Free Awakened in August (Spring River Valley Book 8) by Clarice Wynter Page B

therapeutic reasons. This is a group home. For people with traumatic brain injuries.”
    Lydia’s breath caught, and she stared at Riley. “You never…”
    “I don’t tell many people. Come on. Landon will be thrilled to meet you.” He held out his hand, and she took it, shaken suddenly by this new and unexpected insight into Riley’s life. He tugged her along toward the main house, and she followed obediently, taking in the details of the place.
    On the outside, the house looked like an old Victorian that had been lovingly restored. Inside the front foyer, the atmosphere was a little more professional, with a front desk, non-skid mats on the polished hardwood floors, safety railings, and a chair lift attached to the grand staircase that rose to a second level.
    A woman in a light blue polo shirt that read “Kattinger Farms,” greeted them when they stepped into the cool interior of the building. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla enveloped them, and the glow of light wood and bright new paint gave Lydia an immediate sense of home.
    “Hi, Riley, how are you?” The woman rose and hugged him as if they were old friends.
    “Good, Marla. This is Lydia. She’s a friend of mine I’d like to show around, if I could.”
    “Sure thing. I’ll get you your visitor passes. If you want to wait in the green room, I’ll tell Landon you’re here. He’s got equine therapy this afternoon.”
    “Sure. Thanks, Marla.”
    Speechless, Lydia followed Riley to a room off of the main foyer. Here, the walls were in fact a soothing mint green. A big green couch and overstuffed green chairs dominated what had probably once been the living room of the house. There was a flat screen television on one wall and a few bookcases sat opposite filled with what looked like hand-me-down novels, school books, and children’s books. A coffee table held current issues of popular magazines for both adults and children. Lydia’s heart contracted, and she sank to the couch cushion next to Riley. “How old is Landon?” she asked, fighting a sudden lump in her throat.
    “He’s twenty-five. He’s lived here for four years now and loves it. The staff is amazing, and he’s always busy. Hopefully we won’t have to wait too long. He doesn’t like to cut his time with the horses short.”
    “Can I ask what happened to him?”
    Riley nodded. His smile faded a little bit, and his voice took on a faint tinge of regret. “I was ten and Landon was six. We were helping my dad put up Christmas lights on the house and…” He paused and took a deep breath. Lydia put a hand on his arm and waited for him to continue. “We weren’t supposed to get up on the ladder. That was Dad’s job. We were just supposed to hand him the lights and help get everything untangled. You know how those Christmas lights are. It took us hours, and we were tired of it. There was a phone call—I think my grandfather had called…I don’t really remember, but anyway, Dad went in and Landon wanted to go up on the roof and start hanging the lights while he was inside. I told him we should wait, but he decided he was going up on the roof. He told me to hold the ladder steady, so I did. I should have ratted him out. I should have just run inside and told on him, but…”
    Lydia put her head on Riley’s shoulder. She wanted to give him strength, because she knew each word he was about to say would drain him. “It wasn’t your fault. You were ten.”
    “I know. I…thought it would be great to see Dad’s face when he came outside and the lights were up. Landon was brave…fearless, a lot more of a daredevil than I was. He was up the ladder and on the roof of the garage in five seconds flat. He walked across the roof dragging a string of lights and when he…um…when he knelt down to try to hook them onto the edge of the roof, he pitched forward.”
    “Oh, Riley.” Tears clouded Lydia’s eyes. She imagined the horror of a young boy watching his brother fall and being