Page 1 of Broken Dreams

Prologue

As she walked into her apartment her cell phone rang. Amber Monroe inwardly groaned. Was someone from the hospital calling already? Had something happened to one of her patients? Concern had her stopping midstride and fishing in her bag for her cell phone. When she saw her brother's name she answered in surprise.

“Adam? Is something wrong?”

Silence. Alarm skittered across her nerves.

“Mom? Dad?” She forced the questions through her tight throat.

“No, our parents are fine.” His reassuring words made her relax.

“What then? I just walked in from work.” She sighed. “It was a rough day.”

“It's Shane, Amber. He…there was a horrible accident—a plane crash in the mountains near Beijing and I'm so sorry. He didn't make it.”

Dazed she sank onto the nearest chair. Shane? Dead? This couldn't be happening. There had to be some mistake. Shane was too young, only thirty-three, he couldn't possibly be dead. She shook her head, wanting to scream in protest, but Adam’s heavy silence held her in check. She'd known Shane Reinhart her entire life, mostly because Shane was Adam’s best friend. For years, her parents treated Shane as if he were part of their family.

One day, she'd hoped to marry him, making Shane a member of the family for good.

“I'm sorry for you, too, Adam.” She forced herself to push beyond her own grief to consider what her brother was going through. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah.” He didn't sound convincing. “I still need to let Mom and Dad know.”

“I'll be right over.” No way was she letting Adam tell her parents alone.

“Thanks, Amber.” Her brother sounded old. Tired.

She set her phone on the table, then buried her face in her hands allowing the keening sorrow and tears to come.

Her relationship with Shane had only just grown beyond the friendship stage. But now he was gone.

Forever.

Chapter One

Four months later…

“Come on, Mr. Goetz, you're almost there.” Amber encouraged the older man who leaned heavily on his walker as he made his way slowly, painfully, down the hall to the community dining room at the Veteran’s hospital’s rehabilitation center.

“Bah, I ain’t almost there.” The stodgy old man scowled and set his walker down on the linoleum floor then shuffled his feet to catch up. “I don't know why you don't let me eat in my room.”

She couldn't help but smile. “Because I care too much about you to allow you to wallow in misery all alone, that's why. Look at the bright sunlight pouring through the windows. It's a beautiful day.”

One rubber foot of his walker stuck to the floor and he lost his balance, leaning heavily to his left side. His weak side, thanks to the broken hip he’d sustained. His rehab stay was to strengthen the weaker muscles in his left leg, making sure he could perform activities of daily living.

“It's all right. I have you.” She quickly tightened the muscles of her arm beneath his supporting his weight the best she could while hanging on to the walker to keep it from toppling over. After a few tense minutes, Mr. Goetz managed to get his left leg steadied beneath him and slowly shifted his weight so that it was equally distributed.

Still, she didn't loosen her grip on his arm or the walker. “Are you all right Mr. Goetz? I promise, I won't let you go until you’re feeling steady.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” The near collision with the floor eased some of his crustiness. “I can make it.”

“I know you can,” she assured him. “You’re getting stronger. And I'll be right here with you the entire way.”

The tangy scent of tomato and basil filled the air as they drew closer to the dining room. Another two steps and he managed to get into position to sit down at the table where three other men waited. Without any help, he eased into his seat.

“You did great, Mr. Goetz.” She moved his walker out of the way, but not out of his reach. She patted his arm. “I'm proud of you.”

“You’re a sweetheart.” Despite his earlier protests, his scowl eased into a smile. Being near his cronies had already brightened his spirits. Which was exactly why she’d pushed the issue of his coming to the dining room for his meals. “When are you going to marry me, Amber Monroe?”

---