Wild With You (Independence Falls 4)

“According to his medical history,” Kat continued as they moved away from the counter, joining a cluster of locals waiting for to-­go orders or an open table. “The staff at the rehab facility used memory games as part of his therapy.”

“Yeah, he hated those,” Brody said. “Said they just reminded him of what he couldn’t do. And they seemed childish.”

“The key is balancing the frustration with success.”

“And having pie as a reward helps,” Brody said. “Or at least that’s your theory.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. To be honest, your brother is in pretty good shape. A lot of the patients I see with brain injuries suffer from debilitating side effects.”

“Does cooking help them all?”

“No. And that is only one element. Our trial is designed to show that individuals suffering from TBI—­traumatic brain injury—­need help dealing with their emotions while they work to recover their memory.”

He heard the passion in her voice, punctuating each sentence. “You know, you seem to care a helluva lot more than his previous doctors.”

“Part of what makes me one of the best,” she said with a warm smile.

Brody cocked his head, studying her. “Why neuroscience?”

“It’s one of the more difficult areas of medicine.”

“You like the challenge.” And you hate to lose, he thought. He suspected she’d spent enough time on the losing end of things growing up.

“I like coming out on top. But I’m also

interested in how the brain works. How ­people build memories attached to emotions.” Her expression became serious. “After I leave, you might want to look for another therapist. Someone Josh can talk to, call day or night if he feels overwhelmed. I’m not joking about the link between depression and brain injuries.”

“Kat Arnold?”

Brody glanced over his shoulder and spotted Delilah Travis. A slim woman with short black hair, he’d known the young nurse for years. He still owed Delilah a thank-­you for taking care of Josh when his brother was in the hospital, though he suspected she’d prefer a more intimate sign of the Summers family’s gratitude from Chad. Brody placed Delilah at the top of the list of single women in Independence Falls who mourned Chad’s move from single playboy to off the market.

“You probably don’t remember me,” Delilah said to Kat. “I was Missy Jackson’s best friend back when we were kids. You were a few years ahead of us in school, but I spent a lot of time at the Jacksons’ house while you were living there.”

Kat nodded, her lips forming a thin line. “I remember Missy. How is she?”

“Not as good as you. Two years at the community college isn’t Harvard. She is living by the university now. Last time I spoke to her, she was thinking about getting a waitressing job when her youngest starts school next year. Missy’s little boy is just the cutest. What about you? Are you thinking about moving back or just visiting?”

“I’m here for work,” Kat said.

“Kat’s is one of the leading neurologists in the country,” Brody said. “She flew out to help Josh.”

“Wow.” Delilah’s eyes widened. “Pretty amazing what going to Harvard can do for you, huh? I guess more ­people from here should apply to those fancy East Coast schools. Though it probably helps that you had such an interesting childhood.”

“Yes, it probably did,” Kat said.

The words sounded like verbal daggers. Brody could feel the tension rolling off Kat in waves, threatening to turn into a hurricane.

Oblivious, Delilah turned to him, placing her arm on his forearm. “Brody, you have to tell me all about the wedding.”

“It was nice,” he said. “The bride and groom seemed happy.”

“I want details,” Delilah insisted. “Tell me about the dress.”

“You’ll have to ask my sister. I can tell you Georgia was a beautiful bride, but not much more.”

Stepping back, he pulled his arm away and stole a glance at Kat. Anger lingered in her green eyes. Delilah’s words about Harvard and her childhood had breached her armor. But possession mingled with the hurt. If Delilah touched him again—­and heck, the black-­haired nurse had always been forward to a point that left him feeling uneasy—­Kat might release the storm brewing in her expression and attack. Verbally or physically, he wasn’t sure. As much as he liked the hint of he’s mine driving her fury, he didn’t want to find out.

Brody reached for Kat’s elbow. Back in New York, she might not need anyone to jump in and save the day. But right now she needed a rescue.