Cowboy For Keeps. Debra Clopton
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taking a shower in a three by three space also occupied by the sink and toilet was a bit of a chore, though.”
He looked aghast. “How long did you do that?”
“Six weeks. I wish it had been longer, but the insurance ran out…” She’d hated leaving. Shawn, the teen, needed more help with his new prosthesis. She was still in contact with him, checking on his progress—or at least she had been until three weeks ago. Joyce was checking on him now and told her he was getting along pretty well, doing everything she’d instructed him to do. She had confidence that he would be fine. He was a totally determined teenager. Just like she’d been. It was the younger kids she’d worried the most about. They needed services longer to acclimate to their prosthetics and she’d hoped—at least she had before she’d walked away—that someday she could do something to help them more. Now she wasn’t sure if she could ever go back to working with young patients.
“You obviously like what you do to put up with that sort of thing that long.”
Wyatt’s words broke into the wandering thoughts. “Oh, I love my job.” Even now, moving from children to adults, she did love it. “Not many people can say they are blessed to be where they are in life. I can. Tiny shower stalls and all.” She didn’t add that she’d had to give up the part that she’d once loved the most. No one needed to know that, and that fact still didn’t change her love of her profession. It just altered her reality.
His expression grew troubled. “I know what you mean,” he said, almost under his breath as he looked away, out toward the pastures that stretched from the barn endlessly. Two football-goal-size lines formed between his brows, and his expression darkened. That scowl told her she’d somehow just shot down the little progress they’d just made. The man had actually lightened up for a few moments. It was a glimpse, but nonetheless a start.
Deciding that for now she’d said enough, she opened the door to the trailer and stepped up on the single step. “Thank you for this.” She’d wondered what was roaming around in his head. Something was troubling Wyatt. Maybe it was worry about his injuries. Maybe something more. Helping him with his pain and getting him up and about would help him physically. And mentally, too. “I’ll unpack and get settled. Is there anything you need me to do this evening? I could give you a therapeutic massage to help with that pain.” Therapist plus general factotum was an odd arrangement for her but she was looking forward to it.
He didn’t look at her. “No, we’ll get everything figured out tomorrow.” Unsmiling, he drove his wheelchair back toward the house without further elaboration.
Watching him, Amanda felt his pain. Still, she knew he was going to be all right physically with time.
She wondered if he realized that. He’d almost lost his life in that plane crash. There might be more going on in his head than anyone realized. She said a prayer for him as he rounded the corner and disappeared.
He’d seemed all alone in that moment. As alone as she was. Don’t let your thoughts go there. Right. She was here to work, and to get her mind off her own troubles. The last thing she needed to do was empathize so strongly with her client that she let it bring her down. He was counting on her and she wouldn’t fail him.
Glancing about the land that surrounded her, she breathed deeply. It was hot and dry, the reports of drought were increasing and the cool wind that had suddenly started blowing in across the dry grass was a pleasant surprise. Tomorrow she would run and gain every feel-good endorphin that running would give her.
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