of their patients and prioritise his cases depending on the urgency of their conditions.
One of the reasons he’d relocated to the clinic had been the hope it would be less demanding on his time, making more room for Gracie, with fewer emergencies coming in at all hours of the night when they were primarily a rehabilitation facility.
However, his caseload was always full, dealing with back-related conditions that required surgical intervention. The clinic’s reputation, combined with the privacy and beautiful surroundings provided by the location, made it the ideal hiding place for the rich and famous wishing to recuperate away from the glare of the spotlight and the paparazzi.
He understood that mind-set to some extent. Unknown to his fellow islanders, he was a bit of a celebrity in his own right. In Spain, at least. The eldest son of a duke attracted more attention than he’d ever been comfortable with, and though he’d been glad to leave that cosseted lifestyle behind to come to America and study anonymously, it had caused a huge fallout with his family, but he didn’t regret the sacrifice he’d made when it meant he and Gracie retained their privacy.
The majority of Rafael’s clients here tended to be sports stars keen to recover from injury as quickly and quietly as possible and the on-site rehab facilities provided everything they needed post-surgery.
He didn’t follow American sports himself but even he’d heard of Tom Horner, the ex-football star turned commentator, who was here for a lumbar discectomy to relieve his sciatica pain. The procedure Rafael was carrying out today was to remove the herniated portion of the lumbar disc pressing against a nerve.
‘Buenos días, Doc.’ The All-American hero slapped his meaty hand into Rafael’s and shook it vigorously. Even now, in his fifties, the man was a powerhouse, the strength of the handshake alone reverberating through Rafael’s limbs so he dreaded to imagine how much damage a hit from him in his heyday would have caused.
‘Buenas tardes, Señor Horner. Are you all set for your surgery today?’ The surgery unit was still in its infancy at present but sufficient that they could carry out procedures on an outpatient basis. Any major operations were still carried out at their sister hospital, Boston Harbour, and patients were often transferred here for secondary surgeries as well as rehabilitation. Sometimes they had a team out from Boston to assist and other times Rafael’s expertise was required back on the mainland and the sharing of skills was working successfully so far.
‘I can’t wait to have it done and get back to normal.’ From his appearance alone no one would be able to tell this man had been in pain for some considerable time. A lot of people tended to look vulnerable sitting in a hospital bed in their gowns, waiting to put their lives literally in the hands of the doctors here. Not Tom Horner. His hulking frame dominated the space, the fabric of the flimsy gown stretched to accommodate him and he was as intimidating a presence as ever.
‘You know you’ll have to take it easy for a while after surgery? We’ll discuss it at length post-op but we need to make sure you avoid any undue strain to keep your spine in proper alignment.’ He knew Tom’s kind, having started out in sports therapy. Sportsmen didn’t make the easiest patients, wanting to shake off injury as soon as possible to get back on their feet and back in the game, often ignoring rehab advice to their detriment.
‘Don’t worry, Doc. I’ve hired a place on the west side of the island where I’m doing nothing but resting up until I’m fighting fit again. As far as anyone knows, I’m on extended vacation and I want to keep it that way.’
‘Of course.’ Although wear and tear on the body was all part of the ageing process, Rafael had treated men and women who saw it as a sign of weakness, almost something to be ashamed about. Whilst it wasn’t his business who his patients did or didn’t tell about their health problems, it was his duty to ensure there was some after-care in place at home. ‘Do you have any family or friends over with you who can help you out during your recuperation?’
He hadn’t seen any evidence of a support system even at the initial consultation in Boston before Tom had followed him out here, over the moon at the prospect of having his treatment in private.
The big man’s cheeks turned pink before he answered. ‘My daughter’s here, fussing around. She insisted on coming with me but as far as the ex-wife is concerned we’re on a father-daughter getaway. Terri can read me better than her mom ever could and knew there was something going on.’ He threw his hands up in exasperation and the fact his daughter had got the better of him made the corners of Rafael’s mouth tilt upwards for the first time that day.
Daughters had that knack of tying their fathers up in knots around their little fingers. Thankfully that bond didn’t break even when the marriage did. At least, not for him. Gracie’s mother hadn’t had any problem abandoning her child but she’d never taken to being a parent the way he had and now he was doing the job for both of them.
The responsibility of motherhood had curbed her nights out when he’d been working and unable to mind their daughter. A baby with special needs had been a step too far for a woman who had still thought and acted like a single twenty-something. It had almost been a relief when she’d ended things because they’d been able to stop pretending she was a wife or a mother. It was entirely Christina’s loss she’d never got to be part of her beautiful daughter’s life, the daughter who’d exceeded all of those damning predictions regarding her development.
He’d made a success of his life without the assistance of his family and at least Gracie had a father who loved her and would do everything he could to ensure she thrived.
‘I’m glad you have someone to make sure you do as you’re told. It will help your recovery.’ The clinic staff would operate, provide medication and follow-up treatment, including physiotherapy, but there were practical things Tom would require at home to smooth the transition from the clinic.
‘Don’t worry, Terri’s at the beach house now, adapting it for the return of the invalid. She even insisted on buying me slip-on loafers for the duration of my stay so I don’t have to bend down to tie my laces.’ The absolute horror on his face that he should be subjected to such an atrocity was comical. Rafael silently wished Terri good luck, hoping she would prove equally as stubborn as her father. She’d probably have to tie him down to prevent him from rushing his recovery.
‘Think yourself fortunate to have someone willing to take care of you. Not everyone does.’ He had a momentary lapse into self-pity, considering his options should he ever find himself in the same situation. There were no loving family members around for him to rely on. It was a sobering and ironic thought that he’d probably have to pay someone to provide that assistance.
If he’d stayed in San Sebastian, as his parents had wanted, and had never left Spain, he would’ve had every medical or child expert available to the eldest son of a duke. Therein had lain the problem. He’d never wanted to remain tied to that lifestyle, living off ancient connections to the royal family and trying to stay relevant by portraying himself like his playboy brother to the paparazzi.
This life of anonymity had suited him better, even though his family had seen his move to the States as a betrayal of his heritage. He hadn’t spoken to them since but as they hadn’t accepted him for who he was, he knew they would never acknowledge Gracie for being different either. She wouldn’t fit into the perfect family they preferred to parade for the cameras, neither would he subject her to those expectations.
He had played along for a while for appearances’ sake but Gracie wouldn’t understand that’s what she was supposed to do and she shouldn’t have to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. It was better for her to be loved for who she was, even if he was the only one in her life able to give her that unconditional love.
Unfortunately, that left him with no next of kin here if anything should happen to him. Tom should appreciate someone caring enough not to back away when he needed them most.
‘Not as fortunate as you, Doc, that’s for sure. Oo-ee!’ Tom’s appreciative whistle was lost on Rafael.
‘Excuse me?’ He cocked his head to one