Bless His Heart

by Jessica L. Elliott

  “More than I should have. This was amazing, thanks.”

  “It’s not over yet,” Greyson said with a smile. “I need to do something to make up for being such a heel earlier.”

  Hope snorted. “A heel? I’m guessing you watch a lot of classic movies, don’t you?”

  He grinned at her, causing a spike in her temperature. “Guilty as charged. Come on, let’s go see what the city has to offer in way of apology gifts.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I really don’t need an apology gift, Greyson. Even Prince Charming goofs sometimes.”

  Greyson lifted an eyebrow. “So, I’m Prince Charming now?”

  Hope blushed. “We’ll have to see about that one.”

  He chuckled as he tucked her hand on his arm. “Very well, dear princess.”

  Chapter Eight

  Hope couldn’t help admiring the charm bracelet Greyson had gotten her during their date as she walked into work the next morning. Despite her arguments that it wasn’t necessary, and he really shouldn’t, Greyson hadn’t taken no for an answer. “Look at it. Horseshoes, saddles, little horses, hearts, lassos. Hope, it’s you in a bracelet.” He’d even gone a step further and gotten an engraved charm added with her name. Then on the way home, he’d listened to Hope’s favorite country station and grudgingly admitted that maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

  She smiled to herself as she walked to the reception area where Dizzy was busily entering the schedule for the day. “I know that look,” Dizzy said with a grin. “Someone’s in love.”

  “I am not in love,” Hope retorted. “In serious like, probably. Maybe even a little infatuated, but definitely not in love yet.”

  Dizzy laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  Davis entered the room before Hope could respond. “There’s our little Hope,” he said. “Have an enjoyable evening?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” she replied, sharing a grin with Dizzy.

  “Just you and the mutt, right?” Davis asked.

  Hope looked at him, grateful for the opportunity to crush his ego. “Not this time. I had a date last night.”

  Davis gaped at her. “A date?”

  “Yes, Davis, it’s when two people who like each other go out and do fun things together,” Dizzy retorted with a smirk. “Ever had one?”

  He sputtered and said, “But you’ve always told me you were too busy to go out,”

  “Well, I happened to have time, and Greyson made a good offer,” Hope replied. “Besides, you might have better luck getting a girl to go out with you if you aren’t constantly criticizing her.”

  “I don’t criticize you.”

  “‘Little’ Hope?” she asked, dropping the somewhat teasing tone from her voice. “I’m not that much shorter than you, Davis.”

  “It was meant to be endearing.”

  Hope snorted. “It’s patronizing, and I think you’re smart enough to know the difference. Then there are your obnoxious comments on my eating habits which are borderline harassment.”

  Davis gave her a wounded look. “I’m only trying to help you make healthier decisions. After all, you don’t want...”

  “Chunky thighs? Big hips? A muffintop?” Hope filled in, months of pent-up frustration making their way to the surface. “Davis, my own mother doesn’t comment on my shape, and do you know why? Because my mother recognizes that I’m already healthy. You’re just a coworker. That gives you absolutely zero right to talk about my eating habits, weight, which by the way is perfectly normal, or any of the rest of it. So, yes, I’ve always said no and that I was too busy because I am. I’m too busy to deal with someone who wants to spend their life critiquing my choices without giving serious reflection to their own.”

  Silence took over the room until Dizzy abruptly burst into gales of laughter and applause. “Bravo, darlin’,” she said as Davis disappeared into the backroom, his face scarlet. “Oh, man!” She wiped tears from her eyes. “I’ve been waiting ages for you to give him the what-for.”

  Hope blushed. “I was probably a little harsher than I needed to be.”

  “No, you put him in his place, and it’s about stinkin’ time,” Dizzy retorted. “Whew, just wait until Dr. Hanson hears about this.”

  Dread pushed Hope’s heart to her shoes. “Oh, please, don’t...”

  “Don’t what? Tell her that you’ve finally taken a stand for yourself?” Dizzy asked. “Hope, she and I have both been waiting for you to stand up to him. That man has done nothing but bother you. Dr. Hanson has brought it up to him a fair number of times, but we both knew it wouldn’t make a difference until you said something.”

  Hope looked at the floor. “I guess you’re right. I should have said something a while ago. But I was so afraid of what might be said, or what Dr. Hanson might think...”

  “Hon,” Dizzy said gently, “Dr. Hanson will always have your back. And so will I.”

  “Thanks, Dizzy.”

  “Now, go get the operating rooms ready. Lots of spays and neuters on the schedule today.”

  GREYSON WATCHED AS Carl Rather and his team replaced the cracked window in Georgie’s upper guest room. When he’d first started watching, it was with the hawk-like observation of someone expecting to be robbed. He’d heard horror stories from friends of hiring people to do repairs, only to discover expensive items missing from the room later or a poorly finished job. But the longer he stood there, the less he worried. Carl had greeted him with professionalism as he came in, and kept his team focused on the job at hand.

  When they took a break for lunch, everyone left their tools and dusted off before leaving. Carl stopped at the doorway Greyson was watching from. “We’ll be gone for about a half-hour, then we’ll be back. I think the rest of the installation should only take another hour or so. I noticed there was a bit of water damage on the sill. Do you want an estimate on that?”

  “Yes, please. Thanks so much.”

  Carl nodded and moved out the door. “Come on guys, Sharon’s not going to hold lunch for us.”

  Greyson took a quick sweep of the room. Nothing out of place, no damage, and it was clear Carl was taking the time to do everything just right. Greyson walked down the stairs to the parlor where his grandmother sat crocheting a blanket. “Hey, Gram.”

  “Hay is for horses,” she muttered, pulling at the row of stitches she’d been working on. “I swear, I can’t count anymore.”

  Chuckling, Greyson said, “How about you and I go get some lunch. What’s your favorite place in town?”

  She glanced up at him. “Really?”

  “Yeah, we’ve actually finished up most of the leftovers, and honestly I don’t think I could force myself to eat one more bite of that casserole from last night.”

  Georgie chuckled. “It was pretty awful, wasn’t it? Poor Dizzy is a sweetheart, but not much of a cook. Well, why don’t we go to the Wagon Wheel? Great home cooking there. And then we can go up to Healing Hoofbeats for my next session.”

  “Oh, Gram, we really shouldn’t leave until after Carl finishes the window installation. We’ll still get there in plenty of time for your session, but we don’t want to just leave the house open.”

  “You don’t want to,” Georgie corrected. “But I suppose you’re right.”

  A FEW HOURS LATER HOPE led Georgie around the paddock. Greyson walked next to her, asking questions about the therapy and what all she did. Hope explained the specialty saddles used for children and adults suffering from various degrees of paralysis. “Let me tell you what, watching those kids’ faces light up as they ride just makes my heart glow.”

  “Does riding help them gain any muscle use?”

  Hope shook her head. “Most often, no, but it allows them to do something normal. With the saddles we use, they can ride around just as well as a child without paralysis. Some of these kids enjoy the riding so much that they go on to get special training so they can ride completely independently. There’s a girl right
now training for the Special Olympics with a personal trainer. It’s incredible the things you can do with a dream and a little determination.”

  “That is incredible,” Greyson agreed. “What about what you’re doing with Gram?”

  “Well, right now I do most of the leading. As she gains strength, she’ll be given more control of the horse. The exercises do help somewhat in regaining mobility and muscle function, but primarily our goal is to build a person’s spirit. We’ve found that people who have suffered the effects of paralysis, stroke, and amputation often need a place where they can feel normal. Our horses are all exceptionally gentle and well-trained. They’re patient with their riders. And we’ve trained them with multiple cues. A person who can’t give leg commands can use voice commands along with the reins. Same goes for any of the others. Dumpling here was one of the first therapy horses at Healing Hearts. He works with up to fifteen people a week.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot.”

  “It seems like it,” Hope admitted. “But that’s only three people a day. Saturday and Sunday, this guy and all the horses get to rest.”

  “That’s wise,” Georgie said. “Even animals need a break sometimes.”

  “Absolutely,” Hope replied. “Our mission is to bring people physical, mental, and spiritual healing through time spent with our horses. But it’s also to give our horses a happy home where they feel wanted, cherished, and useful.”

  “I imagine not every horse would be a good candidate for horse therapy,” Greyson said.

  Hope shook her head. “No, there are several horses who are not. These horses go through a rigorous training process. They must be taught all the command types and to expect differing combinations of them. They also have to be steady. Skittish animals aren’t going to be a good fit because they could get spooked by the equipment a person might come with, or by something passing through the paddock. Every summer we have an auction where we sell horses who are retiring from therapy and any who didn’t pass the training process. We always make sure, to the best we can, that our animals go to loving homes.”

  “So, if Dumpling was among the first, I imagine he’ll be retiring soon,” Gram said, patting the horse’s neck.

  Nodding, Hope said, “He’s scheduled to retire at the end of this year. He’s been a great therapy horse, but he’s had some minor health concerns the last year or so. The owners don’t want to have him work when he’s uncomfortable.”

  “Will he be sold during the auction then?”

  “No,” Hope replied, shaking her head. “He’s going to stay here and live out the rest of his days in the pasture and help train new horses.” She patted the horse’s neck. “He’s pretty special, and he was the owner’s first horse. She’s not going to say goodbye to him until he crosses the rainbow bridge.”

  “The rainbow bridge?” Greyson asked.

  Hope’s face turned serious as she said, “It’s how a lot of us in the animal community refer to an animal passing on.”

  “I do wonder, Hope,” Georgie asked from her perch in the saddle, “why did the owners start Healing Hoofbeats?”

  “I wondered that myself,” Greyson said.

  Hope smiled. “Mrs. Timmons, who co-owns this with her husband, was in a car accident as a teenager. She was paralyzed from the waist down. Despite the doctors of the time telling her she’d never ride again, she wouldn’t give it up. After graduating high school, she bought Dumpling, and hired Michael Timmons as a trainer to help her get back in the saddle. They fell in love, got married, and together they started this little ranch. It’s been going strong for almost fifteen years.”

  “So Dumpling’s a pretty old guy.”

  “Nineteen in March,” Hope said. “Not terribly old, but certainly not young by horse standards.”

  “Just like me,” Georgie said with a smile.

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Greyson whispered in Hope’s ear.

  “What did he say?” Georgie asked as Hope giggled.

  “Nothing, Gram. Nothing at all.”

  Chapter Nine

  Greyson continued to see more of Hope over the next week and a half leading up to the Harvest Festival than he’d expected to. Between Georgie inviting her repeatedly for dinner, and bumping into her outside while he worked on reclaiming Georgie’s gardens from the weeds trying to take over, it seemed he couldn’t get away from her. And he found he didn’t want to. Hope would often stop by in her jeans and plaid jacket to help him with whichever projects he’d decided to tackle. She also knew how to impress a guy, bringing over cookies, cupcakes, or a homemade pie. As she worked with him planting spring bulbs, he said, “You know, I still feel terrible about the way I treated you that first day I was here.”

  She glanced up at him, a bead of sweat trickling down her face. “Don’t worry about it. You were reasonably upset.”

  “But I wasn’t. You’ve been nothing but kindness and generosity to Gram,” Greyson said. “Having you as her neighbor has been a huge blessing to her.”

  Hope grinned. “It goes both ways, Greyson. I can’t even count all the ways Miss Georgie has blessed my life. And that’s the last bulb,” she said with a smile.

  “Good. Why don’t we get cleaned up and I’ll take you over to the cafe for dinner?”

  She smirked. “Is it okay if I wear jeans and a tee-shirt?”

  “You could wear a bathrobe and I wouldn’t care today,” Greyson replied.

  Hope giggled. “That’s a very dangerous thing to say to me, I might take you up on it.”

  Greyson laughed. “Seriously though, meet me out here in twenty minutes.”

  “Make that thirty,” Hope countered. “A girl’s gotta take some time getting ready. We’re not exactly going fishin’.”

  “Who said anything about fishing?”

  “No, not fishing,” she said, over-enunciating the g. “Around here, we go fishin’, no g’s at the end.”

  “But the word is fishing.”

  Hope laughed. “It’s a Kansas thing. If a g can be dropped, it gets dropped. So it’s not fishing, it’s fishin’. And darlin’ and waitin’ and mornin’ and...”

  Greyson chuckled as he held his hands up. “All right, all right. No, we’re not going,” he paused, “fishin’.”

  “See, you’re gettin’ the hang of it,” Hope said with a grin. “Thirty minutes, and I’ll be ready for you.”

  Shaking his head as he clapped his hands on his sweats, Greyson stood up from his spot in the garden. He knew it was late in the season to be planting bulbs, and he really hoped they wouldn’t freeze. But if they were going to have any spring color, this was their last chance to get the bulbs in.

  “Enjoy your planting?” Georgie asked as Greyson came inside.

  “I did, thank you. A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

  “No, but gracious sakes, child, you’re a mess.” Georgie clucked her tongue while sweeping dirt off his collar. “You better go get washed up or you’re not sitting at my dinner table.”

  “Wasn’t planning to anyway. I’ve got a date with Hope.”

  “Oh?” Georgie asked, her eyes sparkling. “When did this happen?”

  “About two minutes ago,” Greyson replied.

  Georgie laughed. “Well, I guess I’ll just reheat some leftovers for myself and then settle in the parlor with a good book.”

  Greyson frowned, suddenly realizing he’d be leaving his grandmother alone. “Are you going to be okay? I can bring you with me.”

  She scoffed. “Don’t be absurd, Greyson. No one wants their grandmother with them on a date.”

  “I wouldn’t mind, Gram,” he said gently.

  Georgie smiled and patted his cheek. “I know, dearest. That’s why I’m telling you to go on without me. I think a good book is all the company I’ll need tonight. Now, go get washed up. You’re not fit to be seen at any table.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” He took the steps two at a time until he reached the landing. After taking a quick shower, he w
alked into his room and stared at his closet, settling on khaki slacks and a charcoal gray sweater. When he went downstairs, he stopped by the parlor and kissed Georgie’s cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “I won’t,” she replied.

  “Gram,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Georgie rolled her eyes. “I meant I wouldn’t need anything, dear. Go on and enjoy yourself.”

  Greyson smiled and left the house, seeing Hope waiting for him. She looked lovely in a tan suede jacket, camel turtleneck, and dark blue jeans, her blonde hair loose about her shoulders. “It’s not too terribly chilly out, would you mind walking?” he asked as they met between the two houses.

  Hope shrugged. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

  “Good, because between the ladies bringing Gram dinner, and you constantly bringing treats over, I’m going to get fat if we don’t.”

  She laughed. “If you’re that worried about it, you could always carry me. Get in some extra exercise.”

  Greyson grinned. “That’s not a bad idea.” Before Hope could argue he lifted her up piggyback style and jogged down the road a ways, her laughter tickling his ears and sending warm currents through him. Or maybe that was the blood pumping from the exertion. He didn’t know, and he really didn’t care. They reached a corner and he set Hope back on the ground. As he turned to look at her, the golden wash of sunset lit her face and hair. His heart skipped a beat.

  “You doing okay?” Hope asked.

  “Yeah, just saw an angel, that’s all.”

  She turned behind her. “Really?”

  Greyson took her hand and squeezed it. “Yep. A beautiful, blonde angel who looks an awful lot like you. In fact, I think it was you.”

  A blush stole over her features. “I think you better get something to eat,” she said with a teasing grin. “You’re starting to see things that aren’t there.”