Worth It All(12)

Paige stepped into the giant workspace. An enormous square table took up the center of the room, and she imagined Jake leading some kind of brainstorming session like NASA, living out the company’s motto. She glanced around in amazement. “Did you design all of these?”

“Yes. Some are in the very early stages.” He ducked his head in an entirely modest gesture that was unbelievably sweet.

“You have a dog!” Casey headed straight to a large black dog lying under one of the tables. The lab mix stood and stretched as Casey approached.

“That’s Boulder.”

“Aww.” Casey knelt in front of him. “I want a dog. Poor baby. He has a hurt ear. What happened to him?”

Paige moved closer to join in the doggy love.

Jake knelt beside Casey and rubbed the dog’s head. “I’m not sure. I found him in the parking lot a few years ago.”

“And now he’s yours. You’re so lucky!” Casey lavished Boulder with attention.

The dog lay down in front of Casey and she promptly lay down beside him, then laughed as they pawed each other. “Aww. Look! He likes me.”

“He definitely does.” Jake agreed with an affectionate smile toward Boulder and toward Casey.

Lord, he was deadly, Paige thought. Heart-stopping smile. Lover of dogs. Miracle to those in need.

Boulder had evidently had enough of Casey and quietly lumbered out of the room.

Casey made a grab for him, but he was gone. “Hey. Where’s he going?”

“Down the hall to Carol probably. She hides treats in her desk.” Jake took in Casey’s forlorn expression. “He’ll come back. Let’s have a look at your leg while we wait.”

He straightened to his full height and standing so close, she fought against the shiver trying to run through her body. Focus. Paige sat Casey on the wooden table, removed the flesh-colored prosthesis, and handed it to Jake. It looked incredibly small as he turned it in his big hands. He had beautiful hands.

“She’ll probably get a new one on her next visit to Shriners,” she said, pulling her thoughts together. “The replacement schedule has been every year, but that will likely change when she turns five.”

“Which is in not many days,” Casey said.

Jake nodded and laid the prosthesis on the table. He leaned down closer to Casey’s level. “Can you show me where it bothers you specifically?”

“I don’t know what pespeficky means. Do you have gum?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry. No gum and it means where exactly is it hurting you the most?”

Casey lay back, straining to reach something she definitely should not touch. “How did you get this table through the door?”

“Casey Marie.” Her tone was clear and Casey sat up. “Just point where it hurts.”

With her hands under her thigh, Casey pulled her leg up toward her face, lying back on the table again. “Mostly around here.” She did a twirly circle with her finger around the entire stump that was a couple of inches below her knee.

“Sorry. She’s not too scientific.” Paige peeked at Jake to see if he was becoming exasperated. Nope. Didn’t seem to be. In fact he seemed relaxed and…pretty perfect.

“No problem.” He carefully inspected the stump for any signs of excessive pressure. She didn’t think there were any—she checked every day—but maybe he’d see something she didn’t.

“Do you like your leg?” Casey asked.

“Yes,” he said, moving to inspect the prosthesis itself. “Do you like yours?”

Casey shrugged. “Sometimes. Did you get it when you were a baby?”

“No. I was nineteen.”

“Oh. That’s old.”

Paige thought she caught something deep in his eyes, the memory of it, maybe, but the shadows disappeared as quickly as they’d come.

He gently helped her daughter put the prosthesis back on, making sure the sock was perfect and the fit suited him. When he was satisfied, he lifted her from the table.

“I don’t see any definite pressure points or problems with the components, but even the slightest change in gait can cause discomfort in her thigh or hip. If this doesn’t work, we can do some scans and have her walk on a treadmill that records and assesses her gait.”

Casey walked along the table and picked up a rounded piece of something.

“Casey—”

“She won’t hurt it,” he said lightly. “Hey, Casey, can you come walk in front of me?” He knelt again, making himself about eye level with her hips. He had her walk back in a straight line away from him, then toward him several times. Every now and then he’d have her stop so he could tweak the alignment screws with an Allen wrench.