it, he was washed up as a surgeon. Not much better off as a man. At least not at the present.
Admitting it didn’t take away the pain, the anger. It only served to create more vile-tasting resentment that he couldn’t control.
He also couldn’t recall the last good day he’d had, even before the accident. Three weeks ago, getting away to his farm—a place he could always count on to regroup—hadn’t eased the piercing guilt over losing a special patient, the reason why he hadn’t been paying attention to the thin piece of wire caught in the tractor shredder. The reason he’d carelessly tried to manhandle it out of the blade, causing the backlash that had sent the metal slicing across his wrist, creating the deep laceration that damaged his median nerve, then the fall that had shattered his leg. All in a few short moments of stupidity, he had ruined a career years in the making.
He recalled twelve-year-old Kayla Brown’s death, why he’d gone to his weekend retreat in the first place. She’d been faced with rejection of her new heart and awaiting another when she’d finally given up after fighting the good fight. Jared hadn’t been able to save the young girl who had been a natural room brightener. A kid who always smiled no matter how much pain she endured or how constant the prospect of death.
His problems were minor compared to what she had faced. So what if it took him an hour longer to brush his teeth, dress himself, pour a glass of milk? So what if he could barely manage to clean himself? He’d be damned and desperate before he would admit that to anyone. No one would understand.
Brooke Lewis immediately came to mind—her wild, dark curls, big brown eyes, natural smile and die-hard attitude. As badly as he hated to admit it, he admired her grit as much as he admired her schoolgirl looks. She didn’t view him as anything other than a patient. He found that refreshing, since most people treated him as if he was some infallible being without a heart or feelings. No one knew the real Jared Granger, because he had never revealed much of himself; he feared that he could never live up to others’ expectations.
The door swung open and Nick Kempner strode in, the best orthopedic doc in the business, and Jared’s closest friend. “What’s up, Granger?”
“Not much.”
Nick slipped out of his lab coat and tossed it and several newspapers from his seat onto the nearby sofa before sinking into the office chair. “Sorry I’m late, but I had to take a call at the front desk.”
“No problem.” And it wasn’t. Jared had nowhere to be at the moment. Nowhere to be most days in recent history, except doctor appointments and dreaded therapy sessions.
Nick folded his hands in front of him and brought out his all-business face. “The call was from your latest therapist.”
Jared braced for another lecture. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. She told me that although you were, and I quote ‘a bit uncooperative,’ she would work around it. She mentioned maybe home therapy. What do you think about that?”
The woman was as persistent as a moth on a porch light. “Therapy isn’t doing me a helluva lot of good.”
“That’s because you’re not giving it a chance.”
“She looks too young to know what she’s doing.” And too pretty to ignore, as much as Jared hated to admit that.
“She’s not a kid, Granger. She’s got a master’s degree, and she’s been working here for several years. In fact, she’s at least twenty-five. Probably older.”
“In my book that’s still a kid.”
“To hear you talk, you’re sixty, not thirty-six.”
“I feel like I’m eighty.”
Nick forked a hand through his dark hair. “Look, Brooke Lewis is one of the best therapists around. If you give her the opportunity, she can help you with those tendons. It’s just going to take some time and hard work on your part.”
If Jared could ball his fist, he’d punch the wall. He could do that with his left hand, but considering his recent misfortune, he’d probably ruin it, too. “What you’re saying is that I might never operate again.”
Nick let go a frustrated sigh. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Jared. I’m saying you need to give the therapy a shot, and the best place to start is with Brooke.” He grinned. “And you’ve got to admit, she’s pretty nice to look at. Can’t imagine you’d mind having her touching you twice a week—wherever she wanted.”
Jared refused to admit that the thought had crossed his mind, too. He’d immediately been aware of her finer points. When she’d touched him, his immediate reaction had taken him back, the reason why he’d been so tough on her. He didn’t need an attraction to a woman, especially a therapist. Not that he could easily stop it. At least that part of him wasn’t exactly dead. Not by a long shot. Brooke Lewis had proven that. But at the moment, he had other more pressing problems, like getting his hand to function again.
“If you think she’s so great, then you make an appointment with her for some hands-on therapy,” Jared said.
Nick shook his head. “No way. I’ve sworn off women since the divorce.”
“Sure, Kempner. Tell me another one.”
“I’m dead serious. Not worth the hassle.”
“Speaking of women, how’s it going with your ex?”
Nick grabbed up a pen and drummed it on the desktop. “Not great. I only have to see her when I pick up Kelsey on the weekends that I’m not on call. We barely speak, which is probably a good thing. Fighting in front of a four-year-old isn’t a great idea.”
Jared hated the pain in his friend’s voice. Pain over limited time with his daughter all because of marrying the wrong woman. But how could anyone know if they’d found the right one?
Nick had a point, Jared decided. Sometimes women weren’t worth the hassle. Marriage definitely wasn’t, exactly why Jared had avoided it, especially with the demands of a doctor’s career. Not that he’d had to worry about that lately.
Nick tossed the pen aside and leaned back in his chair. “Jared, I know you’re having a tough time with this whole thing. If you want someone to talk to, I have the name of—”
“I’m not depressed, dammit. I’m just ticked off.” God, he resented this attitude. Resented that people were always trying to second-guess his feelings, when in reality they didn’t know him at all.
Nick put up his hands, palms first. “Okay, bad idea. But I really think you need to concentrate on physical therapy. You could do a lot worse than Brooke Lewis.”
He could do a lot better if he could just crawl in a hole somewhere and lick his wounds. But that wasn’t reality. He had to deal with this somehow. And maybe the hell-on-wheels therapist with the killer smile and dynamite eyes was the answer, at least temporarily. Maybe Brooke Lewis’s offer wasn’t such a bad idea.
Jared stared at the ceiling for a long moment, sensing Nick’s gaze on him while awaiting an answer. “Okay. Set up the home therapy. I’m not making any promises, but I guess I’ll take on Brooke Lewis.”
Nick laughed. “I
