Page 30 of Bear's Heart

Her feelings weren’t platonic.She was attracted to Bear and had begun to spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about kissing him and being kissed by him.He’d be a good kisser.She was sure of that.She lightly touched her fingertips to her lips, her upper one so sensitive that her belly clenched.

Bear had said he couldn’t have children, but did that mean he couldn’t have sex?Did it mean he wouldn’t enjoy making out or foreplay?

On one hand, it wasn’t any of her business, but on the other, she was curious.And hopeful.Hopeful that one day he might feel a little of what she felt for him.

Some people might not be comfortable with Bear’s paralysis, but it didn’t seem strange to her.Her brother had been born with a birth defect that changed his life.Her father, a tough, tough man, broke his back by falling off a roof.Both people were wonderful people.Both had physical challenges, but it didn’t change who they were.

Bear just felt like her person.Like hers.

Josie wished she could talk to someone about it, and thought briefly of her sister Hannah, but Hannah could be rather ruthless.She was practical to the extreme.Having had enough of poverty growing up, she was dating an older man—an unattractive older man—because he had money.

Hannah denied it.She said she loved him.But the rest of the family found it hard to believe.Hannah was stunning—could easily pass for a model—and so why would she be with an older, plump, balding man when she could probably have anyone?

No, Hannah wasn’t the one to talk to.Josie and Hannah were nothing alike.Hannah was pure ambition and Josie far too tenderhearted with an overwhelming need for justice.

Josie’s mom used to lecture her about being so sensitive.She shouldn’t be drawn to the heartbreaking stories, or feel compelled to do something for everyone, but Josie did.She always had.Even as a little girl, she’d wanted to help those in their community who needed more—more support, more kindness, more respect.

Growing up, she was always doing one fundraiser or another, collecting bottles and cans, volunteering, writing letters and making calls—even showing up at city hall to talk to whoever was in charge.

Josie had never felt self-conscious about any of it.Nor had it ever crossed her mind that she shouldn’t, not even when one of the city councilmen she’d had approached—a car dealer with a car lot not far from Calhoun Roofing—and said she was following up on the donation she’d written him a letter about.When Mr.Clark said he didn’t get a letter, she pulled another one from her notebook and handed it to him to read.

She watched him as he read her carefully printed letter, and then came to the end and looked up at her.“You’re a Calhoun.”

She nodded.

He chuckled, there really was no other word for it, and shook his head.“Shouldn’t you be doing this for your own family?Seems like your dad needs more help than anyone else in this town.”

Josie stood there, twelve-turning-thirteen and full of anger and disappointment.If he’d hoped to embarrass her, he’d failed.She felt embarrassed for him—and terribly disappointed.Disappointed that someone who was in a position of power, a person who could easily do something, would instead choose to make fun of her dad.It wasn’t hard to help.It wasn’t hard to give.He could have just donated a dollar.Five dollars.It wasn’t even the amount of money.It was his attitude.His air of superiority.And so, she stared him down, smiling just a little bit, smiling because he with his money and car dealership and position on the city council was not even half as good of a human being as her dad.

“You could have just said no,” she said, smiling a little bigger.“You could have said it wasn’t a good time for you to give.You didn’t have to make fun of him, especially as he’s the first to give when someone needs help.He always has been.And I’d rather be like him then ever be like you.”

She walked out of his little office in the small city hall and marched down the steps, back stiff, head high, even as her heart raced and her legs quivered.She was still unlocking her bike when a woman came rushing out of the brick building, her pink heels clattering on the sidewalk.

“You’re doing a good thing,” she said breathlessly, thrusting a twenty-dollar bill at Josie.“And don’t you let anyone tell you otherwise.

“And you’re right about your dad.He’s a good man.He always was the first to help everyone.You’re right to be proud of him.Don’t ever let anyone make you feel small.”She patted her chest and then her middle.“People like to make other people feel bad about themselves.But God loves us no matter our size, no matter our talents.Just remember that when someone is hurtful.Keep doing God’s work.”

“Not really trying to do God’s work,” Josie said.Her family wasn’t particularly big on church, not anymore.They’d gone fairly regularly when she been younger but that had all ended after her dad’s accident.“I’m just doing what everyone should do.Care about your neighbor.”

“That’s right.That’s exactly right.Love thy neighbor.”The woman turned and returned to the building, hustling again.Heels clacking, her pink and purple dress the only bright color on a dreary spring day.

Josie rode her bike to the roofing office not sure if Rye would be there or out on a jobsite.But he was there, working away on his laptop and making notes on a pad of paper.He smiled at her as she approached his desk.“Already done with your homework?”he asked.

She shook her head, exasperated.“It’s spring break, Rye.There’s no school this week.”

“Heading to the library then?”

“No.I’ve been trying to get donations.”

“For who this time?”

“The animal shelter.They just took in a bunch of cats and kittens.They have to spay and neuter and microchip and stuff like that so the kittens could be adopted.”

He set down his pen.“Josie, you don’t have to do everything.”

“Not doing everything.I’m just trying to help a little bit.”

“You know, Jo-Jo, you can’t save everyone.”

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