After that, the thought of dating anyone had seemed like too great a risk. And it still was, not that she would ever consider it until Eli was much, much older.
Even if a small, inner voice had started whispering to her about a certain tall, dark and distant man who just might have the power to steal her heart.
Sophie stared back at Josh and suppressed the urge to shake him. “What do you mean, you’re quitting therapy?”
“I left a message for Grace,” he repeated. “I expect she’ll get the message on Monday.”
“But why?” He looked so implacable that she was starting to envision her future trickling through her fingers. “You can’t.”
“That’s not exactly true.”
“But we’re not done yet. We have so much more to do. You won’t be sorry if we continue. I promise.”
He looked as if he already were. “I know you need to do well with your clients. I’ve already told Grace that you’ve done a wonderful job.”
“Is this really about your therapy, or is it something else?” She glanced over to the edge of the clearing, where Eli was playing with Bear. They’d arrived minutes ago for their Sunday visit as planned, but now she was glad that Eli was occupied out of hearing range. “Have I offended you somehow? Is this about Eli? I know he can be a bit overwhelming at times, but he’s a good boy. He really is, if you just give him a chance.”
“It’s…about cutting losses.”
“Cutting losses?” she repeated faintly.
He looked away.
“I have no idea what you mean. But if this is about not needing any more therapy, you’re wrong. And I’m not saying that just because I want to look good for my boss.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“You’ve never told me about your past. There was nothing but medical diagnoses and progress notes in the chart I have. But I saw the inside of your storage shed, Josh. You had a life. A home. A family. And now, you’re alone. Do you want to talk about it?”
When he finally turned back to face her, his expression was so stark, so bleak, that she wanted to enfold him in an embrace and never let him go.
“I saw the hopeful look in Eli’s eyes when he was talking to me, and it wasn’t just over the Harley. Spending too much time with me will lead him on and I just don’t want to do that to him. Understand?”
She flinched. “I didn’t hint anything of the sort to him. And I certainly expect nothing of you beyond our professional relationship. I thought we would be coming out to your place just as friends, sort of.”
“Then you and I are on the same page. But a young boy could still so easily become attached…and even as a big brother or mentor, I just have nothing to give.”
“You sell yourself short.”
“Do I?” His short laugh was bitter. “Then accept this. I had a family. I should have been able to save them, and instead I let them die. Now what kind of role model is that?”
“And that’s when you were hurt,” she whispered. “A car accident?”
He nodded.
“And you let them die because…” She suddenly imagined seeing the heartbreaking situation unfold. “You were too badly injured yourself. So what were you supposed to do, walk on a shattered knee? Apply bandages with a crushed hand?”
He flicked a startled glance at her.
“I don’t supposed shock and hemorrhaging wounds of your own should’ve held you back, either.”
“I was in emergency medicine. I worked in one of the busiest trauma centers in the Midwest for eight years. I should have been able to avoid the drunk driver on the highway. I should have been able to save my wife.” His voice was tinged with bitterness. “But I didn’t, and God didn’t step in, either. And with her, I also lost our unborn son.”
“I’m so sorry about your loss. I truly am.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, just as she would have comforted a good friend. “But,” she added gently, “you didn’t die with them.”
“I sometimes wish I had.” He hesitated, then tentatively returned her embrace, drawing her close. “It would’ve been easier.”
“But God must have plans for your life.” She stepped back and gripped his hands in her own. “You have a wonderful education and a bright future ahead. You just need to work at it. Stay in therapy. Get strong again. Then get back to a productive life in their honor. Holing up in this cabin is such a waste.”
“I still don’t think—”
“Then don’t think about it, just keep going. You have nothing to lose. If this is about you being uncomfortable with having my son visit, that’s not a problem. It was a mistake for me to bring him to your home in the first place.”
A pained expression crossed Josh’s face. “That isn’t it.”
“Then if you could spare just an hour for him to come out sometime, that would be wonderful. He’d love every minute. But don’t feel obligated.”
He sighed. “When you put it that way, I can hardly say no.”
“Of course you can. But don’t worry, he’s not going to start imagining that you’re his substitute dad. I’ll keep his head on straight so he won’t have any expectations of you whatsoever. This is just a chance to see you work on your motorcycle, and nothing more. Deal?”
After a long pause, he nodded, though he probably thought she’d been pushy, and that she didn’t understand just how hard it was for him to agree.
But she did. She’d seen the pain and flash of longing in his eyes when he’d looked at Eli, and knew he was imagining another child in Eli’s place.
Maybe bringing her son here had reopened old wounds, but Josh had more to deal with than just his physical damage, and she’d learned long ago that facing problems was a lot more effective than hiding from them.
Somewhere, beneath that protective shell of his, there was a warmer, much happier man. And by the time she was done with his physical therapy, she wanted to set him free.
Chapter Eight
When Sophie walked into the Pine County Home Health Office on Monday morning, she expected trouble. And sure enough, she found a note from Grace Dearborn on the clipboard holding her printed schedule for the week.
With such a small staff, there were informal meetings on Friday mornings to discuss clients and concerns.
But this note requested an individual meeting, which meant Grace had probably received Josh’s phone message and wasn’t very happy.
Worrying at her lower lip, she gathered the equipment, supplies and charts that she would need for the day and stowed them in her duffel bag. Then she headed for Grace’s corner office at the back.
As usual, the older woman appeared to be nearly buried in an avalanche of paperwork and file folders on her desk. She raised her eyebrows when Sophie knocked lightly on her open door. “Come in, have a seat. Pardon the mess—I’m in the middle of writing grants to try to bring in more money for our programs.”
All but one chair was piled with folders, so Sophie took the empty chair closest to her desk.
Grace wearily closed the folder in front of her. “So, how is everything going?”
Since Grace regularly reviewed the client charts, which were kept here in the office when not checked out to someone making a home visit, and was always attentive at the Friday meetings, she probably had a very good idea. But Sophie quickly summarized the status of her current caseload anyway.
“I’ve been really pleased with your progress with Josh McLaren,” Grace said. “Six visits out at his place—which is five more than our last therapist managed.”
“He wasn’t very cooperative at first, as you know. But he’s doing well.”
“And yet he left a message for me, saying he was ending his therapy. Why?”
“He still has issues about his accident and the family he lost. He did tell me that he’d called you. But, he had second thoughts after I talked to him over the weekend.”
“He told you about the accident.”
“Not in great detail. Just t
hat he feels guilty about not avoiding a drunk driver, and believes he should have been able to save his pregnant wife.”
Grace nodded. “They were on vacation, celebrating her graduation from seminary earlier that month. Their car ended up in a ravine not far from here and burst into flames on impact. Josh was thrown from the car, but she was trapped inside.”
Sophie suddenly felt faint, imagining the horror. “He said…‘God didn’t bother to step in to help.’”
“I imagine he’s been wrestling with a lot of issues since then. The other driver was unhurt, though two people in his car died. Apparently he was still screaming at Josh when the highway patrol and ambulance arrived, throwing drunken accusations about how it had been Josh’s fault. But the skid marks and damage on the cars proved otherwise.”
“That sounds like a nightmare.”
“Since he gave you some of the information, I thought you might want to know the rest. He’s a troubled man, Sophie. He left his job at a hospital in Chicago and bought that secluded place far back in the timber, just wanting to be alone. I see a man who needs help, but hasn’t been willing to accept it.”
“He did agree to continue seeing me. After some discussion, anyway.”
“Good, good. Do everything you can, Sophie.”
Grace reopened the folder in front of her, in obvious dismissal and Sophie started to rise until Grace stopped her with a pensive, troubled look. “Is something wrong?”
“When Paul left for the summer, he said he was thinking about applying for a physical therapy teaching position over at the University of Minnesota. He wasn’t sure if he’d be back here or not.”
Sophie’s heart stumbled. “You were going to find funding for a second therapy position if he did come back, right?”
“That’s what I said, and I’m working on it. But as you know, funding is being cut everywhere in the county right now. I’ll keep you posted, though.”
The concern in Grace’s eyes wasn’t reassuring at all. “Thanks for letting me know. I guess maybe I should start looking at other options?”
“Not yet—if Paul returns and there’s any way we can swing the budget, I don’t want to risk losing someone like you. Give it until mid-July, and I should know more, okay? I’m already working on a proposal to present to the County Board, to show the cost-benefit of having another therapist on staff. If nothing else, dollar signs ought to impress them.”
At her car, Sophie paused for a moment, her hand on the door handle.
She’d figured Grace wanted to express concern about Josh’s phone message, and that it would be easy enough to reassure her about the man’s change of heart. But the meeting hadn’t really been about that at all.
It had been a subtle warning about the future; one that was now completely out of Sophie’s hands.
And all she could do now was pray.
When Josh agreed, despite his misgivings, to let Eli and Sophie come over so the boy could “help” with the Harley, he’d expected a one time deal, but the child’s rapt attention and infectious enthusiasm had somehow led to another visit, and then another. Now, two weeks later, he and his mother had been over four times.
Between that and Sophie’s visits for his physical therapy, Josh found himself looking forward to seeing her with ever-growing anticipation…even more, now that his appointments had dropped to just Mondays and Wednesdays.
In another two weeks, they’d be over altogether, and the thought of facing the lonely, empty walls of the cabin without her breezing in on a regular basis already filled him with a sense of loss.
Now, she looked up from reading the latest doctor’s order in his chart and smiled.
“So let’s see that journal,” she said. “Are you keeping up with your longhand entries?”
He had, but it was the last thing he wanted her to see up close and personal.
“Come on,” she teased. “I won’t peek at the specific words you wrote. Honest. Just flip through the pages. This is therapy, remember? Dexterity. Fine motor control.”
He lifted the journal from the table by the sofa and slowly ruffled through the pages.
“Are you noticing any difference?”
“I think so.” But it was more than just increased strength in his hands and improved dexterity. He’d started out with morose, self-absorbed entries of a paragraph or two, but as time went on, he’d drifted into much longer passages about the last three years, as well as his hopes and dreams for the future. The plans for…
“From what I can see, the penmanship is really improving, and you must be more comfortable because you’re writing longer entries every day.”
“So do I get an A?”
“Definitely.” She glanced over his chart and her recent progress notes. “On all counts, really. You’ve really done well. So tell me, doc, what are your plans for the next six months? Do you plan to go back to work in Chicago?”
“No.”
She frowned. “So…you’ll just stay here?”
The subject of his return to medicine had come up before, but he’d always evaded a direct answer.
On the night of his accident, he had railed against God and had cursed himself for his failures when Julia died in his arms despite his futile attempts to save her.
The guilt had come later, when he’d realized that though he’d loved her with all his heart, he’d always put his career before her.
Had she even been happy, with a husband who was never home? He’d never been unfaithful with another woman, but he’d cheated her of happiness all the same, and now there was nothing he could do to turn back the clock and give her the love and attention she’d deserved.
The day of her funeral, he’d sworn that he’d never practice again.
Until recently, returning in any capacity had been out of the question anyway, given his limited and painful mobility, back pain, and the significant impairment of his dominant hand. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“But surely you won’t give up medicine altogether.”
“Not exactly.”
“You could do so much good in this world. You could help people, not just hide away like this.” She glanced at the walls of his cabin—bare, except for the moose head—then turned back to him, and clearly tried to mask her concern. “You must have a mortgage. Expenses. What will you do?”
“I’m thinking.”
She was worried about his future, afraid he had nothing. Little did she know.
There was a massive insurance settlement—blood money—sitting in multiple investment accounts under his name. Money that he would never touch for himself.
He had plans, though, that he wanted to implement in Julia’s memory. And now that others were involved, perhaps those plans would actually come to pass.
“Well, we’re done for today. On another note, Eli wants me to ask you to join us tomorrow evening for a Fourth of July picnic at my grandfather’s house, and for the fireworks afterward. I told him you’d probably be busy, so don’t hesitate to say no.”
“A picnic?”
“After I thought about it, I decided to ask all of my clients, since my dad and stepmom are out of town. Only Alberta is able to come thus far.” A hint of a blush climbed up into her cheeks. “Nothing fancy. I’m sure you’re accustomed to much more. Come to think of it, you probably already have other plans.”
He could barely remember his old life anymore, when the holidays were occasions for family and celebrations, and happiness. “I’d like that.”
“Awesome. Eli will be thrilled.” She gathered her purse and duffel bag and started for the door, then turned. “Almost forgot. Gramps has the little blue house at the south end of Maple. You can’t miss it.”
“What time?”
“We’ll all be downtown for the Fourth of July parade in the afternoon, if you want to join us. Otherwise, is six o’clock all right?”
He nodded.
“The city council sets off the fireworks out at the fairgrounds, so Gramps’s backyard is act
ually the best place in town for seeing the fireworks.”
A parade. Picnic. Family gathering. The stuff of small town life that he’d never expected to experience again. Yet somehow, Sophie was managing to draw him back into the world again.
And with this offer of such simple pleasures, he felt her filling an even bigger place in his heart.
He’d begun to think about her too often. To wonder what she might say if he asked her out for something more formal than coffee on a Saturday morning or an estate auction. Their friendship was deepening. But even if she might say yes to a formal date, he knew better than to ask.
She had her life ahead of her. She deserved someone who could be a good dad for Eli and a loving, devoted husband.
And spending time with damaged goods like him would be just a waste of her time.
He’d been able to drive, before starting physical therapy. It had just been awkward and difficult, and generally not worth the effort. He hadn’t had any reason to, other than a monthly run for groceries and dog food or a trip to the quaint bookstore that backed up to the tumbling waters of Aspen Creek.
Now, on his way to Sophie’s grandfather’s house, he found himself cruising through town just to kill some time. Past Aspen Creek Books—his favorite haunt—and the new sporting goods store at the other end of the block, with its patriotic array of red, white and blue kayaks safety-chained to each other like a colorful bracelet, leaning up against the limestone block exterior.
Josh flexed his leg, testing the joint. How long had it been since he’d kayaked or canoed any of the beautiful Wisconsin rivers? His college days? Maybe Sophie and Eli…
He swiftly cut off that line of thought.
Stragglers were still flowing down the sidewalks from the downtown area, where the parade had ended a half hour ago, as he crossed Main and headed for Maple.
Several blocks down, the street ended in front of a small blue house with peeling paint and white shutters. Overflowing flowerbeds flanked the sidewalk and foundation of the house, but the grass was freshly mowed and the place was otherwise painfully neat.
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