Page 10 of Bear's Heart

But he wasn’t that man anymore.

He was a man with rage and moods and darkness, and he couldn’t let this darkness out.He couldn’t let anyone know or see, much less pretty Josie Calhoun with her sunny self-assurance and the dimple deep in her cheek.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.Crush her.God knew the world needed more optimism.He craved her optimism.Today, she’d exuded light and hope.She’d felt like pure oxygen.

But he remembered his last attempt at a relationship.He remembered the nurse he’d dated for four months last autumn.She’d been sweet and hopeful, too, and he’d crushed her.She’d been a little bit older than Josie, but she was similar in her kindness and determination to help.She’d been certain she could make things better.

But no one could make things right—short of God reaching down and healing his spine, and that wasn’t going to happen.He wasn’t going to walk.He wasn’t going to run.He wasn’t going to kneel.And he wasn’t going to be making love.

Who he was, what he was, would never be the same.

Bear struggled to sit up, and bracing his upper body with one arm, he yanked the damp tangled sheet out from his legs and gave it a little toss, cooling his skin, smoothing the sheet.He did it again, this time to calm his thoughts.Whatever he’d dreamed had upset him, and it was time to pull himself together.

He wasn’t going to slip into self-pity or despair.He couldn’t go to such a dark place, not again.He’d been there before, and it had been a battle to claw himself up, and out.He’d never understood depression until Savannah was gone and his world was narrow, reduced to appointment after appointment, just to regain control over his body.

He had control now.It wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t perfect, but he was better than he’d been two and a half years ago.Heck, the doctors hadn’t even thought he’d survive the accident, never mind come out of the coma.He’d been in the coma for almost a month, and there was concern he’d be brain damaged, along with paralyzed.

Thank God, he’d been saved from that, and he had independence now—hard won.Bear was proud of the strides he’d made, proud that despite his terrible fears, he’d moved forward, and he was doing something positive again.Something that wasn’t just about himself.

Maybe he had too many scars and legs that didn’t work but he had his brain, and his spirit wasn’t broken, and he was going to keep fighting—not just for himself but all the others with spinal cord injuries who needed someone in their corner.Bear was going to be in their corner.Bear was going to make sure others didn’t have to struggle alone.

Bear’s chest burned, and his eyes felt gritty.He blinked and swallowed around the ache in his throat, and the ache in his heart.

Thirty-three months ago, he couldn’t stop asking why.

Thank goodness, he’d finally reached the point where he could say,why not?

*

Bear was outsideretrieving his wallet from his Bronco when a blue truck appeared in his driveway and parked not far from where Bear was waiting.

A man wearing a trucker hat climbed out of his vehicle and came forward, hand extended.“Rye Calhoun,” he said introducing himself before looking at the ramp behind Bear.“That is an eyesore of a ramp.I’m sorry.”

Bear glanced from the ramp, not quite as offensively shiny in the early morning light, to the man in the trucker hat.“Can I help you?”

“I think I’m here to help you.”The stranger settled his trucker hat more firmly on his head, his dark hair long at the back, brushing the collar of his shirt.“I’m with Calhoun Construction.”

That still didn’t resonate with Bear.“Sent by whom?The design firm?”

“No.My sister.Josie.”

Bear was beginning to understand.“I told her Tuesday I didn’t need her help.”

Rye rocked back on his heels, hands on his hips.“She said it was an emergency.”

Bear shook his head.“No emergency.Just ticked off that I’m destroying my house with my chair.”

“I have a bigger interior door in the back of the truck for your bathroom.I’d hoped to get here yesterday but Paradise Lumber needed a day to track down a wider door for me.But I’ve got it now and it won’t take long for me to swap it out.”

“How do you know that your door would work?”

“Doors come in standard sizes, and Josie thought you had a thirty inch bathroom door.The one in my truck is thirty-six inches.If that’s the case it’d give you a lot more room.”

The corner of Bear’s mouth lifted.“I don’t suppose you happen to have a bigger bathroom in that flatbed?As Josie might have told you, mine is pretty small.”

“I heard.Why don’t you show me?”

“No need.I’m making do, and I hate to waste your time—”

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