Page 23 of The Long Walk Back

‘Do you not want to talk about it? Are you in pain?’ He shook his head, but the furrows grew deeper and his foot kept jiggling, up and down like rapid fire.

‘Stop asking me that. I might start thinking you worry about me.’

Finishing another bite of her roll, she steeled herself. ‘Look, I know you’re annoyed because you still have to work with me, but I have a plan.’

He had jerked his head to look at her when she spoke and his mouth had opened to speak, but he closed it instead and now he was surveying her with interest. His green eyes twinkled at her, and the image of that nearly silenced her completely. Looking away quickly she cleared her throat and worked at forming her words. Coherently, with a bit of strength behind them, so she didn’t look like a blithering idiot or a lovesick teenager. Damn those eyes.

‘I have a plan for the weekend. I think we should see what we can do. Give it a shot. I want you to try the prosthetics. Just once, just to see. If you do that, I think I can spring us for the weekend. I know I need some fresh air, and I think a night out would be just the ticket. So what do you say? Will you give me a chance?’ She regretted her final choice of words, but she set her jaw and looked at him square on, right into his eyes. The anger was gone from his face now, his brow was smooth, lips tight. ‘Look,’ she pushed, her voice breaking. ‘I can’t help my son, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you sit in that chair. That note I left you; I meant every word of it. I know this is not what you wanted. None of this is what either of us asked for, but I think we were put together for a reason. For this. You helped Jamie, you gave my son back to me. So let me do this for you.’

‘You really think that? I don’t need saving, Missy.’

‘I never said you did. I didn’t need it either, but we both can’t seem to help ourselves when it comes to the other.’

His eyes darkened, and she felt it then. The connection between them, snapping into place like a live wire. ‘Okay,’ he said slowly.

‘Really?’

‘Really. I’ll try. But I have some conditions.’

‘Of course you do,’ she huffed, making his green eyes spark.

‘What can I say, I’m stubborn. I pick the place. We go out Saturday, all day. Will Jamie be okay with that?’

Kate was too flummoxed to even worry about Jamie being on his own for the day. How was she going to spend that much time alone with Cooper? All she wanted to do right now was put some distance between herself and her patient, before that live wire combusted and took them both down with it. She squashed her emotions down, reminding herself that this was her job. He was a patient. Those lines could not be crossed, even without all the other baggage they carried. ‘He got a new game in the post this morning, I doubt he’ll even notice I’m gone.’

Cooper smiled, heading for the door. She had never seen him move his chair so fast.

‘Where are you going?’

Cooper looked over his shoulder and flashed her a smile so intense that she almost bit her tongue as she drank her coffee. ‘I’m going to plan our date with Trevor, before you back out.’

There was a closed door between them before either even realised that the word ‘date’ had been used. And neither party particularly wanted to take it back, so it hung in the air like a glistening dust mote.

13

Cooper looked green, and Kate could see his jaw flexing again and again as he ground his teeth. He looked dog-tired, his day-old stubble clouding his cheeks. She found herself once again wanting to look after him, and she squashed down the thought. The longer she spent with him, the more she realised just how complex a man he was. He was cocky, sure. Arrogant. Alpha. But that was just the shell. He’d broken through Jamie’s shield in half a day, Rita thought he was a sweetheart. Even the nurses were warming to his humour under that gruff exterior. In combat, he was grizzled, but risked everything to save a child. He loved his unit like little brothers, fought for them. Laid down his life to bring them home. She understood his barriers, as he recognised hers. She could understand his moods, bear the brunt of his anger and his grief for a life lost, and still stand to be around him. He didn’t flinch from her either. Her hurt, her pain. Her cold mask that kept her protected. He saw right through it to the woman she was beneath. They challenged each other, and she knew he felt comfort from her touch too. Their bodies called out to each other, settling the beasts stirring within them. She didn’t want to fail him. She couldn’t bear it if he lost himself to the dark. She wanted the world to see what she did, in those moments they spent alone.

She was terrified today. She could feel the pressure of the day upon her, what it meant if he failed. The man could walk, he just refused to try, and she couldn’t work out why. He’d decided to live, hadn’t he? This was a man that led others into battle, risked his own life to save his comrades and, from what Trevor said, never shied away from a fight. The reasons for refusing to try eluded her, but she needed him to try despite them. She was now fast realizing that her time with him was limited, and thinking about not seeing him every day gave her a knot in her stomach that she couldn’t ignore.

It was Friday, and they had been working hard all week. Tomorrow they were out on a magical mystery tour for the day, planned by Cooper, and Kate was worried about the impact of today on their weekend. She was curious about what he had come up with, but she wasn’t entirely convinced that they would even be on speaking terms when today’s ordeal was over. Taking a breath, she gave him a tentative smile. When he gave her a nervous one back, her stomach flipped. She didn’t pick at the reason why. They were in their usual room, the weights ignored as they sat looking at the expanse of prosthetics. She had done her research, had sent out for the best types of leg available to them. Eventually, Cooper would be able to have a different transtibial prosthesis for sports too, enabling him to do more. That was all in the future though, for today he just had to get one on and be able to live with it.

‘You ready?’ she asked, looking across from her seat at him, perched on the end of his.

‘I was born ready,’ he said with a wink. They both laughed, and his attempt at being a goofball made them both feel a little better. Standing up, she squashed down the protective, nurturing feelings she felt that made her want to hold him and got on with explaining the prosthesis to the patient, like she would any other. She was still babbling away ten minutes later when she moved to put on the stump sock. His hand covered hers and she stilled, shocked. He put her hand between both of his and without saying a word, raised it to his lips. He dropped a kiss on her palm, turning it over between his. She held her breath, hoping her hands wouldn’t betray her. She could feel a flush enveloping her body, and she prayed that the sweaty palm god would give her a pass this time.

‘For good luck,’ he murmured against their hands, his voice thick with something that spoke to Kate deep in her gut. Looking into his eyes, she smiled. Her stomach was doing backflips and somersaults, and she was suddenly grateful that they had skipped their usual breakfast this morning. She was pretty sure she would have been seeing it in reverse right about now. Putting on the sock, they worked together to fit the prosthesis, checking for fit and comfort. Then, wheeling himself over to the balance bars, Cooper carefully stood up. Kate kept her distance, just enough not to crowd him, close enough to catch him if he fell. Or try to, anyway. In her current state, she was pretty sure a chiselled six-foot two soldier would flatten her. Cooper said nothing, besides letting out a small grunt. She could see the muscles in his forearms flex and quiver as he steadied himself on two legs again.

‘Ready?’ she asked tentatively. Cooper, red-faced and ashen around the gills, nodded, a single drop of sweat escaping his rather shaggy hair line and making a run for his stubble, which these days was more like a Grizzly Adams tribute. He eyed the walkway in front of him as though it were covered in hot coals, and Kate’s heart caught in her mouth. You can do this, she thought to herself, willing him on. Go on, fight. Do it for me. Do it for yourself. He moved, taking a first step with his new leg. He shook as he moved forward, and wobbled as the foot came down to the mat. Putting his weight on it as gently as he could, he slowly lifted up his good leg, just for a few seconds, before setting it down again.

He did this again; three, four, five times. Raising his head, he looked at Kate dead in the eye before sitting back down in his chair. Kate didn’t dare speak. She was waiting for him. Giving him the time he needed. He didn’t say a word, and she knew he was processing. He was pale and flushed, and he started to head towards the door. She watched him leave but didn’t try to stop him. He turned at the door, giving her a small smile. It hit her right in the feels. God, that smile. He did it. She wanted to run to him, tell him how proud she was, but she made herself stand still. Fists trying not to clench at her sides.

‘See you later,’ he said, and was gone. Kate sagged into her seat. He walked today. Big steps. When she was sure he was out of ear shot, she punched the air, letting out a little whoop of happiness.

Kate didn’t know how to dress, and she was regretting not living in the real world for once. Before, she would have popped to the shop to pick up a dress or a new pair of jeans, but now, in her bubble of existence, she had a distinct lack of choices in the clothing department. She thought of her wardrobe at home, packed away, and she felt a pang for the simple life she had once had. One that had seemed so difficult. Now Neil was gone, and things were not how she expected them to be. Not even close. Funny wasn’t it, how things seemed difficult till the truly hard times hit.

She had long since resolved never to shout at Jamie again. When Kate thought of her nagging, raised voice berating him for not picking up his dirty socks, or refusing to have a shower, she cringed. A guilt set in so deep, a guilt only mothers knew about. The kind that led you to their bedroom late at night, to smooth their brow, whisper, ‘I’m sorry’, and convince yourself that tomorrow will be a better day. Add to that a pinch of working mother angst, a dollop of ‘I wasn’t there’ agony, and you had yourself a recipe for a rather feisty dish of blame stew.

The irony of everything was that now, Jamie was less likely to do the things that got her so mad in the first place. Things like flinging his dirty socks onto the carpet for her to find. Chances were, these days he wouldn’t even bother trying to put any on.

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