Flashback Friday

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Genre: Sweet contemporary Romance

Length: 222 pages

Purchase HERE

Blurb: After an auto accident destroys his pro-football career, Matt McCallum struggles to find a new dream for his life, but nothing engages him the way football did. After a stint in rehab, he takes a job managing a grocery store where he meets Violet Emerson.

Violet works in the bakery department, but her dreams carry her far beyond the doors of Chef’s Pantry. As soon as she can save the money, she plans to open a catering business. And she thinks the new manager’s broad shoulders and blue eyes are simply divine.

Thrown together at work, Matt and Violet find a common dream for their lives, but a loose end from Matt’s past returns to jeopardize their future. Will love be enough to save their new dream before it turns into a nightmare?

Prologue

The red convertible cut a path through the moonlight, its

headlights dancing along the arched limbs of the trees above the

road.

“Oh, Matt, it’s such a beautiful night,” Stacey declared with

a sigh. “I’m going to miss you when you leave tomorrow.”

Matt reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll

miss you too, but if I don’t report on time, I’m in trouble with the

coach.”

“That’s what I get for falling in love with a pro football

player,” Stacey teased, her blonde hair turned to frosted silver by

the light of the full moon above them.

Matt squeezed her hand that wore his engagement ring. “It’s

too late to back out now,” he teased. “You’re mine.”

“Mmm, do I like the sound of that!”

The car rounded a curve, and without warning a deer

bounded across the road.

“Look out!” Stacey screamed.

Matt braked sharply to avoid the animal. The tires slid on a

patch of loose gravel in the road, and he lost control of the

convertible. It fishtailed and started to spin in the road.

Matt hauled the steering wheel to correct the slide, but it was

useless. The car turned around once more and skidded backwards

for a short distance before it charged off the road. It jumped a steep

ditch and went airborne. All Matt could see was a blur of trees and

darkness as the car careened into the woods. It made a lazy turn in

the air and came to rest bottom side up.

The last thing he remembered was the sound of Stacey’s

screams.

****

Marilyn McCallum drew a deep, shaky breath and groped

for her husband’s hand. “We’ve been waiting for hours now,” she

quavered. “What could be going on in that operating room, Rod?”

Rod never answered. His face contorted and he sprang to his

feet as a nurse approached. “Would you like some more coffee?”

she asked.

“We’d like to know about our son,” Rod answered. “Is

everything okay? He’s been in there so long.”

Nurse Whittaker patted him on the shoulder. “Please, don’t

worry. Dr. Williams is the best doctor on staff. He’ll do everything

he can.”

As she bustled away, Stacey Thomas, who sat beside

Marilyn, dropped her head into her hands. Marilyn tried to ignore

the smear of blood across the girl’s back. She swallowed hard

against sudden nausea. Stacey was fine even though Matt’s fate

was still up in the air. “Hang on. It can’t be long now.”

Tears slid down Stacey’s face. “This isn’t the way the day

was supposed to end. Matt and I had a beautiful time, but now…”

A tall man in sweat-­‐‑stained surgical scrubs approached

them. “Mr. and Mrs. McCallum?” The doctor’s voice brought all

three of them to their feet.

“How is he?” begged Marilyn, her eyes anxious, wide, and

staring in her white face.

“Better than I expected,” the doctor admitted. “His left leg

was mangled from the knee down. It took a long time, but I think

we’ve saved it. He has four screws and two plates, and he’ll

undoubtedly have a limp for the rest of his life, but we did save his

leg.”

“He kicks with his right leg anyway,” Rod muttered.

“Ah, well, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you

about. I’m sorry, Mr. McCallum. I saw him play last year, so I know

he had a wonderful career in front of him, but in spite of everything

we did, his right leg was hurt too bad to save. We had to amputate

right above his knee.”

“At least he’s alive,” Marilyn sobbed as she rhythmically

shredded a tissue. “I don’t care about his leg; I just want my son to

live.”

“I can almost promise you he will,” the doctor comforted

her. “Barring unforeseen complications, he’s going to be fine, and

as soon as his leg heals we’ll fit a prosthesis on him and teach him

how to walk again.”

“When can we see him?” Marilyn begged as she wiped away

her tears.

“He’s in Recovery now. We plan to put him in ICU until he’s

stable. The last thing we need is an infection, and we can watch him

better there. We’ll let you know as soon as he gets there. Then you

can see him for a minute.”

Rod groped for the sofa and fell backwards onto the

miserable thing. “The best kicker in thirty years,” he whispered,

quoting what a sports announcer had said on TV only hours earlier.

“The best kicker in thirty years, and now they have to teach him to

walk again.”

He jumped up as if he’d sat on a porcupine. “I’m going

home, Marilyn. Are you coming?”

Marilyn’s eyes bugged. “Are you serious? I’m not leaving

until I’ve seen him.”

“Stacey?”

“I… I’ll… go with you. I need to tell my parents Matt’s out

of surgery.”

Marilyn watched in amazement as Rod and Stacey hurried

away and sat back to continue her vigil alone.

****

Matt awoke early the next morning because the dull, aching

pain in his legs made him sick to his stomach. Must have been one

rough practice, he thought. He didn’t much want to get up yet. He

still felt tired out and kind of …heavy. Yeah, that was it; he felt

heavy. Too heavy in fact to bother opening his eyes, but Stacey was

holding his hand, so he forced himself to wake up.

A short, round, little woman, not Stacey, held his wrist. The

way she looked at her watch he decided she must be taking his

pulse. Where was he? What had happened to him?

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Who are

you?” he croaked.

She beamed at him as if he had done something wonderful.

“Oh, you’re awake now. I’m Nurse Whitaker. How do you feel?”

“I’m tired, and my legs hurt. Where am I?”

“You had a car accident last night, Mr. McCallum.” She

pulled a sheet and a thin white blanket across his chest. “You’re in

the hospital.”

“Stacey…”

“Your girlfriend is fine. Don’t worry about her.”

Matt closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his throbbing

temples. “I don’t remember what happened.”

“That’s normal. You may never remember everything.”

Matt tried to sit up, but he couldn’t muster enough energy.

“What’s wrong with me? Why is it so hard to sit up?”

“Oh, that’s because of the medication we gave you to help

you rest.” She patted his arm and checked an IV that he hadn’t

noticed until she touched it. “We didn’t want you tossing and

turning all night.”

“What’s wrong with me?” he repeated.

“Shh, don’t worry about that now. The doctor can talk to

you later when you feel better.”

Matt didn’t like the blank expression on the nurse’s face at

all. I must be hurt pretty bad. “No, tell me now,” he insisted.

Nurse Whittaker stuck a thermometer in his mouth. “You

have some trauma to your legs, Mr. McCallum, but the doctor says

you’re going to be fine.”

Matt spit the thermometer out. “Trauma to my legs?”

“Yes, sir, and I’d rather you talk to Dr. Williams about it.”

It’s bad. It has to be. “Tell me,” he demanded.

“Mr. McCallum…”

Matt forced himself to sit up. His head spun and made his

stomach turn over, but he managed to pull the sheet off his right

leg. Wow, he must really be out of it. It looked like most of his leg

was gone. He shook his head to clear away the cobwebs and looked

again. His leg was gone!

He started to shake and grabbed the nurse by the arm.

“Where’s my leg?” he cried.

The nurse took a look at one of the monitors in the room and

called, “Jenny, would you bring me another dose of Mr.

McCallum’s medication?”

A nurse arrived with a syringe which she injected into

Matt’s IV. “There you are,” she soothed. “You’ll be comfortable in a

few minutes.”

Dizziness washed over Matt. “What did…you…give…me?”

“Something to make you rest,” Nurse Whitaker answered.

“You go to sleep and don’t worry about a thing. We’re taking very

good care of you.”

****

Stacey shuddered and splashed some more water on her

face. The nausea had passed now. She staggered back into her

bedroom and threw herself across her bed. Matt’s legs looked

horrible! She’d give anything not to have been at the hospital when

the bandages came off. It had been bad enough when a sheet

covered Matt, but to actually see his mutilated legs turned her

stomach and made her feel faint.

She knew one thing, though. Until this afternoon she hadn’t

really understood that Matt’s football career had ended. Oh, she

realized he had lost a leg, but somehow it hadn’t been real to her

until she saw it for herself.

Rolling over, she curled into a tight, little ball. She had had

such fun going places with Matt. People always recognized him

and wanted his autograph. He had plenty of money too, and he

wasn’t stingy with it. The fame and money had thrilled her, but it

was all over and done with now. No more autographs or big

money.

Her stomach lurched again. She had more than just fame

and money to worry about. Matt had wanted to kiss her this

afternoon. In fact, when the doctor came in to take off Matt’s

bandages he had caught her sitting on the edge of the bed kissing

Matt. The doctor had kidded him about it, but she hadn’t minded

being interrupted at all. She…didn’t like to touch him too much

now.

Her thoughts drifted to the afternoon of their accident. Their

parents wouldn’t approve, but she and Matt had gone to Greenville

and checked into a luxury hotel that morning. They had spent his

last day of freedom in bed together. She drew a deep, shaky breath.

The day had been everything she’d dreamed it could be. Her body

tightened with the faint echo of passion. Matt was a good lover.

Oh, why did they have to have such a terrible accident? What

would happen to Matt now? Her engagement ring winked and

twinkled as it caught the light. She stared at it for a moment and

began to cry.

****

Matt stared at the empty physical therapy room and took a

sip of the hospital brew the physical therapy assistant had given

him. It could use a little work, but it did have a much needed jolt of

caffeine in it. He sighed, blinking away sleep. Why’d they schedule

him so early in the morning? He could have slept a little longer. It

wasn’t like he had anything to do.

The door opened with a click, and a tall, well-­‐‑built, young

man with dark hair entered the physical therapy office.

The man poured himself a cup of coffee. “Who’s the new

guy?”

The physical therapy assistant, Betty she’d said her name

was, shoved a folder at him. “Matt McCallum.”

“Oh, yeah. Man, that’s a shame.”

Betty scowled at him. “It’s always a shame when people are

hurt as bad as he was, Being a football player doesn’t make him

any different from anyone else.”

“I know and I didn’t mean anything bad. It’s just that he

played one year of pro ball, and it looked like he was going to be

one of the greats. Now, he’s here to get fitted for a prosthesis.”

“Well, I think he needs some counseling. He has that dull,

withdrawn, shell-­‐‑shocked look on his face.”

“Most amputees feel that way in the beginning,” the man

answered. “We can schedule him with Dr. Whitney if we need

too.”

Matt’s fists clenched. Didn’t they know he could hear them?

Didn’t they know how it made him feel for them to talk about him

like he was an old, washed up nobody?

The man picked up a file and joined him in the waiting area.

“Hi, Matt. I’m Sam Dickson.”

He held out his hand, and Matt took it briefly.

Sam indicated the file in his hand. “It says here you got the

bandages off yesterday and that the stump is nicely healed. Is that

right?”

Matt shrugged. “I guess.”

“Your other leg is banged up pretty bad too, so we have to

work with that as well, but the sooner we get started, the better off

you’ll be.”

“That’s what they say.”

Sam nodded. “Okay, today I’ll show you how to take care of

yourself. After that we’ll fit you for a temporary prosthesis.”

Matt’s head spun; he swallowed hard and focused on a bar

mounted on the wall to steady himself. “All right.”

Matt was a quick study. He paid close attention when Sam

showed him how to clean and protect the stump. Then, Sam passed

him the sock that went over it. “You put it on,” he said.

Matt repressed the shudder that shook him as he pulled the

sock on and smoothed it. “Very good,” Sam approved. “I hope

your motivation is this good once we get you up to walk.” He

laughed. “As a former athlete, a physical task might be more

appealing than what you just learned.”

Matt drew a deep, shaky breath. Of course he was

motivated! It humiliated him when anybody saw his legs or had to

help him get around. He was desperate to regain some control over

his own body.

A tall, striking brunette passed through the room and

waved to Sam who grinned and waved back at her. “Gorgeous isn’t

she?” he asked Matt, the look on his face reminding Matt of a

gamboling, goofy puppy. “Layla is her name. I’ve been trying to

get her to go out with me.”

Matt barely glanced at her. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”

Sam eyed Matt with a quizzical expression on his face.

“That was sure lukewarm, buddy. A woman that drop dead

gorgeous ought to get your heart pumping. Are you worried about

women now that you’ve lost your leg?”

Matt’s face colored, but he made no reply.

“Man, you need to think about how lucky you are. I know

you’ve lost a lot, but you can still be with a woman and father

children. Hurting your legs doesn’t mean the romantic side of life is

over for you.”

Matt raised his eyes to Sam’s for the first time. “You left out

one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Not too many women are interested in having sex with a

cripple. Seeing a stump like mine is a good way to kill the

romance.”

Sam squatted down so he and Matt were on eye level with

each other. “Matt, the nurses said you’re engaged. Have you talked

to your fiancée about all this?”

“That won’t be necessary. Stacey was with me yesterday

when the bandages came off. She turned as white as a sheet and

said she had to go home. A messenger brought her engagement

ring to me this morning.”

Matt cringed when he saw the look of pity of Sam’s face.

His stark, unemotional rendering of the facts hadn’t fooled the

therapist.

Sam slapped his shoulder and said, “Not all women are like

that, buddy. Some of them will stand by a man through thick and

thin. Next time you’ll choose better, right?” He stood up and took

hold of the handles on Matt’s wheelchair. “Let’s see about fitting

that prosthesis so we can get you walking again.”