Free His Golden Heart by Marcia King-Gamble Page B

life. He would prove them wrong. He was determined.
    “How are you doing back there?” his dad asked, shoving the van in gear.
    Beau grunted something unintelligible, continuing to scan the crowd on the front steps. Where was Shayna? He’d hoped she’d be there.
    As Ed steered the van out of the driveway, Beau acknowledged he would miss many of the staff—Immaculata, whom he’d heaped abuse on, Shayna, who’d abused him, pushing him past his limits, forcing him to do things he didn’t think he’d ever do again. He’d see her again in a couple of days. He’d be back for outpatient therapy. Meanwhile, he’d send Immaculata and Shayna flowers. They deserved them for putting up with his foul temper. It was the right thing to do. Saying thank you had never been easy for him.
    Beau fingered the partially read book on his lap. Maybe he could finish Turning Hurts Into Halos in two days. That way he would have something to discuss with Shayna the next time he saw her. Reading would keep him occupied.
    Ed parked the van in the driveway and announced, “You’re home, son.”
    Towanda, Beau’s housekeeper, wore an earsplitting grin that was forced, no doubt, but made him feel as if he were on a movie set, starring in a bizarre comedy. Here he sat waiting for his cue to go on. What role did he play? Home owner? Disabled hero? He didn’t know.
    His dad opened up the van doors and began unloading the luggage. He secured a ramp so that Beau could wheel himself down.
    “Ready, Beau? Do you need help?” he asked.
    “I can handle it,” he answered, gruffly. He would never be ready for this. With some difficulty, and a last-minute need for assistance, Beau made it safely to the ground.
    Tears ran down Towanda’s cheeks when she greeted him. “Hello, Beau.”
    What did she have to cry about? It was he that had been hurt. He that ached inwardly and might never have legs that functioned again.
    His mom went to Towanda’s side, embracing her, speaking with her softly, probably coaching her to put on a bright face. He might be disabled, but he was alive and he was the same person though inwardly scarred.
    Little did his mom know how he looked at the world now. It was an effort to smile and stay positive. When he’d built Hill Of Dreams he’d wanted to turn lives around, to show the poor and disadvantaged that there was hope. If he could be somebody, so could they. How would he cope now that skiing wasn’t a part of that life?
    Beau squeezed his eyes shut as the memories threatened to take over. He’d been healthy, happy, alive, and loving life. One visit to Salt Lake City, Utah, had changed all that. He’d been so certain he would return home a winner. The money gained from endorsements he planned on pumping back into the recreation center, giving people opportunities they would never have had. He’d employ experts to teach skills. Skills like operating a computer.
    Instead, he’d ended up in a Denver hospital, his body and psyche broken. Later he’d been transferred to the rehab center and worked with a team of medical professionals who’d tried to put him back together again.
    It could be worse. He could be like poor Earl. Yet the quadriplegic’s eyes still held a twinkle and he had no reason to be hopeful.
    Beau wheeled himself up another makeshift ramp giving him access to his front door. He sat in the vestibule trying to get his bearings. His parents flanked him. Towanda still sobbed though his mom tried her best to shush her.
    Ed laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’ll take a bit of getting used to, son,” he said, his voice rough with holding in his emotions.
    It was all so familiar, yet surreal. Beau felt as if he were in the twilight zone. Nothing in his life would ever be the same again. Not his home. Not his friends. Nothing. He couldn’t even begin to think how he would put the pieces back together again and achieve some sense of normalcy. Would he ever find the type of woman who would