LITMIR.BIZ

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with flags arranged overhead. The walls were partially covered in wainscoting. Above that were a few male portraits in impressive frames. A huge table, surrounded by imposing matching chairs, capable of seating at least twenty people, stood in the center of the room. An oriental rug in blue and red lay beneath it. The only thing out of place was a pile of greenery on the floor in one corner and a few boxes stacked beside it.

      He must have noticed the direction of her gaze. “Pardon the mess. We’re in the process of decorating for Christmas.”

      Cass pretended he hadn’t spoken. Not even the holidays could heal her broken heart.

      Dr. Sinclair was saying, “All meals are served here, unless there’s a reason the resident is incapable of joining us. We dress for the evening meal. It’s at seven.”

      “Dress? As in diamonds and tux?”

      Chuckling, he shook his head. “No. More like no workout clothes allowed. The idea is for the residents to use their skills and have something positive to look forward to. We work on the principle that if you don’t use it, you lose it.”

      She glanced at him. He really was quite handsome in a rugged way. “Like?”

      “Fastening a button, passing a bowl or even manipulating a fork.” He turned toward the central hall.

      “I have no trouble with any of those so why must I attend?” She joined him.

      “Because we want our residents to feel like they’re part of our family, which they are,” he said over his shoulder as he started down the hall.

      She had zero interest in being sociable. All she wanted was time to herself to think about what she would do next, where she wanted her life to go. How she could get past the mass of emotions churning inside her. Could she continue working in search and rescue? Work with a new dog? Learn to trust another man?

      Maybe she could just make sure she wasn’t around when it was dinnertime. This place sounded more like a prison than a clinic. “Hey, do you mind telling me why I was sent here?”

      That got his attention. “So you can regain your mobility.”

      “I know that. I mean why here in particular? Couldn’t I have gone to a clinic in America? What makes this place so special?”

      He shoved his hands into his pockets. “As I understand it, your orthopedic doctor believes this is the right clinic for you.”

      She stepped toward him, pinning him with a direct look. “What led him to believe this specific clinic was the right place for me to complete my physical therapy?”

      Dr. Sinclair shifted his weight and raised his chin. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for but our residents have an uncommonly high success rate of making as complete a recovery as possible, and by recovery I mean holistic recovery. Our state-of-the-art clinic features a peaceful atmosphere conducive to healing…” he waved a hand around, indicating the castle “…and our canine therapy has proved to be fundamental in facilitating that recovery as well. Does that reassure you?”

      Canine therapy. Cass took a step back, her chest constricting. She couldn’t deal with this right now. It was too soon after the loss of her dog and partner, Rufus. “I’m not interested in canine therapy.”

      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

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