The Long Road Home (12 page)

"Give it time. You might be surprised what a little rehab and therapy can do for you." He sucked in a breath. "Believe it or not, I was in those same shoes a few years back. If I can do this, so can you."

With a glimmer of tentative hope, Logan bobbed his head.

Tyler grinned. "Now, let's see what your doctor recommended." Reading from the page, he tapped his lips. "Hmmmm."

"What does it say?" Curious, Logan leaned closer to try to catch a peek.

"To work your ass off."

Logan snorted and rolled his eyes, already fond of the outgoing therapist who suffered the same injury years earlier.

"Don't believe me?" Tyler arched an eyebrow, held up the papers, and pointed to circled words. "No restrictions. That means I'm working your tail off."

"Great." Logan groaned dramatically. "Just what I need, another sadist drill sergeant."

Tyler laughed. "Think of it this way. You don't have to salute me or call me sir, and I promise not to send you to clean the latrine with a toothbrush."

"Wonderful," he grouched but couldn't hold back the twitching of his lips.

"I'll chip in for a real mop instead."

Logan lost the struggle and chuckled heartily. "Why don't I think you're lying?"

"Because I'm not." Tyler flashed straight white teeth in a wide grin.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but his nerves settled while the promise of optimistic improvement glimmered within his reach. Tyler made him feel right at home and offered himself up as inspiration. With a common background and injury, Logan immediately held confidence in Tyler. Who better to advise him on exercises, skills, and tricks of the trade than a man who had been in his shoes before?

"Then let's get you started." Tyler led the way through the maze of equipment.

Chapter 21

Hearing the front door open and shut, Gwen hurried from the kitchen and into the living room, eager to see Logan after his first day at rehab. Deep down, she knew he worried about his ability to match up with the physical demands and rode himself harder than anyone else probably ever would. He seemed to take the loss of his lower leg to heart as a tragic life changer instead of realizing, with time and practice, he'd be able to do just about anything he wanted to do. She believed in him. If only he could learn to believe in himself once more.

Logan dropped off his gym bag at the door and entered the room, his face completely blank and unreadable.

Concern gripped her. Rushing over, she smiled brightly. "Hey there, sexy. How did it go?"

His chin lifted as his gaze met hers. A flash of happiness and welcome crossed his features as he grinned in return. "Sexy, huh?"

"Oh, yeah." Stopping directly in front of him, she hugged him tight before sliding her hands to lightly stroke his chest. "The stuff of wet dreams."

"Wet dreams?" He laughed heartily, the sound music to her ears.

"Well, okay. Maybe some men would have wet dreams about you, but all the women will definitely fantasize." She prodded his sense of humor, thrilled when he responded.

He shook his head. "You're delusional."

"Nope. I just know a quality specimen when I see it."

"Specimen? What am I, research for your work now?"

"Well…" A blast furnace crossed her face. "Now that you mention it, I suppose I could use an actual human model." She tapped her lips as if pondering the very idea.

"Damn, you're good for my ego." Logan wrapped her in his embrace, planting a kiss to her crown.

"Ditto." She melted into his body, enjoying the moment of closeness. Hesitant to break the light mood, she tossed out the question on top of her mind. "You never said how your day went." Stepping back, she searched his face for answers.

"Actually, not too bad. Kicked my butt in the physical therapy gym, but the people are good there. Tyler, the head therapist, is an amputee as well. He's promised to get me back in shape, and judging from my abbreviated workout today, he's trying to make good on his word."

"So, all in all, not as bad as you thought?"

"Today? No. The rest of my therapy, we'll see." His lips straightened into a tight line. "I thought I'd kept up most of my strength, but I haven't. Weights I lifted with ease a few months back were too damn much now."

She felt his mood change, from optimism to self-criticism in the short period of time. Hastily, she maneuvered to end the downward movement and bring his spirits back up once again.

"Logan, don't be so hard on yourself. It's only the first day, and you've been through a lot."

"Still…"

"Still nothing. You've worked as hard as anyone else, probably harder. You'll be a flying success with just a bit of time and patience." She furrowed her brow. "I'm already dang proud of you. And will only be prouder when you graduate from rehab at the top of your class."

He stared at her for a long moment as if searching for sincerity and truth. "You have so much faith in me."

"Of course I do." She smiled softly. "I happen to know something about you that tilts the scales in your favor."

"What's that?"

"You're stubborn as a mule."

He snorted. "Maybe."

"Oh, I know so. Otherwise, we'd never have made it through learning the silly waltz in dance class."

"You did just fine in that class."

She stood up on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his. "Because I had the best partner in the world."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Uh huh. I'll remember that." Grabbing his hand, she gave him a gentle tug. "Come on, sexy hunk, dinner's ready."

He followed along.

Glancing back, she spied a small grin on his face and felt a sense of victory.

Tyler could put him through his paces through the day and work him back into shape. She'd take the evening shift, bolstering his spirits and tickling his sense of humor. Together, they'd get him back on track for a promising future full of possibilities.

Chapter 22

This is fucking useless. I'll never get back to the level I was at.
Frustration and defeat ate at his gut, stirring his anger, and firming his belief that all this work was for naught.
Face the facts, soldier. You're through.
He wanted to punch someone, or better yet, find the miserable bastard who detonated the bomb and fillet him.

With jerky strides, Logan strode in the front door, tossed his backpack on the floor, and headed straight for the couch, still frowning after his depressing day.

Tyler had set up his workout regimen the day before; today, he felt the full brunt of the physical therapy prescription. Sara, one of the physical therapists, worked with him pretty much one-on-one. Pleasant and cute, she smiled cheerfully as he struggled to do things that would have been a cinch four months ago. Sweat poured from his body as he walked on the treadmill with strict orders not to run. The weights sucked his energy and turned his arms into trembling garden hoses. Exhausted, he hadn't been able to wait for the session to end, something he'd never wished for in Ranger training. Well, most of the time. The part with lack of rations in the mountain training couldn't have ended fast enough. He'd been damn hungry.

Gwen walked into the living room, took one look at him, and her brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He spit the word out, hoping she'd take the hint.

"Logan. I can tell something is bothering you. So fess up. Are you hurting? Do you need a pain pill?"

He shook his head. His muscles ached, yeah, but nothing that warranted prescription pain medications. Hearing the concern in her voice, he wrapped her essence around him like a cozy blanket against the night chill. Gritting his teeth, he fought for control over his surly mood. This wasn't Gwen's fault, and she didn't need to receive a tongue lashing because he couldn't run on a fucking treadmill.

She plopped down beside him, took his hand in hers. "It's okay. I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. Yell, scream, cuss. Whatever you need to do, I'll listen."

As much as he wanted to swat her away like a pesky fly, he simply couldn't. She'd been there for him, showed him how much she cared, and didn't deserve to be the recipient of his anger. Taking a deep breath, he quelled his potential volatile outburst, clinging to the truth spoken in flat tones. "It's just… I've lost so much strength. Hell, I'm downright weak." He sighed and gazed down at his lap. "How am I ever going to get back on track when I can't even do the basics?" There's no way he could pass the Ranger fitness test. Not like this. The weight of the realization pushed his shoulders down farther.

"Losing strength is normal. After all, you've been injured, went through a couple of surgeries, and have been off the obstacle course for a while. Same with anyone who works out regularly, then lays off for a week or so. Even the top Olympic athletes. Besides, I read something about a single leg amputee has to use thirty percent more oxygen than an average person. That sure makes a difference even if you were in tip-top shape." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Logan, I know it's hard, going to be hard, but you've met every challenge so far. Heck, not every guy gets into the Rangers. Not by a long shot."

"True." He looked up and read her face, finding only concern.

"You've always had your physical strength to depend on. I remember that way back when. But you still had to work hard and study in order to get through, right?"

"Yeah." He had made good grades in college, but had to work harder in some classes more than others. History and English in particular.

"This is the same. A different kind of challenge. An easy rehab is worthless for you. Besides, didn't you tell me yesterday that one of the therapists said that you're way ahead of most of the guys that come in?"

"She said most go home and sit on their rear, do nothing for a while, then come in pretty weak."

"She?" Her voice raised an octave.

His lips twitched as he caught the near jealousy in her voice along with her raised eyebrows. She headed toward the overdramatic to get a laugh out of him now and again. He always appreciated her efforts and couldn't resist yanking her chain just a bit in return.

"Yeah, one of my therapists is a woman. Love when she bends over to pick up weights for me."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Always a playboy."

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a butt man." Already, he felt a smidgen better. She bolstered his spirits and made bantering and teasing all the more fun. His anger cooled and receded for the moment. He knew from experience it would return with a vengeance. Perhaps he'd have a chance at the punching bag tomorrow in order to let his emotions free.

"Uh huh."

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap. Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, "Didn't I ever tell you why I chose you for a dance partner?"

"No."

"Because you had the most perfect ass I'd ever seen."

She giggled and lightly smacked at his arm. "Had?"

He pressed feather-light kisses along her cheek, to her nose. "Have, baby. Still have." His lips meshed with hers in a soft exploration that soon caught fire into a deeper passion.

By the time they broke apart, he'd temporarily forgotten his rough day. She had his mind focused below the belt, wondering what she'd look like spread-eagled on his bed, begging for him to take her, reaching for his cock and stroking him to near completion. He bit back a groan of need.

She gave him a big hug and stood back up. "Do you want to eat first or soak in a hot bath?"

"Let's go with eating. I might spend some time in the tub. As it is, I'll be pretty stiff and sore tomorrow." After the workout he had had, he'd be lucky if he could climb out of bed. He'd been there before in his military career. Probably would again.

"I'll give you a massage when you're ready for bed. That might help relax some of the kinks out." Gwen grinned at him and ruffled his hair. Would have if he had more than tall blond spikes from his last buzz cut.

He grinned at her playfulness and uttered the question on the top of his mind. "Why?"

"Why what?" Bewilderment crossed her face.

"Why are you with me instead of out there searching for Prince Charming?" For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she stuck with him. Her bubbly personality combined with physical beauty would net her any man she chose. He didn't match up with her prospects. Not in the least.

"Because I don't want anyone else."

He read the truth in her eyes, yet needed to be fair, make her see the reality of his world. "I'm a cripple. Have no job prospects. I'm not even sure what tomorrow will bring, let alone weeks in the future. You deserve better."

She shook her head. "Look at yourself through my eyes for once, Logan. You're good, strong, courageous, and determined. Any woman would love to have you."

"I sincerely doubt it." He frowned as a sudden thought struck. "You're living in the past, Gwen. Seeing me as I was back in college. I'm not the same man that I was then."

"Of course you're not." She rubbed his shoulder. "You're still the same man in a lot of ways, but you've also changed. We all have. More mature, having learned from our personal experiences and carrying more baggage than before. It's part of life, it's normal. For your information, I see you as you are now. Battle tested, yet still striving to overcome the odds. Working hard to make yourself better while in limbo about what to do next." She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Don't label me blind, because I'm not. I see your goodness, your tenacity and kindness, and know you have so much to offer any woman you choose to be with."