Page 7 of Healing Hope

Jess blinked her pretty eyes, her mouth tightening. “Oh, no,” she breathed. “Whether or not you were still connected, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Paul wasn’t sure how he felt about Tara. Bitter and angry, definitely, but he hadn’t been heartbroken by their breakup, not by any means. As terrible as it sounded, he was a little relieved and vindicated.

Damn, that sounded bad. He felt guilty for even thinking it.

“So,” he continued, “I’m learning as I go, here. I’m an administrator at a hospital and I’ve been taking her into work with me, and some of the nurses are more than happy to give advice. Even if I don’t want advice, they give it to me.”

Jess nodded her head. “Yeah, women are like that. They see the floundering man and feel compelled to offer guidance. It’s a mothering thing.”

Hm, he supposed. Actually, it made sense. It was the same with his amputation. Women were either concerned that he wouldn’t live for the next hour with only one hand or they distanced themselves as much as possible. The women at La Jolla Center, nurses and doctors who had seen a lot of things, were not nearly as bad as the average woman from the street. They were used to seeing men injured and disfigured by war.

It was why he’d all but given up on dating in the actual world. Too many landmines, so to speak. It didn’t matter. He could not see himself dating soon, especially with a kid.

Ms. Swan, on the other hand, looked like the type of woman that dated a lot. Had she said she’d just come from a date in New Guinea? Who the hell did that?

In spite of himself, he wondered what kind of man would inspire her to travel around the world.

“Hope is old enough to be going to school part-time. But I haven’t registered her yet. I didn’t think she was ready.”

Ms. Swan, Jess, tilted her head as she watched the little girl play. “I’m not sure,” she said carefully. “Give me a few days to see how she does. To see how we do.”

Paul gave her a single nod. “I can do that.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get some dinner going.”

Jess spared him a look. “Go ahead, I’ll watch her.”

Wavering, he glanced between the two females. He felt like he should give Jess some pointers, at least what little he’d learned in the short time they’d been together. “She loves animals. We adopted that dog just a couple days ago and they’re already hooked on each other. I know bringing a dog into the house at this time was not a smart idea, but when she reacted the way she did, I couldn’t say no.”

Jess was already walking across the yard. Paul watched as she joined the little duo, sitting on the grass. He was too far away to hear anything Jess said, but he could tell that Hope wasn’t responding. She barely even looked at Jess. Instead, she wrapped around Sophie. Paul watched for a few more minutes before he pushed up to go into the house.

Once inside, he took a few minutes to go mount his prosthetic. Then he headed to the kitchen to start dinner.

* * *

Jess was sotired that she could’ve curled up on the ground and gone to sleep. The child watched her for a moment, then turned away, her spindly arms wrapped around the fuzzy little dog. The dog watched Jess and would probably have come to Jess if the girl didn’t have a death grip on it. So, she sat and just talked, giving the girl her name and telling her about the island where she’d just left. Jess knew the girl was listening because occasionally she would pause and the girl would glance up at her from beneath the fringe of her dark eyelashes, as if making sure she wasn’t going anywhere.

She was such a stunning little girl. Her eyes big and blue in her pale face, and her dark, shoulder-length hair blowing in the gentle breeze.

Eventually, Paul called across the yard that dinner was ready. Jess knew she could probably eat a hippopotamus and she told the girl that, eliciting a tiny snort. Well, a snort was better than nothing.

It could’ve been awkward sitting down at a table for dinner with two people she didn’t know, but Jess was used to being the one to start conversations. As much as she traveled, and as many people as she met, she’d taught herself to be forward. Even if she didn’t understand the language, she was confident in herself enough to break the metaphorical ice.

Jess realized when she sat down that it would be a completely silent dinner if she didn’t say something. When Paul motioned for the girl to put the dog down on the ground, the girl’s expression had sparked with something. But she leaned down and put the dog gently on the ground. Then Hope took her place at the table.

“So,” Jess said, “what’s the dog’s name?”

“Sophie,” Paul answered her.

The conversation stopped. Jess scowled. This wasn’t going to work at all if she didn’t have some help. “So, did you get her from Erin?”

Paul glanced at her, his blue eyes vibrant in the evening light. “Yes, we did, though this is exactly the wrong time to get a new dog. The two of them seemed to fall in love with each other, though.”

The odd little dog-was it a Chihuahua? No, too hairy. Maybe a poodle mix? It sat patiently beneath Hope’s chair. Even as she watched, Hope’s hand moved down to the dog, a little piece of chicken between her fingers. She looked at Hope.

“If you feed the dog from the table,” Jess said, “you are teaching it bad manners. Please don’t do that.”

A truculent expression crossed Hope’s face and she pulled her hand back, looking to her father for support. Jess could see how much Paul wanted to support his daughter, but he nodded. “Jess is right, Hope. We need to train Sophie the smart way.”

Some intangible knot of tension eased in Jess’s belly, even though it might make it a little harder to connect to Hope. Paul had supported her in front of his daughter, and that was huge.

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