where was his therapist? He was about to call her cell again when he heard her van coming up the gravel road. Seconds later she came rushing in the door. She was dressed in her familiar tights, oversize shirt and tennis shoes, with that silly large bag tossed over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I left work without my cell phone, and I was on my way back to get it when I got a flat tire. So I couldn’t even call you.”
He felt relieved. “Did you get roadside service to change it for you?”
She frowned at him. “Yeah, I’m roadside service. I’m just glad my spare had air in it.”
Damn. He pictured her in all that traffic and didn’t like her taking those kinds of risks. “I’m glad you’re okay. I guess we don’t realize how great cell phones are until we really need them.”
“No kidding.” She sighed. “I know we’re running late, but would you mind if I had a cup of tea before we start?”
“Of course not. I think I’ll join you.”
She nodded. “Good idea. You sit down and I’ll put on the water.”
She moved around the kitchen efficiently, filling the kettle, then turned on the burner to heat the water.
She reached into the cupboard where there were several bottles of his pills. She found the one she wanted, then set it on the table. “Have you taken any pain meds this morning?”
He shook his head at her not-so-subtle hint. “You know I don’t like how they make me feel.”
“I’ve heard that argument a lot of times,” she acknowledged. “But because you are in pain, you don’t work to your full potential while doing the therapy. So just take it for the session.”
She walked back to the table, causing her ponytail to swing from side to side. She looked so young and carefree, but the full curves said she was all woman.
His attention switched to her small hands as she dropped the tea bags into the cups. He recalled the feeling of those strong fingers against his sore muscles.
Her voice drew him back as she continued. “The pill is only effective for four hours. Weigh that against better results during therapy.”
“What are you, a spokesman for the pharmaceutical company?”
“Just your therapist. You hired me for my guidance and abilities, so use them.”
“How do you know I wasn’t working hard?”
“Because I can see you tense and grimace during your workouts.”
“Dang, woman, you’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not as long as you’re being so stubborn.” She opened the bottle, shook out one pill and placed it in front of him.
The kettle whistled and she filled both their mugs, then sat down across from him again. She sent him a challenging look that caused a reaction he hadn’t felt in a long time. He glanced away, then tossed the pill into his mouth. He reached for the bottle of water and took a drink.
She smiled. “Good. I like my men cooperative.” She brought the cup to her mouth and took a tentative sip.
“It’s good that I’m still in that classification.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are we feeling a little emasculated?”
He looked away. “More like helpless.”
“Considering the severity of your accident, you are a very lucky man. Not all are so fortunate, so don’t go feeling sorry for yourself, cowboy, or I’m walking out the door. And that’s another thing. One day, you will walk again. You might have a limp, but you’ll be able to stand on your own two legs. So stop with the pitiful act.”
Her words stung. “We signed a contract.”
“You forgot to read the fine print, Mr. Brannigan. I only work with patients who give one hundred percent.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You need to count your blessings. Not everyone gets a second chance. Excuse me.” She got up and left the room before he could speak.
He heard the bathroom door close. Oh, boy. He needed to learn when to keep his mouth shut, or he was going to lose this woman. He just realized he’d be losing more than a therapist.
* * *
ERIN LOOKED AT herself in the bathroom mirror. What was wrong with her, acting like a fool with Austin? She couldn’t even blame it on last night with Hattie or the flat tire this morning. The problem was she needed to do a better job of handling her reaction to the man. That meant to think of him only as her client, a client who was paying her very well so she could have her dream.
She splashed cold water on her face, washing away any makeup left, but she wasn’t going to take the time to reapply it. Good—a billion freckles should scare him off.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Erin...is everything okay?”
She released a long breath and opened the door to find Austin standing there with his walker.
“First, I need to apologize,” she said. “I acted very unprofessional. I could say I had a rough night and morning, but that’s still no excuse.” She stole a glance at the too-sexy cowboy. “Truth is, Austin, I won’t coddle my clients. If you want a babysitter, then I’m not the person for the job. I’m the person who’s going to work you hard in every session. It’s what your doctor ordered for your recovery. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy when you started. So if we’re not on the same page, I’ll tear up our contract and leave.”
“Damn, woman. You’re tough.” He grinned. “I like that, but that doesn’t mean I won’t complain. Hell, I’m paying you enough I should be able to bellyache now and then. So unless you need to yell at me some more, let’s get started.”
She felt relieved. “No, I don’t want to yell right this minute, but I’ll let you know. Come on—time to get to work.” She walked out into the hall, then into the therapy room and waited until Austin got to the weight bench. She set the walker aside, then knelt down to remove the cast. She pulled down the protective sock and examined the wide, puckered scar.
“The incision has healed nicely.”
“Still off-putting, especially to women.”
Was he thinking about the women he wanted sex with? Of course, he was young and healthy, and had been without a woman for a while. She didn’t doubt that was a long time for the handsome bull rider. That made her think about her own sorry sex life. It had been nonexistent for years. Now all she needed to think about was a baby. Her baby.
She looked at Austin. “Some people might be, but if they care about you it shouldn’t matter.” She shrugged. “As a woman...it wouldn’t bother me, that is...if I cared about the man.” She glanced away when his gaze got too intense. “I mean, my husband had taken shrapnel in his leg, and it tore both the calf and thigh muscles.” She quickly changed the subject back to him. “You’ve lost some muscle, so it will look a little different than your other leg. And since you live in boots and jeans, I don’t see the problem.”
That was enough questions. She stood, tied her shirttails into a knot at her waist. “We should get started while your meds are working.”
The next hour passed quickly as she had him work with leg weights, then moved on to resistance training. He grunted and groaned as he did the up-and-down motions she instructed him to do.
Finally, she called a halt to the exercise and handed him an ice pack to put on his leg. “Since you worked so hard, I have a treat for you.” She raised her hand. “Take off your shirt. I’ll be right back.”
Austin did as she’d instructed. What kind of torture was she about to think up now?
He didn’t have to wait long. She returned carrying a folded