The Long Road Home (15 page)

Without further ado, he headed directly for the guest shower, taking a short detour to his bedroom to gather up a clean set of clothes to wear afterward. Turning on the faucet, he removed his prosthesis, checked the water temperature, then stepped in. He grabbed onto the support bar and hopped around on his one good leg, well versed at washing himself without the artificial leg for support. Sure, he could leave it on and change to his backup sock that fit over his stump later. A dislike for doing daily laundry taught him to work with what he had, to manage on one leg and get the job done effectively at the same time.

Grabbing the bar of soap, he lathered up a washcloth as his thoughts turned to Gwen. She literally radiated goodness and joy, her optimism a direct counterpoint to his sometimes half empty view on reality. No matter what happened, he figured she'd find the silver lining, searching for any and all positives to point out, teasing and flirting until she drew a sincere smile from him. Bubbly energy, a deep caring, and a body with just the right amount of curves. Talk about an ideal combination. His cock jumped in agreement.

She made him hard with a single look, a grin, a wink. Hell, she could walk around in rags, her hair all awry, completely free of makeup, and he'd still come to a point when she entered the room. Her inner beauty added to her external looks, rolling together into a woman he'd be damn lucky to have at his side. Forever.

Whoa, soldier.

Sure, he'd enjoy dating her. Spending their days and nights together. Snuggling into her bed after a long, intense round of sex. But forever? That smacked of major commitment. While he might consider the option under other circumstances, how could he rightly tie her to him, a disabled man whose potential career choices looked pretty narrow, not to mention what he truly wanted to do wasn't possible. Resentment of his unattainable dream of returning to the Rangers would surely put a large dent in his life and his outlook. No sense in putting Gwen in the line of fire until he knew for certain he'd make it through, find a purposeful existence, and be able to prosper. Not to mention the simple fact he wasn't sure he could actually perform sexually with his injury. The last thing he wanted to do was make their first time together a laughing stock.

You're good with people.
Tyler's words came back to him.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd stumbled across a potential opportunity. Only time would tell.

"Logan?"

He heard Gwen's voice, opened the shower door, and called to her. "Be out in a minute." Hurrying, he finished cleaning, shampooed and conditioned his hair, then shut off the spray of water. Once again, he grasped the bar, thankful for someone's foresight years ago to install it, and hopped onto the bathroom rug. He picked up the towel, dried himself then, when no more droplets remained, replaced his prosthesis. Only then did he tug on the sweats he'd left to change into, determinedly dousing the evidence of his arousal with less than alluring thoughts. No sense walking out with tented pants to be scrutinized. They might have shared a few kisses, but he didn't think Gwen was ready for a naked him to travel through her living room. He certainly wasn't. She'd seen his stump when she kindly rubbed the muscle spasms away. However, under the cover of darkness made for a totally different situation than in the light of day. As much as he wanted to believe the amputation didn't make a difference in her eyes, he simply couldn't be sure. Yet.

Finished, he tossed the towel in the hamper, and headed into the main room.

Gwen glanced at him, raked his entire body, then smiled slowly. Appreciation and enjoyment spread across her face. "How's my handsome houseguest today?"

His confidence was bolstered at her avid study and reflecting approval. Maybe she wouldn't mind his nakedness minus the limb. He wavered on the fence, finally deciding most likely she'd stick to her word, find him acceptable, and not worry over much about his lack of a left lower leg. If that all came to pass, he could die a happy man.

"Good, actually. Had an interesting day in therapy." He walked over to give her a hug, unable to keep his hands off her. The dark green pants and matching blouse outlined her figure, made his mouth water, and presented more data for future wet dreams.

Wrapping her in his arms, he sighed in contentment. She made him feel whole and the simple act of affection set everything right in his world, at least for the moment. A priceless gift she gave him each day. Forcing himself to step back, he took her hand and led her to the couch. He'd tell her about his day. Then, perhaps they needed to have a small talk.

Once they settled, she twisted around to face him; he kept hold of her hand, bringing it up for a brushing of his lips. "I went to the afternoon therapy sessions since I had an appointment with the psychiatrist this morning."

Her face furrowed. "The psychiatrist? Is everything okay?"

He bobbed his head; her concern touched him more than he cared to admit. "Standard procedure. He decided I was pretty balanced and normal for my situation."

"Meaning?" Gwen's head tilted in puzzlement. "You're odd, but not odd enough to warrant future visits?" Her lips twitched.

He grinned at her teasing, using his free hand to tap her on the nose. "You're asking for it." When she smiled, he continued. "Anyway, the afternoon sessions, you wouldn't believe those poor men. Some are in wheelchairs with only the very basic abilities, and their speech is limited to grunting. Others have lost more than one appendage." He thought of Heath. "One guy I talked to had lost both legs and one arm."

Gwen sat quietly, flashes of emotion crossed her face. She squeezed his hand, probably in a non-verbal cue to continue.

"His name is Heath. We talked. I helped him out a bit. Tyler thanked me later, told me I was a people person." He chuckled harshly. "Can you imagine that?"

"Actually, I can." She twined her fingers with his other hand. "You're a good person, Logan. Deep down good. Helping people way back when. Heck, you certainly did a lot for me in college." Pulling his hands onto her lap, she scooted closer as her gaze held his. "Have you considered becoming a physical therapist like Tyler?"

He thought about her suggestion for a moment. In truth, he briefly bounced the idea around his head earlier today but didn't ponder long. Too many obstacles and hurdles to get over right now to worry about the future.

"Not really."

"You loved working out, and helping others comes naturally. Just think what you could offer other injured veterans with your personal experience, just like Tyler does. You look to him with respect, admiration, and inspiration. Others could do the same to you."

"Possibly." He'd put the idea on the back burner. Something to return to down the road.

"If you're even remotely interested, ask Tyler. He can tell you what it takes to be a therapist. At least give you an idea what schooling you'd need and how long it might take." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You can do anything you set your mind to, Logan. I believe in you."

His heart skipped a beat at her words. Soaking up her reverence and praise, he met her lips with his. "What did I do right to deserve you?"

She smiled brightly. "I keep telling you. You're a wonderful man. Any woman would count herself lucky to have you."

He arched an eyebrow. "Giving me away again?"

"No way." She released his hands and twined her arms around his neck. "I'm keeping you."

Which led him to the discussion they needed to have, but still, he reluctantly broached the subject. Puffing out a breath, he stared at her face. "Does that mean you want to be a couple? Give this relationship a try?"

She nodded and worried her lower lip. "I do."

He couldn't identify the concern written on her face. "But?"

Gwen glanced down. "I had a huge crush on you in college, made all these glorious plans, then you left. I guess I'm just a bit leery that you'll stumble across a pretty woman one day soon and you'll be off again, this time forever."

"Hey." Using his finger, he lifted on her chin until she met his gaze. "First of all, I'm not going anywhere. Secondly, why would I want another woman? We've already decided you're keeping me."

"And you want to be kept?" Her words whispered across the small space between them.

"Hell, yeah. More than you know."

Her grin could outshine the sun. "Then it's settled, boyfriend."

Boyfriend. He decided he liked the term, and it would suffice. For now.

Chapter 26

Finishing his last few seconds on the treadmill, Logan pressed the stop button and grabbed his towel to wipe at the perspiration streaming down his face and the back of his neck. He took a moment to glance around the room, finding the area deserted but for him and Tyler, who presently sat at his desk in the front area.

He'd considered for the past couple of days what happened with Heath, and Tyler's words. He had even mentioned the event to Gwen. She applauded him for his insight and compassion even as she tossed out the idea that he might consider a career at Walter Reed as a therapist once he graduated from the program as a patient.

Her words echoed his own thoughts, though he hadn't actually verbalized them yet. Not until he learned more about the process.

"Tyler?"

The dark-haired therapist looked up from his schedule book. "What's up, Logan?" Standing, he walked over, his above-the-knee prosthesis easily visible under his shorts, his usual attire in the gym despite the frigid temperatures outside.

Logan wondered if Tyler chose his wardrobe with an ulterior motive besides simple comfort. Most of the patients walking through the door were amputees. They could easily see Tyler knew and understood their situation. He put Logan at ease at their first meeting that way. Instead of a man, who had no inkling about the military or what the patients had been through, barking orders, Tyler greeted them all, his permanent injury out in the open for all to see. Add in Tyler's teasing and prodding personality, and Logan had relaxed around the retired Marine, more so than he would have ever imagined. After all, he reminded Logan of his closest friends in the Rangers. Tough and serious when they had to be, silly pranksters when they had downtime.

Stepping off the treadmill, he finished wiping the sweat from his face. "Got any lunch plans?"

Tyler tilted his head and grinned wickedly. "You asking me out?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Smart ass." He shook his head. "Actually, I wanted to ask you some questions."

"Sure, buddy. I'll even buy." He smiled in return.

"The cafeteria is free for veterans, dufus."

"I know." Slapping Logan on the back, Tyler led the way through the maze of machines to the front door. He pushed the door open and waited for Logan to follow him into the hallway. "What did you want to talk about?"

"How did you become a physical therapist?"

"Ah. I was afraid you wanted tips on sex."

Logan paused for a second and considered his words. He wouldn't have brought up the topic himself, not today, but since Tyler opened the can of worms, he'd take advantage. "Now that you mention it…"

Together they walked toward the cafeteria.

Chapter 27

"Ten. Eleven. Twelve." Logan relaxed, taking a breather from the heavy weights of the hip adduction/abduction machine. A necessary exercise to keep his good leg strong enough to compensate for the prosthesis, but definitely not his favorite. Given his druthers, he would be running through the woods, taking on the fabled obstacle course in training camp, clearing jumps and sprinting to the finish.

Like that's ever going to happen again.
He stared at the titanium leg and frowned. So many limitations and so few options. Raking a hand through his short blond hair, he released a long sigh. Good days mixed with bad. Today happened to be pretty darn depressing after a near fall on the treadmill, reminding him once more of his permanent disability.

"Hey, Ranger." Tyler walked toward him, a magazine in hand, his artificial leg not slowing him down a single step. In fact, each movement was fluent, easy, a tribute to hours of hard work and dedication.

Tired, surly, and downright frustrated, Logan snarled at the physical therapist. He still struggled at times, particularly with stairs. Unable to perform such a simple feat without difficulty infuriated him.

"Not anymore."

"If you could, would you be a Ranger again?" The dark-haired man stopped beside him, leaning casually on the workout apparatus.

Logan stared up at the other man, his mouth falling open. For a split second, he wondered before common sense rushed to the fore. "No sense wishing for the impossible." He turned back to his task.

The magazine landed in his lap. Perplexed, he picked it up and sent Tyler a confused look. "What's this?"

Tyler grinned. "Read it." Turning, he ambled back across the room, stopping to check on another patient on the way.

Glancing at the opened page, Logan read the title. His heart sped as he hurriedly scanned the article. Several single amputee military veterans had returned to active duty, all by choice. After months of training to return to active duty shape, they passed the fitness exam and were allowed to either resume their former position or choose another that they were capable of doing well. The article went on to talk about the latest bionic prosthetics, particularly legs, where battery powered pistons served as a calf muscle. They proved stronger than uninjured legs, allowing amputees to perform with comfort and at a high level so basically they could do anything they wanted. No longer was the loss of a limb an automatic retirement from the military.