Page 3 of Bear's Heart

He glanced away, jaw aching with suppressed fury.He’d taken a hard fall last night trying to get through the narrow bathroom door to the toilet, and some falls bruised the ego, but this one had jarred his spine sending shockwaves of pain throughout his upper body.God only knew what his paralyzed lower half thought of it.

“I do want to help,” she said quietly, her tone growing serious.“And I can.At least, as much as you’ll let me.”

He looked at her, his gaze sweeping over her, even as emotion filled him, nearly overwhelming him.Before he’d been hurt, he was the one helping others.Before Tulsa, he’d been the strong one, the one lifting others up, getting them through the hard times.

“What do you want from me?”he asked, voice dropping low.

“Your priority list.What needs to be fixed first, and so on.”

“The bathroom.”

“And then?”

“The kitchen.”

She nodded.“How about I follow you?We can start with your bathroom or the kitchen.Your call.”

“Let’s start with the kitchen since it’s the first room up.”

“Sounds good.”She dug into her purse and pulled out a tape measure.“Lead the way.”

*

Josie wasn’t asconfident as she sounded.If anything, she was struggling not to be intimidated.She could feel Bear’s tension.His frustration radiated off him in waves and every now and then there was a crack in his voice, a break that burrowed into her heart, taking up space.

He’d been through hell.She knew that.He was still going through hell, and she couldn’t fix everything, but she could at least give him a space where he could be more comfortable and function without help.Independence was huge, especially for men like Bear.

Following him down the hall was deliberate, too.She wanted to see how he moved through his home, how he navigated the halls and spaces with his wheelchair.Wheelchairs weren’t the same either.Some were wider, some set taller, some more manual.Some were electric, and she needed to see how he moved it and how much mobility he had, and it was all that would determine the choices she made.

Bear rolled past her, hands pushing the rims on his chair tires in quick impatient bursts.He wore a thick silver ring on his right hand, and as he pushed forward the ring tapped against the titanium rims.His chair was very new, and high performance, which meant lightweight, and durable, forgiving should it be dropped or kicked or worse.

Her family had a van for her brother but there was no van here.The only vehicle here—besides her own—was the orange and white Bronco out front.

“Is that your truck outside?”she asked, trailing after Bear as he led the way down the wide paneled hallway into an enormous kitchen with a soaring ceiling, rustic beams, handmade custom cabinets, and gleaming marble counters with tiled backsplash.The hood over the professional grade stove was hammered copper.Burnished copper pots hung from a beam near the stove and the line of stools at the island were covered in soft, supple butterscotch leather.

“Yes,” he answered, coming to a stop on the far side of the kitchen.“Probably not the most practical vehicle, but it’s been mine forever.”

His right hand turned his chair around, facing her in front of the kitchen sink.The huge island stood between them; the island far too tall with him confined to a chair.There was no area for him to prep, nothing at the island that would allow him to roll under.Even washing dishes would require him to turn sideways and reach awkwardly into the deep sink.

“I like the colors,” she said.“It’s very seventies, and retro is in.”

“Classic Broncos never went out.”

She couldn’t help smiling.He was so irritable and yet it was okay.She wasn’t hurt by his brusqueness.If anything, his brusqueness told her just how much he was struggling.

Now he simply sat and waited, watching her.

Josie suspected this was a test, but she understood it.Very little worked for him in this gorgeous kitchen.It wasn’t just that he couldn’t roll under the sink or roll under a prep space, but the kitchen itself dwarfed him.

She walked the opposite way around the island, passing the refrigerator, around to the eight-burner stove with the big griddle in the center.

Everything in the kitchen was tall and oversized.Everything had been built on a massive masculine level.Even though Bear had once stood over six feet, he wasn’t that man anymore.He had to operate from the height of one sitting, which meant counters needed to be lower, the sink and work stations needed to be open so he could roll under.

“I would replace your sink cabinets here,” she said gesturing to the doors beneath the deep farmhouse sink.“If we remove the cabinets and shift the pipes back, you could roll right under, giving you better access to the faucets and the sink itself.I’d also downsize this island, which would give you more room to navigate around the appliances.You could keep some of this counter space, but here at this end I’d eliminate the under cabinets and drop the island surface to make it a proper work-prep area for you.The scale in here is impressive, but unfortunately, it doesn’t suit your needs now.”

She crossed back to the refrigerator and opened it, pleased to see that the refrigerator had adjustable shelves and drawers.The freezer also had flexible space.So, the fridge wouldn’t need to be replaced.Just changing the island size would create more space for Bear to cook at the stove.He needed to be able to roll backward to open the oven doors, and needed space to pivot, shifting hot pans from one area of the stove to another.

But still, it was a tall stove.For his needs something smaller would be better.

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