A Bull Rider's Pride. Amanda Renee

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to compete again as soon as possible. One accident won’t stop me.”

      Sheila rolled her shoulders. She’d heard the nurses talk about Brady’s desire to get back on a bull, but she’d thought the reality of his prognosis would’ve set in by now. “I respect and even understand your wanting to compete again, but another injury—”

      Brady held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. “Please don’t. I have already heard the ‘if the bull’s horn was an inch more to the left it would have pierced your heart’ speech a hundred times. It didn’t. I’m still here. And I’m going to make the best of each day, and that includes riding to win.”

      Sheila rose and stood behind his wheelchair. “Don’t make me regret releasing you today.” She began to push him out of the atrium, ignoring when he attempted to do it himself. “We’ll contact Dance of Hope and arrange your transport. You’ll be ready to go once I’ve given you a final exam and your discharge papers are complete.” Sheila slammed into the back of his chair, almost launching herself over him.

      “I can wheel myself, thank you.” Brady released the brake and began wheeling ahead of her. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to push someone in a wheelchair without their approval?”

      Sheila stood in the middle of the atrium, speechless. Determination was one thing, but Brady Sawyer brought a new definition to the word and it wasn’t pretty.

      * * *

      BRADY DESPISED FEELING HELPLESS. Between his father, Alice—who was his best friend and his son’s mother—and his friends, somebody was always trying to do something for him. He needed to do things for himself—he wanted to. And that included maneuvering his own wheelchair. If Dr. Lindstrom hadn’t been so attractive he probably would’ve realized what she was about to do and stopped her. But her soft silver eyes had captured his attention and held it until she’d started arguing with him about competing. He’d already heard it from everybody else. It would be nice if other people believed in him the way his four-year-old son did. Gunner was his biggest supporter and the only one who still had faith in him.

      Brady barreled into his hospital room and spun his chair around to face the door before Dr. Lindstrom arrived. He squeezed his eyes shut willing himself to get through the next few hours. They were finally releasing him. He’d dreamed of hearing that phrase, yet he’d been completely unprepared for it. Especially when it came from the beautiful doctor he’d watched from afar throughout his stay.

      “You’re right.” Dr. Lindstrom stood in the doorway. “That was very rude of me and I apologize. If you’ll humor me, just for a second, maybe I can explain where I’m coming from. I promise it won’t be a lecture.”

      Brady nodded. He propped his left elbow up on the arm of his chair, running the back of his fingers across his chin. Sure, he could listen for a few minutes in exchange for his freedom. Regardless of what she or anyone else said, failure wasn’t an option. He realized the odds were against him, but this was the only job he knew.

      Dr. Lindstrom entered the room with a nurse in tow. Safety in numbers. Maybe he had been a little too harsh in the atrium.

      “As your physician, I want you to recover as completely as your body will allow. In order to do that we need to set a series of attainable goals so you’re consistently seeing improvement. Of course I want you to strive for the best possible scenario, but when you set extremely high goals from the outset, it tends to hinder recovery. The human body has a remarkable way of rebuilding itself—”

      “Then you understand the ability to recover and return to a normal life.”

      Sheila grimaced. “I understand the body’s ability to heal, yes. And many patients do go on to live normal lives. Not all of them, though. Some must learn to adjust.”

      She sighed. “I’ve sacrificed a lot to become an orthopedic surgeon—my family, friends, social life, not to mention four hundred thousand dollars in student loans I still have to repay. I was one of the surgeons who put you back together—you were on the operating table for fifteen hours. I tend to get a little frustrated when a patient wants to put himself in the same environment that brought him here in the first place.”

      Well that made him feel like a first-class ass. “Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Lindstrom. I respect your point of view. All I ask is that you respect mine, as well.”

      Dr. Lindstrom’s lips thinned. She opened a large envelope the nurse handed her and crossed the room to the light box on the wall. Turning it on, she held up his films. “These are from your CT scans yesterday. Your hip replacement healed beautifully. You’re lucky you’re in a facility that uses the anterior approach because your recovery would’ve been much longer if it had been performed the traditional way. Your broken clavicle, sternum and left humerus look good. The fact you can wheel yourself all over this hospital proves your shoulder surgeries were a success. I understand from your physical therapist that you’re still feeling tightness in your thighs, left knee and spinal regions.”

      “It’s not so much tightness as it is weakness.” Brady attempted to sit taller in his chair. “I can stand, but I tire quickly.”

      Dr. Lindstrom slid the scans back into the envelope and handed it to the nurse. “Let’s take a look.” She walked to him, checked the brakes on his wheelchair and held out both of her hands for him to hold on to. “Don’t worry, I’m stronger than I look, I won’t let you fall.”

      I won’t let you fall. Brady had said those same words to Gunner when he was learning to walk. Now here he was, a twenty-nine-year-old man learning to walk again.

      “Brady, most of the therapists at Dance of Hope are women. If this is going to be a problem—”

      “No.” Brady met her eyes and reached for her. “It’s not a problem. I just—I needed a second.” Her touch was stronger, more deliberate than when she’d introduced herself earlier. He didn’t doubt her strength or ability to support him. He doubted his resolve to not want more of it.

      Her cheeks darkened to a deep crimson—perhaps she sensed his attraction to her. “Take your time,” she reassured. “I’ve got you.”

      Brady stared at her hospital identification badge as he slowly stood. Her photograph made him momentarily forget the shaking in his legs. She looked different with her dark hair down around her shoulders. Every time he’d seen her, it had always been either in a ponytail or a braid of some sort. Sheila. Her name was Sheila. He’d never known a Sheila before. It suited her.

      She cleared her throat. His gaze immediately flew to hers and then back to her badge, which he realized rested right against her left breast. “I wasn’t looking at your— Your badge... I was looking at your badge.”

      Sheila started to laugh. “It’s all right, Brady.” She took a step closer, offering him more support. “How does that feel?”

      That was a loaded question. It felt amazing standing less than a foot away from her. Feeling her hands in his. She was tall. Taller than he’d thought from the vantage point of his chair. Maybe only four or five inches shorter than his six-foot-two frame. And she didn’t smell as he’d imagined. Whenever he’d seen her, he’d thought of honeysuckle for some reason. Her scent was more of freshly laundered cotton sheets.

      “Brady?”

      That feeling he had forgotten a few seconds ago suddenly came back. “Not as steady as I’d like, but better than yesterday.”

      “Do СКАЧАТЬ