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He lay back on the pillows, disgusted with himself. If this tiny movement caused pain, how the hell was he going to get healthy enough to get back in the game? It seemed impossible. He reminded himself that he was recovering from surgery, but as someone who had always been fit, feeling vulnerable wasn’t his strong suit.

A few minutes later, she left off cleaning up towels and folding sheets to come sit beside him. She lifted his knees so that his feet were flat, then let her hand linger for a few minutes, warming the muscle. “Listen, even the greatest athletes in the world experience doubt the first time they get hurt. A month from now, this will all be just a bad memory. Wait until you see what your body can do, how it repairs itself. It truly is a miracle.”

“You really believe that?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. We don’t heal a wound; we just get out of the way, support nature’s process to help speed things along. Does this make sense?”

He nodded. Somehow her calm certainty lifted his mood and helped dispel the nagging fear that threatened to derail him. She let go of his leg and stepped back, picking up her clipboard and making some notes.

“Let’s do some hamstring contractions next. All you have to do is dig your heels into the table and hold for a couple of seconds.”

She smiled encouragingly as he did as she instructed, but he was still very aware that she’d touched him. His legs seemed to tingle from the innocent contact, and he recalled Kristin’s words, that she didn’t want another woman’s hands all over him. He hadn’t thought about that until now, but he had to admit there was something in Jessica’s caress that felt warm and healing.

“Reiki,” she said, once again answering his silent question. “It’s an ancient form of energy healing. I take it you would rather make progress more quickly, right?” She grinned before he could respond. “We are going to be working together quite a bit. Why don’t you tell me about yourself? How you got into baseball?”

He was surprised that she cared, and wondered if she was simply trying to distract him. In any case, it worked. He told her about growing up in California, the magnificent weather that encouraged outdoor activity. His father had been in the minor leagues, and from the time he was born, the old man had a baseball in his hand. She listened intently, obviously knowledgeable about sports and baseball in particular, and he barely noticed when she rearranged his legs again while asking more questions.

She was so interesting to talk to, he discovered. Women, for the most part, had always been a mystery to him. While they were beautiful to look at, fun to undress, and satisfying to sleep with, he never felt he understood their thought processes.

But with Jessica, it was different and he wasn’t sure why. He noticed that today she was wearing what looked like yoga pants and a soft yellow tank top that showed off her toned body and flattered her freckled skin. She was attractive, but in a very different way than the women he was used to. Yet he was intrigued, and felt that if he weren’t committed elsewhere, he would definitely be interested…

“Okay, turn over. We are going to work your quads. Now just push the ankle down, try to straighten your leg as much as you can. You’ve got it. Just hold five seconds, and then release.”

After he’d complied, she said, “Now turn onto your back. We are going to try a couple of leg raises.”

The pain was getting intense, but he’d be damned if he would admit it. “Okay if I have a minute?”

“Sure.” She nodded. “I’ll go get the laundry.”

Gavin scuttled quickly off the table and disappeared into the washroom, his frustration at the boiling point. Gazing at his reflection, he felt like a shadow of his former self, a weakling who struggled to perform the tiniest movement. Is that how he appeared to Jessica? Did she think less of him as a man?

The notion was mortifying, and he splashed cold water on his face to snap out of it. Why should he care what she thought? She was just a physical therapist, there to help him, nothing more. Yet as he leaned against the sink, he realized that he did. For whatever reason, Jessica Hart’s opinion mattered.

Like it or not.

She was cleaning up, spraying the cots with a vinegar-water mixture, a natural disinfectant, when Pete came in. “How are things going?”

Jessica indicated the men’s room and shrugged. “It’s tough on him. New place, new people.” She lowered her voice so that only the manager could hear her. “He’s young, and it can be very humbling to go from being a star athlete to struggling to lift a leg. He’s like an injured thoroughbred, waking up from surgery and thrashing around, trying to find his bearings.” Her eyes shifted to the restroom door. “He also seems a little down.”

“So what do you think to do about it?” Pete asked thoughtfully. For once the gum was silent.

It took her a minute to realize what he meant. “I’m starting him out really slow so that he doesn’t hurt himself, and he can see progress. That will help his confidence. Once he gets better, stronger, we can build on that success. I want him to begin swimming when he’s ready. It’s a good low-impact cardiovascular workout. That will help him too, to see that the rest of his body is still strong, the way he remembered.”

And magnificent, she thought dryly.

“How long?” Pete asked.

She knew what he was thinking. The season had just started, and if Gavin made good progress, could he contribute to the club this summer? She didn’t want to raise his hopes, and she didn’t want him putting undue pressure on her new patient. However, she didn’t want to discourage him, either.

“Rehabilitation after this kind of surgery usually takes four to five months total. He’s already four weeks in, so it’s possible that by the All-Star break he could be back in the game. Not full-time,” she amended when she saw the manager’s eyes light up. “But yes, it might work out, at least by the end of July, or maybe August.”

Pete grinned as Gavin rejoined them. “So I hear you’re doing pretty good,” he said to the ballplayer. “If you’re done for today, why don’t you take a seat on the bench, watch the game. Will be important for you to start to get to know the guys, to understand our strategy, and where you will fit in. Make sense?”

“Yes.” Snatching up his towel, Gavin eagerly followed Pete out to the ball field. Jessica smiled, aware of Pete’s motivation. The sooner Gavin got acclimated, made some friends and got his head back into baseball, the better. She would work his body while Pete took care of his mind.

It made for a good program.

But as her thoughts went back to him, lying helpless and frustrated on the table, she couldn’t help the little lurch in her heart. What he was going through was hard. She remembered a time when her brother Logan had torn a ligament and was laid up for a few weeks one summer and couldn’t play soccer. He was like a bear, growling at everyone, furious when he realized he had no choice but to rest and wait. So she understood the emotions, the pain, and the impatience to be whole once more. Unlike her brother, Gavin was suppressing all of that, keeping a game face on and trying to act the tough guy. She’d take care of that, too, draw him out and make him feel.

Anger turned inward, she knew, leading to depression.

She also knew she had her work cut out for her, but that didn’t scare her. What did was the unknowing. Until he started playing, really tested his knee, they could not predict his recovery. Some athletes made it back 100 percent; some were never the same. They faded like a dying star, and inevitably, some new, talented rookie took their place.

She could only pray that wouldn’t be Gavin’s fate.