The next week was miserable, an uneasing confrontation of wills. Brian fought her every step of the way. Several times it was all she could do not to retaliate out of her own frustrations.

She hadn't minced words when she told him the exercises were going to cause him pain, although he never indicated that she was hurting him. He worked with her because he had no choice and although he didn't resist her as she manipulated his legs he didn't aid her either.

Brian came onto the balcony at night as if waiting for her music. Rarely did he comment, silently wheeling back into his room after she'd finished.

On Saturday, Anna rose and dressed at the usual time. Her heart felt weighted, and she wasn't sure why. The crisp morning air felt cool as she slipped out the back door. First she checked on Long John, the sea gull she'd found and was nursing. He didn't like the confines of the fenced portion of the yard, but like Brian he was trapped and unable to free.

For six days she worked with them both and had failed to earn more than a grudging respect. At least the bird wanted his freedom. But Brian had no will to walk or enter the mainstream of life. What would make a man content to sit in a chair? Or was this all another battle of their wills, in which he was determined to prove he didn't need her?

Long John squawked, and Anna focused her attention on the bird. "Good morning, fellow," she whispered. "Are you glad to see me?"

The gull stared at her blankly.

"Don't worry, I'm not any more popular with the master, either." She yearned to reach out and comfort her winged friend. She wanted his trust, as she wanted Brian's, at least enough that the bird would allow her close enough to touch him. But he wasn't confident enough yet. Moving slowly, she placed a bowl of cut up fish and high-protein gruel on the ground and filled his bowl with fresh water. On her knees, she held herself motionless for several moments, hoping he would be hungry enough to overcome his natural reserve. It didn't take her long to realize that the bird wouldn't eat as long as she remained.

Releasing the latch, Anna let herself out of the gate and locked it. For a time she stayed and watched, but Long John defiantly remained where he was.

She needed to get away. An evening away would give her more prospective.

As she turned and headed back for the house, a solitary figure on the balcony caught her attention. She hesitated, hands thrust deep into jean pockets. Was Brian Littrell watching her? Maybe he was hoping she'd go away and never return.

The morning followed it's usual routine. Anna brought him his breakfast.

"Good morning," she greeted with a smile. "You were up bright and early this morning."

His response was muffled and gruff.

"Long John seemed to be in an identical mood this morning."

"Long John what?"

"The sea gull," she exclaimed as she set the tray on the desk.

"Good grief, don't tell me you've still got that poor creature."

"He's improving, which is more than I can say..." She let the rest of what she was going to say fade when Charity appeared in the doorway.

"Mr. Littrell's here to see you."

"Bring him in Charity," Brian instructed briskly.

The woman shifted from one foot to the other. "Mr. Littrell said he wanted to see Miss Watson."

Brian's gaze swiveled to Anna for a long, considering look. "What could my father possibly have to say to Miss Watson?" He demanded harshly.

"I'll take notes, if you'd like." Anna volunteered in a pert tone.

"Don't bother," He drawled his indifference.

Anna felt his gaze burning into her shoulder blades as she stepped out of the room.

"Miss Watson," Harold Littrell stood, extending his hand. He was tall and as large as Jackie Littrell was small. "My wife mentioned you wanted to see me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I'm glad you've come." She sat in the large modern chair across from the distinguished-looking man.

"It's only fair that I tell you how pleased my wife and I are that you've agreed to take on Brian's case."

"I think I'm the lucky one. I've never had the pleasure of working in such elegant surroundings."

"Yes, well...." The older man cleared his throat. "We want you to know we appreciate what you've done."

"I haven't done anything yet," Anna admitted wryly. "But part of your son's recovery will depend on you."

"Anything," he rubbed a hand across his face, his eyes tired.

"Part of Brian's therapy will be mental as well as physical. He's got to be brought back into life, given responsibilities." She hesitated, leaning forward slightly so that her elbows rested on her knees. "Your wife mentioned that you've assumed Brian's job in the company since the accident. In some ways this is good, but the time has come to return those duties."

"How do you mean?"

"Decision-making, paperwork. These are things that can be done from the house. At least come to Brian when a decision needs to be made. Part of the problem with your son is that he feels useless. Prove to him he's needed."

"He is," Harold returned forcefully.

"Don't overpower him," she suggested. "Start with updates and reports that will keep him in tune with what's happening. Then gradually lead into the other things. I don't know that much about the business, but I'm sure you'll know how to approach this." Dr. Richardson had told her that the Littrells' owned a ski equipment company. Anna had never skied, but from Brian's home and lifestyle it was easy to see the business had been a profitable one.

Harold looked down, but not before his dark eyes conveyed the toll of the last months. "I'm not sure of anything anymore."

"Your son's going to be fine, Mr. Littrell." She leaned forward and gave the elder Littrell's clenched fist a reassuring pat. "He's strong-willed and determined."

Tears glistened in the proud man's gaze. He closed his eyes and gripped her hand, lifting it to his lips.

"My, my, isn't this a touching scene." Brian wheeled into the room. "My nurse? Honestly, Father, I think you're lowering your standards unnecessarily."

Harold sprang to his feet, his face twisted with rage. "You will apologize for that remark. Wheelchair or no wheelchair, I won't have a son of mine make that kind of suggestion."

"Mr. Littrell, please." Anna could feel the hot color explode in her face. "This isn't necessary."

"It most certainly is," he barked.

How often Anna heard that same tone of voice. Father and son shared more than looks.

Brian's gaze hadn't relented. "I regret the implication," he managed between clinched teeth.

"If you'll excuse me." Anna all but ran from the room. Her heart felt as if she'd completed a marathon as she let herself in her bedroom.

When she slipped out of her room and into the hall, she could hear the angry exchange of bitter words. Anna wanted to shout at them both. Arguing would solve nothing. She bit into her bottom lip tightly and moved outside.

Dennis was lounging in a chair by the pool when she came out. "Morning," he said. "How's it going?" Anna rolled her eyes expressively, and Dennis laughed. "He's really something isn't he?"

"You can say that." Her relationship with the other staff members had relaxed considerable. Almost everyone called her Anna. "How are the afternoon sessions coming?"

Dennis shrugged. "Better, I guess. At least he's stopped yelling."

"In other words, he submits, and that's about it."

Dennis nodded.

"At least when he yelled we knew he was involved." Absently Anna slipped off her sandal and dipped her foot in the water. "This attitude concerns me."

"It's like he's given up."

"I won't believe that," Anna murmured thoughtfully. "Not a man like Brian Littrell. I think he's afraid to show he cares simply because he cares so much." Anna gelt Dennis' gaze and glanced up.

"I think you're right."

Anna's look met his. "I'm betting on it."

Charity ambled toward them, wiping her hands on the ever present apron. "Mr. Littrell told me to tell you he's ready for you now."

"I'll be right there." Denis sat up and stretched his arms above his blond head. "See you in a few minutes."

"I'll be ready." Anna waited until he was out of view before dropping the terrycloth cover and stepping into the water. Even with her ears in the water she heard the approach of Brian's chair. But she remained as she was until certain Brian was in the water.

As she straightened, their eyes met and clashed across the distance of the pool. Her attention was diverted by Dennis, who waved.

"See you later, Anna."

"Anna?" He spit out the word distastefully. "Your name is Anna?"

She wouldn't rise to the barbed comment.

"Talk about irony." His laugh lacked warmth. "A torturer named Anna. It's almost hysterical."

"Are you ready?"

"No, I'm not." He held himself stiffly against the side of the pool. One elbow was elevated onto the tiled rim, supporting his weight.

Undeterred, Anna swam to his side. Viciously he lunged for her, his fingers biting punishingly into her upper arm.

She attempted to struggle free, but his hold was surprisingly strong.

"I hope it hurts," he said cruelly.

"Let go."

"What do you know of pain?" He sneered. "How can you possibly know what it is to lie in a hospital and pray to God you'll die just so the agony stops?"

With her jaw clenched, Anna tried to pry his fingers loose. Already she could imagine a bruise forming.

Brian tightened his grip. "What could you know of pitying looks and lost dreams?"

She struggled, and demanded a second time, "Let me go."

"Does it hurt? Good, it's supposed to." His eyes darkened with emotion. "Be objective about it. Isn't that what you said to me? Your turn, Miss Miracle Worker."

Boldly she met his gaze, and to her horror tears welled, blurring her vision. She hadn't expected to cry, and hated herself for the weakness. Burying her chin in her neck, she took in a shuddering breath.

His hand relaxed, setting her free. As she pulled away she heard him utter a frustrated groan. Twisting her upper torso, she dove under the surface. The water felt cool against the flushed skin of her face. Her arm throbbed.

"Dennis," Brian shouted. The muscle-bound man appeared almost immediately. "Get me out of here," he muttered thickly.

Dennis glanced at Anna who nodded and turned her back to the pair. A hot tear scalded her cheek. What did she know about pain? It was funny enough to make her want to laugh.