Mendoza's Miracle. Judy Duarte

      She was the only person whose presence didn’t make him want to scream. Maybe that was because she hadn’t known him before and didn’t have any preconceived notions of how he “should” react to things. Or maybe he just appreciated the fact that she didn’t walk on eggshells around him and act cheerful when she wasn’t.

      Then again, she was a beautiful woman, inside and out. How could he not want to be one hundred percent whenever he was around her? After all, he might be wounded, but he wasn’t dead. And certain parts of his body weren’t in need of any rehab at all.

      Leah made her way to the head of his bed and rested her hand on the railing. Her fingers were long and tapered, her nails neatly manicured. Her touch, as he’d come to expect, was light yet steady and competent.

      He was tempted to reach out to her, to place his hand over hers. But before he could ponder the wisdom—or the repercussions—of doing so, she said, “I’ll ask them to continue their discussion in one of the conference rooms.”

      That would help. “Thanks.”

      She nodded, then left his room to join his family in the hall.

      The last voice he heard was Leah’s saying, “Why don’t you come with me.”

      As Leah led the Mendoza family past the nurses’ station, their footsteps clicking upon the tile floor, she said, “Javier was listening to your conversation, so I thought it would be best if you finished your discussion in private.”

      “Aw, man.” Luis, Javier’s dad, raked a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for him to overhear what we were saying. It’s just that we’ve been worried about him.”

      Leah had been concerned, too. She’d noticed the change in Javier’s attitude whenever his family came to visit. She’d even asked him about it one day, although he’d shrugged it off as no big deal and then changed the subject.

      “Being incapacitated is a big blow to a man like him,” Leah said as she walked along the hall.

      They all nodded in agreement.

      “It’s too bad you didn’t know him before he was injured,” Luis said.

      Leah would have liked knowing him before. Even in his injured condition, she’d found him to be intriguing. And if truth be told, she stopped by to visit him even on those days when she’d been assigned to other rooms and patients.

      “Javier is a contractor and a real estate developer,” Luis added as he strode next to Leah. “And he’s always been enthusiastic about whatever project he was working on. In fact, those deals always seemed to energize him. But now, if we mention anything about business or properties, he changes the subject.”

      Leah had picked up quite a few details about her patient, including the fact that he’d been very successful with his land dealings and that he had a nice house in one of the better areas of Red Rock—custom-built just for him.

      “He’s also a part-time musician,” Isabella, his older sister, added. “And he’s an athlete. He played both tennis and golf before his accident. But if we mention music or sports, he clamps his lips tight and his expression turns grim.”

      “I’m sure, in time, he’ll play golf and tennis again.” Leah opened the door of the conference room that was located just beyond the nurses’ station and waited for Luis Mendoza to enter, followed by his son, Rafe. Next came Rafe’s wife, Melina, and Isabella.

      “My brother has always been positive and energetic,” Isabella said. “So it’s heartbreaking to see him depressed.”

      “I’m sure it is.” From everything Leah had gathered, Javier Mendoza was bright, ambitious and successful. She’d also overheard his family mention that he had an active social life and that he was one of Red Rock’s most eligible bachelors.

      To be honest, if Leah had run into him before the accident—and if he’d given her the time of day—she would have found him more than a little appealing herself.

      Actually, she did now—even when he was stretched out on a hospital bed or seated in a wheelchair.

      “I’m an occupational therapist,” Melina said. “So I understand where Javier is coming from. I’ve worked with many accident victims, some of whom had to face the reality of never being the men or women they once were. It’s tough to face your own mortality and frailties, so Javier’s depression is only natural. Besides, he’s a competitor at heart. And he’s always prided himself on being the best. So dealing with his incapacitation—even one that’s temporary—is going to be especially tough for him.”

      “That’s what I’m talking about.” Luis looked at Leah as though appealing for her agreement. “Don’t you think it would be good if he talked to a psychologist or a counselor?”

      “Yes, I do,” she admitted. “And once he’s moved into a room at the rehab facility, he’ll have an opportunity to speak to a professional.”

      “So you’re saying we should back off?” Luis asked.

      If there’s one thing Leah had learned about Javier Mendoza, it was that he didn’t like to be pushed—whether it was to eat a bit more of his meal or to take some medication to help him sleep.

      “I would wait a bit longer,” she said. “He has a lot to deal with right now. Time is really your best ally.”

      The family seemed to ponder her suggestion, which she hoped was the right one. When Dr. Fortune ordered Javier’s transfer to the rehab unit, she’d be sure to mention the family’s concern in her report.

      “You know,” Rafe said, “I’ve been thinking. We’ve asked his friends and business associates to refrain from coming to see him. After all, he was in a drug-induced coma for a month. And then they brought him out of it slowly. For a while, he suffered some confusion, so we knew he wouldn’t want to see anyone other than family. But maybe it’s time to let people know that he’d like to have visitors.”

      “I don’t know about that,” Isabella said. “His mood is difficult enough for us to deal with.”

      “I’m not saying that we should encourage everyone to visit, but what about one of those women he used to date?” Rafe reached for Melina’s hand. “My lady always puts a smile on my face.”

      At that, everyone in the room broke into a grin.

      Everyone except Leah.

      Somehow, she didn’t like to think of the women Javier used to date before his injury and hospitalization. And why was that?

      It wasn’t as though she had plans to date him herself. She’d never get involved with one of her patients.

      Oh, no? a small inner voice asked. Then why did her heart drop each time she saw that Javier’s room had been assigned to another nurse?

      She didn’t have an answer to that—only to argue that she’d grown fond of Javier. She understood the uphill battle he’d been waging and seemed to have bonded with him somehow.

      The fact that he was not only handsome, but personable, and that she found him attractive had nothing to do with it.

      That’s not true, that pesky little voice said.

      As much as she wanted to object, to defend herself and her feelings, she had to admit that there was something about Javier Mendoza that called to her.

      Something she couldn’t explain.

      Javier had been surfing the channels on the television in his hospital room for several minutes, but he couldn’t seem to find any shows that interested him.

      A tennis match only made him resent the fact that he wouldn’t be able to play for months, if not years. And the news stations reminded him of how much he’d missed during the time he’d spent in the ICU.

      Hell, he could hardly remember what his life had been