“I do have a question about how to use the microfilm scanner,” Janette said. “If you can spare a few minutes.”
“Of course. I’ll grab a cup of coffee and meet you there in a few minutes,” Maddie promised, not mentioning the coffee wasn’t for her.
Janette looked relieved as the rest of the committee members scooped up their belongings and filed toward the computer room in the back of the library.
“It’s pretty chilly out there this morning,” Maddie mused out loud. “I thought the med van driver might appreciate a cup of coffee.” She filled a disposable cup and turned toward the door.
She could practically feel Aiden’s eyes follow her. But would he?
The driver waved at Maddie, and she hoped he was a flavored-coffee kind of guy. A group of men who met at the library once a month to play chess claimed that it smelled like potpourri and wouldn’t touch the stuff.
“Good morning!” Maddie raised the steaming cup. “We’ve got curbside delivery today. Pumpkin spice.”
“Mmm.” The skeptical look on the driver’s face belied the teasing sparkle in his eyes. “Does it pair well with a jelly doughnut?”
“In my experience, everything goes with jelly doughnuts.” Maddie grinned and handed him the coffee.
She heard the soft click of the door and dared a glance over her shoulder. Aiden had bypassed the handicap-accessible ramp—no surprise there—and was making his way slowly down the concrete steps.
One. Two. Three.
Maddie silently cheered Aiden on until he reached the sidewalk. And lurched past her without a word. Again.
The driver tossed back a swallow of coffee and looked Aiden over. “PT?”
“Yup.” Aiden bared his teeth in a smile. “That’s me.”
Maddie turned away, knowing it was the driver’s job to assist his passenger even if said passenger didn’t want—or appreciate—the assistance.
But at least she’d made sure that Aiden no longer had an audience.
“Thanks, Pixie.”
It took a moment for Maddie to realize Aiden was talking to her. But he had to be, considering the only other person within earshot happened to be the burly guy climbing into the driver’s seat of the van.
But...Pixie? Seriously? He’d already forgotten her name?
“It’s Maddie—”
Aiden’s smile—this time a genuine, no-holds-barred, steal-the-breath-from-a-girl’s-lungs smile—was the last thing Maddie saw before the door slid shut.
Making her wonder if he’d forgotten at all.
* * *
Aiden’s hand tightened on the handle of the crutch as he stared out the window of the sunroom.
Autumn was his favorite time of year. Crimson trees lined both sides of the bank like torches, the sapphire-blue river the base of the flames. For Aiden, it was like paddling through a fiery corridor. Even on sunny days, the breeze carried a bite that stirred his senses. Made him feel alive.
Rich Mason, Sunni’s husband and Aiden’s foster dad, had teased Aiden about having river water flowing through his veins instead of blood. But for a ten-year-old boy who’d grown up surrounded by concrete, the river had proved more fascinating than a playground.
On the water, Aiden could move at his own pace. There was no one telling him to take it easy, slow down or—his least favorite of the three—stop.
And now, sixteen years later, over the course of a day, he’d heard every single one.
Aiden’s simmering frustration had turned into a rolling boil when he got home from therapy and saw the envelope on the coffee table. A few days after he’d been released from the hospital, Aiden had called the sheriff’s department and requested a copy of the deputy’s report from the night he’d been injured.
Aiden had practically ripped the document in his haste to open it. He skimmed through it, hoping to see something—anything—that would support his claim that another vehicle had been involved.
No skid marks, the officer had noted on the bottom.
Aiden had wanted to throw back his head and howl. There weren’t any skid marks because the vehicle in the oncoming lane hadn’t braked. And Aiden hadn’t had time to, either. If he’d been a minute earlier or a minute later, things would have turned out differently.
Why hadn’t God intervened on Aiden’s behalf?
That question had continued to plague him since the night of the accident, slowly chiseling away at the foundation of what he’d thought was an unshakeable faith with the cold, relentless pull of an undertow.
Aiden tried to shore it up by reciting scripture he’d memorized and pulling up the lyrics from praise songs, but over the past few days, the doubts had slowly claimed more territory.
But his family worried enough about his injuries. Aiden wasn’t about to admit his trust in God had sustained damage in the accident, too.
The door swung open and Aiden pressed out a smile for his brothers as they strode into the room.
“Missing something?” Brendan held up Aiden’s cell phone. “I found this on the bench in the laundry room.”
That’s because Aiden had left it there. An abandoned cell phone equaled freedom from emails, text messages and happy-face emojis.
“Oops.” Aiden pointed at his head. “Concussion.”
He’d been kidding, but instead of making a smart comeback, guilt flashed in his oldest brother’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Brendan murmured.
So was Aiden. Sorry his brothers felt the need to tiptoe around him when they used to wrestle him to the ground. Sorry they had to shoulder Aiden’s share of the work around the place in addition to their own, while squeezing in time to complete the course for River Quest.
Liam’s plan to finish the cabin that he and Anna and the twins would call home after the couple exchanged their wedding vows on Christmas Eve had been delayed because of Aiden, too.
With a damaged knee, climbing the thirteen steps up to the garage apartment he shared with Liam would have been as impossible as scaling a mountain. And because all the bedrooms in Sunni’s house were upstairs, too, Liam, the brother with the mad design skills, had been charged with converting the sunroom overlooking the river into a bedroom before Aiden was released from the hospital.
His family assumed that seeing the river outside his window would comfort him. But like a kid with his nose pressed against the glass of the candy store window, all it did was give Aiden a perfect view of everything he couldn’t have.
“How did therapy go today?” Liam asked.
Teeth-gritting,
