"I wasn't aware you'd arrived, Mother." A sarcastic inflection laced his words.

"I was introducing myself to Miss Watson. I hope you appreciate how fortunate you are to have her."

"Oh, yes," his light, mirthless laugh was filled with disapproval. "About as lucky as I was the night of the accident."

"Brian." Jackie breathed his name in protest, but his head had already turned away. "You'll have to forgive him." Anger trembled from the edge of his mother's voice.

Anna glanced up, surprised. She would have thought Jackie Littrell was the type of woman who would not have lost her poise. "Don't worry, Mrs. Littrell. I understand."

An hour later Anna wandered, in the kitchen. Charity was busy fixing lunch. "Mr. Littrell's tray is ready. He has been taking his meals in his room lately."

"I'll take it to him," Anna offered. She wouldn't avoid another confrontation.

She knocked once before entering his room. "Good afternoon. I imagine you're anxious for this?"

"Then you imagined wrong."

"Listen, big boy, we can do this the easy way or we can do this hard. It's up to you."

"Nothing in my life's come easy," he responded.

Anna's laugh was filled with dry challenge. "You're sitting in this showroom house with people fighting to take care of you, and you want my sympathy? You're looking at the wrong person."

He tipped his head to side, and glared at her. "Get out -- or I'll throw you out."

"If you want me to leave, you will have to do it physically. That's pretty tough for a cripple."

His nostrils flared. "Don't be so confident."

"Oh, I'm sure." She tossed the words to him. "I run two miles a day, and in addition to being in great physical condition, I could flatten you with one swift punch. Look at you," she said. "You've been sitting in that wheelchair for over six months. Your muscles are weak and limp. I doubt you could lift your own weight. But if you want to try, don't let the fact that I'm a woman stop you."

He glared at her, as his hands turned the wheelchair around, and headed onto the verandah.

Before she left, Anna set up his tray. A smile spread to her eyes as she regarded the small contents. She'd bet hard cash Brian was going to eat his lunch.

When she returned she noted that she'd been right. He'd eaten every bit and would probably look forward to dinner.

"I'm taking you outside now," she told him in a calm voice.

"The hell you are."

She didn't argue. Instead she stuck her head out the door and called Dennis.

Almost immediately he appeared in the bedroom. "I'd like you to take Mr. Littrell to the beach."

"No!" Brian shouted angrily.

"Do as I say, Paul. Please." Anna encouraged.

"You so much as touch my chair and you're fired." The way he spoke proved that the threat wasn't an idle one.

"She told me you'd say that."

"Don't do it." The thin line of Brian's mouth was forbidding.

Uncertain, Dennis glanced at Anna for assurance. They'd had a long talk and had reach and understanding where Brian Littrell was concerned.

"You can't fire either of us. You realize that, don't you?" Anna explained in a bored tone.

"Like hell."

"As I understand the situation, it's your family who hired us, and therefore we work for them. Not you."

Brian's handsome face was twisted with rage as Dennis directed the chair out the back door and onto the sheets of plywood they had laid on the sand to help manipulate the chair.

The day was gorgeous, and a gentle breeze ruffed the soft curls around her face.

"Is that all?" Dennis looked to her and she nodded, as he turned and made his way back to the house.

Slipping off her shoes, Anna sat on the soft sand, and buried her feet in the hot sand. Lifting her face to the soothing rays of the sun, she closed her eyes, ignoring the angry man who sat beside her. "Tomorrow we'll start therapy."

"Therapy?" He questioned, looking at her with confused eyes.

She ignored the confusion in his voice. "Your first session will be in the morning with me in the pool. Later in the afternoon, Dennis will be helping you with the muscles in your arms, toning them up."

His fingers gripped the arms of his chair, "What has my mother told you?"

Anna watched, as the sand fell out of the palm of her hand, to the beach, "Nothing."

"I'll be damned before I fall into your plans."

"You've already damned yourself, so what difference does it make?" She rose slowly and rolled up her pant legs to her knees. The ocean was several feet away, and she ran to the water's edge. When she glanced back, she saw that Brian had somehow started making his way back to the house. For now, she'd let him escape. His pride deserved as much.

Anna didn't see him again until later that evening. She wasn't surprised when Charity proudly exclaimed that Mr. Littrell had eaten his dinner.

The sky was pink with the setting sun when she unpacked her flute and stood on the verandah. The music flowed from her freely. There'd been a time when Anna had to make a decision between music and health as a profession. Once the decision had been made to continue in health, she had no regrets. She was a good nurse, and she knew it. Cases like these were the best, and for a reason. Absently she stopped playing and rubbed her thigh.

"Don't quit."

The words surprised her, and she turned around. Brian had rolled out onto the verandah and was only a few feet away from her. Foolishly, she hadn't noticed their two rooms were adjoined, and shared the deck.

Thoughtlessly she raised the flute and began playing her favorite pieces. Lively jigs followed by the sweet soulful sounds of the classics.

"Where did you ever learn to play like that?" He asked in a whisper.

It was the first time, she had heard him speak, without being angry. "My father was a musician. I started as a child."

She found herself looking at him, as her heart filled with sadness. Looking at his legs, his hands, his arms, the wheelchair that bound him. He was arrogant, noble, proud, and trapped. She jerked her gaze away. She would not allow herself to feel sorry for him. She had never gotten emotionally attached to a patient, and she wouldn't start now.

For now Brian Littrell needed her, but that would soon change, and he would be free from the chains that bind him. As he became independent to live and love again, he wouldn't want or need her.

"Good night, Mr. Littrell," she spoke softly.

"Miss Watson?" He remained on the deck while Anna turned sharply and entered her room, closing the sliding glass door behind her. Her heart was pounding, and she placed a calming hand over it. What was the matter with her? Was she becoming attracted to this man? What utter foolishness. Two, maybe three months at the most, and she would be leaving.

Anna woke with the alarm early the next morning. The sun hadn't broken the horizon as she pulled the drapes open and stared into the distance. Quickly she dressed in pants and an old grey sweatshirt. She hadn't run on the beach before, and wondered about wearing tennis shoes.

When she figured she'd gone a mile or more, she turned and headed back. The house was in sight when she spotted a sea gull walking along the shore dragging its wing. Slowing her pace, she watched as the poor creature pitifully attempted to fly. After several tries, the large bird keeled over, exhausted. Realizing the pain it must be enduring, she stopped running hoping she could find some way of helping it. When she took a tentative step towards it, the gull struggled to sit upright and flee.

Speaking in soothing tones, she fell to her knees in the sand. "Long John Seagull what are you doing here?"

The bird hobbled a few steps and fell over.

"It looks like you need a friend," she said softly. "Stay here, I'll be right back." With urgent strides, Anna raced towards the house.

Breathlessly, she stumbled into the kitchen.

"Dear heavens! Are you all right?" Charity stood with her back to the sink.

Out of wind, all Anna could do was nod.

"You scared the daylights out of me!"

"Sorry." Anna managed to say. Not wishing to wake Brian she moved quietly down the hall to her room. Only yesterday she'd unpacked several emergency medical supplies. She grabbed them, threw them into a shoulder bag, and headed back through the kitchen.

"You headed for a fire?" Charity asked as Anna scurried through the kitchen again.

"No, I found an injured sea gull. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"But, Miss..." Charity called after her.

A half hour later her back ached and her fingers felt swollen and numb with the continued effort to helping the bird, without being cut by his beak. After carefully applying some antibiotic creme and binding it to his side with gauze, Anna felt confident the gull would heal.

Long John didn't look pleased as she picked him up and placed him in the bag. A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, as she saw that Brian was on the verandah watching her. Even from this distance, she could tell he was not pleased.

"His bark is worse than his bite," Anna informed the bird, who stuck his head out of the bag and looked around. "Don't worry. I know a safe place for you."