by Margaret Kay
She stepped into a distinctively masculine living room with large black leather furniture and framed black and white pictures of mountains, a prairie, a vast desert, and a peaceful beach. She walked across the hardwood floor, following Vic. They passed by a large, gourmet kitchen that she noticed was set up at wheelchair height. They walked into a hallway and passed an open door that was an office, their footsteps echoing from the hardwood floor that was throughout.
They entered a room set up with workout equipment, a wide therapy table, even a handicapped lift near a treadmill. Through an open doorway into a room that was clearly a bedroom, with a perfectly made bed within, a man in a wheelchair entered. He was ten to fifteen years her senior. He had jet black hair, dark eyes, was clean shaven, and he had a masculine, attractive face. Despite the wheelchair, he looked solid and strong, with broad shoulders and what appeared to be a muscular chest beneath his compression shirt.
Shepherd locked eyes with the softest blue, most beautiful eyes he’d ever gazed into. He rolled towards her. “Hello, I’m Colonel Sam Shepherd.” He stretched his right hand to her when he reached her. “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Palmer.”
Diana took his hand. His voice was deep and smooth. She noticed that when he smiled, his eyes warmed and the surrounding skin crinkled. “It’s nice to meet you too, Colonel Shepherd. Most of my patients call me Doctor Diana.”
“And most just call me Shepherd.”
“I thought we’d do a normal session, so Diana can see what we do, and we’ll let her jump in with her suggestions to improve your therapy,” Vic said.
“I’d also like to review what physical training you independently put yourself through and the frequency, as well as your sleep and nutrition. I consider all aspects of a person’s routine holistically as everything is connected and everything impacts a person’s wellness.”
Shepherd listened to her confident voice. The pitch and cadence were pleasurable to all his senses. From the Digital Team’s thorough report on Dr. Diana Palmer, he knew that she was more than an MD, more than a physical therapist, more than a chiropractor. The sum of all the education she had, created an encyclopedia of knowledge about wellness and disease in her that few others had.
What he also learned was that she was a physiatrist. Before reading Smith’s report on her, he hadn’t realized that physical therapists do not go to med school. They do not earn medical degrees. They get a doctorate degree in physical therapy. But someone that is an MD and then completes training in the specialty field of physical medicine and rehabilitation, earn the title physiatrist. On top of that, Dr. Diana Palmer also went to an accredited Chiropractic School. And Vic said she was now studying acupuncture. Her resume was impressive.
“I assumed you would,” Shepherd said with a smile he couldn’t keep from his face. “I reviewed your website. I like your philosophy of a holistic approach and a focus on wellness.” He watched her smile spread, which lit her entire face.
“Thank you,” she said. “I think it is important.” Her gaze then shifted to Vic. “Should we get started?”
He nodded, and then he looked Shepherd in the eye. “How is the pain today?”
“It’s better than yesterday.” His eyes swept over to Dr. Diana. “Over the past few months, the painful sensations that are in my lower back and run down my left leg have increased. Some days they are bad. Others, not so much. Vic and I have tried to track them to see if something triggers the pain or helps to prevent it, and we were not able to see any patterns.”
“When Shepherd is in pain, a firm massage helps. We will do the massage first and then the normal physical therapy session. I reverse the order when he is not hurting. I generally spend two hours with him five days a week.”
Diana knew she didn’t have that kind of time to devote to him. Of course, she hadn’t agreed to take him on as a patient yet, and she would just have to let him know what she could and couldn’t do. “But Vic, you said that there was a medical person who works here that may be able to take on some of it?”
“He could do some of it when he is in town,” Shepherd said. “He is out of town on a case right now.”
Diana frowned and nodded. “I see. Okay, Vic, show me what the physical therapy session normally consists of.”
Shepherd brought his wheelchair up beside the therapy table and she watched as he effortlessly pulled himself atop it, face down.
“We stretch and do range of motion exercises. I also check for any abnormalities in the muscles and joints. Shepherd has a strenuous daily workout.” Vic then filled her in on his weightlifting and walking routine.
“You lift weights daily for an hour?” She asked.
“Only five days a week,” he replied.
“And you walk on the treadmill while supported in the harness every day in two one-hour sessions?” She asked, repeating what Vic had said.
“Yes,” Shepherd confirmed.
“Once in a while he sprains or twists an ankle or a knee,” Vic said. “He works up to a rapid pace. He technically doesn’t just walk.”
“That explains why your legs are still so muscular,” she said as she watched Vic manipulate his limbs. She was truly surprised that they were after nearly five years in a wheelchair. “How do your legs feel after you have walked on the treadmill that long?”
“Fatigued,” Shepherd answered.
“Are you able to support your own weight?” She asked.
“I can for short periods. I have a lot of numbness and pain. When I was first shot, I felt nothing, and the doctors advised that permanent paralysis was a good possibility. After a few months, some feeling returned, but it was accompanied by numbness, pain, and a distinct weakness that has interfered with walking or even standing for more than a few minutes. If I’m not in the harness, walking is not possible.”
“What about your back? How does it feel when you are in the harness and walking?” She asked, intrigued. Vic was right. Something was missing. Given what he was relaying, he did not seem to be even partially paralyzed.
“It feels best when I’m strung up on that harness and that helps get rid of the pain down my leg and in my lower back.”
“Then why don’t you spend most of your day in it?”
Shepherd felt annoyance at her question. Apparently, Vic had not told her that he runs a business. “I work a demanding day in my office and have many meetings every day.” He tried to keep the tone of his voice in check.
“If you install a convertible stand-up desk in your office and have a lift at it, you could spend more than half your day standing, which everyone should do. Sitting isn’t good for our backs. I only use a stand-up desk. You could too.”
“I will admit, I had not thought of it,” Shepherd said. And Vic had not suggested it either.
After twenty minutes face down, Shepherd flipped to his back. Diana was surprised by the incredible range of motion he had in his lower extremities. Vic even stretched his arms well.
“Here,” Diana said, reaching her hands towards Shepherd. “Let’s take this stretch a bit deeper.” She wrapped his right arm over his body and leaned into him, bringing the stretch to a new level.
Shepherd groaned out. When she released it, he was startled that she wasn’t shy about getting close to him. She’d used her body weight to push the stretch much deeper. And he’d smelled a light fragrance that was unique and fresh coming from her. He liked it. He’d also noticed how physical she was. He sincerely hoped that she would treat him. He already could see that she had a lot to offer to improve his treatment plan.
When they finished, Vic prompted him to turn back over onto his stomach. Diana could not help but let her chiropractic training take over. She bent his knees and viewed the unevenness of his feet in the air. He was severely out of alignment. She wondered if she could grab a few areas. She caught sight of Vic’s eyes warning her. She gave him an unrepentant grin. She lowered his legs and felt over his lower back and hips. He had several places that needed an adjustment. But she hadn’t as
ked him about consenting to the benefits of chiropractic care yet.
“So, I generally do a full body massage,” Vic said. “If he has pain, we start there. If not, I start on his back and at the shoulders.”
Diana watched him do a traditional massage beginning at his upper back. She was confused as he was fully clothed. “At this point, I need to ask which of you is squeamish about a proper skin to skin massage?”
“We do a typical therapeutic massage that a patient would get from a physical therapist in a clinical setting,” Vic replied, sounding almost offended.
“As you know, I believe that bare skin with lotion is the best surface to do the most good. Are you opposed to that, Colonel Shepherd?”
He turned his head to the side so that his eyes met hers. “I am not,” he replied. “And it’s just Shepherd.”
“Okay, just Shepherd,” she said with a smile, her eyes locked onto his. “Let’s lose the shirt and sweatpants and let me see what I can do differently than Vic’s typical therapeutic massage.”
Vic watched Shepherd shed his shirt and the sweatpants, revealing exercise shorts beneath. Diana pulled a bottle of lotion from her bag. Vic knew he had her now. She would take Shepherd on as a patient. He’d seen how out of alignment he was when she’d bent his knees up and he’d seen the look on her face, and he knew that she was itching to adjust his spine.
Diana gazed in amazement at the magnificent musculature on this man. She estimated that he had just about zero percent body fat. He was nothing but defined muscle. She appreciated fitness and health and despite the partial paralysis, which she was beginning to doubt was what afflicted him, this man was fit, more fit than most people she knew. She poured some lotion into her palm and spread it evenly over both hands. “I’m sorry if my hands are cold. They should warm quickly.”
“No worries,” Shepherd mumbled. He wasn’t expecting the electric sensation that shot straight to his dick when she pressed her hands to his bare back. Just the skin on skin contact was awakening. She glided her hands over his back, increasing the pressure with each stroke. She had a much different technique than Vic’s. He wasn’t sure how a massage could be relaxing, deep, and exhilarating at the same time, but it was. She worked out places in his shoulders that he didn’t even realize were tense or tight.
She bent his legs up at the knee. “You are really out of alignment. Without my table, I won’t suggest doing a complete adjustment on you, but I see a few things that could be causing the painful sciatica-like sensation. Would you be okay with me grabbing a few?”
Shepherd was not sure what she meant by that. Grabbing a few? “I’d be willing to give it a try,” he answered.
Diana really wished they were at her office and he was on her drop table. “Have you had a chiropractic adjustment in the past five years?” She knew that as long as he’d been seeing Vic, he had not, but she had to ask.
“No, I’ve actually never been to a chiropractor.”
She explained to him the many benefits of chiropractic adjustments and how it worked. Then she lowered his legs and felt at both hips. She felt the first place she’d adjust. “Take a deep breath for me.” She watched his back as he did. “Now, let it out slowly.” As he did, she did the quick press on his left hip. It popped into place right away. Then she did the same on his right hip.
“I’m not sure what that was, but I felt it,” Shepherd said.
She glanced at Vic. He nodded for her to continue.
She felt up his spine. L4 and L5 were way out of whack. She had him roll onto his side. She’d adjust him in that position, just to be safe. It took three times pressing on the area to get the bones back in line. On the third hit, he groaned. “Sorry, had to hit that one hard to get it back in alignment. I’ll stop there. And let’s see if that does anything to alleviate any of your symptoms.”
She had him roll back onto his stomach. She massaged over where she’d just adjusted. When her touch moved to his upper thigh, he realized that he was uncomfortable with the erection that instantly formed beneath him. Then he realized that he really did feel her touch on both legs. How was that possible? He had not had this much feeling in this area of his legs in a long time. He was startled by that realization. By the time she had worked her way to his feet, the sensation more resembled numbness with a bit of feeling. Whatever had caused it, was waning.
“Can you turn over?” She asked.
At that moment, his cell phone chimed. “One moment please,” he said, reaching for his phone. He checked the display. It was a message from Deputy Director Manning with the DEA. Shepherd had rescheduled his nine hundred hours meeting with Manning to thirteen hundred. Manning needed to push the time out later. Shepherd typed out a quick reply agreeing to the new time. That quick distraction was enough to calm his inappropriate reaction to Dr. Diana’s touch.
Diana watched him check his text message and reply. Certainly, he could take an hour away from his phone. She wouldn’t bring it up now. She’d address that at his next appointment, which would be at her office. She wanted to fully adjust him, and she wanted to do that on her drop table.
She watched him roll over. His chest and abs were solid, defined muscle. He had the perfect splattering of chest hair. He was the definition of masculine. When her eyes met his, they were captured in the dark depths. She was momentarily flustered, knowing he’d caught her ogling him.
His lips pulled into a smirk and his hands came to rest on his abdomen, framing the large mark that she assumed was where he’d been shot and where the surgeon had sliced him open. “The scars aren’t too bad.”
Diana’s eyes focused to his abdomen. “No, they’re not. I will admit, I was expecting them to be a lot worse. You had a good surgeon.”
“Yes, he was an experienced combat surgeon, was damned good and more than qualified to dig the fragments out of me.”
Diana realized she didn’t know the circumstances of this man getting shot in the gut. She’d have to ask Vic about that when they left. “I’m glad. And you obviously received prompt emergency care immediately after the gunshot wound.”
“I did. The medics who treated me just minutes after I was shot are top notch. They kept me alive long enough to get me into surgery.”
From his two statements, she assumed the wound had occurred during a battle-setting. She searched her thoughts for armed conflicts that resulted in American casualties nearly five years ago. She came up blank. Of course, she knew that not all incidents were broadcast by the media.
She continued her massage, working over his upper arms, lower arms, hands. She felt a few more places in his hands that could use an adjustment. She’d wait on them. Then she massaged over the front of his thighs, calves, and feet, pulling his shoes and socks off without asking, when she reached them.
Shepherd schooled his reaction when Dr. Diana pulled his shoes and socks off, which he was surprised that she had. And he hoped his feet didn’t smell. He hated the idea he’d subject her to that. He opened his eyes when he felt his leg bend at the knee. He watched as she moved the leg around and did some gentle pushing on it.
“Your hips and knees are out of alignment. I felt several joints sticking in your hands and feet, as well,” she said, gazing down at his face and into his dark eyes. “I’d like to have our next appointment at my office so I can fully adjust you, if you are open to that. I think the benefits would be many.”
“You could go ahead today, if you think it will help,” Shepherd offered.
“I’d rather do it at my office on my drop table. And have you ever tried an inversion table?”
“No,” he admitted.
“It’s a different stretching out of your spine than on the harness, and I’d like to see how you feel on it. Vic advised me that you do not have high blood pressure, heart disease, or glaucoma. That is correct, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Besides the chair, I’m quite healthy,” Shepherd replied.
Diana moved to the head of the table and gave the back of h
is neck a lengthy massage, stretching his head and the neck muscles. Then she massaged his head. His hair, though cut short, was thick and soft. She massaged over his forehead and cheekbones. She ended her massage with light strokes over his forehead and temples. She gently grasped his shoulders. “Did I miss anyplace that you would like me to massage more?”
Shepherd opened his eyes and gazed into her soft blues. He was so relaxed he nearly fell asleep. Her voice pulled him back at the last second. “No, that was good, thank you.”
“Diana has a much different touch than I do,” Vic said with a chuckle. “I’ve fallen asleep during her massages.”
“It was relaxing,” Shepherd echoed.
“Be careful when you sit up,” she said, prompting him to sit. She watched him pull his shirt back on. “Tell me about your sleep.”
“I usually sleep well,” he answered.
“Do you keep pretty consistent sleep and awake cycles?”
