His spirits sank, and he shook his head, hating that he’d disappointed her.
But her ever-present smile buoyed him. She stayed planted at the end of the bars and cheered him on. “You’re so close, Brian. That knee is getting stronger every day. I can tell. Come on. You can do this.”
Stabilizing himself with one hand, he pumped an imaginary—and unenthusiastic—pom-pom in the air with the other. “Rah rah rah.”
Her face fell. “Hey…”
He was immediately remorseful. “I’m sorry, Kath.” The nickname slipped out before he could catch himself. He hurried on hoping she wouldn’t notice—or that if she did, she wouldn’t care. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your cheerleading. I do. I just can’t get quite as excited over one-tenth of a centimeter of progress the way you do.”
She shook her head. “Those fractions add up, Brian. Every tiny increment is important. I don’t think you realize how much progress you’ve made. You’ve come a long way. Not just in the four weeks I’ve been working with you, but…from the beginning. It’s a miracle you’re bearing weight on that leg at all.”
“It doesn’t feel like a miracle.” He glanced pointedly at the treadmill gathering dust in the opposite corner of the room. “In case you didn’t notice, my dad’s spent a fortune here. I’m pretty sure he expects to come home and have me jog out to greet him.”
She studied him for a minute. “Oh, Brian, surely not. He’ll just be glad you’ve made progress.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know my old man.” Kathy had only dealt with the suave over-the-phone business side of Jerald Lowe. She hadn’t met the man in the flesh.
“Do you want me to talk to him? Explain how—”
“Ha! I didn’t come up against many army sergeants tougher than my dad. He’d chew you up and spit you out before you knew what happened.”
She looked doubtful.
But he waved her off. “No, I’m a big boy. You don’t need to talk to my daddy for me. Just forget it… I shouldn’t have dumped that on you.”
“You weren’t dumping anything on me.” She smiled. “Hey, as long as I’m here, I might as well play shrink too.”
“Now that would be a challenge.” He forced a grin, trying to reclaim the playfulness that usually marked their interactions.
But Kathy frowned, her brow wrinkling. “You’ve never talked about…what happened. In Nam. Can I ask?”
His pulse thrummed. He did an about-face and with all the grace of a toddler on a jungle gym, propelled himself along the parallel bars back to his wheelchair. He turned again and plopped into the chair, then sat there rocking the wheels to and fro, averting his eyes, wishing he could joke his way out of this conversation.
She pushed through the parallel bars toward him. “I’m sorry, Brian. It’s none of my business. Never mind me. I can be a big snoop. Are you ready to work on the mat?”
“Sure.” Taking hold of the handrims, he wheeled his chair over to the exercise mat in the corner. “And no apology necessary. I…I’d just rather not talk about it. It was a bomb. A couple buddies and I were on patrol… We walked into an ambush. Garrett and I made it out…barely. Tim wasn’t so lucky.”
Kathy took in a sharp breath and he quickly corrected her obvious assumption. “He’s alive. But he won’t ever be getting out of his chair. He lost his legs in the blast.”
An image of his platoon buddy formed in his mind—the dull stare of a broken man hunched in a wheelchair, a heavy quilt where his legs should have been.
Tim McKluskey’s bitter words still echoed in Brian’s ears. “Take a good look at me, man. You look at these stumps and then you try to tell me there’s a god. No…you go peddle that rot somewhere else, my friend.”
He never had gotten through to Tim. Last he’d heard, Tim was living in a V.A. hospital in Wichita, Kansas. It killed Brian to think of that.
“I’m so sorry, Brian.” Kathy’s soft voice broke through the painful memories.
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” A veil of melancholy settled between them. He didn’t want the session to end this way. An idea came to him and he rolled toward the door, already set on her agreeing to it. “You want to take a tour of the house?”
Her eyes brightened. “Sure!”
He popped a wheelie and pivoted in his chair. “Follow me.”
He led her out to the entry hall and into the dining room. The sun painted patches of divided light on the hardwood floor.
She stopped in front of the tall east window. “The first thing I’d do if I lived here is take these curtains down. These windows are too gorgeous to hide.” She touched the heavy draperies that hung on either side below the fanlights, then ran her hand along the polished wood of the window frame. She pushed back the drapes and leaned to look outside. Her breath caught. “Oh, man! What a view!”
He loved her enthusiasm for every little thing. “Wait till we get upstairs.”
Their voices echoed in the cavernous room. She trailed behind him to the kitchen where she exclaimed over the granite countertops, the polished floors, and the pantry with its “secret” stairway.
“You can go up that way if you like.”
“But what about you…you can’t—”
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Elevator.”
“No kidding? There’s an elevator?” She clapped her hands. “Outta sight!”
He laughed at her childlike amazement. “Your choice…”
“I’ll ride the elevator with you. But I might come down the stairs.”
He led the way and pushed the button to open the door. “After you.”
They rode up to the second floor in silence, but in the tiny space, her nearness and her perfume—a soft baby powder scent—made his pulse beat faster. He was grateful when the heavy doors slid open.
Kathy stepped into the upstairs hall and exclaimed over the grand double staircase.
“You’re welcome to go up,” he told her. “It’s mostly just storage up there now, but if you want to look around, be my guest.”
She put a hand on the dusty banister and winked. “I just want to sweep down the stairway once, like Scarlett O’Hara.”
“Frankly, my dear,” he affected a deep Southern drawl, “I don’t—mind if you do.”
Giggling, she raced up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. She crossed the landing and descended from the other side with a Scarlett-like flourish, nose in the air, and all the regality of a princess. That is, until her Dr. Scholl sandal caught in the belled hem of her jeans. Her shoe went one way and Kathy went the other. She caught herself and bounced down the last three steps on her rear end. She landed in a wide-eyed heap in front of Brian.
He bit his tongue, but the minute he saw she wasn’t hurt, he let a snicker escape.
She giggled.
That was all it took. His laughter spilled out, doubling him over until he nearly fell out of his wheelchair.
Blushing like a tomato, she scrambled for the errant sandal. But it wasn’t long before she was laughing, snorting along with him. Tears rolled down both their faces.
He managed a straight face long enough to warn her, “Don’t quit your day job.”
That started her laughing all over again. It was a sound he didn’t think he could ever get enough of.
When they finally composed themselves, they wandered together through the second-floor rooms, with Kathy oohing and aahing like a little girl in a Barbie factory.
He had to admit, it was fascinating to see his parents’ home through objective eyes. Not that he cared that much about interior decorating, but he’d been a little disappointed to come home to his mother’s update of the house. The orange shag carpeting and the color scheme Mom proudly called “harvest gold and avocado,” along with the psychedelic wallpaper she’d hung in a few of the downstairs rooms, somehow seemed a betrayal of the mansion’s heritage.
But Kathy declared the whole place “far out” and praised his mother’s taste in décor.<
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When they’d made the rounds through the maze of bedrooms and the “servants’ quarters,” as his mom called the old sewing room and nanny’s room, Brian led her to the guest room in the northeast corner of the house.
Below, to the east, the Mississippi sparkled in the afternoon sun. She crouched beside his chair, and together they gazed out on the summer afternoon. Neither of them spoke, and yet Brian had never felt more comfortable to sit in silence with another person.
Twenty minutes must have passed before Kathy looked at her watch. “Oh! We need to get busy. I’ve got another client in half an hour and we still haven’t done the mat.”
He frowned. “The dreaded mat, you mean.” He was teasing even more than she might guess. In truth, he didn’t dread the mat exercises in the least. It was actually the time he looked most forward to in each day.
They had the repetitions down to a science now. It was mostly resistance work, with her working the muscles he couldn’t yet flex himself. It had become their time to talk. She only came on weekdays, and now his weekends stretched into eternity. Monday had become his favorite day of the week.
Feeling an odd sense of envy at her mention of another client, he let her push his chair back into the elevator for the ride down. In the exercise room, she helped him transfer to the mat.
He lay there on his back watching her. She knelt beside him and lifted his left foot, massaging the arch and ball of his foot, the muscles in his ankle, then working her way up his calf.
She had to remind him to work with her by pushing his leg against her hands. While they went through the routine, she hummed softly. She sang off-key, but he recognized the song. Lean on me, when you’re not strong…
He smiled. “How appropriate.”
But a twinge of reality dimmed his smile. The forced intimacy of their workouts was becoming a distraction for him. Having her so close that he could smell her shampoo, feel the warmth of her fingers as she worked his muscles, her curtain of silky hair shadowing her pretty face… He shook off the dream. That was all it was. She no doubt had fifty clients who were equally enamored with her.
But sometimes, like today, he let himself fantasize that Kathy was more than a physical therapist to him. And sometimes, when she laughed at his jokes and smiled that sunny smile of hers, it was all he could do not to grab the girl and kiss her.
Chapter 6
July 1972
Birds sang from every tree, and a warm summer breeze carried the fragrance of the old-fashioned roses that still bloomed thick along the mansion’s stone foundation. Kathy jogged around the car and up to the entrance under the portico on the north side of the home where Brian had suggested she park.
She’d always enjoyed her work as a physical therapist, but these sessions with Brian Lowe had become the highlight of her days. In the five weeks she’d been coming here, she’d worked him hard. And he’d risen to every challenge she placed before him. It was easy to see now why he’d survived the war and the ugly aftermath it held for him.
He was no coward, that was for sure. If only all her patients were like Brian.
She would have a good report to give his parents. After delay upon delay, Jerald and Madeleine Lowe were due home from Cartagena early next month.
Brian had always seemed unconcerned by their absence, but she couldn’t imagine having a son come back from the war, only to leave him alone mere days after he’d finally returned home. Especially with the injuries Brian had suffered.
What could possibly be more important than their only son?
She suspected his parents’ absence might bother him more than he let on. At any rate, she hoped she’d get to meet the Lowes and discuss Brian’s progress with them.
And he’d made amazing progress. She rang the bell and waited for him to let her in. She had high hopes she would soon see Brian take his first solo steps. He was so close. So very close…
If only she could pretend he was still a new patient needing daily therapy. But she couldn’t honestly tell his father that was true. She’d reluctantly cut back to three sessions last week. And in a normal course of therapy with any other client, taking into account the progress he’d had made, she would probably be scaling back to twice-a-week sessions about now. But she couldn’t bear the thought of cutting their time together even more. She already spent any day he wasn’t on her schedule missing him.
The door opened and Brian sat there, grinning.
She wanted to hug the man, but settled for a matching grin and a cheery “good morning.” She’d seen him day before yesterday, but it felt like she’d just been reunited with a long-lost friend.
“Good morning back.” His smile said he was just as happy to see her.
They had a routine down now and they set to work right away. As always, they talked non-stop while she guided him through his core exercises.
Later, while he soaked in the whirlpool, Brian mentioned that a friend and his wife were picking him up for church Sunday.
She jumped on the opportunity. “Have you always gone to church?”
He shook his head. “My folks never went—until recently. Dad was always working, and Mom never wanted to go alone. But Jeff and Patty—they were newlyweds back then—started having youth rallies at this coffee house downtown. The girl I was dating then wanted to go, so I went with her.” He shrugged. “She didn’t last, but Jesus did.”
She tipped her head. “Interesting… I didn’t have you figured for a Jesus freak.”
“Yeah, well… I’m full of surprises. What about you?”
She laughed. “I was a Jesus freak before Jesus freaks were cool. We went to church every Sunday.”
“With your parents?”
She shook her head. “My mom.” Without warning, sadness clutched at her heart. “My dad died when I was a baby.”
He hesitated, sounding surprised at the revelation. “What happened? …If you don’t mind my asking.”
She hadn’t cried over her dad since the day she left for college, leaving her mother all alone. But the tears were thick in her throat now. “Korea,” she whispered.
Brian lifted a hand out of the water and touched her arm. “I’m sorry, Kath. I didn’t know.”
“No…of course not. Why would you? The worst part is…I don’t have any real memories of my dad. I was just a few months old when he died. I have a picture of him holding me in the hospital.” She tried to smile. “He looks pretty happy about it. Knowing that…well, it carries me, if that makes any sense.”
He nodded and she felt he somehow understood.
She trailed a hand in the whirlpool. The water was growing cool and she reached for a towel. “You’re pruning. Better get out.”
She helped him out of the tub and dried his feet while he rubbed the towel over his hair and face. She risked a question while they were occupied. “You didn’t…lose your faith over there?”
“No. Actually—to borrow your phrase—it carried me. It got me through. It was coming back here that really tried everything I thought I believed.”
She looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, people like me don’t exactly get a hero’s welcome when we come home.”
His words pierced her like a knife. For a minute, she wondered if he somehow knew about her work at the Center for Peace. But one look at his eyes told her he didn’t have a clue.
She was grateful when Brian glanced at the wall behind her and let out a low whistle. “Do you realize what time it is?”
She turned and followed his gaze. “Wow.” The hour had dissolved like cotton candy and her high spirits took a dip. The weekend stretched out in front of her—without Brian Lowe. It would be Monday before she’d see him again. “I guess we’d better wrap it up. But I’ve got a new set of stretches I want to show you before I go.” It was the truth, but it felt like she was trying to extend their time artificially. “Do you have time?”
“No. I’m playing golf this afternoon.” He bi
t out the sarcastic crack with a smile, but his frown told her it was said with anything but humor.
She winced. “Sorry…I didn’t mean—”
Shaking his head, he held up a hand. “Don’t mind me. You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m just…feeling cranky all of a sudden.”
She tilted her head and perched on the side of the tub. “Why are you cranky?”
His shoulders hunched. “I’m pondering the weekend. I’m bored out of my gourd just thinking about it.”
“You need to get out of the house more. It’s been gorgeous outside all week.” She looked toward the tall windows that framed a sunny view of the grounds. “I know you can’t drive yet, but do you try to get out some? Even just to ride around the grounds? Your mental health is important, too, you know. And trust me, the fresh air and sunshine will do wonders for your mood.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother.”
She laughed. “Sorry. But I’m serious. When’s the last time you got out of here?”
“I go out with Jeff and Patty every Sunday—except when they’re out of town, like this week. And Mrs. Bennett drives me to my doctors’ appointments.”
“The housekeeper?”
He nodded. “We usually make it a lunch date.”
“You take your housekeeper to lunch? That’s sweet.”
He grinned. “Yeah. I’m a sweet guy. Except when I’m cranky.”
She checked her watch, an idea forming. She’d promised Charlie to go with him and the rest of the group from Hannibal to take part in a peace march in St. Louis tonight. They were organizing a caravan in about an hour. But Brian looked a little desperate and she hated to leave him. If she were in his shoes, she’d go nuts cooped up here all weekend—even though the mansion wasn’t exactly a “coop.”
It only took one more look at the pout he wore to make up her mind. She jumped up. “Get dressed.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s go for a drive. Get something to eat.”
The grin that stretched his face convinced her she’d made the right decision.
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