iN THE HILL COUNTRY NORTH OF SAN Antonio, where the Texas flats give way to rocky bluffs of mesquite scrub, juniper, and live oak, Marco and Pauline Waterreus found their dream house. It was a roomy, wood-beamed ranch with horse sheds in back–the ideal place to put down roots with their four freckle-faced boys and growing menagerie of goats, horses, dogs, cats, hamsters, bunnies, and fish. Now that they were settled, Marco was preparing to leave his civilian job at Kelly Air Force Base and expand his own business as an architectural landscaper. He and Pauline were in love, and life was good. That was in January 1996.
A year later, their dream was history.
One day in November while tinkering with his lawn mower, Marco had trouble loosening a bolt with his left hand. Two months later, he started to limp. Pauline, a nurse,
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