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“It’s something your physician asked us to watch for,” Abby added.
Of course she did. “What happens if I do need further respiratory therapy? Will you send me back to the hospital?”
“Not if we don’t have to. We have other patients here that require it and we’re capable of providing you with whatever you need.” Brady wondered how long it would take to fully process that his hospital days were over. “In order to get on and off these horses, you’ll need to learn how to maneuver up and down ramps,” Abby continued. “I don’t want to push your chair any more than I have to, just as I’m sure you don’t want me pushing you. We’ll focus some of our time today on teaching you how to get around, which you’ll need regardless of how long you will or won’t be in that chair.”
Brady had woken up energized and now he felt exhausted before he’d even started. He exhaled slowly. “Where do we begin?”
Abby snickered. “If you’re worried, then I’ve done my job. I want you to be hopeful, but not overzealous. I’ve heard stories about you, Superman.” She handed him a helmet. “Try this on for size. Your therapy will be in multiple stages and we won’t force you beyond what you’re capable of handling. Where would you like your first lesson? Indoors or out?”
Brady turned his chair toward the door. “Out. I’ve been cooped up in a sterile hospital for over two months. I’m ready to get a little dusty and sweaty.”
“Come on, cowboy.”
After an hour of wheelchair exercises, Brady’s arms felt like rubber and his head was on fire thanks to his helmet. But it felt good. It was hot, it was humid and it was pure heaven.
“Are you ready to try a horse?” Abby asked. “Or do you need a break?”
Brady shook his head. “I’ve never been more ready.”
This was it. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. A team of six people approached him and a man named Thomas helped him up the ramp. Okay, so the ramp was more of a challenge than he had anticipated, but it didn’t matter. He was about to mount a horse. He stood slowly, using the animal for support. The platform allowed him to easily slide onto the thin fabric saddle. His body began to shake and he wasn’t sure if it was nerves, excitement, or if something was wrong. He gripped the horse’s mane, relishing the feel of the coarse hair between his fingers. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. Each horse had its own unique scent and this one smelled like iced tea. He rocked forward in the saddle and felt a sharp twinge up his spine.
His eyes flew open. “What the hell?”
“Brady, tell me what you’re feeling,” Abby said.
“A—a sharp pain in my back.” Brady sat frozen in the saddle, afraid to move.
His little team moved closer to him. “Can you lean back a bit and sit upright?” Abby asked. “We have you surrounded and I won’t let you fall.”
There was that phrase again, only he wished it was Dr. Lindstrom saying it instead of Abby. Yesterday her support had given him more strength than he realized he needed. He slowly rotated his hips backward and straightened his spine. No pain. “I’m good. It went away.”
“Remember what I told you earlier,” Abby said. “Your body’s been through a lot and you need to give it a chance to reacclimate itself. That’s why we’re here. Ready for a walk around the arena?”
Brady gripped the handles on either side of the saddle. He instinctively searched for stirrups but there were none. He attempted to squeeze his thighs tighter around the horse’s body as if he were riding bareback, only to realize he didn’t have the strength. A hippotherapy team member closely flanked either side of him, while two people followed and two led the horse. He’d never felt more secure and more terrified at the same time.
The horse walked slowly around the outdoor arena. He’d never noticed the similarity between a horse’s gait and a human’s before. He’d read about it, but he hadn’t fully understood it until now. As the horse’s hips rose on one side, so did his own, forcing him to contract his core muscles.
Brady knew he had a goofy smile plastered across his face, but he didn’t care. Today was the beginning of the rest of his life.
Chapter Three (#ulink_c0622c8f-5e21-5cfa-bb3f-22d383d6ea94)
It was the Fourth of July and Sheila had to work, just as she had every year of her residency. The only difference—she’d spend her afternoon at Dance of Hope and she’d see Brady Sawyer. The man hadn’t been far from her mind since she’d discharged him four days earlier. She had tried to convince herself it was strictly out of concern for her patient, but even she didn’t believe that story. He’d gotten under her skin in the most impossible way. She couldn’t act on her attraction to him and she couldn’t shake it either.
Sometimes an attraction to a patient was inevitable. But the feeling always disappeared as quickly as it came. Brady Sawyer had been out of sight for days, yet she found herself more excited than she should be to see him today. Marissa hadn’t uttered another word about him. Then again, Sheila hadn’t given her much of a chance. The busier she stayed, the sooner she’d forget about Brady.
By the time she pulled into Dance of Hope’s parking lot, it was early afternoon. A small crowd had gathered near the Ride ’em High! Rodeo School outdoor arena. The summer students were competing in an informal exhibition and there was Brady Sawyer, standing at the fence watching the action.
Sheila had never understood why they’d built the rodeo school adjacent to the hippotherapy center. It just seemed to scream “look at me” to the hippotherapy patients. And then she looked at Brady hugging the fence rail—the poster child for “this could happen to you.”
She redirected her attention to the patient files on the passenger seat. Flipping through them, she scanned the notes from last week’s visit, then gathered her things and exited the car. Her focus immediately landed on Brady. Today he exuded pure masculinity, clad in faded denim jeans that managed to hug him in all the right places and a formfitting white T-shirt. Good heavens. She shouldn’t care what the man wore. The fact that he’d been standing since she’d parked five minutes earlier should be her primary focus. His strength and stamina had clearly increased in a matter of days.
Sheila approached him. “You’re not getting any ideas, are you?” Sheila asked. He turned toward her, almost toppling over. She knew better than to sneak up on him, but she had warned him she’d be watching.
“Dr. Lindstrom. This is a surprise.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you the rules?” Sheila detected the scent of Proraso aftershave. She knew the eucalyptus and menthol fragrance well. One of her fellow residents wore the same brand. She’d never cared much for it, but Brady’s unique body chemistry transformed the fragrance from mildly annoying to downright tempting. “Everybody’s on a first-name basis here. Please call me Sheila.”
She noticed Brady’s legs beginning to shake, but held her tongue. His chair was directly behind him and he’d use it when he was ready.
“You look nice.” His admission caught her off guard, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He eased into his chair and looked up at her, exposing more of his chiseled features to the sun. “I like you out of uniform with your hair down.”
“Thank you.” Sheila had almost forgotten that she’d changed before heading to the ranch. Scrubs were never worn outside the hospital. She’d chosen her best fitting jeans, lacy white top and red cowboy boots this morning after convincing herself it was patriotic and conveyed a professional yet casual appearance for her rounds at Dance of Hope. In reality, she chose the outfit because she knew she looked damn good in it and she wanted Brady to notice her. She had succeeded...now what?
“Are you checking up on me?” A slow smile spread across his face, forming a dimple in his right cheek.
“I’m checking up on all my patients. This is part of my residency program.”
“Residency? You’re not a doctor?”
Sheila winced at the question. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked it, but it stung just the same. “I became a doctor the day I graduated from medical school. An orthopedic surgeon’s residency is five years. This is my final year after which I’ll become board certified. Then I’ll begin my two-year fellowship in orthopedic trauma, providing Grace General accepts me in their program.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” Brady shifted in his chair. “I had no idea how the whole medical school and residency thing worked.”
“No offense taken.” Sheila wanted to ask about his education and what he’d do if competing was no longer an option, but feared she’d already crossed the forbidden doctor-patient line. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve never felt sorer and more invigorated in my entire life.” He leaned toward her. “I feel better already. Don’t worry, Doc. I know I still have a long way to go.”
“I noticed a difference when I pulled in. Studies have shown recovery occurs faster outside the hospital.”
“Is that so?” There was that dimple again. He released the brake on his chair and motioned for her to follow him. “Do you have a few minutes to walk with me?”
Sheila checked her watch. “A few. What’s on your mind?”
Brady turned onto the paved path alongside the hippotherapy center leading them away from the crowd. “I know you think my recovery is all about me, but I need you to know that I’m not doing this for selfish reasons.”
Sheila stopped at a bench and sat down. “What I do or don’t think shouldn’t affect your recovery one way or the other.”
“Alice told me the other day that I was selfish and using our son as an excuse to compete again and—”
“I’m sorry, who?” Sheila’s heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second. It shouldn’t matter. But it did. “You have a son? And a wife?” The last question left an awful taste in her mouth.
Brady shook his head. “I have a four-year-old son named Gunner, and Alice is his mother but we’re not married. Never have been, never will be. I’m surprised you didn’t know. They visited me at the hospital.”
She probably would have noticed if she hadn’t gone out of her way to avoid him during his stay. “I wasn’t your physician then. I don’t understand why you’re telling me all of this.”
“You may not have been my doctor, but I noticed you. It was impossible not to. A part of me secretly hoped you had noticed me too. I get it. There are many more patients than there are doctors and we become a number.”
“You certainly weren’t a number.” Sheila took his hand and immediately regretted it when his other hand covered hers. Unwilling to let go, she braved a look into his eyes. “I’m probably one of the few people in your life who can honestly say they’ve seen inside of you.” Sheila attempted a small bit of humor to derail the somersault of emotion cycling through her. “No patient is ever a number, at least not to me. I’m not trying to diminish who you are or your case in any way.” She rose, pulling away from him. “What am I doing?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Sheila turned to face him, squaring her shoulders. “You do understand that nothing can ever happen between the two of us. It would cost me my job and I’ve already fielded questions about you. I don’t mean to sound cold, but nobody is worth that sacrifice.”
“Relax, Doc.” Brady shrugged. “It was just a harmless flirtation. You’re a beautiful woman, and I’m trying to get my bearings back. I didn’t mean anything by it. It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” His admission was oddly reassuring and uncomfortable at the same time. “Thank you, for saying I’m beautiful.” Sheila knew she shouldn’t have said anything but it had been so long since she’d heard a compliment she felt it deserved an acknowledgment. “I’m going to finish my rounds and then I will be back to see you because you’re on my list too. So don’t run off anywhere.”
Brady pointed to his chair. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” They both laughed, easing the tension. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Sheila shouldn’t have read anything into his reply, but the undercurrent had been undeniable. No man had ever had the ability to ruin her, but if she wasn’t careful this one just might.
* * *
BRADY BARELY HAD time to recover from Sheila’s rejection before he spotted Gunner dragging his grandfather up the walkway by the hand.
“Daddy!” Gunner jumped in his lap. “Easy, kiddo. Daddy’s sore from all his physical therapy.” His father reached over Gunner and gave Brady a hug. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”
“You look great,” John Sawyer said. “You finally got some color back into you.” The older man looked around. “This place is huge. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here until today. Work has been crazy and this little guy has kept me busy.”
“Once I’m on my feet, I’ll pay you back with interest. I appreciate all you’ve done.” He admired his father, but he hated the extra stress his accident had placed on the older man. He’d already had a heart attack two years ago and Brady didn’t want him to risk another. His dad worked long hours on a residential construction crew in the hot Texas sun to help pay Brady’s bills. It didn’t matter how many times he or Alice told him not to, he picked up Brady’s mail every day and paid whatever came in. Brady wasn’t broke—yet. He had money in the bank, but every time he attempted to pay his father back, the man refused, telling him they’d settle up later. When Alice had the mail forwarded to her house, John called each utility and credit card company and sent them a check for the amount due. If anything happened to his father, he’d never forgive himself. That was one more reason he needed to regain his life.
John squeezed Brady’s shoulder. “Eh, let’s save all that nonsense for another time. Are you going to show me around this place or what?”
“I can show you, Pawpaw.” Gunner climbed down from Brady’s lap.
“You can!” John took hold of his grandson’s hand. “You lead the way, then.” He looked over his shoulder at Brady. “You coming, son?”
“I’ll catch up with you. I left my phone back in the cottage. I want to get it in case Alice calls for him. I think Gunner wants to show you the rodeo school.”
Brady watched them walk toward the corrals. His father and Sheila had missed each other by mere minutes. He’d barely composed himself after acting like a complete jackass before they’d arrived. He didn’t have a clue what had compelled him to blurt out everything he’d said to Sheila. This was definitely one of those “in need of a do over” situations.
He wheeled down the path to his cottage. Despite all the things he’d said wrong, something Sheila had mentioned kept replaying in his head...she’d already fielded questions about him. When? And from who? He wanted to ask her, but he wasn’t about to track her down and appear even more desperate.
After giving his father the grand tour, Brady was hot, sweaty and hungry. The hippotherapy center and rodeo school had a combined cookout to celebrate the holiday. Two hours had passed since he had last seen Sheila and he wondered if she’d left for the day without seeing him. He couldn’t blame her if she had. Once they’d piled their plates with food and made their way to the picnic tables, Brady spotted her talking with Kay and a group of people he hadn’t seen before. Then again, from his vantage point he seemed to miss quite a few things. He’d definitely developed a better appreciation for what it was like to be his son’s height.
“I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.” Sheila’s voice almost caused him to choke on his hot dog. She patted him on the back a few times. “You okay? I didn’t lose you in the hospital, I’m not going to lose you out here.”
Brady cleared his throat. “I’m good. Dad, this is Dr. Sheila Lindstrom, one of my surgeons. Sheila this is my father, John, and my son, Gunner.”
Sheila shook hands with John and readily welcomed a hug from Gunner. “Thank you for fixing my daddy.”
Sheila cupped Gunner’s chin and smiled. “You’re welcome, honey, but I had lots of help.” She turned to the table. “I hadn’t realized how late it was. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal. Brady, do you have any questions or concerns for me?”
He had many questions and a few concerns, none of them relating to his health. “No, everything I’m feeling is muscle related. It’s been a while since they’ve had this much of a workout.”
“Dr. Lindstrom, why don’t you join us?” his father asked. He attempted to shoot the man a look, but John refused to make eye contact, confirming to Brady he was up to no good. “Unless we’re taking you away from your own family.” Subtle, Dad. Real subtle.
“My family lives in Colorado. I’m not here with anyone.”
“Then I insist.” His father rose. “Have a seat next to me, I’ll fix you a plate.” Before Sheila could protest, John was halfway to the buffet table.
“Just for the record, I didn’t put him up to that.”
“I believe you.” Sheila laughed. “He reminds me of my own father. Forgive me for asking, but your mom...?”
“She died shortly after Gunner was born.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve been really difficult, losing her at such an important time in your life.”
“Thank you.”
“Here you go.” John set a plate twice the size of any of theirs in front of Sheila.
“My God, Dad. If she ate all of that she’d burst.” His father was determined to embarrass him today.
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I could put away.” Sheila thanked his father.
It was early evening by the time they finished eating. Gunner had dragged his grandfather off to the dessert table for seconds. “Thank you for humoring my dad. I don’t want to keep you from your Fourth of July plans tonight.”
“I rather enjoyed it. My only plans involve heading into town to watch the fireworks a little later. This is the first year I’ve been able to see them since I’ve moved here. I’ve always been on call. It’s a rare night of freedom for me.”
“Fireworks?” Gunner asked as he returned with an ice cream sundae in hand and a mouth full of whipped cream. “Can we come too?”
Brady didn’t know if he should hug his son or reprimand him. He chose the middle-of-the-road approach. Wrapping his arm around Gunner’s waist, he tugged him onto his lap. “If you want to see fireworks, ask Pawpaw if he’ll drive us, but don’t invite yourself to someone else’s party.”
“It’s hardly a party. And you’re more than welcome to join us. We’re taking everyone from Dance of Hope and the rodeo school into town. You’re a part of Dance of Hope, so you’re automatically invited. That’s what I was discussing earlier with Kay.”
It wasn’t the most private setting imaginable, but it was better than the alternative.
“We’d love to join you.”
* * *
SHEILA HAD NO idea what had possessed her to offer Brady and his family a ride into town. After she had helped Kay pile all the kids into multiple ranch vehicles, she’d realized Brady was the odd man out. He hadn’t been there long enough to form many friendships and she figured they’d look platonic enough with John as their chaperone.
With John and Gunner in the backseat of her car, she had to fend for herself up front with Brady. She’d never considered her Ford Fusion a small car, but Brady’s hulking frame transformed it into a much more intimate space. Normally it wouldn’t have fazed her, but after their little moment earlier followed by John’s not-so-subtle matchmaking, her belly was flip-flopping like that of a teenager with a crush. Brady had crossed the invisible line between the seats more than once during their short drive into town. Accidentally, of course. That didn’t stop her from enjoying the occasional arm brush.
All of Ramblewood had come out to see the pyrotechnics. But the mayor had set aside a separate parking area for the Dance of Hope patients so they’d have an unobstructed view and not have to leave the vehicles if they didn’t want to or weren’t able to. The second Sheila cut the engine, John hopped out with Gunner in tow. So much for their chaperone.
Neither one of them made a move to exit the car. After sitting in silence for a good three minutes, Sheila opened the moonroof, and reclined her seat slightly. She had a comfortable front-row seat and didn’t see the need to get out. Truth be told...she was quite content sitting in the dark with Brady by her side.
As the sky lit up in shades of red, white and blue, Brady reached for her. She didn’t resist, enjoying the feel of his palm against the top of her hand. Their fingers entwined and for a few moments, they had what could never exist outside in the real world.
It felt good. So good, she knew she’d miss it tomorrow.
Chapter Four (#ulink_5bc1f1fb-ebed-5077-8aec-4ec7c58c819d)
Three days had passed since Brady had seen Sheila. In a way, it felt like only a few hours since he’d held her hand in the dark. But at times it felt as if it had happened years ago. Either way, he missed it more than he should. He hadn’t even kissed the woman—not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind a few hundred times—and he was already craving her touch again. He’d held hands, kissed and done much more with his fair share of women and none of them had had anywhere near the same effect. Once he was capable of taking her on a proper date, he would plan a night she wouldn’t forget. That is if he could convince her to say yes. He didn’t want to endanger her job, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Maybe they could find a way...
