Arcadia's Gift(66)

“There goes my college scholarships,” he muttered.
I wasn’t sure if he meant it as a poor attempt at humor or not, but he spoke the truth. Not only did Cane play football, but he also ran track and was the school star pitcher on the baseball team. Everyone assumed he would end up going to a Big Ten school on a sports scholarship. Some people even had hopes for him playing professionally someday. From the looks of things, that dream was over.
I placed my hand over the knee and felt around with my senses. Cold stabs of pain flicked my palms. “It’s pretty bad, but I can’t fix it like this. We have to get it straight first.”
Cane’s eyes got round as he realized the pain that would be involved with setting the leg.
I wasn’t sure I could fix it. I didn’t even know how exactly I’d managed to heal Bryan. But I had to try. I had to ignore my weak, trembling body and try.
My hands ran across the cool ground until I found a broken branch. I snapped off the end and dusted the loose dirt away.
“Put this between your teeth,” I instructed Cane. “Aaron, can you give me a hand?”
My brother knelt down by Cane’s feet.
“When I say so, I want you to take hold of his ankle and pull that leg straight.” Amazingly, my brother didn’t question my authority, just gritted his teeth in sympathy, and clutched Cane’s ankle with both hands.
“You want to set his broken leg?” Monica shrieked, then turning to Cane, “And you’re going to let her?”
Bryan set his hand on her shoulder and murmured something about calming down.
I looked at Cane and asked, “Well? Are you going to let me try? I can’t guarantee anything, but it’s your decision.”
Cane’s chest was rising and falling so rapidly, I was afraid he’d hyperventilate. His fear caused my palms to sweat and the muscles to tighten in my limbs.
“I-I saw what you did...to him,” his eyes flitted over toward Bryan face still pale, but from what we could tell, looked to be healed. Cane turned his gaze back to me, trying to focus through his pain. “I tr-trust you.”
“Okay, then,” I said sliding closer. “You have to force yourself to relax, Cane, or I’m not going to be able to help you.” I stroked the golden hair out of his eyes and placed the stick in his mouth. “Close your eyes and think about something calm. I mean it. I need you to do this for me. Think about a warm beach with rolling waves or something.”
“I’ll try,” he grunted around the stick in his mouth and closed his eyes.
Sending Cane to his happy place didn’t really flood me with the calmness I needed, but it did seem to take the edge off of his fear.
“You too,” I said to Aaron. “I need you feeling calm. Think about the beach. I mean really picture yourself there.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, all right?” I snapped.
I took a couple of deep breaths to clear my head and then placed my hands over the leg again. The cold pain reached up for my fingers, and I felt around with my senses, letting them lap the edges of the pain until I could get a mental picture of the damage inside. When I had a good handle on what I was dealing with, I ramped up my concentration, drawing power from somewhere deep in my soul. My abdomen tightened and my own pain flared behind my eyes.
“Aaron, now!”
Aaron yanked on the leg and turned it straight. Cane screamed in agony, dropping the stick. At the same time, I pushed with my determination and felt the heat tearing down my arms and out through my fingertips. I flooded the nerves with as much energy as I could to fight off the pain. Cool sweat beaded on my forehead from exertion as the tissue and bone wound its way back into place. My head spun dizzily, and I felt myself detaching from my body as if I were slipping into a dream. When I couldn’t sustain the force anymore, I let go, sending the heat snapping back into me. This time, I collapsed.






 
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Chapter 25


The persistent pain of a jack-hammer behind my eyes pulled me back to consciousness. In my bedroom, the soft light of morning filtered through my curtains bathing the bed in a rose-colored glow. I tried to stretch my tight muscles, but every part of my body ached.
I blinked to clear my vision, foggy from the migraine. Beside me, Monica dozed, dressed in a pair of my pajamas. Flashes of the night before came back to me, but all I could think about was my desperate need for anything to kill the pounding in my head. I was wearing a long t-shirt and no pants, and I wondered if Monica had gotten stuck changing me out of the bloody dress.