“When did the reinjury occur?”
“A couple of weeks ago. One of my clients was attacked, and I stepped in.” He shrugged as if it hadn’t been a big deal, but Tessa had a feeling it had.
“Did you have an X-ray or MRI?”
“Both. Everything is clear. My doctor thinks it’s just pulled muscles and inflammation from old scar tissue.”
“Let’s check your range of motion. Go ahead and sit on the table.”
He nodded, moving silently and easily, his white T-shirt skimming firm muscles and a flat abdomen. He wore black gym shorts and running shoes, and his left knee was crisscrossed with scars and swollen above the patella.
“Looks like your knee is bothering you, too.”
“If we tried to fix all my problems, we’d be here for the rest of the day. How about we just concentrate on the shoulder?” His tone was easy, but there was an edge of steel in it.
“It’s all connected. If one thing is out of alignment, the rest of the body suffers.” She put a hand on his elbow, maneuvering his arm in the damaged socket. “Does this hurt?”
“Yes.” He didn’t wince, though, and there was no hint of pain in his voice or eyes.
“Mind if I take a look at the surgery scar?” She rolled up his sleeve, but could see only the edge of the scar, still deep purple and angry-looking.
“This doesn’t look two years old.”
“I’ve had two surgeries since the first one.”
“You should have mentioned that before we started.” She frowned and jotted a note in his file. “When was the last surgery?”
“Eight months ago.”
“Your surgeon?”
“Guy on the East Coast.” He offered the name, and she jotted that down, too.
“Okay. Let’s work through a few exercises, see how far we can push things without making them worse.”
“Sounds good.” He flashed a smile.
Despite the quick grin, Tessa had the feeling that Seth was assessing her. Whatever conclusions he was coming to, he kept them well hidden as she worked him through a series of exercises.
Thirty minutes later, sweat beaded his brow and his muscles were taut with effort, but he didn’t say a word about pain or discomfort. He seemed determined to push through whatever he was feeling.
“That’s good.” Tessa put a hand on his arm, stopping him before he could begin another rep. “We don’t want to overstress the joint or cause more pain than you’re already in.”
“I’m good.”
“No, you’re not. You’re pushing too hard. That’s only going to lengthen the recovery process. Lie down.” She patted the exam table. “I’ll have Dana come in and start some heat and stimulation while I print out exercises you can do at home.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy?” Seth asked, standing up and stretching despite her instructions.
His question surprised a laugh out of her.
“More than one person. I took it as a compliment every time.”
“This should be an interesting relationship, then.” He used the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat from his brow and, without a smile, aimed his blue eyes straight at her. “I need to run. We can try heat and stim next time.”
She didn’t argue. Seth had to make the commitment to his recovery, and he had to be the one to follow through on it. “That’s fine. I’ll want to see you twice a week for at least a month. Why don’t you set that up with Dana? I’ll print out the exercises and meet you up front.”
She tossed the words over her shoulder as she walked into the hall.
“Tessa!” Dana hurried toward her, a small package in her hand. “Are you finished?”
“Yes. I want to see him twice a week for the next few weeks. Can you set that up?”
“No problem. But, before I do, this was sitting on the reception desk when I got back from bringing Ms. Edna to room 3.” She held up the package as if she’d just won the lottery.
“What’s in it?” Tessa asked, impatient to move on to the next client. Like Seth, Edna was early, and that suited Tessa just fine. Keeping busy would keep the memories at bay, and she needed that.
“I don’t know. It’s addressed to you. Why don’t you open it and find out?” Dana thrust the package into Tessa’s hands, the brown paper packaging cool and a little rough. A white envelope was taped to the top, Tessa’s name scrawled across it in bold black letters.
“So...” Dana leaned close, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Who’s it from? A boyfriend? A secret admirer?”
“No to both,” Tessa responded, her gaze jumping to Seth’s room. He stood in the open doorway, his good shoulder resting against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest. Even his forearms were well muscled.
She pulled her gaze away, focusing on the package again. “I’ll open it later. I need to print a couple of things for Seth. Set up his next few appointments, okay? Then run the sonogram on Edith’s knee. We’ll start her on the treadmill when you’re finished.”
She didn’t wait for Dana’s response, just hurried into Sam’s oversize office. As a part-time employee, she didn’t have her own space, but Sam had given her free use of his.
She set the package on his desk, doing her best to ignore it as she booted up the computer and found the exercises she wanted to print. No one sent her packages. Getting one on the fifth anniversary of Daniel’s death seemed...ominous.
She shut the thought down, jotting a few notes in Seth’s file as the printer ran. Crisp winter sun poured in through the window behind her. But it couldn’t warm the chill that filled her heart.
Five years, but she could still hear the wails of terrified children, still feel the blazing African sun, still smell the blood.
She gagged, stepping away from the desk and the package, and wishing she could step away from the memories.
Just then, the package moved, something inside of it scratching against the box. Tessa jumped back, knocked into a rock-hard chest and swung around, a scream dying on her lips as she looked into Seth’s vivid-blue eyes.
“Careful.”
Seth held his newest physical therapist’s arm and looked into her misty-green eyes. Her skin had gone three shades of pale, and she looked as if she was about to jump out of her skin. Based on the way she was eyeing the package Dana had handed her, he’d say it had something to do with whatever was in it.
“You’re supposed to be setting up appointments with Dana,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with irritation and something else. Something that looked an awful lot like fear.
Leave it alone, his brain warned, but he’d never been all that good at taking orders.
“I already did. Now I need the printouts so I can get on with my day.” He touched the box, his curiosity piqued. “What’s this?”
“A wrapped box,” she responded dryly, grabbing a few pages from a printer and thrusting them toward him. “Here are the exercises. I’ll see you next week.”
Her dismissal couldn’t have been more obvious, but Seth wasn’t quite ready to go. Tessa and her mystery box were way more interesting than desk duty, and that’s what he’d be heading for when he left her office.
He tucked the printouts into his coat pocket and lifted the box. It was light and just a little off balance, as if whatever was in it fit in one corner, leaving