Page 42 of Bear's Heart

Josie left ClydePark just before nine.Summer in Montana meant lovely long, light-filled days, and it was still light as she drove home, the roads relatively empty.But even then, she drove carefully, paying attention to the other drivers when they approached, but before long she was turning off Highway 89 for Marietta.A few blocks later she was parking in Bear’s driveway and letting herself into Bear’s house.The house smelled of paint, floor stain, and polish, and Josie cracked open the windows to let in some fresh air.

She’d spent much of the day painting the living room, and she examined the chocolate-colored walls, wondering what Bear would think.She liked them, and once the furniture arrived next week, she thought he’d like them, too.

This afternoon while the paint dried, she finished installing an accent wall in her little bedroom.Now that she knew Bear owned the house, she wasn’t afraid of investing a little capital and elbow grease into turning the bland house into something more welcoming.The exterior was still rather hopeless, but that could come later, after Bear had moved in, and if the young family touring his house tomorrow wanted it, she knew he hoped to move to Marietta by the end of next week.

She didn’t blame him.His Clyde Park house, so stunning and luxurious, hadn’t been designed with a wheelchair in mind, forcing him to live in a corner of the enormous living room, and his bedroom—the former trophy room.

She still hadn’t mustered up the courage to ask where all the trophies and awards had gone.

When she had asked him why he didn’t go outside and enjoy his front porch more, reminding him that it would be a great place for dinner or his morning coffee, he’d answered in that dry tone of his that he hadn’t yet mastered the art of rolling with plates on his knees, or a hot drink between his thighs when there was a threshold, and the front door had a significant threshold.

She, who understood the challenges of wheelchairs better than most, had forgotten this.

Josie suddenly pressed a fist to her chest, just above her heart, pressing back against the ache she felt.She felt oh, so many things, and it was scary caring this much.Scary wanting someone that had different needs than hers, that would never know the spontaneity so many took for granted.

Bear had to think for his body, had to create habits and patterns, learning to be aware for a body that couldn’t signal pain or pressure, whether it was on his butt, his calves, or his bladder.

But he was also so much more than a man in a chair.He was larger than life and made her believe in the human spirit, and the resilience of man, and tonight, Bear had said all the things she believed—that there was more to life than just making money, and more to being alive than getting ahead.There was helping others, extending a hand to those who needed it.She believed in improving things for those she met.She wanted to positively impact the world around her.Maybe she was a hopeless idealist, but that was okay.It helped balance those who were hopelessly negative… and the world had plenty of those.

*

Bear did alast set of curls in the garage on his workout bench, focused on the muscle contraction and the burn.He was getting stronger, and he liked that he was gaining size.Perhaps, once he moved to Marietta, he’d join a gym.They’d had far more equipment than the bar, bench and dumbbells he kept here.

The move to Marietta was happening soon.It was just a few days now.He hadn’t been to the house in days as Josie had forbidden him to visit until she had everything set up.She claimed she needed to take some photos for her project and needed to do that without his stuff cluttering it up, but he suspected it was more than that.He suspected she was doing her thing—decorating, fluffing duvets, and filling the living room couch with pillows no one needed.

The idea of her fluffing duvets and plumping pillows made him smile.He was looking forward to living with her, seeing her daily, even if it was just in coming and going.Fortunately, they’d be working together on the Farrell Building, which would officially be his on Monday, and the permits had been fast tracked by city hall, allowing them to begin construction the first of August.

It was all coming together.Life was good.Better than he’d expected or hoped.

Bear finished his workout in the garage and returned to the house to shower and dress before heading to dinner in Marietta with Josie, Rye, and Ansley.Rye had booked reservations at the elegant steak house on Main Street to celebrate the Farrell Building closing on Monday.Bear had no intention of letting Rye pay for the dinner, but he definitely felt celebratory and was pleased that Rye recognized that this was a special occasion.

He’d just eased his jeans on and was starting to button up his western dress shirt when the doorbell rang.Was it the doorbell?He never had visitors and he couldn’t imagine who was at his door at five o’clock on a Wednesday.

But there it was again, the doorbell, and it rang several times, an insistent peel that was impossible to ignore.

Bear rolled out of his room and down the hall to the front door.He was stunned when he opened it, looking up into a very familiar face, the face of someone he’d once loved.“Savannah, what are you doing here?”

She pushed a heavy wave of blonde hair back from her face.Shadows circled beneath her brown eyes.“I brought you Mick.”She turned to her dusty compact SUV and whistled.The dog pushed his head out of the half open driver’s window.“See?”

“I told you I’d make arrangements to have him picked up.”

“I waited for you to reach out, but you didn’t—”

“It’s only been a week.”

“Almost two weeks,” she corrected, “and you know me, I’m not good at waiting for things to happen.”

So very true, he thought.“You should have texted, reminded me.There was no need to drive all the way here.”

“I know, but I had to do something.I couldn’t just sit in that apartment and wait for Noah to walk in the door.He’s not coming back.”

Her words were like a punch to his gut.He exhaled hard, struggling to catch his breath.

“No,” Bear managed after a moment, the grief rising up, the injustice of it all as overwhelming on the day he learned his friend was gone.“He’s not.”

“And so, I’m here.”

Bear ground his jaw tight, conflicted, angry, heartbroken.And yet, also relieved to see Noah’s Mick looking healthy, the dog’s black and white head hanging out of the car, his tongue lolling.

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