Page 112 of Sloane

“You’re not running yet?” he quipped.

I bit back a grimace as I took more steps and nodded toward my PTA.

“Judy says I should be by next week.”

He nodded. “Maybe Pacific air will help.”

My head felt like it was on a swivel when I turned to look at him. I knew he’d been talking to Missy, but he and I hadn’t discussed anything further about me moving back.

He gestured to the man who was with him. The guy was wearing jeans but gave off the impression he’d be more comfortable in a custom-made suit. The watch on his wrist seemed to lend credence to my observation as it probably cost more than my Jeep.

“I’d like you to meet Grace’s brother-in-law, Travis Sterling. He’s on the board of the Wounded Warrior Project.”

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“So, there are only two other guys and a PTA living there?”

Travis nodded.

“And we all have our own rooms?”

“Well, Ashley, the PTA, has her own separate quarters that are connected to the main house.”

My heartrate sped up.

The PTA’s name is Ashley? Could it be her?

Travis added, “She lives there with her daughter.”

My face must have fallen because he quickly inserted, “It’s a pretty laid-back house. The other guys enjoy having a little one around.”

“I’m sure that will be fine,” I said with a smile.

But would it be? Would having a kid around be salt in my wounds? Another reminder of things I’d never have?

I continued, “It’s really generous of you to offer your beach house, Mr. Sterling.”

Travis looked me straight in the eye without even the slightest flinch—I liked that about him. “Please call me Travis. And, of course. It’s my honor.”

Ever since my friend Luke had moved into his wife’s beach house, I’d wanted to live on the ocean. But I hated feeling like a charity case.

“I get that you’re a big supporter of Wounded Warriors, but letting someone stay in your house?”

“It’s my beach house,” Travis corrected. “And with my family’s schedule, we hardly ever use it.”

I still looked at the man cynically, so he continued.

“Look, I didn’t serve in the military, but my friend did, and he lost his life. That’s weighed heavily on me for almost thirty years, so I do what I can to honor his memory. You don’t have to stay there—it won’t hurt my feelings if you choose not to. But it’s available now and it’s retrofitted so you can move around easily. There’s plenty of room for everyone to have their own space.” He paused and grinned. “And the view’s not too shabby, either.”

I bet it wasn’t.

“Home healthcare would be a good fit—” Missy started, but I interrupted.

“I don’t need someone with me around the clock.”

“I think you do, at least in the beginning,” Dr. Noland replied. “It’s the only way I’d be comfortable signing your discharge papers.”

Missy chimed in, “Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until you’re completely mobile and can find a home or apartment that’s been adapted for someone with a disability.”

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