time, and turned to Isaac. “And who is this young man?”
“I’m Isaac.”
“No way. Isaac Larsen’s a little guy about this tall.” Paul demonstrated by holding out his hand.
“Grandpa says I’m growing like a weed,” Isaac offered, setting aside the sticker books.
“Your grandpa’s right about that. Are you taking good care of your mom?” Paul asked, offering his hand to Isaac.
“Yup.” Isaac accepted the handshake and gazed up at him. “I feed our dog and help bring in eggs from the chicken coop. Me and my dad used to do that, but he died.”
Annie’s breath caught in her throat.
“I know.” Paul’s tone was solemn. “I still miss him.”
Listening to their exchange made Annie’s chest tighten. Although they hadn’t seen much of Paul in person, she had known he and Eric kept in touch, mostly by email and the occasional phone call. Of course Paul would miss him. After the funeral she should have done a better job of staying in touch.
“So, tell me about horseback riding.” Paul took a seat on a wheeled stool that brought him to eye level with her son.
“Auntie CJ’s giving me riding lessons.”
“That’s pretty cool. English or western.”
“Western.” Isaac’s enthusiasm was contagious. “I’m gonna be barrel racing at the junior rodeo and when I’m bigger I’m gonna be a real cowboy.”
Paul laughed, then exchanged a quick smile with Annie before he turned his attention back to her son. “What’s your horse’s name?”
“Zephyr.”
“Good name for a horse.”
Annie forced herself to stop hovering and took the chair next to CJ, who was rolling her eyes.
What? Annie mouthed.
CJ placed a hand over her heart and pretended to swoon, and it was Annie’s turn for an eye roll. Behave!
“Can you tell me what happened this morning when you were riding Zephyr?” Paul asked.
“I fell off.”
“You did? Is Zephyr a bucking bronco?”
Isaac giggled again. “Nope. But I’m gonna ride one when I’m a grown-up cowboy.”
Over my dead body, Annie thought.
“Were you wearing a helmet?” Paul asked.
Isaac nodded.
“Good.” Paul pulled a small instrument out of his pocket. “This is a flashlight.” He demonstrated by pressing on it and generating a beam of light. “I want you to look right at me so I can take a look at your eyes. Can you do that for me?”
“Yup.”
“Good job,” he said, slipping the penlight back in his pocket. “Pupils dilating just the way we like them to.”
Annie knew his comments were more for her benefit than her son’s. She appreciated his thoughtfulness even while she ignored CJ’s I-told-you-so elbow jab.
Paul held out his hands, palms up. “Now I need to see if you’re strong enough to be a cowboy. Can you press down on my hands as hard as you can?”
Isaac enthusiastically demonstrated his superhuman strength, repeating the test by pressing up, out and in against Paul’s hands. He laughed when one foot and then the other swung involuntarily in response to a tap to the knee with a little rubber hammer.
“Dude, have you been working out? Lifting weights?” Paul asked. “Training for the Olympics?”
“Nope. I help my grandpa, though. He has a wheelchair and he lets me push him around sometimes.”
“How’s your grandpa doing?” Paul looked to Annie for an answer as he ran both hands along her son’s arms, then gently flexed them at the wrist, elbow and shoulder.
“He rides horses, too,” Isaac said before she had a chance to answer.
Clearly surprised, Paul looked to Annie for confirmation.
“He’s amazing,” Annie said. “And yes, he rides. CJ runs a therapeutic riding program at the farm. Our dad was her test case and now he helps with the kids from time to time.”
“Kids with disabilities often lead sheltered lives,” CJ said, jumping into the conversation. “Seeing a man get from wheelchair to horseback and canter around the ring can be a real eye-opener for them. And for their parents, who can sometimes be a little overprotective.”
“No doubt,” Paul said. “Good to know about your program, too. Do you take referrals?”
CJ grinned. “You bet I do.”
Annie watched as Paul had Isaac lie back on the exam table and flex his legs while he talked to CJ. Apparently all checked out there as well.
“Can you sit up for me, champ? Good stuff. Now, do you remember how you landed when you fell?”
Isaac pointed to his left shoulder.
Paul turned to CJ. “Where was he riding? In a field, on a gravel road?”
“Oh, no. I give lessons in a covered arena. The floor has a thick layer of wood chips.”
“So you had a pretty soft landing,” he said to Isaac. “Can you peel off your T-shirt so I can take a look at that shoulder?”
Paul didn’t offer assistance, and Annie had to resist the urge to jump up and help. Instead, he closely watched Isaac’s movements as he bent and twisted and wriggled his way out of the shirt. Paul popped the earpieces of his stethoscope into his ears and held up the chest piece.
“Do you know what this is for?” he asked.
“Listening to hearts.”
“That’s right. I can hear what’s going on inside your lungs, too.” He reached behind Isaac, ran the tip of a finger along her son’s shoulder blade as he did. “Can you take a big, deep breath and hold it for me?”
Isaac’s narrow chest swelled.
“Good, that’s it. Now breathe out.”
Isaac let out a whoosh.
Paul moved the stethoscope. “Again.”
After several repetitions, he draped the stethoscope around his neck and examined her son’s shoulder more closely before he turned to Annie.
“You have a healthy little cowboy here. No sign of concussion, no broken bones. Even a hairline fracture would be causing some pain. He has the makings of a dandy bruise
