stay on her toes and try to keep one step ahead of Will.
She watched as Tommy and Mrs. Hall disappeared through the door at the end of the corridor. Grasping the handles on Will’s chair, Krista finally answered his question. “I’m not married.”
Will turned around in his chair to look up at her. “That must make those tight-a—”
His eyes darted to the left, and he let the soft a sound trail away into thin air. Understanding dawned as she followed his gaze and noticed that Mrs. Felpont, Heather’s elderly patient, had moved within hearing distance.
“Er, make that those tight-lipped sisters of yours feel like gloating even more.”
Krista smiled at Mrs. Felpont, wondering how many men these days would have cleaned up their language because a kindly gray-haired lady was nearby. Once again she fought her rising sense of wonder.
Staring down into Will’s eyes, she couldn’t help noticing the derision in his expression. He never had thought much of her sisters. She shook her head in answer to his question, deciding not to go on to explain that she didn’t have a lot of contact with her family anymore. Not that she’d ever had much in common with them in the first place.
“Come on, Krista,” he said, drawing her back to the present. “We have less than an hour left for my therapy today. If we want to get me on my feet, we have to get moving.”
Krista hurried after Will, thinking it wasn’t going to be easy to stay one step ahead of this man. The fact that he couldn’t walk made absolutely no difference whatsoever.
She caught up with him inside the double doors and found him looking all around. In one corner of the room, another therapist was helping a young girl into a whirlpool tub. Brody was barking encouragement to a large black man who was lifting weights. Heather was working with Mrs. Felpont, and still another with a teenage boy.
Krista glanced down at Will’s face. His grin had slipped away and had been replaced with a serious expression people rarely associated with Billy the Kid. He really was different in many ways. She wondered if the years had changed him, or if the accident had.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you loosened up.”
He glanced from one end of her body to the other. By the time it came back to her face, the seriousness had left his expression. “I thought you’d never ask.”
She felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach and a grudging smile on her lips. Will always had been able to turn an innocent phrase into something provocative. She was definitely going to have a hard time keeping one step ahead of him. The surprising thing was, she was looking forward to it.
He set the brake on his wheelchair and placed one hand on the chair’s armrest and the other hand on the low table, swinging himself over with amazing ease. Krista moved the wheelchair out of the way and said, “Lie on your back with your head on that pillow. I’m going to stretch your muscles and help keep those joints limber.”
Will did as she instructed, lying back and grasping the handrails to maneuver himself up to the top of the table. Krista started with his right leg, lifting it, rotating it, bending his knee and pushing toward his body. Her touch was firm yet gentle, and he tried to imagine that his muscles were moving on their own.
“I know this is uncomfortable,” she said. “Tell me if it becomes unbearable.”
He watched her intently as he said, “Three months ago I couldn’t feel anything from my waist down. Believe me, a little discomfort isn’t a bad thing.”
She continued to work on him, pulling gently, then twisting and pushing. At one point, she tucked his ankle under her arm, the side of her breast cushioning his lower leg like a feather pillow. Using her body for leverage, she leaned forward, bending his knee, then straightening his leg.
“How does that feel?” she asked, repeating the exercise.
His gaze skimmed her breasts before settling on her face. “That feels great.”
She nodded and continued with his therapy.
“Let’s talk,” he said, his voice catching on the last word as she pressed his bent knee toward his body.
“All right. Let’s start by establishing those ground rules I mentioned earlier.”
“Ground rules, huh? I suppose I can assume that asking about your sex life is off limits?”
Her eyes narrowed speculatively. “I’ve already told you I’ve sworn off men. Even if I hadn’t, that particular topic would definitely be off limits.”
“Okay, why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing underneath that cute little uniform?”
He winced as she twisted his leg, and even though her attention appeared to be completely trained on his knee, Will caught her little smile. After a long pause, he finally said, “Then tell me about your son.”
That brought a bigger smile to her lips. “Tommy’s a great kid,” she said, moving to the other side of the table, where she began to repeat the entire procedure with his left leg. “Like I said, he’s six going on thirty. We live in Coopersburg, a small town about twelve miles from here.”
“You said he’s gifted. That must make your family happy.”
Her touch remained gentle while she worked his left leg, but her voice contained a strange edge of irony as she said, “Actually, they don’t approve of the way I’m raising him.”
“What’s not to approve of? He looks pretty happy to me. He knows baseball and he looks just like you.”
“That was the first thing I did wrong,” she answered. “I gave him my genes.”
“Those are some genes, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
Instead of smiling the way he’d expected, she remained completely serious. “I’m sure they would have preferred it if he’d been tall and blond and straitlaced like they are.”
He scowled to himself. Krista’s family probably didn’t approve of the fact that Tommy liked baseball, either. Her sisters sounded just as huffy and highfalutin as they always had. It didn’t sound as if Katrina, Kimberly or Kendra had changed over the past eight years.
“Tommy looks like a well-adjusted, impish little kid. I’d say you should be proud.”
Krista heard the depth of sincerity in Will’s voice. Looking from his legs straight into his eyes, she lowered herself to the table next to him, lowering her eyes at the same time. “Do you know what makes me the most proud?”
“What?” he asked softly.
“The fact that he’s having a normal childhood.” She glanced at him to see if he understood and found him watching her closely. “I mean, I know he’s exceptionally bright. After all, he’s only six years old and he’s already in the second grade. But he likes baseball and soccer as well as playing the violin. He has a new little friend. Her name is Stephanie, and even though most boys his age have other boys for their best friend—”
“You said he was smart,” Will cut in.
Krista
