A Week From Sunday by Dorothy Garlock Page B

about her reminded him of one of his teachers at school, although he noted that she looked like she hadn’t done a hard day’s work in her life. She might even be kind of snooty. He couldn’t stop a smile from curling his lips at the thought of her playing the piano at the Whipsaw.
    Before Lola could continue her fussing, Quinn interjected. “I’ve got to get going. Somebody make sure Cowboy gets out a time or two during the day. Poor fella is probably chomping at the bit to get outdoors.”
    “He doesn’t mind me at all,” Lola said.
    “If you kicked me,” Jesse spat, “I wouldn’t mind you either.”
    “I didn’t kick him, honey,” Lola explained weakly, trying to lay the sweetness on thickly. “I was just pushing him away with my foot. All I wanted was to move him out of the way.”
    “Bullshit!” Jesse blurted out, stifling Lola. As soon as he swore, Jesse glanced at Adrianna. She showed no reaction to the crude language and continued eating her toast.
    Quinn stepped in and moved Jesse’s wheelchair up close to the table. He then leaned down to say softly, “You better watch your language, Bucko. We’ve got a lady in the house.” Turning to Adrianna, he added, “I’ll be off now. You and Jesse can figure something out, I suppose. Maybe you could help him with his schoolwork.”
    “I’d like that,” Adrianna said, flashing a wide smile. “What grade are you in, Jesse?”
    “I just finished the tenth grade,” he muttered.
    “Do you have any books? Have the teachers given you any assignments?”
    “Yeah, I have a couple that my teacher brought me,” he said a little louder. He straightened up a bit in his wheelchair and looked directly at Adrianna. “But she’s only been here a couple of times. Like everyone else, she thinks I’m a lost cause.”
    “Well, I sure don’t think that way. As long as you have your wits about you, and it certainly seems to me that you do, you can do anything you set your mind to.”
    “Yeah . . . I guess so.”
    Quinn stood at the door listening to the conversation. Maybe Miss High-Toned Moore had more gumption than he’d given her credit for. Smiling, he slammed his hat down on his head and went out the door.
     

 

    Chapter 10

    A DRIANNA STRAIGHTENED HER shoulders and, taking a deep breath, rapped lightly on Jesse’s door before opening it and going inside. Propped up in his bed, he looked over the top of his magazine before going back to his tales of organized crime and pirates. Cowboy lay on the bed, enjoying the way his master’s hand absently scratched behind his ears. As Adrianna came farther into the room, the dog gave a low growl from deep in his throat. Giving him a quick glance, she walked across the room and threw open the shades.
    “Do you mind a little light?” she asked over her shoulder.
    “Would you care if I did?” the boy retorted.
    “Of course I would.” She smiled warmly. “I’m here to help, not to tell you what to do.”
    “You can’t do anything to help, ’cause I’ve got these useless legs.”
    “Maybe they’re not as useless as you think.”
    “Oh, I get it,” the boy said with a crinkle of his nose. He finally closed the magazine and tossed it onto the heap on the bed. “So you’re one of those, huh?”
    Confused, Adrianna asked, “One of what?”
    “You’re one of those women who goes around spreading sunshine and light.” He folded his arms across his chest and said, “You don’t know everything. You don’t know nothin’ ’bout me.”
    A part of Adrianna found Jesse’s attitude a bit amusing, but she knew she couldn’t dare laugh at the boy. Matter-of-factly, she said, “I admit I don’t know everything. But if there’s one thing I do know it’s that if you don’t help yourself, you’ll sit in that chair for the rest of your life.
You
are the only person that can change that.”
    “How in the hell can I do that?”
    “That’s what we need to find out. It’s different for each person. But