Yuletide Redemption

“Every morning your voice echoes in my head, chiding me about working hard and pushing through.” Sam’s left leg trembled at the exertion of the last hour. His right hip was ready to explode. The pain differed from what he’d been feeling at home, though. He recognized it from all those months he’d worked with Dr. Rachel Stepmeyer. The pain of exertion brought a rush. And hope.

Last time he’d hoped, he’d been let down. How many times had he prayed for complete healing? He’d believed God would heal him, too. He’d memorized the Bible verse about being able to move a mountain with enough faith. His faith hadn’t lacked. God hadn’t listened to him.

God didn’t care.

“The good news is your muscles haven’t atrophied. You’re weaker, obviously, and you’ve lost some range of motion, but commit to your sessions and you’ll get it back. We have a new muscle stimulation system. It could help with your pain.” Dr. Stepmeyer typed something into her tablet. “I want you out of the wheelchair more. I know it’s hard, but the crutches will force you to build muscle in your legs.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That brought a hint of a smile to her face. She handed him a brochure about muscle stimulation. “Read this over and let me know if you want to try it.”

“I will.” He tucked it between his thigh and the side of the wheelchair.

“See you on Wednesday.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Sam?”

He waited.

“It’s good to have you back.”

Nodding, he spun the chair and wheeled away. Rain still pounded against the glass door. He didn’t see Celeste’s minivan, so he waited near the entrance. Ever since his last doctor’s appointment a few months ago, he’d pushed aside the nagging worry that the fall in the shower had killed his chances at ever walking unassisted. After the last surgery, Dr. Curtis had warned him it might take two more years for him to heal. If he healed...

But today Dr. Stepmeyer had assured him he just needed to keep working at it.

His thoughts turned to the conversation earlier in the car. Sam had made the offer to accompany Celeste to the practices because he thought she needed a friend. And, if he was honest, because he’d been thinking about her more and more each day. He wanted to spend time with her. Enjoyed talking to her. She didn’t put pressure on him the way his family did.

The fact she was avoiding the site of her accident didn’t surprise him. What did? How quickly she turned him down.

He wasn’t used to women turning him down.

Celeste’s red minivan stopped at the sidewalk. He pressed the button for the doors to automatically open. The handicap buttons were getting old. His life was getting old.

Would Celeste have said yes if he wasn’t in a wheelchair?

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Chapter Three (#u82386589-a981-5d5f-8615-4414f5bfc6a0)

Celeste pushed the dust mop across Sam’s living room floor while Parker stood, knees bouncing as he held on to the wooden coffee table. For three weeks she and Sam had been settling into a comfortable routine, one with clear expectations. She took Sam to and from physical therapy three days a week, shopped for his groceries at the crack of dawn on Tuesday mornings and cleaned on Fridays after his physical therapy session. Sometimes she wished their relationship wasn’t so businesslike.

Her mind wandered to her clients’ long to-do list waiting at home. She was a virtual assistant to busy, successful people, and working while raising Parker was proving more challenging than she’d expected. To fit in all the projects—from emails and phone calls to invoicing—she got up at six, worked a few hours and did the bulk of her duties when Parker napped or after he went to bed.

Then there was her main charge, Sam. At least she’d managed to nip her growing attraction to him in the bud by telling herself over and over that he was off-limits. Sam treated her for what she was—the caregiver who lived next door.

She sighed. One more room and she’d be finished with the light cleaning he required. This place needed some music, preferably upbeat Christmas songs. Hard to believe next week was Thanksgiving already.

“You think today will be the day Parker makes his big move?” Sam swung into the room on his crutches. After his therapy session, he’d disappeared to his bedroom to shower and change. His damp hair looked darker than usual, and his smile made her stop sweeping midstroke.

Look away! He can’t help he’s gorgeous.

Now that she was around more, she’d taken to studying him—to make sure he was okay. While around six feet tall, he wasn’t large. He had muscular arms, but his legs were lean from lack of use. Some days his face faded white and his lips tightened to a thin line. Those days she knew he was in a lot of pain. But today he had a relaxed air about him. He settled into his chair, setting the crutches down as he carefully straightened his leg on the ottoman.

He waved to Parker. “I think he’ll start walking on his own this week.”

“I hope so. Everything I’ve read said babies usually walk unassisted by twelve months. His pediatrician told me not to worry, but I can’t help it.”

Parker made a goo-goo noise and zoomed around the table, not taking his hands off it. He tripped, toppling over on his side.

“Oh!” She lurched forward, but Sam held his hand out.

“Let him be. He’ll figure it out.”

She paused, waiting for a cry, but Parker pushed himself back up and held on to the table once more. He stared at Sam with a big grin, then took a wobbly step toward him.

“Look at that! He’s doing it!” Sam held his arms open wide, reaching as far as his extended leg would allow him. “Come on over, buddy.”

Celeste whipped her phone out of her back pocket, fumbling to enter the passcode. She pressed Video and directed it Parker’s way. He stood immobile with his hands in the air, but he hadn’t taken a step yet. Come on, come on, you can do it, little man!

Parker lifted his chunky leg and promptly fell on his bottom. She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Oh, well. He’ll do it one of these days.”

“Maybe today. You never know.” Sam made funny faces at Parker, who laughed and crawled to him, pulling himself to the edge of Sam’s chair. Sam picked him up.

At the sight of Parker on Sam’s lap, Celeste’s heart swelled. He always had a smile for her nephew, often shaking his tiny hand or ruffling the hair on his head, but this was the first time he’d held the boy. The picture they presented? Priceless. But unwanted thoughts surged through her mind. Josh should be here cradling his son. What if Parker never has a daddy?

What if she ended up raising Parker alone forever? It was a scenario she knew could come true. What guy would want to raise her nephew and wake up to her scars every morning?

Celeste was it for Parker. Part of her loved being his mom, but the other part worried she’d never be enough. The baby had lost his mom and dad, and he was stuck with his aunt who’d basically become a recluse.

She grabbed the dust mop with more force than necessary and swept the rest of the floor while Sam made funny explosion noises and tickled Parker, who giggled loudly. Outside, the wind blew a few straggling brown leaves across the deck. Winter had arrived. Snow would be coming soon.

“Why don’t you take a break, Celeste?”

With a few taps she emptied the dishpan in the trash. She never lingered after cleaning, but then, Sam never asked her to stay, either. What would it hurt? Parker looked so content on his lap she didn’t have the heart to tear him away. “Okay.”

She took a seat on the leather couch. Crossed one leg over the other. Had no clue what to do next. Parker yawned.

“I noticed you running the other day.” Sam tucked him under his arm. Be still her heart. There was something very appealing about Sam holding a child. “Your parents still helping out?”

“Yes. They miss him. They swing by after work a few days a week. They’ll be here Sunday, too.”

“Good.” He didn’t seem to know what to say, either. His eyes darted around the room. “I didn’t know you ran.”

“I haven’t as much lately. The days are getting shorter, so my long runs are numbered.”

“Oh?” He adjusted his leg, holding Parker firmly. Parker’s eyes had grown heavy, and he let out another big yawn.