She knew enough about anatomy to imagine what had caused his injuries and what had been done to repair the damage. That he hadn’t bled to death was a miracle. The medical care must have been extraordinary.
There were places on his body that weren’t fully healed and she managed to work around them, gently coaxing his muscles to release. Other areas were thick and hard with scar tissue and she wished she could have worked on him from the beginning, right after he was hurt. She might have been able to loosen the skin and kept it from welting.
But she thought Jamie wouldn’t have allowed that then. She reminded herself that he was so stubborn, it was only by accident that she was working on him now.
She spent over an hour working on his back before she felt she’d done all she could. Her arms were aching, but she wasn’t about to stop.
“Turn over,” she said, and did what she could to help him. The brace made his movements awkward.
“Thank you,” he said, his eyes closed.
She knew what he meant, as she was beginning to feel the tension leave him.
As she unfastened his brace and began to work on his injured leg, she had an idea that the story he’d told of his knee injury was a sugarcoated version. Had he panicked at some sound and forgotten he was on skis? Dived for cover and landed on his knee?
His eyes were closed and she wasn’t going to ask him.
She refastened the brace and started on his other leg, noting his injuries and working with them.
When she felt him beginning to sleep, she knew her treatment was starting to work. His face was relaxing. He was falling asleep without the use of any pills! That she had accomplished this made her feel as though she’d just climbed a mountain.
When she finally finished, she’d been working on him for nearly two hours. She was weak, shaky even, from exertion. It had been a very long morning. She’d jumped out of bed very early, then had the trauma of finding out about Jamie, then…then…
Smiling, she ran her hand over his cheek. If anyone deserved rest, it was this wounded soldier.
Stepping back, she put her hands on her lower back and stretched. She’d like to go to the house, but she didn’t dare leave him alone. His big body filled the table. If he had one of his nightmares, he’d roll off and hit the ground.
She looked around for someone to watch him, but there was no one in the garden. Yesterday Ian said the family was going to a beach so that’s probably where they were. She was about to pull up a chair when the red gate opened and in walked a man she’d never seen before. He looked older, with gray at his temples, and he was built like a bigger version of Jamie. The word “bull” came to mind. Obviously, he was one of the Taggerts.
He saw her right away, as though he was looking for her. Smiling, she motioned for him to come over.
When he got closer, he asked in a deep rumble of a voice, “Need some help?”
“Could you please watch Jamie while I go inside?” she said in a whisper. “Let him sleep and don’t do anything to wake him. If he starts, uh, dreaming, do something nice, like sing him a lullaby. But whatever you do, do not let him fall off this table.”
The man was looking at her oddly, as though he was trying to figure her out.
Hallie was walking backward toward the house. “But you probably know all this, don’t you?”
“Not all of it,” he said. “Go. I’ll take care of him.”
She was reluctant to leave. “You can’t step away for even a minute. When he starts thrashing about, he’s fast and he’s strong.”
“I won’t let him fall. I promise,” the man said and for the first time, he smiled. “Now go before he wakes up and wants you to give him a mani-pedi.”
Laughing, Hallie turned and ran to the house.
“Dad,” Jamie said when he woke up. His father was sitting on one of the wooden chairs and reading a newspaper. Jamie realized a blanket was covering him and he was still on top of the massage table. “I think I dozed off.”
“For over an hour,” his father said. “Half the family’s been over here to gawk at you. I almost couldn’t keep Cory from climbing on you.”
Jamie ran his hand over his face. “Did I…?”
Kane knew his son was referring to the nightmares. “It was a mild one. This girl Hallie seems to be good for you.” Kane was watching his son, trying hard not to let the fear show in his eyes. He’d nearly lost his son in a war, and since Jamie had returned, every day Kane worried that Jamie’s grief and guilt and all that he’d been through would overwhelm him. Kane had read too much about the suicide of young soldiers to dismiss the possibility.
“She is,” Jamie said, but didn’t elaborate.
But Kane saw the way his son’s face softened, the way he was looking around to see if she was there. When Jamie tried to sit up, Kane had to resist the urge to help him. And when the blanket fell away, he couldn’t repress a wince at the sight of his son’s scarred body. This isn’t what you envisioned for your child when you diapered him and held your hands out for his first step.