She felt her legs begin to wobble, not through weakness but fear. Fleur gulped back the feeling and took another few steps. But the sensation she’d experienced when she’d fallen, that few moments of sheer panic at knowing that she’d hit the floor, suddenly rushed up at her again. Before she could grab for Rick, she felt her knees buckle.
“Okay... I’ve got you.” Suddenly she was safe. Trembling in his arms, but safe. Fleur felt tears spike at the corners of her eyes.
“I’m okay. I’m okay...” It seemed as if she was telling herself, not him.
“Feel it, Fleur.” His breath seemed to caress her ear.
Feel what? The way his arms around her seemed so strong. So good... Then, as the tears began to roll down her face, she knew suddenly what he meant. This wasn’t about being able to walk without the crutches. It was about facing the future, and knowing that she could tackle it alone, without anything to lean on.
“I don’t know if I can, Rick...” She was hanging onto his shirt now, unable to disguise her tears. “I’m so afraid...”
“I know.”
“I never used to be afraid. I used to do high-wire work, acrobatic dance, and I never hesitated. Dance was what made me strong.”
He tipped her face up toward his. “That’s where you’re wrong. Dance didn’t make you strong, your heart did. You have a fearless heart, and all you have to do is to understand that.”
“But I ran away from the island. I couldn’t bear everyone talking behind my back...”. The look in his eyes was killing her. It held all the warmth of a calm summer ocean. All of its strength.
“You were just a kid, and under intolerable pressure. You’re back now, and you’re making your mark. You’re strong enough to face anyone down.”
What Rick thought...mattered. More than anything she could think of at the moment. Fleur took one more moment in his arms, letting the warmth of his body seep through to hers. It was too good, and she had to stop.
“Let’s try again.”
“Are you sure?” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
Fleur wiped her eyes. “Let go of me. We’re trying again.”
Rick had known that this was going to be a difficult obstacle for Fleur, but it was one she had to conquer. When her head was in the right place, everything else would follow.
He only had himself to blame for the way he’d reacted to the way her body had felt pressed up against his. His heart had almost jumped out of his chest. His senses... He wasn’t going to think about the way all of his senses had reacted to her.
Fleur was making him feel something again. He hadn’t been able to connect to anyone after Lara had died, and even looking at his four-month-old baby girl, who had looked so like Lara, had been too much to bear at times. Rick had ultimately come to terms with it and devoted himself to giving Ellie what she needed in life. But something about Fleur made his heart ache, in the way that an under-used muscle might after a first session in the gym.
Doctor. Patient. Relationship.
Get that through your head, Rick.
And today’s session had been a success. They’d laid the foundations for another step forward. When Fleur finally walked away from him, she’d do it all on her own.
* * *
One more step. Rick had turned up in her room that morning, a bunch of files under his arm. He’d put them down on the table and invited her to read all about herself.
It had all been there. Statements of accounts, patient notes, every single word that the clinic had written about her. Fleur had flipped through them, and he’d sat quietly, watching her.
“What’s all this about, Rick?” Fleur reckoned she knew, but she wanted him to say it.
“I heard what you said. About people saying things behind your back.”
She could have hugged him. No...embrace was a better word. Something soft, and tender. The thought made Fleur’s head swim.
“This isn’t the same...”
He shrugged. “I pulled the classic trick on you when we first met. Writing stuff down in your file and not showing you. It probably pushed a lot more buttons for you than I realized. So I decided that full disclosure was the way to go now.”
“You don’t need to show me these, Rick. There’s a difference between keeping a medical file on me and gossiping about me.”
“I know. I just wanted to be completely honest with you. Are you the one person in the world who doesn’t try to get a peek at their medical file when they think no one’s looking?”
He had a point. Fleur leafed through the notes that detailed her injuries and her care plan. Rick’s notes on her treatment were brief and to the point, including nothing of what she’d told him in confidence. That was just between the two of them.
Then she got to the form that he’d refused to show her, scoring her on her performance so far. She’d wondered whether there really was a form, or if he had just been making it all up to taunt her, but it was there, typed out with boxes for the scores.
“‘Level of outrage.’” She read the words out loud. “You only gave me six out of five for that? I would have reckoned it as a seven at least.”
Her joke seemed to ease the stress lines on Rick’s forehead a little. “I was a little conservative in my assessment, I’ll grant you that. You hadn’t started throwing things at me at that point. Eight out of five for aim, by the way.”
Fleur chuckled. “All that baseball practice as a kid didn’t go to waste, then.” She gestured toward the files. “I appreciate the thought, really I do, but I’ve seen all I need to see.”
It had obviously been bothering him, and Fleur had the answer to his unease. It was the one that Rick always used. She got to her feet, leaving her crutch leaning against the wall and taking his arm.
“Let’s walk.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
FLEUR KNEW HIS METHODS, sometimes a little too well. Walking was a good thing to do, but it also helped ease the tension.
As Rick had watched her read, he’d realized that he wanted more than just to give Fleur control over what was being said about her at the clinic. He wanted him to trust him, not just as a doctor but as a man. A friend, maybe. It was dangerous ground and he’d stepped on it without really considering how good it might feel when she responded.
He gave the files back to the receptionist as they passed her desk, and headed by unspoken agreement for the glass breezeway between the clinic and the operating suite. Fleur liked to sit there, watching the ocean, and Rick had wondered more than once how he was going to cope with walking through it alone when she left.
“Do you have any ideas on what you want to do next? When we let you back out into the real world?”
She shook her head. “I lived to dance. I had everything I wanted and now doing anything else seems like second best.”
“Sometimes second best is all you have. I wasted a lot of time believing that second best wasn’t good enough...”
She stopped, sitting down on one of the benches that stood beneath arching fronds of greenery. It was too late to unsay what he’d just blurted out, but he regretted it now. These walks, their talks should be all about Fleur. About helping her to heal, not exposing his own gaping wounds.
“When was that?” Her gaze was steady, giving no sign of condemnation.
“A long time ago.” Rick sat down beside her on the bench, making sure to leave some distance between them.
She nodded, sitting stock still. One of his own tactics directed right back at him. It was surprisingly effective, because suddenly he wanted to tell her.
“I used to think I had everything I wanted. I had a good marriage, my wife and I both had jobs we loved. Nice house, nice friends...we worked pretty hard to make it all perfect. We’d been trying for a baby for some time, and when Lara told me she was pregnant I thought that nothing could ever touch
us...”
He glanced at Fleur and suddenly he couldn’t look away. The jokey, companionable friction between them was all gone, and her eyes showed only compassion.
“We found out that Lara had cancer after her first prenatal check. After Ellie was born, Lara’s condition took a turn for the worse. She died four months later.”
“That must have been so hard for you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked...”
“I’m glad you did, because it’s something I want to say to you.” He’d asked so much of Fleur, and he’d already made his mind up that he would be honest with her in return. “My cousin had been helping me with Ellie, and by the time Lara died she’d taken her full time. She had children of her own, and she could give her everything that I couldn’t—a complete family. I asked Gail if she and her husband would think about adopting Ellie.”
Fleur’s eyes widened with shock. “But...you didn’t go through with it?”
“No, but I almost did. Gail tried to convince me that I could give Ellie what she needed, but I wasn’t able to listen and I nearly made a very bad decision. I almost gave Ellie up because I thought that I, as a grieving single father, would be second best and that wasn’t good enough for her.”
“But you’ve done such a good job with Ellie. She’s a great kid...”
“Yes, she is. And she’s my great kid. She was eight months old when I took her back, and I made a promise to her that I’d be there every night to tuck her in. And I have been.”
Fleur thought for a moment. “Surely you can’t still feel that you’re second best to Ellie?”
“I always will be, because I can’t make up for Ellie having lost her mother. But I can take that second best and make it into something that’s good enough, for both Ellie and me. I think that you can take second best too, and make it into something that’s good enough for you.”
“I hear what you’re saying.” Fleur smiled up at him. “Thank you for telling me, I know it can’t be easy to talk about.”
“Talking’s good. I didn’t talk enough at the time and I regret that now...” Rick hadn’t been entirely honest with her. He’d told her the truth, but not all of it. Maybe she had a right to know what drove him to expect so much of her.
He was still debating the point when Fleur leaned over toward him, nudging her shoulder against his. Even this small physical contact made Rick shiver. “So talk, then.”
Rick chuckled. Talking to Fleur wasn’t just easy, it was becoming an indispensable part of his day. “I want you to understand why I’m pushing you so hard.”
“That would be good. I’ve been wondering.”
“When we found out about Lara’s cancer, she made a decision that she wouldn’t accept any treatment that would harm the baby. That meant no chemo for the first three months and even after that, she couldn’t take advantage of all the options available.”
“That was very brave of her. Terrifying for you, though, I imagine.”
Rick nodded. “Lara’s doctors had been very clear about the risks she was taking, but she’d made up her mind and she told me that the thing she most wanted from me was my support. So, despite my own doubts, I gave it.”
“Wasn’t that the right thing to do? You were her husband, not her doctor.”
“Maybe. Things might have turned out differently if I’d said more. It’s too late now, and I’ll never know.” He had to live with the guilt of that, and the burden had become familiar. “But as a doctor, I’m very clear about what my responsibilities. I know that you’ve been through a lot, and that you deserve a break. And please don’t think that I underestimate how hard this is for you. But I honestly think that the best way to help is to keep pushing you.”
“So...you’re saying that you’re not letting up on me. I either have to put up with having you on my case or find another doctor?”
Something about Fleur’s smile told him that she wasn’t going to be asking for a different doctor. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking on his part. “That’s about it.”
“Okay. You’re right, I do need you to keep pushing me. And I really appreciate that you’ve made it clear to me where you stand.”
“So you’re ready for whatever I can throw at you?”
Fleur smiled. “No, I’m only just getting to grips with not being ready. Thanks for the talk, though.”
“My pleasure.”
Fleur got to her feet and he offered her his arm for support. But when she slid her hand into the bend of his elbow, it felt as if maybe they were supporting each other. He’d told himself that he didn’t need the touch of a woman, and that he and Ellie were just fine on their own. But suddenly he needed Fleur close.
Things had come full circle. Their relationship had changed, from open warfare to good-natured teasing. And now had come another subtle change. Rick was supposed to have all the answers, but he was beginning to suspect that Fleur was the only answer that made any sense at all.
* * *
Rick was always cautious in his use of the word breakthrough, because he knew that rehabilitation could be a two steps forward, one step back process. But it seemed that Fleur truly had broken through her fears. Every day she was walking further alone, and when she did use a crutch to support her, she didn’t rely on it as she had before.
“How was your day, Ellie?” This was one of their evening rituals. Coffee for Rick and juice for Ellie. They’d sit on the high stools in the kitchen together and discuss their day.
“Uncle Salty told us another story.”
“About sea monsters?” Rick wondered whether he’d have to explain to his daughter that sea monsters weren’t real.
“Yes. I felt sorry for the monster.”
“Okay.” Clearly, Salty Harrington had once again failed to frighten the children with his stories. Or maybe he was missing the point. The children were the ones that Salty could really communicate with.
“And we learned a dance. Fleur taught us.”
A little thrill tingled through Rick’s senses. It seemed that Fleur’s daily schedule was becoming busy. And that she’d broken through her self-imposed barriers once again and had moved on from ordinary steps to dance steps.
“Can I see it?”
Ellie nodded, and Rick lifted her down from the stool. “This is the one the sailors do...”
Ellie started to caper around in a fair imitation of a seaman’s jig. She was singing a tune to go with it, and stamping out a rhythm on the floor with her feet. She finished with an exaggerated mock stumble.
“What’s that for?” Rick wondered whether the stumble had been intentional on Fleur’s part.
“Fleur says that they’re on a ship. And it’s in a storm.”
Rick chuckled. “Okay.”
“And this is the monster’s dance.” Ellie flung her arms above her head, starting to sway mournfully. Even though she was only four, the dance had something about it. Fleur had injected meaning into the gestures she’d taught the kids.
“The monster’s sad, is he?”
“She. She’s very sad because she’s all alone at the bottom of the sea. But she dances with the sailors and that makes her happy. You can’t buy happiness, you know.”
“Uncle Salty said that, did he?”
Ellie nodded. “How was your day, Dad?”
His interaction with Salty hadn’t been quite as productive. One of the nurses had been persuaded to supply him with a screwdriver, probably in an attempt to keep him quiet, and Rick had found him dismantling everything he could find in his room, including his wheelchair. Salty clearly liked to run a tight ship, and he’d been cleaning everything until it shone. Rick had confiscated the screwdriver, but he suspected that Salty would figure out how to get it back within the hour.
But Fleur had been the highlight of his day. She hadn’t taught him a dance, but her smile had left him humming a tune as
he’d made his way to his next patient.
“I saw Fleur too. I’m helping her do some exercises to make her leg better.” He lifted Ellie back up onto her stool.
“Fleur says you’re the best doctor in the whole clinic.”
“Does she?” Fleur hadn’t confided that thought to him.
“She says you know it all.”
Rick choked on his coffee. That sounded a bit more like it.
“Well she’s right. I do know it all. Don’t forget that, kiddo.”
* * *
Fleur had worked hard. A little too hard at one point, when she’d heard that Mollie Gardener had threatened to resign from the library fundraising committee if Fleur continued her involvement with the Fright Night. Rick had found her on one of the exercise bikes in the gym, trying to pedal her way into unfeeling exhaustion, and ordered her back to her room, staying with her to talk it all through and persuade her that she’d come too far to go back now. And Pamela had called in on Mollie, and told her she was sorry to hear that she wouldn’t be on the fundraising committee anymore.
But the hours of exercise, the sweat and the tears, had borne fruit. When Fleur had swapped her crutch for a walking stick, Rick had enlisted Ellie’s help, after work one evening, and the three of them had built a snowman outside the windows of the children’s wing, adding a hat, scarf and the now unused crutch.
She’d enjoyed seeing Rick every day, feeling that he was watching over her. Going into town with him and Ellie on his days off. Fleur supposed that would all end now that she was leaving the clinic.
Because Rick was all about the work. He might be inspirational, and she might feel as if he was the best friend she’d ever had. But when she was no longer his patient, then someone else would be feeling that.
She’d packed up her clothes, and the ever-growing quantity of things that she’d put together for the Fright Night and she was ready to go. Her father would be coming to collect her soon, and she had her discharge notes. There was no sign of Rick and it seemed that he was going to forgo the goodbye that Fleur had hoped for.
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