Authors: Leigh Bale
Cade liked the genuine concern he
heard in Lyn’s voice. 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 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 little 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 onto 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 nosey,” 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 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 were 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 that 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. “But 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?”
He waited, letting both daughter
and mother digest this comment. Hoping Kristen realized that falling wasn’t the
worst thing she should fear.
“People will laugh,” Kristen said.
“So, let them. And what will you
do?”
He hoped she didn’t say she’d cry.
He couldn’t restore her leg, but he could help her toughen up so she could cope
with her life.
“I get back up?” she asked.
A question, not a statement.
“Of course! Have you ever seen
someone else fall down?” he asked.
The little girl nodded. Her mother
looked tense and wary. Apprehensive.
“And did you laugh?” he asked.
“No.” A vague response. She didn’t
understand what he was getting at. Not yet, anyway.
“Why not?”
“Because they fell down and might
be hurt. I don’t laugh because I know how it feels.”
“Of course. But they don’t just lay
there. They get back up, right?”
Another nod.
He bent slightly at the waist so he
could look her in the eyes. “Kids fall all the time, Kristen. You just gotta
quit being afraid of it. I can teach you how to land on your bottom so it won’t
hurt as much. If you fall down, do you already know how to stand back up
without help?”
She nodded, her eyes filled with a
bit more trust, but not enough. Not yet. This poor girl had a lot of issues she
needed to resolve if she was ever going to walk well and lead a normal, happy
life.
“Then, there’s nothing to be afraid
of, is there? You can get back up and walk on your merry way,” he reiterated.
She looked down, her chin
quivering. A strand of golden hair swept past her cheek. She looked so sweet
and vulnerable.
Just like her mom.
“But kids laugh when I fall,” she
said.
His heart gave a powerful squeeze.
“Then let them laugh. Show them it doesn’t bother you one bit. And pretty soon,
they won’t laugh anymore.”
Cade couldn’t help wondering if Lyn
had discussed this topic with Kristen. From the profound concern in the
mother’s eyes, he knew the ranger cared deeply about her daughter. But maybe
Kristen needed to hear this dialogue from someone besides her mom.
Maybe Lyn needed to hear it, too.
Taking a deep breath, Kristen took
another step and another. She pressed her tongue against her upper lip, seeming
to concentrate on doing what he’d shown her. Learning to trust her prosthesis.
Lyn tightened her hands into fists, as though she fought the urge not to assist
her child.
“Hey! I’m doing it better.” Kristen
smiled at her mom.
“You sure are, honey,” Lyn agreed,
her voice thick with emotion.
Cade’s gaze darted to Lyn’s face.
Against his better judgment, he sympathized with the ranger and her cute
daughter. How could he resist? He’d thought about telling Lyn he couldn’t treat
Kristen, but that went right out the window. Only an unfeeling ogre would turn their
back on this woman and her child. They needed him. Maybe even more than Dal had
needed him after he’d lost his leg.
“When you feel the resistance of
the prosthetic toe, you tend to want to avoid it rather than learning to work
with it. Believe in your prosthesis. Make it work for you. Trust it to be
there,” Cade advised.
“But it hurts.” Kristen cringed.
“That’s a different matter. You
need a better fitting socket. I can give you some extra thick socks to wear
over your stump, but I think this socket is too loose. You have a bony
prominence that needs a flexible area around it so it won’t cause you pain.”
“I knew something was wrong,” Lyn
sighed.
“We’re gonna take care of that for
you,” Cade promised. “We’ll get you fitted for a new prosthesis. I also want to
give you some new exercises I think will strengthen your balance, abdomen and
thighs.”
He continued working with the
child, learning her range of motion, strength and coordination. “You’re quite
limber and strong. I don’t want you to lose that, so exercise every day. You
just need more confidence.”
A bit of hope filled Kristen’s
eyes. “Maybe when I get my new socket, I can play soccer with the other kids.”
Lyn shook her head hard. “No,
honey. You could get hurt doing that.”
“Ahh,” the girl groaned. “Dad would
want me to try.”
“Well, Dad isn’t here.” An
unyielding edge of sternness laced Lyn’s voice.
Definitely overprotective.
Cade stood silently listening to
this exchange. What had happened to Kristen’s father? Why wasn’t the guy here
with his family?
“Kristen’s father was killed in the
accident when she lost her leg,” Lyn explained.
From the sadness filling her eyes,
Cade realized she’d divulged something very personal. Right now, she didn’t
look like the proficient forest ranger he’d met last week in Secret Valley.
Now, she just looked like a worried mom. Vulnerable and exposed. And that made
him feel strangely protective of her.
No! He shook his head. The last
thing he wanted was to feel sentimental toward this woman and her child. He was
Kristen’s doctor, nothing more. He must remain neutral. With all his patients.
Cade cleared his voice. “I’m sorry
to hear that. But with a running prosthesis, I don’t see why Kristen couldn’t
play soccer. Staying active will help her retain her range of motion.”
He looked at Lyn, keeping his gaze
insistent and unwavering.
Lyn’s mouth tightened. “A running
prosthesis won’t be necessary. I doubt I can afford it anyway.”
“We can talk about the cost later,
but don’t worry. We can find a way to make it happen.”
Now, why did he say that? Getting
Kristen a running prosthesis at little or no cost would mean that he had to
call in some huge favors. But if it meant she could run and play with the other
children, he didn’t mind going out of his way for this little girl.
Lyn tilted her head and gave him a
stern look as she enunciated her next words. “No. I don’t want Kristen hurt
again.”
Okay, he got it. In a way, Cade
couldn’t blame Lyn. Her husband had been killed and her daughter lost her leg
in a bad accident. No doubt Lyn didn’t want to lose anymore. He didn’t argue
the point, but their situation troubled him. Kristen’s psychological needs were
just as important as her physical needs. Being overprotective wasn’t good if
Kristen was to ever develop enough self-confidence and autonomy to lead a
fairly independent life.
Cade would treat Kristen the best
he could and keep his distance from them otherwise. He and Lyn would never be
friends. Nothing more than acquaintances. And for some odd reason, that made
Cade feel strangely sad inside.
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