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and swelling,” she said patiently, as if speaking to a first-year medical student.

      “Really?” He frowned, trying to work through the pathophysiology of what she described. “And ultrasound waves are safe and harmless?”

      “Definitely safe and harmless,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t have helpful properties, as well. I also wanted to mention that you shouldn’t let Josh overdo the games at home. What you did yesterday was perfect. An hour in the evening is enough so that Josh doesn’t overwork his injured muscles. We wouldn’t want him to suffer from muscle spasms.”

      He nodded, unwilling to admit how much he’d wanted to push Josh into playing her therapy games for longer than he had. Not because he wanted Josh to overwork his injured muscles but because he desperately wanted to see his son walk again.

      Patience was a virtue, he reminded himself. Although having patience while performing heart surgery was far easier than having patience with his son struggling to learn how to stand and walk.

      When she’d finished the ultrasound therapy, she handed Josh the candy jar, and this time it didn’t take him long to choose a cherry-flavored lollipop. Dan figured that by the time they’d completed the initial twelve weeks of therapy, his son would have tried every flavor several times over.

      “Okay, Josh, I’m going to talk to your dad again for a few minutes,” Molly said as she put the candy jar away. “Wait here and I’ll help you get into your wheelchair when I return.”

      Josh nodded, the skin around his lips already stained red from the cherry sucker.

      Dan followed Molly’s petite frame back to her office, trying not to imagine what her figure looked like beneath the baggy scrubs.

      “Dr. Morris—” she began, but he quickly interrupted her.

      “I asked you to call me Dan,” he reminded. “I’ll be attending therapy with Josh because I’m his father, not because I’m a surgeon here at Angel’s.”

      “Ah, okay, Dan, then,” she murmured. She paused, as if she’d lost her train of thought, and he took a moment to savor the way she’d said his name. For the first time in six years he preferred hearing his first name to his formal title.

      “I want you to consider getting a wheelchair, too,” she said.

      He blinked, and tried to gather his scattered thoughts. “You mean one for Josh to use here as well as the one he’ll use at home?”

      “No, I mean one for you to use specially while we’re working together with Josh.” She tilted her chin in a gesture he already knew meant that this was a topic she felt strongly about. “Josh needs you to be a role model for him. And he needs to learn how to get in and out of it by himself. I think he would find that easier to do if you were learning alongside him.”

      Was she crazy? He’d never heard anything more ridiculous. What good would it do for him to be in a wheelchair, too? “I appreciate your advice but I don’t see the need to get myself a wheelchair.”

      “Dr. Morris—Dan,” she corrected swiftly, “You don’t have the option to refuse. You have to stop questioning everything I do or suggest. Like the ultrasound treatments, and now getting a wheelchair of your own. For years you referred your pediatric patients to me, but now suddenly you’re acting as if I have no clue what I’m doing. Why can’t you believe I only have your son’s best interests at heart?”

      “I do believe that,” he said slowly. He forced himself to meet her emerald-green gaze. “It’s just …” He trailed off, unable to find the words to express how he felt. Because she was right. He was acting as if she didn’t have a clue what she was doing. Just because he wasn’t an expert in physical therapy, it didn’t mean she wasn’t. He had to trust her expertise and knowledge.

      But getting a wheelchair of his own seemed over the top. He wasn’t the one who’d been injured.

      Yet it was his fault that Josh had been.

      He swallowed against the hard lump of the bitter truth. Did it matter if he felt stupid using a wheelchair? Wasn’t Josh’s recovery worth it?

      “Look, we need to settle this now, before we go any further in treating Josh because if you can’t or won’t trust me, there’s no point in us continuing.”

      Her last sentence made him scowl. “Are you threatening me?”

      “It’s not a threat. I’m only telling you that you either heed my advice and do what I say as it relates to Josh’s therapy, or you find someone else to work with.” She shrugged, as if she didn’t care what he would decide to do. “I’m not the only therapist here, there are many others equally qualified.”

      He clenched his jaw, unable to believe she was actually handing him an ultimatum. He couldn’t help it that it was his nature to question things. To make sure he understood what was going on.

      “A good therapist-patient relationship is the key to success. Maybe I’m not the best fit for you,” she said, when he didn’t respond.

      “But you are the best fit for my son.” The moment he’d uttered the words, he knew they were true. Molly had a way with children, and it was obvious that Josh was already anxious to please her. Not to mention none of the other therapists had her amazing outcomes.

      He’d tolerate whatever she decreed in order to help Josh. “I’ll accept your terms,” he said, roughly shoving his ego aside. “I’ll get a wheelchair so Josh and I can learn how to use them together. And I promise not to question your methods from this point forward. I’ll place my son’s care in your capable hands.”

      She stared at him for a few seconds, as if struggling to see inside his mind, to believe he actually meant what he’d said. He didn’t know what else to say, to help her understand how he’d meant every word seriously. Nothing was going to get in the way of Josh’s ability to learn how to walk again.

       Nothing!

      If Molly Shriver had been hoping to get rid of him, she would be sorely disappointed. He was in this for the long haul. For Josh’s sake.

      No matter what.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      MOLLY WAS SECRETLY relieved that Josh’s father hadn’t decided to move his son’s care to another therapist. Remembering how she’d issued her ultimatum made her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Once again she’d allowed her redhead temper to get the better of her. Why on earth did Dan Morris bring out the worst in her?

      She took a deep breath and tried to prepare herself for their upcoming appointment. If she was smart, she would have insisted Josh be assigned to someone else. Emotionally, it would be better for her, as the young boy was already wiggling his way into her heart. And once he didn’t need her anymore, he’d take a piece of her with him, leaving a tiny hole behind.

      But somehow her instinct for self-preservation seemed to have abandoned her. Because it wasn’t just Josh she was beginning to care about.

      His stern-faced father was even more intriguing.

      Watching the two of them navigating their wheelchairs in the gym had given her a deep sense of satisfaction. The proud and hopeful expression on Dan’s face when Josh successfully transferred himself from the wheelchair to the therapy table and back again had been heartbreaking. It was clear how much he cared for his son. And she had to give Dan credit for keeping his promise. He hadn’t questioned her or interfered in her treatment plan in the past two days.

      Today was Friday, their last session before the weekend. She had a surprise for Josh, and hoped his father wouldn’t revert back to his old ways. She’d learned as the week had progressed that Dan did better with structure rather than impulsiveness. Maybe that’s what made him such a good cardiothoracic surgeon.

      That was too bad. She worked better by following her instincts. And today her instinct was to get outside and

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