Gracie laughed. “I think Uncle Jack’s mom has a crush on you, Red.”
“What?” Benny almost spit out his OJ. “That’s so gross, Mom. Eww. They’re, like, a thousand years old.”
Red turned from the stove and fried him with a look. “Not a day over nine hundred, Benny-bean. Now, Gracie…don’t you let anything steal that happiness you came downstairs with. Just…be careful.”
The warning—repeated for a second time—gave her pause. She wrapped her hands around her mug, trying to hold onto the warmth. What could he mean? What had put that worried look in Red Starling’s eyes?
And then it became crystal clear, just as her grandfather looked around the old house with a slightly…lost expression. Ofcourse. He knew if she got serious with Marshall, it could mean she and Benny would move out and leave him in this big house all alone.
That’s why he looked a little worried and doubtful, and understandably so.
She stood to refill her coffee and, as she passed, put a reassuring hand on his back. “Great breakfast, Red.” She patted him with love. “Don’t know where we’d be without you.”
He just gave her a sad smile and she made a mental note that whatever happened to her, she’d never abandon her dear, sweet grandfather.
The best thing about living alone, Elise had decided, was the freedom to talk to herself without anyone thinking she was crazy.
She leaned close to her bathroom mirror, applying the faintest shimmer of rose-gold eyeshadow and saying to her reflection, “You are calm, confident, and absolutelyfine.”
The mirror, of course, didn’t argue.
Her one-bedroom apartment—the ground-floor, wheelchair-accessible unit in the student housing building of Great Basin Veterinary Institute—was flooded with late-morning light.
She’d lived here nearly a year, long enough to create a space that reflected the joy of finally being an independent adult woman spreading her wings—or wheels—and experiencing life.
Family photos filled one wall. A shelf near her desk overflowed with succulents and orchids. The window ledge held a vase of bright fake daisies because daisies made her happy.
A fuzzy pink blanket was tossed over the bottom of the bed, and the faint scent of coffee and lavender floated through the air.
It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Her home, her world, her freedom. Yes, there were some grab bars, wide doorways, andlow kitchen counters, but to the untrained eye, this was a girlie-girl’s beautiful living space.
And she was the girlie-girl living in it.
With a smile, she added another coat of mascara, tilted her head, and gazed at the reflection. Her blond hair tumbled in waves around her face, her makeup on point from shadow to lips, and the creamy soft sweater she’d chosen to wear with jeans flattered her coloring. Jewelry jingled as she adjusted her earrings—colorful hoops shaped like tiny horseshoes.
She was ready.
And she was absolutely, one hundred percent certain that Wade Reynolds would see her and think…Yikes.She’s in a wheelchair.
Then that brief flicker of interest he’d shown when she was on horseback a few days ago—when he’d laughed at her jokes and looked her right in the eyes with an easy, confident grin—would vanish.
Elise Hale had conquered a lot of difficult challenges in her life and she’d faced her share of adversity. But she’d never—not once, not ever—attracted a man. At least not one who would be up to her excruciating standards, set by her one-in-a-million brother, Cam.
A man, Elise knew, would have no interest in a paraplegic, no matter how pretty she was, how effervescent and funny, or how great a vet she would be. Once Wade Reynolds, handsome Southern oncology vet with eyes so green they looked bedazzled, realized she was crippled, it would be all over.
He’d politely tour the campus, make friendly convo, and zip back to Park City with a “see ya around, Elise” on the way out.
She knew that, but did it stop her from letting fantasy-level hopes build with each minute that the clock ticked closer to his arrival? No, it did not. Because Elise was normal in every wayexcept for the severed nerve that said her legs would never move or feel anything.
And that justwasn’tnormal.
She capped her lip gloss, straightened, and rolled into the living room, reminding herself how far she’d come.
A year ago, she’d applied to GBVI on a lark, certain she wouldn’t get in.
She’d nearly had to bail on the final interview with the dean, but darling Nicole had brought her here and that sealed the deal.
Now, a year later, Elise was a thriving, happy, popular twenty-five-year-old. She took classes, had “patients” in the animal hospital, and had been given the opportunity to manage the Live Nativity project.
