Heart of a Soldier by Belle Calhoune

Author:Belle Calhoune
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

I lost the use of my legs, just like you did.

The words slammed into her with the force of an explosion. She grappled with Dylan’s words, immediately assuming she’d misheard him.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“My neck was broken as a result of the explosion. The force of the blast threw me from the Humvee. The doctors didn’t think I would ever walk again. They told me as much when I woke up from a medically induced coma.”

Broken neck. Legs. Coma. The details were whizzing around her like hummingbirds. But she couldn’t seem to get past the shock induced by Dylan’s announcement. Dylan had been paralyzed?

“How long? How long were you—?” She stumbled over the words, still reeling from his admission. So much of Dylan was reflected in his physicality. Being a soldier. His work around the ranch. Riding horses. For the life of her she couldn’t imagine strong, powerful Dylan paralyzed.

“I couldn’t walk for two months. Once the swelling on my spinal cord went down, I began doing physical therapy.” Just reliving his experience seemed to have a drastic effect on Dylan. His complexion was ashen. Tight lines were drawn around his mouth and eyes. A look of stark terror flashed in his eyes.

“To be honest, the pain was excruciating. Fear was my biggest motivator. The thought of never walking again—” He stopped midsentence, appearing worried that he might have put his foot in his mouth again.

“It’s okay to say it. You’re being honest. For a while after the accident, I had this recurring dream where I regained the use of my legs.” She let out a shaky laugh. “I grew to hate that dream, because as good as it felt while it was happening, there was a world of disappointment when I woke up and realized it wasn’t true.”

Silence stretched out between them. She was still grappling with this new information about Dylan. Her mind was working overtime trying to sort it all out when something clicked into place. Finding out the specifics of his injuries explained so much about Dylan and the way he viewed her.

She tilted her head toward him, eager to see his reaction to her question. “When you look at me, there’s something else you see, isn’t there?”

His brows shot up. “Something else? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“I couldn’t put my finger on it until this very moment, but I get it now. Every time you look at me it’s as if you’re reminded of your darkest hour, your worst fear. My being in a wheelchair really brings it all back for you, doesn’t it? I’m the living, breathing embodiment of your nightmare, aren’t I?”

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She could handle this, no matter what he had to say, no matter how badly it crushed her. It hurt so deeply to know that the very sight of her caused pain to Dylan. Because she cared for him. Deeply. And the sight of him did the very opposite to her.

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