Healing Hearts. Cheryl Wolverton
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answered, “Yes. That’s um, great, Stan, that you’re here.”
Stan chuckled. “I’ve been in town two weeks now. I live out west, on the other side of the hospital, but I saw you at the school, just before it let out. And you wouldn’t believe the way small towns are. I think I’ve heard everything about you and every other single person that lives in this Podunk town in those two weeks. I’d been waiting to contact you… Anyway, we’ll catch up later. I just thought I’d call and let you know I’m back.”
“Thanks, Stan. It’s good to hear your voice.” She meant that, in a way. In another way she didn’t. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. She remembered in the hospital when he’d worked on the therapy, the lasting result from the earthquake that flared up occasionally. She’d really enjoyed his company, maybe because he was so nice, did most of the talking, and showed such enthusiasm.
But when he’d wanted to walk her home and then sent her those cards…it was too reminiscent of her past with Michael.
He hung up.
Tessa replaced the receiver as well. Stan now lived in town.
What was she going to do? She toyed with the idea of dating him. He certainly was persistent. And he even attended the same church she did when he was in town on a Sunday—which wasn’t often. He had the time to spend with her.
She’d spent weeks in the hospital five years earlier when the earthquake had collapsed the building she was in. It was during that time she’d been told she would never have children—it was impossible from all the damage. That had devastated her, but Michael… Michael hadn’t been able to handle it at all.
After Michael broke off their engagement Tessa headed east, stopping in Hill Creek, Texas, where they had been seeking teachers. She had not kept in touch with many people—only one or two through occasional letters.
She hadn’t been able to date since. Twice men had found out about her infertility and had stopped calling. Stan was the first man who had shown an interest in her since then. Oh, she’d gone out with Mitch, entertaining the idea of maybe marrying the nice man. He was a sheriff and would provide safety. He was nice, quiet. But on that one date they hadn’t clicked. She’d actually wanted to leave from the time they’d entered the restaurant. It had been more than obvious to her that their waitress, Suzi, was in love with Mitch.
After that, she had resigned herself to being an old maid. But Stan was in town now. How interesting.
Worry made her bite her lip. She realized she was being silly since he probably only wanted to be a friend.
She stood and moved to go check on the puppy, wishing she could just forget the past and go on with the life she’d started here. She’d only taken two steps when she noticed her kitchen. Her mind went absolutely blank with shock. “Oh good heavens!”
Not only had a freezer been moved into her abode but they had totally reworked the stairs out back and they were just finishing the door. “What are you doing?”
“Wheelchair accessible, ma’am,” a new person said.
“This is my house!” she protested.
The ramp had obviously already been built and was simply being laid over her stairs and secured with railing. It was a long, slow incline, which meant it took up a large part of her walk. “Orders—”
“—ma’am,” she finished, then gasped when she realized they must have moved things around out back as well so they could put up the ramp. “I have turtles mating out there!”
“We moved them,” the carpenter said as if that answered everything.
“Where?” she asked, counting to ten. What had she let Freckles get her into? Her animals were in utter chaos. Her life was suddenly in utter chaos!
“Over in that round pond thing you have.”
Groaning she scooted past the men and hurried outside and down the ramp. She snatched up the turtles from the pond and set them out in another part of the yard. “This just isn’t going to do. What do they think they’re doing? Why are they destroying my house like this?” Tessa leaned down to retrieve another turtle.
“Do you always talk to yourself?”
The slightly slurred words caught Tessa’s attention. Peeking between her knees she saw a wheelchair and two sets of boots behind her. The feet in the chair had on dead snake boots, she noted distastefully, and a dark pair of jeans.
Realizing she was in shorts and giving the man a good view of her behind she dropped the turtles. Whirling, she met the gaze of the man in the wheelchair.
So this was Drake Slater. The man was thin, very thin—too thin for a person of his height. His face was white, indicating it’d been a while since he’d been out in the sun. His head had a huge scar on it, the hair just starting to grow out over the ugly pink-and-white spot. Down the entire right side of his face and neck, disappearing into his striped blue shirt, was a mass of thin, healing scars.
“Barbed wire.”
Realizing she was staring, she again met the gaze of the man in the chair. Deep green eyes filled with intelligence, though his right eye and a small bit of the right side of his mouth drooped, stared steadily back. She found she couldn’t break eye contact.
It wasn’t until one of the men dropped a hammer that she realized she was staring utterly dumbfounded. Those eyes had such a…strength…a…a… “Hello…Mr. Slater?”
The mouth stretched into a caricature of a grin. “You always have men coming to your door in chairs?”
She blushed furiously. Why she wasn’t sure. This man was in a wheelchair, for pity’s sake. She was in charge of this situation, not him. So why did his words have her blushing like he was the first man she’d met? But those eyes…a wealth of emotion shone in them. It was like he looked in her and knew what she was thinking.
No one had ever done that before.
“Ahem.”
Glancing past the ruffling black hair, Tessa realized the second set of boots belonged to a younger version of the man in the chair. Black hair, green eyes but instead of thin and emaciated, this man looked strong, ready to take on what life handed him—including her if his look of disapproval was any indication.
“Do you always walk around looking like a pirate, Miss Stanridge?”
She blinked at the younger Slater brother. “Excuse me?”
“Thaaat’s enough, Le-um,” Drake warned his brother mildly. Tessa remembered Freckles saying when he was upset or nervous he slurred his words. Her gaze snapped to his. His look traveled over her briefly, the corners of his mouth twitching just before he burst out laughing.
Liam gaped. So did Tessa for that matter.
“I like your bird,” Drake finally said.
Oh good heavens, Tessa thought, her cheeks heating up again.
Sam squawked.
She’d forgotten the bird was on her shoulder. Weakly she smiled. “They’re rearranging my kitchen. Sam was upset and wanted to be held.”
“Can I?”
Tessa hesitated, then thought she might as well let him try. Lifting her forearm, she signaled Sam with her index and middle fingers. The bird obediently stepped up onto the back of her hand. “He really doesn’t like other people, Mr. Slater….”
“Draeg…”
“Drake,” she nodded.
“Please.”
She met his eyes. In those eyes were not only intelligence but gentleness and need. She wasn’t sure what he needed but it was there in his eyes. Without another word, she held out the bird, which transferred itself onto his shoulder. She silently vowed at that moment to stop staring at this