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Lyn had just picked up Rob from work and was driving the car. Kristen had been sitting between them in the front seat, all of their seat belts securely fastened. They’d been talking. Laughing. And then Lyn turned onto a narrow street with a guardrail. The grille of a semitruck filled their view, followed by the sickening thunder of the crash. No time to react. No time to move.
Now Lyn closed her eyes tight, absorbing the memory as though it had just happened. If only she’d swerved and missed the oncoming truck. Maybe if she’d hit the brakes sooner. Or taken a different route. Anything to have changed the outcome.
Losing Rob had stolen all the joy in their lives. That night had been the last time they’d laughed together or felt genuinely happy.
The last time Lyn had prayed.
Filled with gloomy thoughts, she got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side to help Kristen. Again, the girl brushed aside Lyn’s hands.
“I’ll do it myself,” the girl grumbled.
Lyn stood back, waiting nearby in case Kristen stumbled. An ocean of hurt separated them. Lyn wondered if they’d ever be close again.
Kristen hobbled toward the doctor’s office. With each wrenching step, the foot of her cumbersome prosthesis smacked the cement sidewalk like a club. Lyn had to keep herself from flinching at the horrible sound. She followed close by, wishing Kristen would use her wheelchair more. But the girl refused. Lyn held her arms outstretched to catch Kristen in case she fell.
Inside the small office, Kristen plopped down onto a cushioned chair. An older man sat across from them, his denim shirt accented by a turquoise bolo tie. Twin streaks of gray marred his straight black hair. Parted in the middle, the long strands flowed past his shoulders, ornamented by a single white-and-gray feather. He held a beat-up cowboy hat in his leathery hands. Though he showed no expression on his tanned face, his intelligent black eyes gazed at them with unwavering frankness. The wide bridge of his nose and high cheekbones clarified his heritage. A proud American Indian. Probably Shoshone. Lyn knew they had a tribe here in Stokely.
Ignoring the man’s piercing gaze, Lyn stepped over to the front counter and spoke to the receptionist. “I’m Lyn Warner. My daughter has an appointment at three-thirty.”
“Yes, welcome. I’m Maya, and we’ve been expecting you.” The matronly woman smiled, her rosy cheeks plumping. She swept a waterfall of straight black hair away from her face before handing Lyn a clipboard with papers attached. Maya also appeared to be of Shoshone heritage. “If you’ll just fill out this information, I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”
Picking up a pen, Lyn sat beside Kristen and started writing. She was vaguely aware of Maya calling to the elderly man sitting across from them. He stood quietly and went to the counter to retrieve a bottle of pills.
“You take one of these every morning, Billie. And just so you know, I’m gonna call your wife to make sure you do. Helen will tell me if you’re on your medication or not.” Maya’s voice sounded thick with warning.
Billie grunted a derogative reply. The pills rattled in the bottle as he shoved them into a pocket of his blue jeans. As he passed by to leave, he stared straight ahead, speaking not a single word. The epitome of dignity and cool disdain.
Lyn dug inside her purse for her insurance card. When she finished the paperwork, she returned the clipboard to Maya.
“Thanks. Why don’t you come on back?” Maya indicated a side door.
Like always, Lyn stood beside Kristen as her daughter struggled to stand. Lyn’s fingers itched to help Kristen, who was determined to do it by herself whether she looked odd and stumbled or not.
The girl braced her hands on the armrests, gained her balance, then clopped forward, her upper torso jerking back with each awkward step. Maya opened the door and stood there smiling until Kristen passed through, then led the way down a short hall to an examination room.
Inside, Kristen sat on the only chair, a grimace of pain showing her discomfort.
“Is it hurting you today?” Lyn asked.
“No.” A short, curt word.
Lyn knew better. The wound had healed, but it’d only been a year. The stump continued to pain Kristen whenever she wore her prosthesis. But the girl hated her wheelchair even more. And Lyn knew Kristen’s autonomy would diminish with the chair.
Lyn was determined to speak with the doctor about this. The brave girl refused to show any more signs of weakness than what had been forced upon her. So daring and courageous. So determined not to quit in spite of the adversity she faced. If only this new doctor could help her somehow. If only—
The door rattled, and the doctor entered the room. Lyn’s breath froze in her throat. The man glanced first at Kristen, then at the clipboard in his hand, but Lyn recognized him instantly. A tall, jet-eyed man with short, coal-black hair shaved high and tight like a U.S. marine. Like her, Lyn figured he was in his mid-thirties. With high, chiseled cheekbones, wide shoulders and long, solid legs. Dark and extremely handsome, in a dangerous sort of way. Except for his eyes. Fringed by thick lashes, they sparkled with gentle warmth.
“Cade!”
He looked up, his gaze mirroring her shock.
No, he couldn’t be the angry rancher who thought Lyn was a threat to the mustangs. He didn’t like her, he’d made that obvious last week when he’d saved her from the wild stallion. Surely he couldn’t be Kristen’s new doctor.
But he was. Oh, this day just kept getting worse.
* * *
Cade lifted his head, but didn’t speak for several moments as he contemplated Lyndsy Warner’s presence in his office. Her golden eyes held his like a vice grip, and he sensed her deep intelligence as she studied his face in return.
“You...you’re Kristen’s new doctor?” she asked.
“Apparently.”
“Oh. I guess I didn’t make the connection. But you said your name is Cade.” Her expression looked deflated.
“That’s right, although I’m Dr. Baldwin when I’m working in my office. I didn’t expect to see you here, either.”
Now he regretted not asking her full name when he’d met her in Secret Valley last week. He hadn’t put it all together. Lyn was short for Lyndsy. He decided the name Lyn suited her better. Finding out the new forest ranger’s daughter was one of his patients caught him completely off guard.
The tribal elders wouldn’t like this. No, not at all.
His gaze took in the woman’s skinny jeans, red blouse and white tennis shoes. Instead of a ponytail, she wore her long blond hair straight and soft around her face. But her eyes. A tawny-gold color, like cooked honey, sweet and smooth. Right now, she looked like a normal housewife, not a forest ranger. Not a threat to the wild horses. And certainly too young to have a daughter so old.
Likewise, she inspected him. The stethoscope hanging around his neck. The white smock he wore open over his blue chambray shirt. His denims and scuffed cowboy boots. He shifted nervously, wishing she’d stop looking at him.
“Um, when you rescued me from Buck, I didn’t realize you were a doctor.” A stiff smile curled her full lips, but didn’t reach her beautiful eyes.
“Yeah, we didn’t talk about that.”
“I thought you were a rancher.”
“I own Sunrise Ranch, but it’s not big enough to grow crops and livestock anymore. My grandparents left the place to me. I just live there now.”
“Oh.” She continued to stare.
“You okay?” he asked, trying to hide his own feelings of confusion.
She looked away. “Yes, I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re not really what I imagined a prosthesis specialist would look like.”
He made a soft scoffing sound, the heels of his boots thudding against the wooden floor. “Is that because I’m part Shoshone Indian?”
“No, not at all. I didn’t know until now. Although that’s fascinating, too.”
She found his heritage fascinating? Ironically, that was how he would describe her. But he wasn’t about to ask her to expand on her comment.
“I’m one-half Shoshone, on my mother’s side. Any less, and I wouldn’t be eligible to belong to the tribe,” he said.
With a Caucasian father and a Shoshone mother, he’d spent every childhood summer in Stokely with his mother’s parents. He’d been in Afghanistan when his grandfather died and left him Sunrise Ranch. All his life, Cade had dreamed of becoming a doctor and opening a medical office here to benefit the Toyakoi Tribe, his Shoshone people. Now that he was here, he was haunted by memories of war. Only his faith in God kept him sane.
“Is my ethnicity a problem for you?” he asked.
She snorted. “Of course not. It’s just that you seem so...so casual for a doctor.”
Kaku, his grandmother, had always told him he was wild and untamed. Like the mustangs running free in Secret Valley. And yet, he wasn’t wild. Not anymore. The war had changed him. He’d come to realize what was really important in life. God, family and living with honor. Now he just wanted to settle down and find peace. But one thing was missing. He had no family. They were all gone now. No one to share his hopes and dreams with. No one to love.
And he felt the emptiness like a hole in his heart.
“I’d look a bit out of place in Stokely if I ran around in a business suit.” He reached for a stool on wheels. Pulling it over, he sat down in front of Kristen. “And you didn’t tell me your daughter was one of my new patients.”
“I didn’t realize at the time.”
And whether he liked it or not, it appeared he’d now get to know them even better.
He faced Kristen, smiling to alleviate the girl’s worried frown. “So, Kristen, how are you today?”
“Fine.” Her voice sounded uncertain as she held her clasped hands tightly in her lap. Rather than happy and smiling, she looked anxious and withdrawn.
Frightened.
He made a pretense of scanning the clipboard. “You’re what? Twelve, thirteen years old?”
Kristen’s brow crinkled and she shook her head, looking away. Unsure of herself. Cade didn’t like that. If he was going to help this child, he’d have to win her trust.
“I’m only ten, but I’ll be eleven next November,” she said.
Cade widened his eyes and drew back as though amazed. “Is that right? Well, you’re sure pretty and you look older than your age. Very grown-up.”
His flattery brought a flush of pleasure to the child’s cheeks. Ah, he had her now. He loved helping people; he always had. But for some innate reason, he felt strongly that he must help this little girl feel better about herself. No matter who her mother was and what she did for a living.
“I’ve spoken to your doctor in Reno, and he’s told me you’re wearing a C-Leg prosthesis. Can I take a look?” Cade asked respectfully.
Kristen nodded, pulling her skirt up to a modest inch just above her skinny knees. Or rather, knee.
Setting the clipboard aside on the counter by the sink, Cade studied the mechanisms of the prosthesis. Pink and white scars crisscrossed the thighs of her amputated leg as well as her good leg. “Were both your legs injured?”
She nodded, but Lyn answered. “After the accident, they were only able to save her left leg.”
Thank goodness they were able to save that much.
Cade reached for the socket of the prosthesis, his fingers pressing and pulling gently as he tested the fit around Kristen’s stump.
“I don’t think it fits properly,” Lyn said. “She’s had a recent growth spurt, which may have changed the fitting. It’s hurting her. She isn’t able to walk very well.” She stepped near, hovering close by Kristen’s side.
Cade liked the genuine concern he heard in Lyn’s voice, and the tenderness as she brushed a protective hand over the girl’s arm. It made her seem more human.
“We’ll see.” He bowed his head low, his attention on Kristen, but his words were for Lyn. “How’d you hear about my office?”
“Dr. Fletcher said you’d recently completed an internship with the Craig Stratich Group. I’m aware that they’re leading specialists in prosthetics and research. I accepted my job in Stokely knowing there’d be a qualified doctor here to work with Kristen.”
He grunted his acknowledgment, betraying his nervousness. The tribal leaders wouldn’t want him treating the forest ranger’s daughter, but he had very little choice. He certainly would never turn the girl away. Above all, he felt compassion for the child. She needed his help and he couldn’t refuse.
He sat back and released a quick sigh. “You should know I’m not really a physical therapist. I’m not even a true prosthetist. I’m just a general practitioner who’s worked a lot with prosthetics. Unfortunately, my office isn’t currently set up to provide physical therapy for an amputee.”
Lyn’s brow crinkled, and her voice filled with apprehension. “Are you saying you can’t treat Kristen?”
“No, I can work with your specialists in Reno. I’m sure we can come up with something to allow me to help you out, but I wanted you to know up front what I’m able to do.” He made some mental notes of how he might install support bars for Kristen to hold on to as she learned to walk better. A floor mat and some practice stairs would help out, too. It wouldn’t take much to create a therapy room for the little girl, yet it could make a big difference in the quality of her life.
“I understand,” Lyn continued. “Dr. Fletcher said if anyone could help us, it was you.”
Cade chuckled, unable to resist feeling pleased by the flattery. “I’ll do my best. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my old teacher.”
“He also said you’d served several tours of duty as a marine in Afghanistan. When you got home, you finished medical school and focused on prosthetics because you had a good friend who lost his leg in the war.”
Cade stiffened, taken off guard by how much she knew about him. She’d touched a raw nerve buried deep inside. Dallin had saved his life, putting himself in harm’s way. Cade owed everything to Dal and much more. “Good ol’ Dr. Fletcher. He always did have a wagging tongue.”
“I didn’t mean to be nosy,” Lyn said. “It’s just that Kristen’s father was also a marine.”
“I see. Semper fi.” Cade nodded in understanding. Just one more thing he didn’t want to like about this woman.
“Always faithful,” she said.
“I’m sure your husband was a good man.” Cade almost groaned. Now he was making small talk with her.
“My daddy was the best,” Kristen said.
Cade looked away, the knowledge of their loss impacting him more than he liked. He patted Kristen on her good knee before rolling his stool backward. He didn’t want to know about Lyn’s dead husband. Or anything else about her, for that matter. “Why don’t you stand and walk a few steps for me, sweetheart?”
The girl tossed a hesitant glance at her mother, then did as asked. Bracing her hands against the armrests of her chair, she lurched to her feet. She bit her bottom lip, obviously concentrating. Trying hard not to show her clumsiness. Lyn stood close by. Too close. Her hands were open and ready to catch the girl if she fell.
Kristen walked forward, bending slightly at the waist and sticking her bottom out before jerking the prosthetic leg forward. The end result was that she walked with a pronounced limp.
Cade stood and stepped over to give Kristen some guidance. He had to brush past Lyn, catching the tantalizing scent of some kind of fruity shampoo. Sweet and feminine. “Excuse me.”
Lyn stepped back, but not far enough. Her gaze centered on Kristen like a mother eagle watching her young. And that’s when Cade wondered if she was a bit overprotective.
“You definitely need a new prosthesis,” Cade said. “We can get one fitted for you. I’ve got some good contacts for that. In the meantime, I’d like you to work on a few things for me. Can you do that?”
Kristen nodded, her blue eyes wide as she gazed up at him with a mixture of gratitude or doubt, he wasn’t sure which.
“First, I don’t think you’re trusting your prosthesis enough. It won’t collapse under you, so let it do the work for you. It’s strong and can bear your weight. As you walk, you need to make sure your hip is over the foot.”
He modeled the posture with his own hip and leg. “Set your weight down on the foot of your prosthesis before you take another step. Trust that it’ll be there for you. Brace your hand on the wall if you need to support yourself. Then bring through your good leg. This will pull you up onto the toe of your prosthesis. Keep your hip over your foot. That will load the springs in the prosthetic foot so it’ll help propel you forward on your next step.”
Cade directed Kristen through the motions. When her hip and leg moved out of position, he gently pressed them back into proper order, and Kristen was soon taking less awkward steps.
Then he moved away. Without his aid, utter panic filled Kristen’s eyes. “What if I fall?”
Lyn took a step toward her daughter, but Cade held out his hand to stop her from interfering. “Then you fall. What’s the worst that’ll happen?”
