Page 8 of Her Summer Hope

Too late now.

“Mr. Daniels?” Kyle asked, holding out his hand.

“That’s me,” the man said with a worn and tired smile. He looked exhausted, but his eyes held hope…and that was precisely what he wanted to see.

“I’m Kyle Logan, Executive Director of McClellan’s Hope. We spoke on the phone,” he said as the man shook his hand firmly.

“Mr. Logan, we’re very honored that you’ve allowed Aiden to have a place here. We believe it will do him a world of good.” He looked over at his wife. “Won’t it, Betsy.”

The woman, Aiden’s mother, looked careworn and tears sparkled in her eyes, but her face held optimism. Kyle smiled and took her hand as well.

“Please, call me Kyle or Logan. We are very informal here. We’re all just old team guys trying to do our part.”

“Then you must call us Richard and Elizabeth.” He opened the back door of the van and Kyle got his first look at Aiden Daniels.

“Damn it, he’s practically a kid,” John murmured out of the hearing of the others.

Internally, he was furious. Externally, he was as cool as ever.

He was in his middle twenties and one side of his face was severely damaged. His legs ended just below the knee joint.

He was staring straight ahead, his left eye covered by a black patch. The left side of his face was a network of scars and skin grafts. His mouth was twisted up by the disfiguring scars, leaving him with a permanent sneer. His left ear was gone. His scalp was mostly unaffected, and his brown hair hung in waves to the bottom of his ear. Kyle knew he probably used it to hide his injuries.

Kyle reached out and took his right hand from where it rested on his thigh. “Aiden, I’m Kyle. I’m glad to meet you.”

His right eye twitched, but there was no response. Kyle readjusted his stance and approached the problem from another direction.

“Richard, Elizabeth, why don’t you help Aiden inside so we can show him around? We’ll have a little lunch and get to know each other better.”

Elizabeth smiled gratefully and began pulling bags from the back of the van. Kyle made a small gesture with his finger and Murdock strode to the back and loomed over Elizabeth—a little menacingly, or so Kyle thought—but he just plucked the bags gently from her and gave her a nod.

They were going to have to work on Cal’s people skills.

She smiled in thanks, and that was that.

“Son?” Richard asked.

Kyle watched the older man lean over and start to try to maneuver the younger man out.

“I’ve got it!” he exploded and brushed off his father’s hands.

Kyle watched him carefully as he lifted himself down and into the chair. He was angry—that was to be expected—but he hadn’t given up. He had strength in his arms and his thighs if Kyle judged correctly.

There seemed to be no spinal injury to complicate the situation, no paralysis.

The young man had a chance at a meaningful recovery if he could find it within himself to fight for it. The doctors would share his rehabilitation plan after they assessed him, and Kyle was going to do everything he could for the kid.

He was too young to be suffering so much.

∞∞∞

That evening, after Aiden had been settled in the accessible suite and had taciturnly dismissed Kyle, Evans met him in the employee living room.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said.

Kyle groaned. “I hate those words. Nothing good ever comes after I hear them.”

“At least this time doesn’t involve snipers, mortars, a Taliban attack, or the prized village goat mistakenly put on a spit,” Evans pointed out.

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