Her German shepherd-wolfhound mix partner had been with her for four years. She’d had him since he was a puppy. She’d even gone to Germany to pick him up from the breeders. They had trained together at a search and rescue school in California. They’d understood each other, trusted one another.
Now he was gone. Despite him being an animal, the hurt of his loss was more acute than the pain of broken bones or her ex-boyfriend’s assessment of her ability to maintain a relationship. She and Rufus had been all over the world together, crawling in and over disaster sites that others only saw on TV while drinking their morning coffee. As a team, they had been a part of tragedies that no one should ever see or experience. Gratitude and guilt filled her in equal measure.
She felt the doctor’s keen observation and focused on his mild expression. He turned and started down an adjacent hall to the left, saying, “This way to the lift.”
Cass glanced at the staircase in relief then followed, taking careful steps to ensure there wasn’t a repeat performance of what had almost happened outside.
He looked over his shoulder. “As our residents improve, they use the stairs whenever possible.”
Cass once more eyed the daunting set of wide steps made of gray marble. “And that’s mandatory?”
Dr. Sinclair gave her a grin. “‘Mandatory’ is such an unfriendly word. Why don’t we go with ‘greatly encouraged’? It’s part of the graduation program to be able to walk up and down the stairs, but we don’t require that until you’re ready.”
Did her relief show on her face? “What makes you think I’m not ready?”
“Maybe the tight line of your lips that indicates that little stumble outside hurt more than you wish to admit.”
Cass grimaced inwardly. The man had an acute sense of awareness. Could he see that more than her body pained her? That her heart hurt? Cass hoped not. She was nowhere near ready to share her feelings. “I don’t hurt.”
“Liar.” He gave her a flash of a smile. One she was sure made people want to confide in him, which she wasn’t going to do. As if he knew what she was thinking, he said in a gentle manner, “You do know it isn’t weakness to admit you’re in pain or that you need help. That’s what we’re here for.”
She’d had enough of this. All she wanted was to get to her room. “Who’re you, the resident shrink?”
They walked out of the elevator and started down a wide hallway lined with portraits. A few decorations were already in place here and there. A red carpet runner muffled their steps.
“No, but as clinic administrator and emergency medical doctor I help develop the patients’ therapy. All the doctors here work together to form patient plans. Recovery is as much mental as it is physical.”
“So you think I have emotional issues?” Cass certainly did have them. She couldn’t keep her job without a dog, and she wasn’t sure she could handle having another one. To possibly lose another best friend would be too much, too painful. To get close enough that someone or something mattered was more than she wanted at this point.
Lyle’s…wasn’t that his name?…mouth quirked as he stopped to face her.
“Why, Ms. Bellow, in some ways I think everyone has issues. So don’t go thinking you’re special. Here we are.” He pushed open a thick wooden door. “Your room belonged to the lady of the castle.”
Cass couldn’t deny it was a grand room. Its large canopy bed was hung with seafoam green curtains and covered with a matching spread. Beneath a bank of windows was a seating arrangement of a loveseat and two cushioned chairs. A chest, which she guessed held a TV, was nearby and on the opposite wall was a large fireplace with a fire already burning. The gleaming oak floor had a plush rug in the center of it. The festive fairy had been at work decorating in here as well. There was greenery along the mantle and groups of candles on tables. If she must be in this clinic, then she had won the lottery for the perfect room. She could hide out here in comfort.
“One of the staff should’ve put your luggage in here.” He looked around. “There it is. Great.” He pointed to the far side of the room where there was another door. “Through there is your bath. You’ll find a hot tub, which I encourage you to use often. I’ll leave you now to settle in. You don’t have to be at dinner tonight. A tray of food will be sent up. Breakfast is between six and eight in the dining room. I’ll let Flora know you’ve arrived. She may not have a chance to check in with you this evening, but you can expect to see her first thing in the morning. One of the staff will come and collect you at seven for breakfast. Is there anything you need before I go?”
Cass had slowly wandered around the room as he spoke. “I don’t think so.”
“If you have any questions, just pick up the phone. Somebody is on duty twenty-four hours a day. I hope your stay is a positive one.”
Before he could say more a man appeared in the hallway behind him. “Lyle, you said to let you know when Andy Wallace arrived. The ambulance is at the back entrance. I’m on the way after the wheelchair now.”
“Thanks Walter. I’ll go down.” Lyle turned to her. “See you around, Ms. Bellow.”
Later that evening after dinner, Lyle bowed his head against the howling wind as he walked to his cottage. Seeing the once strong, always smiling Andy Wallace with sunken eyes and needing a wheelchair had made for a tough last few hours.
Andy was older than him. They had only been acquaintances growing up. Still, Lyle could remember Andy and Nick, Lyle’s best friend Charles’s older brother, laughing and always into something. Now Andy was a shell of that person. After an IED had exploded under his Humvee in Afghanistan he was a patient in a clinic started in honor of Nick. The irony was sickening.
Ms. Bellow wore the same sad expression as Andy. That look implied the weight of the world lay on her slender shoulders. His staff had their work cut out for them with those two. He and Charles, the Laird of Heatherglen and a doctor as well, had discussed both patients but Lyle suspected there was more to Cassandra Bellow than was on paper. She didn’t even try to hide her desire to be elsewhere.
That resolute and dejected air about Cass indicated a serious psychological injury, but she carried her issues like a backpack they were so obvious. Maybe being at Heatherglen would help her with not only her physical problems but with what was bothering her heart and soul as well.
He recognized that look in both his residents because he’d seen it in his own eyes every time he’d shaved while serving in the Royal Army Medical Corps. All the men in his family had been expected to make a career in the armed forces and he hadn’t disappointed. As one of his father’s two sons, Lyle himself had been encouraged, then expected, to join the army. The importance of serving had been drummed into him his entire life. Yet medicine had pulled at him. To find a happy medium he’d combined the two.
Despite that compromise, he’d found the discipline and unwavering devotion of military life wasn’t for him. He wanted to concentrate on caring for people in the way he loved best, personally. To his father’s disappointment and ongoing puzzlement, Lyle had resigned his commission and returned home, remaining in the reserves.
His father still hadn’t given up on the belief that Lyle would return to active duty someday soon. Every time they were together the subject came up. Now that his father’s health was declining, the pressure had grown. If Lyle resumed active service, he could make his father’s last few years happier, make him proud. But the exchange would be that Lyle would be miserable.
Charles had been in the process of setting up the clinic when Lyle had returned home from overseas. He’d asked Lyle if he would consider being the administrator, as well as run the emergency centre for the surrounding