A Maverick for the Holidays Page 10

  “What made you have that kind of attitude? Not everyone does,” he said and took two more large chomps of his cone and finished the treat.

  “My sister and brother didn’t really have the opportunity to go for the gusto once my mom died. Not until I grew up. Then they found their perfect someones and married them,” she said.

  “Perfect someone?”

  “Your perfect someone is that person who makes you feel loved and inspired. Your perfect someone is that person you can’t turn away from, no matter how much you might try.”

  As she looked into his eyes, she was so passionate she left him speechless. This was the girl who joked and made him laugh, but she meant business about the perfect someone. He could tell she wouldn’t back down from her opinion.

  He cleared his throat. “I think I’ll grab some water,” he said and went to the counter for a cup. He gulped down the first cup, got a refill and returned to the table.

  Angie had made headway on her sundae.

  “You’re doing good,” he said.

  “Except I’m getting full,” she said with a grimace.

  “Take a break,” he said. “The new rule is you don’t have to clean your plate or bowl.”

  “If you say so,” she said.

  “I do.” He glanced out the window and caught sight of his physical therapist, Kinley Smith, a petite young blonde with endless energy.

  She pointed at him through the window and gave a big smile.

  “Who’s that?” Angie asked.

  “My physical therapist,” he said. “Uh-oh. Here she comes.”

  Kinley burst through the door and walked toward them, the hem of her coat swishing around her ankles. “There you are,” she said to Forrest. “Where have you been?”

  “Around. I’ve been busy. What about you?” he asked, fighting discomfort.

  She waved her finger at him. “You were supposed to come back in for more sessions with me.”

  He shrugged. “I got busy with volunteer work, but I’m still working out.”

  “That was part of the problem,” she said. “I didn’t want you to damage your leg. You wanted to do too much too soon.”

  “I’m doing okay,” he said.

  “You wouldn’t say anything else,” she said. “You’ll be seeing me again after your next surgery. You can count on it. Who’s your friend?”

  “Angie Anderson, this is Kinley Smith.”

  Angie nodded. “Nice to meet you, Kinley,” she said, but her voice was reserved.

  “And you, too,” Kinley said. “How do you know Forrest?”

  “We met when I was at ROOTS and he was walking a therapy dog. ROOTS is a local safe haven for youth,” Angie said.

  “I’ve heard about that. A great organization. Do you work there?”

  “Part-time,” Angie said.

  “Very generous of you to work that into your schedule. It’s hard adding anything to a full-time job,” Kinley said.

  An uncomfortable silence followed. Angie gave a shrug. “I’m finishing my degree,” she said.

  “Good for you,” Kinley said. “Well, I should go. Enjoy your ice cream. Keep in touch, Forrest. I can help you.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Have a good one.”

  Kinley walked away and Forrest breathed a sigh of relief.

  “She seemed very conscientious,” Angie said.

  “She is. She didn’t like how much I pushed. After awhile, I decided to do my own rehab.”

  Angie pursed her lips. “How does your surgeon feel about that?”

  “He doesn’t know,” Forrest said.

  “That’s not good,” she said and took another bite of her sundae.

  Forrest shrugged. “I’m doing okay. She was holding me back.”

  “Hmm,” she said. “She sure was cute for you to bail on her.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t about whether she’s cute or not. It was about my progress. I just have higher goals than most people. But I respect her. She’s a real professional. She has her act together.”

  Angie nodded. “She’s educated and knows what she wants from her career.” She sighed. “Must be nice.”

  “What do you mean?” Forrest asked, searching her face.

  “I mean I’m still flailing in the wind about what I’m going to do professionally. I haven’t even graduated yet. She’s eons in front of me,” she said glumly.

  “Just because she knows what she wants to do careerwise doesn’t mean she’s in front of you,” he said. “That’s one of those things that evolves over time. Look at me,” he said, pointing at his chest. “I thought I would be career army. That didn’t happen.”

  “Hmm,” she said, clearly still not convinced. “You seem to know yourself pretty well.”

  “I’m older than you are. I’ve been through more,” he said, then thought about the losses she had suffered when she was young. “But you’ve taken some big blows.”

  “Still,” she said. “I should be further along my career path.”

  He lifted his fingers to her chin. “You’ve got time. You’re still young.”

  Her face fell. “Yeah, thanks,” she said, but clearly didn’t mean it. She dropped her spoon into the bowl of the rest of her uneaten sundae. “I think I’m done.”

  The mood was clearly killed. Forrest walked her to her truck, but Angie was strangely silent. “Hey, are you upset about Kinley?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, looking down. “She’s got a lot together. It makes me think about how far I have to go.”

  “You don’t have to go the same place she does,” he said.

  “I guess,” she said. “I also guess I need to get moving. Thanks for the coffee and the ice cream sundae. I’ll see you soon,” she said and climbed into her truck.

  Forrest watched her as she pulled away. He was surprised by Angie’s reaction to meeting Kinley. She usually exhibited the kind of confidence that inspired others, but it seemed she felt inadequate because she hadn’t fully committed to a specific career. It was totally wrong. Angie was one of the strongest women he’d ever met. She might be young. She might even be a bit naive, but she was strong.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked toward the architectural office to do more work. Thanksgiving was coming and the office would be closed. He didn’t want to get behind schedule. He walked cautiously, glancing around, hoping another vehicle wouldn’t backfire like it had last week. When he made it to the door, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he could make it through another day without a flashback.

  * * *

  The following Monday, Forrest met with Dr. Thomas North for a checkup. He’d been waiting for Dr. North to give the go-ahead for his next surgery. The doctor studied films and examined his lower leg. “This could require two more surgeries,” the doctor said.

  “Two?” Forrest echoed. He’d already been through four surgeries. He was ready to be done with this. “I was hoping I would only need one more.”

  “I told you it was a fluid situation and that my goal is to improve your motion and strength as much as possible.” He frowned. “Are you still seeing the physical therapist?”

  Forrest tensed. “I had scheduling conflicts, so I started working out on my own.”

  “You’re right on the edge of a stress fracture,” Dr. North said.

  “What do you mean?” Forrest asked.

  “I mean you’re working that leg too hard. You need to ease off. And I’m going to warn you that you will need a brace after both of these surgeries,” Dr. North said.

  “Temporarily,” Forrest prompted.

  The doctor grudgingly nodded. “Yes, but—”

  “So when can I have surgery?” Forrest asked.

  The doctor shook his head. “Not quite yet. You need to back off and give your leg time to heal.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?” Forrest asked, completely frustrated.

  “You put your leg up every time you can. You apply ice for the swelling. You walk instead of runn
ing. You baby it a little bit.”

  Forrest scowled. “I’ve been babying it.”

  “If you can’t take the recommendations I just made, then you can use crutches or a cane,” the doctor said firmly.

  Forrest didn’t like what he was hearing, but he knew Dr. North was his best chance at getting his leg closer to normal. “Okay, okay. But no crutch or cane.”

  “After your surgery, you’ll need a crutch. I don’t want you damaging my handiwork,” Dr. North said.

  “You never said when I can have the surgery,” Forrest said.

  “I’m gonna say after Christmas. Mid-January as long as you don’t overwork the leg. Resist the urge during the holiday season,” he said.

  “After Christmas,” Forrest echoed, feeling discouraged.

  “It’s not that long. We’re almost at Thanksgiving. I just want you to give your leg the absolute best chance to heal. You don’t have to stop living your life. Just try not to work so hard,” the doctor said.

  “I’ve been doing that for over a year,” Forrest grumbled.

  The doctor nodded. “I’m going to be blunt. You almost lost your leg. You’re a walking, talking miracle. I want to make you even more of a miracle. Take it easy with that leg,” he said in a firm voice.

  Forrest took a deep breath. “Okay. Did Annabel tell you she’s loaning Smiley to a veterans support group?”

  Dr. North smiled. “No, but I’m not surprised. And I gotta tell you that dog is a bed hog. If she weren’t such an amazing woman,” he began.

  “But she is,” Forrest said, seeing the love in the cranky doctor’s eyes. “And you’re crazy for her.”

  “Yeah, well,” Dr. North said, clearing his throat. “I’m glad Smiley can help you out. I never thought I would say this, but I’m starting to think the dog has super powers. Don’t tell Annabel I said that. She makes me eat too much crow as it is.”

  Forrest smiled at the brief glance into the doctor’s humanity. Dr. North was known for his tendency to distance himself from his patients. He was all about surgery, not emotion. That was why everyone had been thrilled to see him fall for sweet Annabel. She’d made him more human.

  Dr. North swallowed and put on his surgeon’s face. “So the rule is, if you want to have your surgery, don’t strain your leg. When in doubt, rest it. I know you’re a soldier, but your job right now is to protect that leg.”

  Forrest nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good,” Dr. North said. “We’ll talk in a few weeks before Christmas. If everything goes according to plan, we can schedule your surgery.”

  “Okay, thanks, Doc,” he said.

  Forrest left the office frustrated. The doctor hadn’t told him what he’d wanted to hear. He’d worked out everyday to strengthen his leg, but apparently he’d worked it too hard. Maybe Kinley had been right. But damn, she’d moved so slow. He’d been ready to scream in impatience after the fifth session. After memorizing the exercises, he figured he’d been ready to manage his recovery himself.

  According to the doc, however, he needed to dial it back. Walking toward his truck, he climbed inside and stared at his leg. It was a titanium miracle encased in flesh and torn muscle.

  It could have been so much worse. He could have ended up with no leg, no life. Forrest needed to take a deep breath and work on the whole being-grateful thing. One of the guys in his support group had lost an arm. Other guys struggled with injuries. In the scheme of things, he was damn lucky.

  He just knew he had to make as much progress as he could while he had the energy for it. He didn’t want to be that guy who was lazy and could have gotten more use from his leg if he’d tried a little harder.

  Forrest knew, however, that he had to listen to the doc. Dr. North was one of the main reasons he was staying in Thunder Canyon. He believed this doctor could reconstruct his leg to the best possible functioning level. Forrest just had to stick with him during the process. It hadn’t been easy so far and it wouldn’t be easy now, but he was determined.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day, Angie met her sister Haley for lunch. Despite the fact that Haley was the founder of ROOTS, Angie had rarely seen her sister lately. Haley was busy with fundraising, volunteer-coordination and being a wife to a millionaire. Haley’s husband traveled frequently to California and Haley tried to accompany him as often as she could.

  “How’s it been going?” Angie asked as they sat down with their sandwiches in the coffee shop.

  “Busy,” Haley said. “I’d like to expand the ROOTS location, but it’s in a perfect place. So that puts me in the usual quandary. Expand or find a way to meet needs within the current space. It makes me crazy, but I think we probably need to sit tight where we are and just get creative.”

  “The current real estate market is down. You might grab a bargain, it really depends on how many new teenagers we could be getting,” Angie said. “At the same time, we could work on some other programs like sending some of the ROOTS kids to summer camp.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

  Haley lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “Very sensible for my little sister.”

  “What’d you expect? Follow Tinker Bell?” Angie asked.

  Haley rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I underestimated you again. How’s the love of your life coming along?”

  Angie felt heat climb to her cheeks. Her appetite disappeared. “I’m working on it,” she said. “He’s a tough nut to crack. After his time in Iraq and the bad injury to his leg, he’s struggling.”

  “That may be more than you want to take on,” Haley said.

  Angie bit her lip and shook her head. “No. He’s worth it. It just may not be smooth sailing every minute.”

  Haley nodded. “If you say so. That leg injury may be the easy part,” she said.

  Angie frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean plenty of soldiers returning from Iraq also suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder.”

  “I’ve heard of that, but I don’t know much about it,” Angie said.

  “It’s rough. Flashbacks. Nightmares. It’s not easy,” Haley said.

  Silence hung between them.

  “I don’t want you to get into anything you can’t handle,” Haley said.

  Angie was immediately offended. “I hate it when you underestimate me.”

  “Oh,” Haley said. “Sorry.”

  Another long silence filled the air.

  “Do some research. See what you’re in for,” Haley said.

  “Okay,” Angie said while both she and her sister ate their sandwiches. Angie made it a practice to project a positive attitude and self-confidence, but lately there was one thing that had gotten under her skin. If there was anybody with whom she could trust to discuss it, that was her sister. “How bad is it that I don’t totally have my career worked out?”

  “Bad?” Haley echoed with a shrug. “What’s bad about it? You’re almost finished with your degree and you’re doing awesome things for ROOTS.”

  “Is that what you really think?” she asked.

  “I don’t just think it. I know it,” Haley said. “Why are you asking that question? You’ve never been that concerned about having a nontraditional career path.”

  “I don’t know. I wonder if people would take me more seriously if I had a defined career, like a nurse or librarian,” she said.

  “Do you think you would be happy as a nurse or librarian?” Haley asked.

  “Not really,” Angie said. “But—”

  “But what? When you have a passion for what you’re doing, you’re going to be the most effective. What is this about? Do you need more money? If you do, then I can help you out,” she said.

  “No,” Angie said, shaking her head. “I don’t want you giving me money. That’s part of the point. I need to be earning my own way.”

  Confusion furrowed Haley’s brows. “But you are earning your own way. Between the admittedly small amount you earn from your work with ROOTS and your temp work, assistin
g the caterer, and the other stuff you do, you seem to be managing very well. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me. Are you sure you don’t need some money?”

  “No. I just started thinking about how other people often have full-time jobs when they’re twenty-three,” she said.

  “Well, you’re different,” Haley said. “You always have been. When you were young, you flitted from one activity to another like a bee going from flower to flower. I have to admit there have been times when I was worried if you were going to pass a class, but then you’d come through with flying colors. You just needed to do it your way. Right now, you’re getting close to graduating, you’re helping kids at ROOTS and you’re spearheading several charity projects. If you want a full-time job, I’m sure you could find one. But your energy is directed in different areas, and plenty of people are benefiting from it. I don’t understand why you’re questioning this now.”

  Angie picked up a potato chip and set it down. “I don’t want people to view me as less of an adult because I don’t have a set job.”

  “What people?” Haley asked then realization crossed her face. “This is about your G.I. Joe. He’s not giving you respect?”

  “No,” Angie said quickly at her sister’s disapproving tone. “He’s very respectful. He just thinks I’m very young.”

  “Well, you are young and you’re not the most experienced woman in the world,” Haley said bluntly. “But you have an incredible quality that makes people believe they can do impossible things. You’ve always had it. It’s almost like magic, and if this guy can’t see it, then he’s not the right guy.”

  Angie bit her lip and shook her head. “He has feelings for me,” she said. “It’s just taking some time to come around. I’m not the most patient person, but I know he’s worth it.”

  Haley sighed and reached out to cover Angie’s hand with one of hers. “Be careful,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’ll be okay. I always am,” Angie said. “On another subject, I’m bringing pumpkin pie and pumpkin chocolate chip bread to your house Thanksgiving. Is there something else I can bring?”