she asked.
A question, not a statement.
“Of course! Have you ever seen someone else fall down?” he asked.
The little girl nodded. Her mother looked tense and wary. Apprehensive.
“And did you laugh?” he asked.
“No.” A vague response. She didn’t understand what he was getting at. Not yet, anyway.
“Why not?”
“Because they fell down and might be hurt. I don’t laugh because I know how it feels.”
“Of course. But they don’t just lie there. They get back up, right?”
Another nod.
He bent slightly at the waist so he could look her in the eyes. “Kids fall all the time, Kristen. You just gotta quit being afraid of it. I can teach you how to land on your bottom so it won’t hurt as much. If you fall down, do you already know how to stand back up without help?”
She nodded, her eyes filled with a bit more trust, but not enough. Not yet. This poor girl had a lot of issues she needed to resolve if she was ever going to walk well and lead a normal, happy life.
“Then there’s nothing to be afraid of, is there? You can get back up and walk on your merry way,” he reiterated.
She looked down, her chin quivering. A strand of golden hair swept past her cheek. She looked so sweet and vulnerable.
Just like her mom.
“But kids laugh when I fall,” she said.
His heart gave a powerful squeeze. “Then let them laugh. Show them it doesn’t bother you one bit. And pretty soon, they won’t laugh anymore.”
Cade couldn’t help wondering if Lyn had discussed this topic with Kristen. From the profound concern in her eyes, he knew the ranger cared deeply about her daughter. But maybe Kristen needed to hear this dialogue from someone besides her mom.
Maybe Lyn needed to hear it, too.
Taking a deep breath, Kristen took another step, and another. She pressed her tongue against her upper lip, seeming to concentrate on doing what he’d shown her. Learning to trust her prosthesis. Lyn tightened her hands into fists as though she fought the urge not to assist her child.
“Hey! I’m doing it better.” Kristen smiled at her mom.
“You sure are, honey,” Lyn agreed, her voice thick with emotion.
Cade’s gaze darted to Lyn’s face. Against his better judgment, he sympathized with the ranger and her cute daughter. How could he resist? He’d thought about telling Lyn he couldn’t treat Kristen, but that went right out the window. Only an unfeeling ogre would turn their back on this woman and her child. They needed him. Maybe even more than Dal had needed him after he’d lost his leg.
“When you feel the resistance of the prosthetic toe, you tend to want to avoid it rather than learning to work with it. Believe in your prosthesis. Make it work for you. Trust it to be there,” Cade advised.
“But it hurts.” Kristen cringed.
“That’s a different matter. You need a better-fitting socket. I can give you some extra thick socks to wear over your stump, but I think this socket is too loose. You have a bony prominence that needs a flexible area around it so it won’t cause you pain.”
“I knew something was wrong.” Lyn sighed.
“We’re gonna take care of that for you,” Cade promised. “We’ll get you fitted for a new prosthesis. I also want to give you some new exercises I think will strengthen your balance, abdomen and thighs.”
He continued working with the child, learning her range of motion, strength and coordination. “You’re quite limber and strong. I don’t want you to lose that, so exercise every day. You just need more confidence.”
A bit of hope filled Kristen’s eyes. “Maybe when I get my new socket, I can play soccer with the other kids.”
Lyn shook her head hard. “No, honey. You could get hurt doing that.”
“Ahh,” the girl groaned. “Dad would want me to try.”
“Well, Dad isn’t here.” An unyielding edge of sternness laced Lyn’s voice.
Definitely overprotective.
Cade stood silently, listening to this exchange. What had happened to Kristen’s father? Why wasn’t the guy here with his family?
“Kristen’s father was killed in the accident when she lost her leg,” Lyn explained as if she could read his thoughts.
From the sadness filling her eyes, Cade realized she’d divulged something very personal. Right now, she didn’t look like the proficient forest ranger he’d met last week in Secret Valley. Now she just looked like a worried mom. Vulnerable and exposed. And that made him feel strangely protective of her.
No! He shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to feel sentimental toward this woman and her child. He was Kristen’s doctor, nothing more. He must remain neutral. With all his patients.
Cade cleared his voice. “I’m sorry to hear that. But with a running prosthesis, I don’t see why Kristen couldn’t play soccer. Staying active will help her retain her range of motion.”
He looked at Lyn, keeping his gaze insistent and unwavering.
Lyn’s mouth tightened. “A running prosthesis won’t be necessary. I doubt I can afford it anyway.”
“We can talk about the cost later, but don’t worry. We’ll find a way to make it happen.”
Why did he say that? Getting Kristen a running prosthesis at little or no cost would mean that he had to call in some huge favors. But if it meant she could run and play with the other children, he didn’t mind going out of his way for this little girl.
Lyn tilted her head and gave him a stern look as she enunciated her next words. “No. I don’t want Kristen hurt again.”
Okay, he got it. In a way, Cade couldn’t blame Lyn. Her husband had been killed and her daughter had lost her leg in a bad accident. No doubt Lyn didn’t want to lose any more. He didn’t argue the point, but their situation troubled him. Kristen’s psychological needs were just as important as her physical needs. Being overprotective wasn’t good if Kristen was to ever develop enough self-confidence and autonomy to lead a fairly independent life.
Cade would treat Kristen the best he could and keep his distance from them otherwise. He and Lyn would never be friends. Nothing more than acquaintances. And for some odd reason, that made Cade feel strangely sad inside.
Chapter Three
“I like Dr. Baldwin.” Kristen glanced at her mother as Lyn drove them home an hour later.
The girl rolled her car window down halfway, and the afternoon breeze teased golden wisps of hair that framed her oval face. A tangy smell hung in the air, and Lyn hoped it might rain up in the mountains. The wildlife sure needed the moisture.
“You do, huh?” Lyn kind of liked Cade, too, even if he didn’t like her. The way he’d put Kristen at ease had impressed Lyn. It’d been a long time since she’d seen Kristen actually try to do what her doctor suggested. It wasn’t that the girl was contrary, but rather, she seemed to have given up hope of ever walking normally again.
Truth be told, Lyn had almost given up, too.
“Yeah, he’s a lot different from Dr. Fletcher.”
Lyn silently agreed, but kept up the small talk, delighted to see her daughter smile again. “How so?”
“Dr. Fletcher is so...old.”
Lyn laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with old