Heart of a Soldier. Belle Calhoune

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СКАЧАТЬ Dylan was her responsibility. She looked up at him, refusing to lose her courage and look away from his probing gaze.

      Before losing her nerve, she dived right in. “You’re right. She’s not Holly, Dylan. I am.”

       Chapter Three

      “Holly?” His question bristled in the air like a live grenade. The air around them buzzed with electricity.

      “Yes. It’s me, Dylan.” She met his gaze head on, her blue eyes full of intensity.

      A hundred different thoughts were swirling through his mind. His first reaction was a strong sense of recognition. Of course this was Holly. It all made sense now, and even though he’d been thrown off by the wheelchair, there was something he’d instantly recognized in her essence.

      His second reaction was sorrow. His soul shattered for Holly. She couldn’t walk? The same woman he’d been corresponding with for more than a solid year was in a wheelchair. Hadn’t she written him about being an accomplished rider? About wanting a house full of kids one day? What had happened to her? Had this all been a big scam? Thoughts were whizzing through his brain until he felt himself becoming dizzy.

      Confusion covered him like a shroud. His mind went totally blank. Suddenly, he was stumbling around in the darkness without a way out.

      “Why?” His voice came out raspy and uneven. He shoved his fingers through his hair as myriad emotions flitted through him. “Why didn’t you tell me? What is this all about?” The tone of his voice sounded sharp and raised, but he was well past caring about that. It hurt so badly that Holly had tried to trick him. The chocolate Labrador retriever began growling low in his throat, the hairs on his back raised. The dog sat down in front of Holly, acting as a protector.

      “Shush, Bingo. Quiet down,” Holly said in a firm voice as she patted the top of his head.

      Cassidy cleared her throat and looked over at Holly, her eyes wide with concern. “Holly. What do you want me to do? Should I stay?”

      Holly met Cassidy’s gaze. She gave her best friend a tentative smile and shook her head. “Go back to the gallery, Cass. I’m sorry I involved you in this.”

      Cassidy glanced back and forth between them, hesitating for a moment before she headed for the door. She pulled it open and cast a lingering glance over her shoulder at the two of them. The look in her eyes warned him to go easy on Holly. The sound of the door clicking closed behind her rang out in the stillness of the foyer.

      The silence that lingered in Cassidy’s wake was painful. Considering written communication between them had always felt effortless, it was an odd sensation.

      “I’m sorry, Dylan. Please don’t blame Cassidy for pretending to be me. It was all my idea. And it’s not something I’m proud of by any means.”

      “Then why’d you do it?” he asked, needing to know what this ruse was all about.

      “When I got your letter today, I panicked,” she admitted. She gestured toward her legs. “Not telling you about my being paralyzed was cowardly. I should have told you in the very beginning, but as time went by, it became harder and harder.” She hung her head. “I should never have kept secrets from you, Dylan. It was wrong of me.”

      “When? How?” He was fumbling with his words. There was so much he wanted to say, to ask, but he still felt out of sorts. He was still reeling from the news. The shock reverberated down to his very core.

      “I was in a car accident when I was eighteen, right after I graduated from high school. My friends and I were playing a reckless-driving game, and I didn’t have my seat belt on. The roads were slick that night, and we weren’t being responsible. Cassidy lost control and hit a stone wall. I was thrown from the car.” Holly’s shoulders sagged. “As a result, I lost the use of my legs.”

      His mouth felt as dry as sandpaper. He had to ask the question, couldn’t deal with not knowing. Already it was nagging at him relentlessly.

      “Permanently?” His voice sounded like a croak.

      “Yes. My spinal cord was partially severed. Even though I still have some sensation, I won’t ever walk again. Not in this lifetime.”

      The words slammed into him with the force of a tidal wave. The news left him feeling unsteady on his feet. It felt like a kick in the gut. He felt so selfish for thinking it, but there it was, settled firmly around his heart. Why hadn’t she told him? His hands were trembling like a leaf. He felt such incredible disappointment in her decision to withhold something so important from him. As a person who’d been caught in a web of lies ever since he was born, he was a big believer in the truth. And Holly had seemed so open and forthright in her letters. Had he been mistaken? Everything he’d dreamed of building with Holly had crashed and burned in a single instant. And he felt nauseous. Sick with loss and grief and dashed hopes. And he also felt devastated for her. Sweet, loyal Holly, who’d written to him over weeks and months without fail. She’d sent him care packages filled with treats and books and stuffed animals. Holly had kept him in her prayers, and in return, he’d asked God to keep her out of harm’s way. Wonderful, brave Holly, who’d no doubt been through so much pain and tragedy in her young life. Yet in her letters she’d always projected such positivity, like a strong ray of sunshine beaming down on him in a war-torn, unstable land.

      Still, it didn’t sit well with him that she hadn’t come clean to him. It made him question every single thing he knew about her. He’d traveled all this way to meet her, all in the hopes of starting a life with her. In his mind, he’d begun to think of her in a forever type of way. The ring, the white picket fence, the kids, promises of forever. Once again, he’d been a prize fool. Counting chickens, his mother called it, and she’d been warning him against doing so ever since he was knee high to a grasshopper.

      And there was something else. Holly being in a wheelchair brought him back to a place and time where he himself had been disabled. A roadside bomb in Afghanistan had blown the Humvee he was driving to smithereens. Two soldiers in his unit had been killed, with another losing his sight. The injuries he’d sustained due to the IED had been life threatening. In the beginning, he’d been told he might never walk again. But, over weeks and months he’d crawled his way out of the dark, black hole and gotten his life back. And to prove a point, he’d volunteered for another tour, just to show he hadn’t been beaten. He was still standing.

      “I’m sorry you came all the way here only to be disappointed.”

      Holly’s melodic voice dragged him out of the past, so that his feet were solidly planted in the here and now. And even though he wanted to run from this situation, he had no choice but to face it. “No, it’s not about that. It’s just—” Just what? How could he explain it to Holly without hurting her or making her feel more ashamed of the information she’d withheld? He needed to be sensitive to her feelings, but at the same time, he couldn’t sugarcoat things. He had to be honest with himself as well as Holly. So far, things were not playing out as he’d imagined.

      “I suppose you had a preconceived notion about me, right? Cute. Blond. Blue-eyed. Standing on two feet.” She breathed out a tiny huff of air. “Wheelchairs don’t exactly come to mind when you’re painting a picture in your head of someone, do they?”

      He let out a ragged sigh, then raked his fingers through his military cut. “I don’t know what to say, what to think.” He rocked back on his boots, then looked away from her intense СКАЧАТЬ