Yuletide Redemption. Jill Kemerer

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СКАЧАТЬ Experience said to settle his leg on the footrest of the wheelchair or he’d be in for a world of hurt, but vanity won. He thunked his way down the hall and hollered, “Come in.”

      Celeste stepped inside with Parker on her hip and her head lowered. When she glanced up, Sam’s lungs froze. Maybe it was the shyness in her brown eyes or the slight imperfection in her smile—whatever it was, she affected him. If his life was different, he’d be tempted to ask her on a date.

      The muscles in his stomach tightened. His life wasn’t different. He couldn’t even handle leaving the cottage. How could he fantasize about dating?

      “You’re up and about.” Celeste sounded surprised. The day was sunny but cool, and she wore a beige cardigan over dark jeans and matching beige slip-on canvas shoes. “You look pale.”

      Yeah, a mere hour of exercises left me limp.

      “Come in and sit down.” He led the way to the living room and sat on a chair. He made a conscious effort not to hiss as he lifted his bad leg onto the ottoman. Sweet relief. The aching lessened but the tingling sensation increased.

      She perched on the edge of the couch and bounced Parker on her knees. Sam peered more closely at him. His eyes were lighter brown than hers, and he had chubby cheeks and a happy air about him. Sam had the craziest urge to take the boy in his arms and set him on his lap.

      “Cute kid.” He smiled at him, then studied Celeste from her shiny hair to her slim frame.

      “Thanks.” She seemed to be aware of his scrutiny and shrank into herself. She nodded to his leg. “How are you? Are you feeling okay?”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Are you sure? You’re not in pain?”

      Here he’d been trying to appear somewhat normal, and he’d obviously failed. She viewed him as a patient. Not as a man.

      “Did you bring your calendar?” he said. “Let’s figure out a schedule.”

      “I keep everything in here.” She held up her phone.

      Phone. His was in the bedroom. As much as he wanted to get it himself, the sensations in his leg screamed not to. “Mine is in my room. Would you mind getting it for me?”

      “Sure.” She rose, taking Parker with her. The boy watched him over her shoulder. Sam almost waved at the little guy.

      “First door to your right. It’s on the table.” Next to his hospital bed. A further reminder he was an invalid. Real men didn’t sleep in beds with railings.

      Why was his pride flaring up now? She’d see the entire house when she cleaned. Would he feel the same if Celeste were older, unattractive, unavailable? Probably not.

      If he could go back in time, back to when he was whole...

      “Here you go.” She handed him the phone, her slender fingers brushing his.

      “Thank you.” Ignoring the way his adrenaline kicked in at her simple touch, he swiped the screen and clicked through to his calendar. “Why don’t we start with cleaning?”

      For the next ten minutes, they hashed out a schedule. Toward the end, he struggled to concentrate. His leg had been growing stiff as they talked.

      “Could you grab me an ice pack from the freezer?” He grimaced, shifting to ease his discomfort. “It slips into a wrap.” Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. When would this get easier?

      She set Parker on the area rug a few feet in front of him, went to the kitchen and returned, handing Sam the ice pack. “Is there anything I can do? You look like you’re hurting.”

      He was. Every day brought pain. “The ice wrap will help. I overdid my exercises this morning.”

      She helped him fasten the wrap on, and he leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and counting to five. If she said anything, he didn’t hear it. When the worst of the pain passed, he opened his eyes.

      Parker still sat on the rug, but his little legs pumped back and forth as he laughed, both fists full of the fluffy material. Sam’s discomfort faded at the sight of such delight.

      “You do exercises?” She resumed her spot on the couch, leaving Parker where he was to enjoy the rug.

      “I did physical therapy nearly every day for the first year after the accident. I was making decent progress until I fell almost at the year mark. Ever since the operation in June, my knee’s been weak and stiff. I still do a sequence of exercises each morning.” It wasn’t enough. He knew it. Had known it for months. But the longer he stayed away from therapy, the more daunting it became.

      “I had to learn how to eat again. A few spots are painful to touch.” She pointed to the scar on her cheekbone then to her chin. “It’s hard.” Her tone softened. “What you’re doing is hard.”

      It was hard. No one understood how hard.

      Except maybe her. Which made him like her even more.

      “Can you drive me to the rehab center next week?” he asked gruffly. “I have appointments scheduled Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Ten o’clock each morning.”

      “Sure.” She typed the information into her phone. “Anything else?”

      “Not right now.” He wasn’t ready for her to go, though. She distracted him from the monotony his life had become. “Tell me about your life before the accident.”

      “There’s not much to tell.” Celeste rummaged through the diaper bag and handed Parker a small stuffed dog. He promptly shoved the ear in his mouth. “I answered phones for an insurance agency. My major didn’t exactly help my job prospects.”

      “What was your major?”

      “History.”

      “You don’t want to teach?” His muscles loosened as the ice worked.

      “Actually, I’ve been thinking about getting certified.” She gave him a shy glance. “It depends. A lot has changed.”

      Parker squealed and the floppy dog flew through the air. He crawled after it. Sam grinned. Yes, he could see how things had changed. She had a baby to care for.

      “What about you?” she asked. “Do you think you’ll work again?”

      The thought of not working again horrified him almost as much as the thought of living out his days in a wheelchair. “Yes.”

      “The dealership?”

      “Uh-huh.” He tightened the wrap. As much as he’d tried to deny it, he craved his job. He’d been toying with the idea of printing off last month’s profit-and-loss statement again. Maybe this time he could get through it without vomiting. “I oversaw Sheffield Auto. My brothers and I had meetings every Friday morning at the closest dealership—one of Tommy’s—to go over quotas, employees, budgets, you name it.”

      And he’d been in charge. Finally a respected part of the family business instead of the pesky little brother. Man, he missed СКАЧАТЬ