Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Jewel's hand trembled as she reached for the syringe, her fingers grazing the cold metal of the tray. A wave of dizziness washed over her, blurring the edges of the stable into a hazy mirage. The expensive thoroughbred before her, worth more than most people's homes, nickered restlessly, sensing something amiss.
"Easy, boy," she murmured, fighting the vertigo that threatened to topple her. Her skin was clammy despite the Texas heat, and each joint in her body screamed with an invisible fire.
"Dr. Jenkins?" The ranch hand's voice sounded distant, but his hand on her arm was insistent. "You don't look so good."
"I'm fine," Jewel lied through gritted teeth. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not with her reputation for being one of the best equine veterinarians in the state. But her protest was cut short as a sharp pain lanced through her skull, sending spots dancing before her eyes.
"Oh my God, you cannot touch my precious baby like that. Look at you! You're shaking worse than that dancer my ex ran off with. Step away from my baby."
The woman strode down the spacious, airy barn with golden highlights flying behind her like she was in some kind of damn hair commercial. Her eyes blazed with fire—part worry, part bitchiness—and Jewel struggled to rein her temper in.
Her shaking hand lowered as she stroked the horse's flank and met the woman's gaze with chin lifted and cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry, but do you or do you not want the cortisone shot today?"
The woman glared and came to a stop, crossing her arms and making her shirt sparkle in the late afternoon sunlight. "I do. It has to be today, or he won't be able to compete in the next race."
Jewel pasted on a bland expression and waved to the horse, silently asking if she could proceed. The woman's eyes narrowed at Jewel's hand, still shaking.
"Not you. Call in one of the other vets to come do it." The woman's hands went to her side, and Jewel recognized a tantrum boiling, but—like with her own daughter—was at a loss on how to stop it.
The ranch foreman stepped out from behind the other ranch hand, his sun-weathered face tipped in a severe frown. "I'll handle it, Mizz. Dr. Jenkinz? Will you come with me?"
He led the way behind the woman, who stepped up to the horse and crooned softly, ignoring Jewel now. Jewel put the cap back on the syringe and settled everything into her bag. Her shoulders shook as she walked weakly down the aisle, embarrassed like she hadn't been since vet school a decade ago.
She walked with head held high and exited the barn. The foreman was lighting a cigarette and leaning against the outer wall. She stepped closer to him, the shade welcoming and cool.
"You can't argue with the mizzus, Dr. Jenkinz. She's too high-strung to be reasonable."
Jewel sighed, knowing this client's history with the clinic. She'd already gone through four other vets at their practice. "I understand that, but I'm just trying to do my job."
He looked up at her with a critical eye. "We both know that horse doesn't need more corazón shots. He's about done on the circuit."
She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched, the pops loud to her ears even as she smiled at his use of the wrong word. "I know. He needs stem cell therapy, rest, and a recovery time greater than she allows."
He nodded and took a drag on his cigarette. "You go on and leave like she said. Call for another doctor. It gives more time for the old horse to recover. And if there are no doctors available, zen it is better for the horse, yes?"
He walked toward her truck, his voice firm and brooking no argument. She knew the foreman had the complete trust of the owner, the woman's new husband.
Her legs threatened to buckle as she opened the truck door, chin high as she eased onto the leather seats with a grunt. Jewel closed her eyes against the light that seemed to pierce straight into her brain. Sweat beaded her brow as she slipped on her sunglasses and backed up.
As she drove away from the sprawling ranch, tears pricked her eyes. It felt like she'd been fired, but the way her whole body ached, she knew something was wrong. Maybe the sixth doctor's appointment tomorrow would provide the answers she needed.
She focused on regulating her breathing, trying to muster the facade of normalcy she would need to maintain once home. She would tell Destini she had a migraine, a simple explanation that wouldn't worry the bright-eyed teenager too much.
Anxiety knotted her stomach at the thought of alarming her teenage daughter. Destini was currently obsessed with her science fair project and the prospect of glory at school. Jewel couldn't bear to puncture that bubble with her own health concerns.
She pulled up to her modest home, far removed from the opulence of the horses she treated. She dragged herself to lean heavily against the front door, the keys in her hand blurring together as she searched for the correct one, her body betraying her once more with a shudder.
"Mom?" Destini's voice called from inside, laced with excitement and anticipation as she threw open the door. "I've got so much to tell you about my project!"
"Can't wait to hear all about it, sweetheart," Jewel replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil roiling within her. "Just give me an hour to lie down, then you can tell me all about it while I make dinner."
"Sure, Mom. Rough day today?" Destini chirped, bouncing on her toes as she shut and locked the door behind her.
"A migraine."
"Another one? Geez, it's like a constant thing now."
Jewel mumbled under her breath, "Tell me about it." Destini didn't hear, going back into the dining room where the project supplies were strewn about, popping her earbuds back in and humming along.
Jewel slipped up the stairs, her heart heavy with secrets as she made her way to her bedroom, desperate for respite from the relentless assault of whatever was fucking up her body. It'd been almost a year, and it was getting worse, not better.
A few weeks later, Jewel clenched the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she navigated out of the bustling greater-Houston traffic. Each movement sent tremors of pain through her joints, but the weight of the diagnosis was heavier still. The doctor's words echoed in her mind: "I'm quite certain it's Lyme disease."
After months of uncertainty and visits to multiple doctors, the validation should have been a relief. It could be something way worse, but as she merged onto the highway leading north to Dallas, it felt like an anchor sinking her. Now she had to see a specialist hours away when she was already on thin ice with her bosses.
The drive was long, the landscape shifting from urban sprawl to open fields that reminded her of the ranch and the horses she cared for—creatures whose livelihoods depended on her expertise. She considered the irony that it was while working outdoors with these majestic animals that she had probably been bitten by the tiny tick responsible for her pain.
She didn't dare tell Destini, who was safely spending the night with her cousins, engrossed in the regional science fair preparations. She'd excitedly won the school's competition and now advanced.
Jewel didn't confide in her family in Crimson Creek, either. This journey was hers alone to navigate; she wasn't ready to reveal her vulnerability to them just yet.
Upon arriving in Dallas, she found herself in yet another sterile office, this one adorned with plaques boasting holistic approaches to healing. Dr. Marcus, the specialist, was a gentle man with a reassuring presence. He spoke of major life changes with a calm certainty that made them seem possible, even hopeful.
"Your body is fighting a persistent invader," he explained. "We need to support it in every way we can. That means dietary changes, activity changes, even product changes in your home. We're going to load you up on anti-inflammatory foods—leafy greens, fatty fish, berries. And probiotics are key after so many rounds of antibiotics."
He handed her pamphlets filled with guidelines and recipes, then continued. "You'll also start a regimen of supplements and herbs known to support immune function and combat Lyme-related inflammation. Perhaps the most important ingredient to healing is stress management. Have you ever tried meditation or yoga?"
Jewel nodded automatically, though in truth, she didn't have time for any of this crap. The holistic side was the antithesis to everything she'd learned in medical school too. The stakes were too high not to embrace every potential solution, though. She noted everything down meticulously, aware that these changes were not mere suggestions but prescriptions for a new way of life.
Dr. Marcus added, "Regular visits here will be necessary so we can monitor your progress closely. I know it's a long drive, but your health must be your priority now. If you don't put in the work now, it could seriously affect your quality of life permanently."
His words echoed in the small room, reminiscent of the doctor in Houston who'd finally given her the diagnosis.
She agreed, knowing the truth in his words, even as a part of her rebelled against the upheaval looming on the horizon. Driving back to Houston later that same day after an extended break at Buc-ees, Jewel felt the gravity of the journey ahead—a path that would test her resolve, redefine her relationship with food, and force her to explore the unfamiliar terrain of holistic healing. But she was ready to fight for her health, for Destini, and for the chance to reclaim the life that Lyme disease threatened to steal away.
Months passed, and here she was again. Jewel's hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening as Houston's skyline finally came into view. The sun was dipping low, casting a warm glow over the city—her home for the past decade—but now, it seemed less welcoming, more daunting.
She had returned from yet another trip to Dallas with a new arsenal: bottles of supplements, bags of organic produce, and a new yoga mat strapped to the backseat.
In the past few months, Jewel's life became a cadence of careful routines and self-discipline. She swapped coffee for green tea and CBD mushroom coffee, and her meals were now a colorful canvas of vegetables and lean proteins.
Her phone, once filled with veterinary journal articles, now had apps for meditation and reminders for yoga classes. Her favorite—and not so favorite—ranch clients saw less of her, as she spent more hours in the office, pouring over case files rather than tending to the horses she adored.
Yet another visit to Dr. Marcus in Dallas tipped the scales. With each trip, the familiarity of the city tugged at her more strongly, whispering promises of a community and a slower pace that could cradle her healing journey. "You're responding well," he said, his voice tinged with both approval and concern. "But you must consider your environment. Stress, exposure—it all plays a role, especially if you're going back to the same area you were exposed. Any infection must be treated quickly and without mercy."
The words echoed in her mind on the drive back, harmonizing with the hum of the tires against the highway. As the landscape changed, so did her resolve. The vast Texas skies gave way to the closer buildings and tighter traffic, her stress and shoulders rising as she gripped the steering wheel.
The Woodlands were no longer her safe retreat, her home. These trips had allowed her to see beyond her current struggles and truly evaluate her life goals and plans. It wasn't just about proximity to medical care; it was about creating a sanctuary for herself, somewhere her body wouldn't constantly be on the defensive.
"Time for a new chapter," Jewel murmured to herself, her eyes tracing the horizon where city lights faded into the countryside. She envisioned the rolling hills near Crimson Creek, the gentle neighing of horses, and family dinners not confined to holiday gatherings.
She'd always planned to move back home after Destini moved out and went to college, but maybe they could both use a fresh start. In the past year, Destini had become so intensely obsessed with NASA that it bordered on the unhealthy. She'd stopped playing soccer and spending time with her friends. Perhaps she needed a change too, to remind her of what was truly important in life.
The decision settled over her like a gentle rain, refreshing and clear. Moving back to Crimson Creek wouldn't just bring her closer to Dr. Marcus; it would take her out of the Lyme-infected area that seemed to be a constant threat, lurking beneath every leaf and blade of grass.
Jewel allowed herself a small smile as she pulled into the clinic's parking lot, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. The road ahead was long, and the thought of uprooting wasn't without its pangs of sadness. But there was also hope—a hope that perhaps among the verdant fields and wide-open spaces of Northern Texas, health and happiness awaited her.
She sighed as she hopped out. She just needed to grab the stack of paperwork she needed to log, then she'd head home to spend time with Destini. Their habit the past few months was to watch a movie while Jewel loaded information into the computer system.
The fluorescent lights of the veterinary clinic hummed a monotonous tune, a stark contrast to the vibrant life Jewel was accustomed to outside. She went into her little office—even after eight years here, still the smallest of all eleven—and grabbed the inbox stack from the corner of her desk.
As she stepped down the long hall of the offices, a head popped out of the doorway at the end. "Ah, there you are. I wondered when you'd be back. Come join me for a moment, won't you?"
Standing before her boss's mahogany desk, nerves ran up her spine. It was always like being called to the principal's office, and she didn't like it. She was perfectly fine talking with him on the other side of the building where they saw patients or even outside where they were working in the field. They had a decent enough relationship, but there was something about his office that set the hair on the back of her neck to standing.
Dr. Bailey rounded his desk and sank into his plush leather seat, setting it to squeak softly. "How was your day off? Are you feeling better?"
She frowned and sank into the chair in front of his desk, rubbing her hands down her jeans. "It's a long road to recovery, but I do believe the changes have been good for me. I feel stronger every day and can't wait to get back in the field."
"I'm glad to hear it, very glad," he said, his voice softening as he woke up his laptop and glanced down at it with squinty eyes. The reflection of the screen hit his glasses, but she couldn't make out what he was looking at.
"We heard from our insurance company though, and there are some concerns," he began, his voice measured but firm. The creases in his forehead deepened with concern as he peered over at her. "Fieldwork is too risky, considering your health. They won't continue to insure us if you remain part of the practice."
"Risky? Remain ?" Jewel's voice cracked, a mixture of disbelief and anger rising in her throat. She braced herself against the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening. "I'm not a liability to anyone. Lyme doesn't work like that."
"Jewel, you are a liability out there. Remember a few months ago when you couldn't even give a cortisone shot, you were so weak?" His words were a gut punch, stripping away her pretenses of normalcy. "We can't have you collapsing on a client's property and the payout for your health insurance is growing. If you remain here, you'll be limited to office duty only."
"Office duty!" She spat out the words as if they were poison. "You're benching me because I got sick from a damn tick bite?"
"Take some time. Think about what you need," he said, ignoring her outburst. "For your own sake."
She stormed out of the room, her hands gripping the folders tightly and her mind a whirlwind of frustration and resentment. The door slammed behind her with a finality that echoed her inner turmoil.
Arriving home, Jewel's agitation met an unexpected match. Destini stood in the middle of the living room, her eyes alight with excitement, oblivious to the storm cloud that was her mother.
"Mom! You won't believe it—I got the job at NASA camp as a counselor!" Destini beamed, holding out the acceptance letter like a trophy.
"Great," Jewel replied flatly, the word tasting bitter on her tongue as she dropped her bags in the foyer.
"Is something wrong?" Destini's smile faltered, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
"Wrong?" Jewel's voice rose, a crescendo of all the unspoken struggles she'd been shouldering. "I'm being put out to pasture at work because of my health, even though I've bent over backwards for this company."
"Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry." Destini's expression crumbled, concern flashing across her features. "What are you going to do? Were you fired?"
Jewel dropped her bags of supplements and supplies in the foyer and sank onto the couch, rubbing her temples as tears dripped down her cheeks. "No, I wasn't fired. They're saying I'm too much of a liability to insure anymore."
Destini sat on the couch next to her, and Jewel wiped her eyes. "Why?" her darling daughter asked softly, fear tinging her voice. "What exactly is wrong with you, Mom? Are you—what is it?"
Jewel sighed and threw her arm along the back of the couch in a familiar invitation. Destini snuggled closer, resting her head on Jewel's shoulder like she'd done when she was little. It'd been so long since her independent, headstrong girl had relied on her. Jewel's heart ached at the familiar feeling.
She wasn't ready for her daughter to grow up, but she was fifteen. There were only a few more years at home, then she'd fly the coop. She kissed her daughter's curly blond hair, pulled up in a messy bun nearly identical to Jewel's own, and wrapped her arms around her with a sigh.
"It's just a lingering infection from a tick I picked up at work," Jewel said softly, holding her teenager close. "I'll be fine. It's just taking longer than expected to find solutions that will reverse the damage."
"That's why you've been seeing the specialist in Dallas?" she asked hesitantly. Jewel's lips pursed as she nodded. Her cousin must've spilled that information in the past few months. If Jewel got caught in the city and couldn't get home, she had her cousin and his wife on standby to get Destini after school.
"Let me run you a bath," Destini said, pulling away. "It always makes you feel better."
Jewel grabbed Destini's hand, making her stop. She stared up at her beautiful, vivacious daughter who looked so much like her father.
Jewel's eyes teared up again, and she smiled. "I'm excited about your summer camp, Nini. I'm proud of you."
Destini's hazel eyes softened, and she patted Jewel's hand. "Thanks, Mom. I'm really excited. Want me to make your mushroom hot chocolate too?"
Jewel nodded and leaned back against the couch. "Yeah, that'd be great. I'll just stay in for an hour, then we can watch a movie together?"
Destini brightened. "And order pizza?"
Jewel grinned. "Sure." But Destini was already pumping her hand in the air, screaming yes as she took the stairs two at a time to start the bath.
While she soaked, Jewel called her other cousin in Crimson Creek to ask her if her boss truly could fire her or keep her restricted to the offices because of insurance. As a lawyer, Goldie would look into it and get back to her.
Then she'd called Gemma and spilled everything. Gemma had listened, then quietly said, "You know the solution is to finally move up here, right? We won't cancel your fucking insurance or keep you from doing your job. Lyme doesn't work like that. You'd think a clinic as big as that one would know that."
Jewel had snorted and relaxed, ending the call and sipping her drink as she contemplated what to do. Summer was going to start in a week, then Destini would have that camp. She only got excited these days about NASA and science. It wasn't healthy to have such a singular obsession, surely.
Moving to Crimson Creek would mean leaving behind the prestige of her current position, but wasn't her health worth more than any title? And Destini, vibrant and ambitious—perhaps a new environment could bring them closer, repair the fractures that had begun to split their bond, since Jewel had been trying to get her to stop stressing about NASA and go enjoy life.
Destini had turned her down on so many outings this past year, choosing to stay inside and study instead of going to the mall or the botanical gardens, one of their favorite places to relax.
Not for the first time, her mind wandered to the conversation last fall that had started this wall between the two of them. Destini had wanted to go to a dance, but the chaperones were all the dads. She'd asked again about her father, and Jewel had admitted that her dad was a good man but didn't know about her. Destini had gotten mad, raging at her for keeping them apart.
It wasn't the first time one of them had slammed the bedroom door, and it wouldn't be the last.
She finished her drink and let out a long, determined exhale. The decision seemed to crystalize with the cooling of the bathwater, and as she pulled the plug, watching the soapy whirlpool swirl down the drain, Jewel felt a sense of resolve.
If they moved to Crimson Creek, Destini would have a chance to know her father… and Jewel would have the chance to find out which of the two Williams' brothers actually gave her daughter her brilliant mind and beautiful eyes.
Jewel rose from the bath, wrapping herself in a towel, her spirit not as frayed as before. She was determined to talk to Destini about moving tonight, before she lost her nerve. Crimson Creek wasn't just a destination; it was a beacon of hope, a chance to heal and rebuild.