The Test of Love. Irene Brand
an expert in his field, and he would be hard to replace.
When she left the chapel, Connie hadn’t gotten the answers she’d come to find.
Connie awoke to bright sunshine and the sound of a white-winged dove cooing outside her window. She threw back the covers and hit the floor with a song bursting from her lips. She couldn’t match the dove’s refrain, but she had a melody of her own.
Kim’s bed was neatly made, and the apartment was empty. Kim had already gone for her early-morning swim.
Changing into sweats, and feeling a tremendous joy in the new day, Connie joined Peggy on the two-mile round-trip run they took every morning. Joseph would be coming to the Center today, and she fleetingly wondered if that was the reason for her joyful attitude. Of course it was, for she always looked forward to helping a new patient—her excitement didn’t have anything to do with the captivating masculinity that, in spite of his disability, Joseph radiated.
Connie waited in her office, and when Joseph didn’t telephone, she wondered if he’d decided not to come, but she soon heard his halting tread in the corridor. Kim greeted him warmly, and said, “Connie is in her office. Go on in.”
Joseph paused with his hand on the doorknob, feeling giddy at the thought of seeing Connie again. She’d been uppermost in his thoughts for two days, and he blushed when he remembered that her presence had even infiltrated his dreams. Banishing such thoughts from his mind, he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
Joseph was dressed in jeans and a red-plaid flannel shirt that lent color to his face, which had grown pale during his hospital confinement. During previous television interviews, Joseph had always appeared as a tanned and hardy outdoorsman, and his casual appearance today pleased Connie.
After they were seated, he said, with some apprehension and a hint of belligerence, “Well, was I accepted or not?”
“Yes. We’re willing to give it a try if you are.”
“The sooner the better,” he muttered. “My leg has been giving me fits this morning. I brought my luggage.”
With a gleam in her eyes, she said, “You were unfortunate enough to draw me for your personal trainer. We rotate assignments based on workload, and since we discharged one of my patients last week, I was next in line for an assignment. After a week, if we aren’t compatible, you can have another trainer.”
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
Considering her sensitivity to Joseph’s physical appeal, Connie knew very well why it might be necessary to appoint a different trainer for him, but she said evenly, “It doesn’t happen often, but we’ve had a few cases of personality conflicts, and when that happens, the patient is given the option to have another trainer.”
“I’m sure we’ll get along all right,” Joseph said with a grin. “I’m peaceable until the pain gets too bad.”
Connie picked up a folder from her desk. “Let’s sit at the conference table,” she said, indicating an oval table near the window. Joseph pulled out a chair, seated Connie, then took the chair beside her. She spread out several sheets of paper.
“I’ve planned a three-month program for you.”
“You still think it will take that long?”
“Probably. We’ll start slowly and gradually work up to your potential. I want you to walk out of here at the end of three months as physically fit as you were when I saw you ride a bucking bronco at the state fair two years ago.”
“You saw that, did you?” His gray eyes flashed with pleasure.
“On television—but it impressed me.”
“Bronc riding is a hobby for me, and most of my riding has been local. I thought my rodeo days were over, but I’m beginning to hope again. Dr. Melrose said that NLC would have that effect on me.”
“We’ll make every effort. Today, we’ll settle you into a dorm room and do a few exercises.” She handed him several sheets of paper. “Tomorrow, we’ll start on this schedule, and then add a little more distance and additional exercises each day.”
He glanced through the papers. “Looks as if I’ll be busy enough.”
“Our residents work at their own speed. Some are up at the break of dawn, swimming, jogging or working out in the gym. The day’s schedule for everyone begins with worship services at half-past seven, and breakfast at eight. I always go jogging and shower before chapel, but until you’re stronger, you should wait until after breakfast to start your physical activity. Other meals are at noon and six o’clock in the evening. Three meals a day and chapel are mandatory. Otherwise, it’s up to the trainer and the client to decide on the individual’s program.”
“Do you actually believe that Christian worship makes a difference in the healing process?”
“Absolutely! It’s been proven that people with a strong, practicing faith heal faster than those who don’t believe in God.”
“I’ve read those reports, but the people who heal more rapidly are those suffering from depression, hypertension, heart disease and similar problems—not anyone with an injury like mine.”
“You’re right to a degree, but one medical school study found that deeply religious surgical patients are less likely to die than those who find no comfort in religion.”
“I don’t believe it, but at this point, I’m desperate enough to try anything. I’ll attend chapel.”
“Even if you don’t achieve complete healing, if your spirit is freed, you won’t mind the physical injury so much.”
Connie didn’t think she’d convinced him, but Joseph glanced through the papers. “So my goal for the first week is to walk a mile and back, starting at nine o’clock each morning.”
“Yes. The first days, you won’t be able to walk that far, but hopefully you’ll be able to by the end of the week. After the walk, you should rest in your room, and then spend an hour in the pool before lunch. In the afternoon, you can work in the gym at your own speed.”
“I notice you don’t have anything scheduled for evenings. Is that time reserved so the patient can take his trainer out for dinner?” Joseph hoped his expression didn’t reveal his consternation. What had prompted him to make such a suggestion?
Startled, Connie swung a quick look in his direction, and their gazes locked for a few tense seconds. Connie deliberately ignored his remark and stacked the papers in front of her in an effort to regain her composure.
“A masseur and a masseuse come from Denver each evening, and many clients find it beneficial to have a massage several times a week. There are support group sessions where patients talk over the problems they’re having. We show movies each night—nothing but comedies because laughter, too, is a part of the healing process. Or evening can be a good time to enjoy the peace and solitude of our surroundings. I’m proud of the grounds here at NLC—they’re especially lovely in the spring.”
“The lake near the gate is beautiful,” Joseph drawled, chastened by her silent reprimand. Well, he’d asked for it. His remark was out of line.
“There are benches around the lake,” Connie continued, and he couldn’t tell from her voice if she was annoyed with him, “and many of our clients find it restful to sit and watch the ducks. The lake is stocked with fish, too, if you’re interested in fishing.”
“I’ve done a lot of trout fishing, but I prefer to do that in a mountain current.” His face hardened and his gray eyes dulled, and Connie suspected Joseph wondered how he could ever stand again in a cold mountain stream when he couldn’t even walk unaided.
Connie joined Joseph in his blue pickup, and they drove to the dorm. “I arranged for you to sleep on the second floor because climbing stairs will be beneficial to you. However, there’s an elevator to use when necessary.