Page 79 of A Beach House Beginning

Christa decided she wasn’t going to allow her weak mind to dwell on his muscles—or on how edgy and uncomfortable he had looked at first with Hope up on that horse or how he had relaxed until he was teasing and joking with her.

Sheespeciallywasn’t going to think about how delicious he smelled right now as they walked out of the arena and into the spring sunshine—or how long it had been since she’d been close enough to any gorgeous male to fully appreciate his pheromones.

She led the way to her vehicle, a small Jeep Liberty she was immensely grateful she had been able to pay off before she moved back to Sage Flats and cut her salary in half.

When they reached the SUV, she opened the door to the backseat and reached to help Hope transfer in, but Jace beat her to it.

“Just tell me how to get her inside. Do you lift her or does she do the work?”

Christa had to admit, she appreciated a man who didn’t mind asking for help. “Usually she can transfer on her own if you just hold her hands for stability and take some of her weight. Yes, that’s it. Perfect.”

He eased Hope into the backseat while Christa watched, not used to her position as observer in her daughter’s care.

She couldn’t help comparing the laborious process of settling her into a car now to those days before their world had changed, when Hope used to jump into the backseat after school, her long hair flying behind her. More often than not, she had her cell phone glued to her ear, already talking up a storm to the friends she had just left.

Oh, how Christa missed those days. Even when Hope had been at her angriest, surly about their move to Utah or caught up in the inevitable teenage dramas between her friends, she had been like a bright, vivid beacon, full of energy and life.

Hope had always been the center of every crowd. She had been funny and smart, with a world of possibilities beckoning her.

Oh, she hadn’t been thrilled when they moved from the hip and happening college town of Austin to some Utah backwater, leaving all her friends behind. But she had quickly gathered a new circle of friends and seemed to be adjusting to life in Sage Flats, to the freedom to ride her grandfather’s high-strung horses, to her new school.

Until the accident. Now that busy social butterfly seemed so frail and solitary. The steady stream of friends who had come to the hospital bearing flowers and cards and get-well posters had trickled over the last five months to a valiant few who continued to visit every week despite Hope’s garbled speech, short attention span and flagging energy level.

She had reached the limit of her endurance now, Christa realized. The minute she was settled on the backseat, she leaned her head back against the upholstery and closed her eyes.

“Tired,” she mumbled.

“I know. Just rest, sweetheart. We’ll be home in a moment.”

She closed the door and shook her head.

“She’s exhausted, poor thing,” she said to Jace, who stood watching. “I’m guessing she’ll be asleep before we pull out of the parking lot.”

“I hope today wasn’t too much for her.”

“It probably was. But she would definitely say the ride was worth a little fatigue.”

While she spoke, she started breaking down the wheelchair so it would fit into the cargo area of her vehicle, disconnecting the foot plates and the head support, then folding the rest down. He stepped forward to help her lift the heavy body of the chair inside.

“Sure seems like a lot of work. I’ve got a buddy who had a bull roll over him and broke his back a few years ago. He has a van with a ramp where he just rolls right into it in his wheelchair, without all this hassle. Can’t you get one of those?”

She pressed her lips together. Sure, if she had a spare fifty thousand dollars sitting around. Since she didn’t, she would make do with her paid-off Jeep Liberty and keep praying Hope wouldn’t need the wheelchair much longer.

“Someday, maybe,” she answered in a noncommittal tone. She set the brake on the chair so it wouldn’t roll around, then closed the hatch.

“Thank you again for helping with her today. I guess you could tell I was more than a little nervous. It helped to have someone experienced like you to lend a hand.”

“You’re welcome. It was...not what I expected.”

“Better or worse?”

He smiled and her insides quivered, until she forced herself to breathe. She sternly reminded herself she wasn’t interested in a man—and especially not a man like him.

“Just different,” he answered. “The kids are amazing. I wouldn’t have expected them all to be so...happy.”

She finally couldn’t resist asking the question burning through her. “So how did Hank con you into coming today?”

He blinked for half a second, then burst out laughing. “I guess that’s one way of putting it. Probably the most accurate. Hank Stevens is amazingly good at finding weakness and exploiting it six ways from Sunday. In my case, he happened to catch me at a low moment when I was...upset about something. He called in about a half dozen favors.”

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