaks when you go for long jaunts."

"But we're supposed to get married at a mountain lake on Saturday. Ryan planned for us to ride in."

The doctor fixed a questioning gaze on Ryan. "How far is the lake, Rye?"

"About three hours by horseback."

The doctor shook his head. "She won't be ready. Postpone for at least another week, and even then, you'll have to break up the trip, going half the distance one day and half the next." "We can do that," Ryan said. "Bethany and I can head up on Thursday, go halfway, and camp for the night. It'll be fun." She angled an arm over her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I was so excited about being on Wink again, I never even thought about getting leg cramps. I should have had better sense."

The doctor patted her hand. "It's easy to overdo. I don't ride all winter, and the first time I go riding in the spring, I hobble around for days afterward. Every single time, I swear I'll never be so stupid again, but I always am."

"You ride?"

Kirsch chuckled and winked at Ryan. "Why else do you think this bunch out here likes me so well? Keefe doesn't really trust a man unless he smells like a horse every once in a while." He turned back to Ryan. "When you ride in to the lake, take along a pint of distilled white vinegar. If she gets cramps, have her drink two shots, straight. It'll fix her right up."

"Yuck." Bethany shuddered at the thought.

"Nasty tasting and a little acidic on the tummy, but it works in a pinch."

Kirsch went on to carefully question Bethany about her accident and the resultant paralysis. When she'd answered his questions, he said, "Well, young lady, I'll look forward to seeing you again soon. I've delivered all the Kendrick babies. If Ryan has a say, I'll probably be delivering yours as well."

Bethany's face grew pale. She flicked a pained glance at Ryan. "It's very unlikely I'll be able to carry a child to term, Dr. Kirsch. Ryan and I want to try, of course, and we'll hope for the best. But my chances aren't good."

The doctor looked surprised to hear that. Very surprised. "I see," he said. "And why is that? Did you sustain internal injuries I'm unaware of?" "I, um... no. I was badly bruised, of course, but there was no permanent damage. When I had my last checkup, the gynecologist said I was fine."

"Ah. So who said you might not be able to carry a baby to term?"

"The spinal specialist who did my surgeries. He felt my risk of urinary tract and kidney infections would be extremely high, which can lead to miscarriage or preterm labor. There's also a very dangerous condition-I can't remember the name-that he said I might get." Dr. Kirch mulled that over. Ryan wondered why he was frowning so. "Have you had a history of urinary tract infections?"

Bethany shook her head.

"I see." Kirsch rubbed his chin. "The condition the doctor warned you about was probably autonomic dysreflexia." "That might've been it," she said. "It's been a long time, but I remember it was a name like that. It sounded really awful when he described it to me."

"It is pretty awful," he agreed. "It can cause serious complications at any time during pregnancy or come on during labor. However, it commonly occurs in women with an injury at or above the seventh thoracic vertebra."

"Mine's at L2. But he said there was a chance I might get it."

"What's this condition do to you?" Ryan asked.

"There can be a sharp rise in blood pressure, a severe escalation or drop in heart rate, and there's a risk of convulsions and enlargement of the heart. All in all, it's nothing to mess around with," Dr. Kirsch said solemnly. "There are ways to control it, but sometimes they fail."

"Sweet Jesus," Ryan whispered. "Something like that could kill her." He searched Bethany's face. "It's just not worth it, honey. Not with the risk of another blood clot on top of it. I'd rather we simply never try."

"What's this about a blood clot?"

Ryan quickly recounted to the doctor what Jake had told him.

"There's nothing to say I'll get the dysreflexia stuff," Bethany argued. "And I can be really careful while I'm pregnant not to get a clot. I can stay in bed most of the time with my legs up." She fixed Ryan with an accusing look. "Is that why you've been using protection every time, because of what Jake told you?" Ryan sighed. "I don't want to take any chances, Bethany. A blood clot might kill you. Jake feels it's unwise for you to get pregnant, and so do I."

She gave him a look that promised she would have a great deal to say about that decision once they were alone.

Ryan glanced at the doctor, then back at her. "We'll settle this later. All right?"

"Just remember what you said about living in a bubble or grabbing hold of life with both hands. That's how I feel about this-that trying is worth the risk."

Cold sweat popped out on Ryan's face. He stared down at her, thinking how dearly he loved her and how devastated he'd be if anything happened to her. He sure as hell didn't want a baby of their own so much that he would put her life in danger.

"I'd like to speak with your surgeon," Dr. Kirsch said. "Do I have your permission to contact him, Bethany?"

"I don't mind if you speak to him, Dr. Kirsch, but I'm sure he'll tell you exactly what he told me-that I shouldn't have children." Her eyes darkened. "He even went so far as to say he felt it was a blessing because a woman in a wheelchair has no business having babies, anyway."

"Hmm." Kirsch shook his head. "What's this doctor's name?"

"Dr. Reicherton. He's up in Portland. You probably don't know him."

"As a matter of fact, I do. We doctors run into each other more often than you might think. Medical conventions and such. Benson Reicherton." He smiled and nodded. "He's a competent surgeon, one of the best on the West Coast." "Daddy wanted the best," she said. "He was told we couldn't find better than Dr. Reicherton. I never liked him, but he seemed to know his stuff."

Again Kirsch nodded. "Ben's very good. If I had a spinal cord injury and surgery was recommended, I wouldn't hesitate to have him as my doctor. I'd walk a mile to avoid having him as a golfing buddy, though."

Bethany laughed and then suddenly yawned. "You do know him."

Dr. Kirsch smiled and winked at her. "I do, at that." He pushed to his feet and collected his bag. "I see that the shot is making you drowsy, young lady, so I'll take my leave and let you rest." He leveled a finger at her nose. "No riding tomorrow. I have a ten o'clock tee time, and if this overprotective fellow of yours calls me off the course over leg cramps, I'll be cranky as a bear."

Ryan followed the doctor from the bedroom. Once at the front of the house, Kirsch scratched his balding gray head. His silver eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful frown. "Something about this doesn't add up. Let me check into it. I'll try to get in touch with Reicherton when I get back to the office."

"You think she can have babies, don't you?"

The doctor glanced toward the hallway. "I don't advise you to tell her that, not until I'm sure. I wouldn't want to give her false hope and then disappoint her. I'm certainly no spinal specialist."

"You're a damned good doctor, though, and I trust your opinion."

The physician smiled. "Thank you. In answer to your question, for what my opinion's worth, this damned good doctor thinks the young lady either misunderstood what she was told or Reicherton gave her incorrect information. Paralysis doesn't generally affect a woman's ability to carry a child, especially not in a case like hers, where the nerve damage is incomplete."

It seemed pretty damned complete to Ryan. "How do you mean?"

"It's a term we use for a spinal cord injury that kills or impairs only some of the nerves. You can take a dozen individuals with a spinal cord injury at the same level and see a dozen different results. Some people may have partial use of their limbs or have feeling where others don't. With an L2 injury like hers ..." His voice trailed away. "I don't think it should have any bearing on her ability to have children, and unless I'm completely misinformed, there's little or no risk of autonomic dysreflexia. But let me check into it. Could be I'm just an old country doctor who doesn't know beans." He lifted his hand in farewell and stepped out onto the porch. "I'll be in touch."

"What about the blood clot thing?" Ryan asked anxiously.

Kirsch sighed. "I think we can work around that problem. They have some very nice wheelchairs now with adjustable, comfortably cushioned leg rests, kind of like small recliners on wheels, enabling the user to put her feet up whenever the chair is stationary. I also think we can keep the blood thin enough to reduce the danger of clotting without harming the baby."

After bidding the physician farewell and closing the door, Ryan went to check on Bethany. The muscle relaxant had indeed made her drowsy, and she was already asleep. He sat beside her for a while, gazing at her sweet face. The drug had put her so deeply under that her mouth was lax, and a bead of drool glistened on her bottom lip. He smiled and thumbed it away, his heart squeezing at the thought of anything happening to her.

An hour later when Doctor Kirsch phoned back, Ryan took the call in the kitchen. "What did Reicherton say, Doc?"

"A lot of nothing. Basically, this is my take. No doctor can guarantee even a perfectly healthy young woman that she'll be able to bear children. The chance that she'll have problems may be minuscule, but it always exists. The odds against her successfully carrying a child increase substantially if she has special problems or the propensity to have them. That being the case, I won't go so far as to say that Reicherton actually lied to Bethany. However, I do believe he mentioned unlikely complications for a woman with an L2 injury." "Why?" Ryan whispered. "Sweet Lord, why?" "That's a very good question. I keep circling back to his comment to her-that a woman in a wheelchair has no business having babies. I've known Ben for a number of years. I distinctly recall his telling me once that he went into his field because his mother was a quadriplegic." "How does that relate to what he told Bethany?" "I'm walking a very fine line here, Ryan. I don't want to speculate and malign the man's professional reputation. As we were speaking on the phone, it occurred to me that perhaps-and I stress the word perhaps-his childhood was a difficult one because his mother was severely handicapped. Maybe he hates to see any woman in a wheelchair try to raise children. I only know he said nothing over the phone to justify what Bethany claims he told her. He hemmed and hawed. He pointed out that it's been a number of years, and he didn't have her file in front of him. But essentially he agreed with my prognosis, that unless there are other complications, a woman with an injury at L2 who is continent and has no history of urinary tract infections should be able to bear children without difficulty. Worst case, she may have to deliver by C-section."

A picture of Bethany sobbing her heart out in the van the other night flashed through Ryan's mind, and he closed his eyes, feeling sick. Never any babies, she'd cried. Why in God's name had the doctor told her such a vicious lie? Granted, maybe some handicapped women were unable to be good mothers because of their disabilities, but each case was different, and it hadn't been Reicherton's call to make.

"Ryan? You still there?"

"I'm here," Ryan said softly. "Just trying to absorb this. That's all. That girl in there has gone for eight years believing she might never have children. It makes me want to drive nonstop to Portland and rearrange Reicherton's face."

"I'm only guessing. Bear that in mind. And forgive me if it sounds pompous, but I think belated anger over something we can never prove would be fruitless. Why ruin what should be a happy time for both of you? You obviously adore this girl. Enjoy this very special time in your lives."