Finding Our Hearts

by Grace Roberts

  I turned to look at my sister and she reached out for my hand. I kept one arm around Claire’s waist and linked my fingers through my sister’s, smiling at her. Despite all of the pain, the tears, the heartbreak and the dark moments of despair, we were still a big, happy family, closer than we’d ever been—and bigger, too.

  At some point or another in our lives we’d all experienced devastating pain because of the loss of someone we loved. We’d all been put through a giant meat grinder where our hearts, our hopes, and our whole lives had all been crushed. We’d thought all hope had been lost and that our whole existence had been nothing but a hopeless fight. But it was right when we’d thought the sun would never shine on our lives again that the skies had burst open, and an angel came into our lives to help us find our hearts again.

  * * *

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading this book! I hope you enjoyed Claire and David’s story. If you did, please take a moment to leave a review to help other readers discover it.

  If you haven’t read Kathleen and Colin’s story, you can grab your copy of Healing Our Hearts here: getbook.at/IrishHearts1. Please read on for an excerpt.

  Stay in touch! If you want to be the first to know about my new releases, special sales, and giveaways, please subscribe to my newsletter: authorgraceroberts.com/signup.

  Healing Our Hearts (Irish Hearts, #1)

  Love can heal a crushed heart.

  Kathleen O’Hagan used to love life. She had plans, dreams, and faith in life; but that was before the accident that took it all away from her in an instant. Now that her beloved brother is dead and she’s confined to a wheelchair, her future is but a dark cloud hovering above her head. How can she ever find the will to move on and keep living without him?

  That’s when he comes along.

  Colin Byrne has been a physiotherapist in Dublin for almost five years, but he’s never bonded with a patient like he is bonding with Kathleen. There’s something about those sad blue eyes that makes him want to help her, to take away the pain that reminds him so much of his own.

  That’s when something changes.

  The more time they spend together, the stronger their feelings for each other grow. But Kathleen doesn’t want to be anyone’s burden and Colin doesn’t think he’s worthy of love. Finding a way to heal their hearts seems impossible, until an angelic presence comes into their lives to help them fulfill their destiny.

  Sometimes love can work miracles. If you believe.

  Healing Our Hearts - Chapter 1

  Kathleen

  January 5

  I woke up in a bed that didn’t feel like my own. I opened my eyes and the white light was so bright it stung, so I quickly shut them again.

  I couldn’t remember where I was and I felt weird, as if something were wrong, although I couldn’t quite define what or why.

  I took a deep breath and realized there was something stuck in my nostrils. Instinctively I brought my hand up to touch it, but when I did, a piercing pain shot up my arm. My eyelids fluttered open, and as my eyes slowly adjusted to the bright light, they settled on a needle piercing my skin. I shivered. I had never been a fan of needles and the sight of one pulsing fluids into my arm was enough to give me the creeps.

  I looked away and noticed a screen next to my bed from which a steady, rhythmical beep came, echoing in the empty room. Okay, I was in hospital; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

  But why was I there? I tried to remember where I’d been or what I’d been doing before everything had gone black but, as much as I tried, it was all blurred. I needed to find out what hospital I was in and why, because the uncertainty was driving me crazy.

  Distant voices echoed outside the room, but I wasn’t sure they would hear me if I called for help. I needed to get out of bed, but when I tried to move my legs something just didn’t feel right. It took me a couple of seconds to realize I couldn’t feel them; it was as if my body ended just below my waist. A chill ran down my spine, taking my breath away.

  With shaking hands I slowly lifted the sheet covering the lower part of my body and I squinted, not sure I was ready to see if my legs weren’t there anymore. But they were, just where they’d always been, so I opened my eyes wider and touched my thigh with the tip of my finger.

  Nothing.

  I pinched the bare skin, but it felt weird, as if I were touching someone else’s leg. I couldn’t feel my thigh, although my fingers were still pinching as hard as they could. Panic overcame me. I propped myself up on the bed using my arms to support my weight, but I wasn’t as strong as I thought and when my left arm, the one the IV was attached to, gave in, I slipped and fell, crashing to the floor. I pulled everything attached to my body down with me except for the oxygen tube that was wrenched out of my nose.

  I didn’t feel pain though; at first I didn’t feel anything at all. Then sudden despair took hold of me as I lay there, face down on the tiled floor of a hospital room, and my first thought was how much I needed my brother Declan to wrap me in his arms right now.

  “Oh, dear, what happened to you?”

  A woman came rushing in wearing a pair of those green rubber slippers only doctors and nurses wear. She turned back toward the door and shouted: “Colin, come here now, will ya? I need help.”

  A minute later, a set of feet in white sneakers came into view. Two strong arms lifted me up, and shortly afterward, I was back in bed.

  “Trying to sneak out, were you?” a soft, deep, male voice said. As I looked up to match a face to the sound, I was a little taken aback by the unexpected vision. A young man was standing by my bed and my first impression was that he reminded me of Declan. His eyes were blue, the same shade as my brother’s, and he had brown hair just like him—only his was wavy and tousled and it slightly curled up on the back of his neck, while Declan’s had always been short.

  The nurse fixed the nasal cannula back into my nose, checked that the needle was still in my arm and, when she looked at me again, she had a friendly smile. She looked in her mid-fifties, and her face was round and rosy; her uniform seemed a little too tight for her generous curves and her manner was somehow reassuring, very motherly. It was silly, but it made me feel a little better.

  “I’m Judith, by the way. I’m the head nurse in this ward and you can call me whenever you need anything.” She smiled when I nodded. “Good. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of our best physiotherapist, now. He’ll keep you company until Dr. O’Donnell gets here. You don’t mind, Colin, do you?” the nurse asked, turning toward the man in a white T-shirt and pants. He smiled and nodded; then the nurse looked at me and said she’d be back later.

  I didn’t say a word; besides being in shock, I was too scared to find out if I’d lost my voice, too.

  I looked away, taking a long, deep breath as I stared at the gray-paneled ceiling, wondering what was going to happen next.

  “So, you’re Kathleen, right?”

  I winced at the sound of my name: I didn’t know many people who called me by my full name. I had always been Kathy to everyone in my family and circle of friends—even the teachers at school used to call me that.

  “How are you feeling? Did you get hurt when you fell off the bed?” he asked, checking the screen and looking down at me. He was tall, just as tall as Declan, or maybe he looked taller because I was lying in bed; even so, he wasn’t intimidating, not like any doctor I’d met before.

  His gaze was soft and he was smiling gently at me in a way that made me temporarily forget the reason I’d fallen out of bed. I was momentarily dumbfounded, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face, from his smooth, gentle features.

  “Kathleen? Can you understand me?”

  His words shook me out of my reverie, and I nodded, feeling stupid. I was stuck in a hospital bed and all I could think about was how cute the doctor looked.

  “I’m Colin Byrne. I’m a physiotherapist here,” he said, stretching out his hand toward me and letting i
t fall to his side when I didn’t take it. “From what Dr. O’Donnell told me, I guess we’ll be spending quite a lot of time together over the next few weeks.”

  I frowned, not sure I understood what he was talking about.

  He smiled. “I help people with rehab therapies. I try to get them back on their feet, or at least to a normal life.”

  “Who’s Dr. O’Donnell?” I asked, trying to ignore the fact he’d just talked about rehab. I wouldn’t need any therapies; even though I couldn’t feel my legs now, surely I’d be fine soon.

  “He’s the head physician in this ward, and a great orthopedic surgeon. He’s been taking care of you since you were brought up from the ER. I’m sure he’ll pop in later on when he comes out of the operating room.”

  “Are you American?” His accent sounded unfamiliar to my ears and, although I knew it had nothing to do with the conversation we were having, the words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them.

  His eyes lit with amusement at my question and his lips curled up in a smile.

  “I can’t disguise it, can I?”

  I shook my head and couldn’t help smiling weakly at him.

  “Byrne is a very Irish family name, though.” I was probably starting to sound intrusive, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “My father grew up in County Sligo; then he met my mother, who was American, and they moved back to the States where I was born and grew up. Hence, the American accent.” He winked as he said it.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” I said, blushing. I’d never been a prying person, especially with strangers, but with this guy, well, I couldn’t help wanting to know more. Maybe it was because I wanted to keep my mind off my condition, off the fact I couldn’t feel my legs. Or maybe because he was the first friendly person I’d met.

  “No worries. It happens all the time. I’m used to it.”

  “How long have you been here, then?” I asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

  “Almost fourteen years, so I’m kinda mixed up right now. I’m not sure if I’m more American or more Irish. A bit of both, I guess.” He smiled and shrugged. Then he stared at me and his expression changed, as if he’d realized he was there to do his job and not make small talk with a patient. “Now, back to you. How are you doing?”

  “I can’t feel my legs.”

  Saying it out loud made it even scarier and my heartbeat sped up, echoing in the room through the machine next to my bed.

  “We’ll have to carry out some more tests; sometimes the numbness is only temporary. I know that while you were unconscious they carried out a magnetic resonance of your spine, as well as a brain scan. We’ll know more once we get the results, later on today.”

  “You mean I could be paralyzed?” I whispered, staring at him as if he’d just told me the moon was pink.

  “Like I said, we won’t know for sure until we carry out some more tests and have a better idea of your prognosis. But I won’t lie to you, Kathleen—I never lie to my patients. It’s a possibility you have to consider.”

  I felt as if he’d slapped me hard on the face.

  Paralyzed.

  I might never be able to walk again.

  Tears filled my eyes. I tried to fight them but it didn’t work, and they rolled down my cheeks. This couldn’t be true. I was only twenty-three, I’d barely started living my life and he was telling me I might be confined to a wheelchair? How could this happen? Why did it happen to me?

  “How did it happen? How did I end up in here? I… I don’t remember… Where are we, anyway?” I asked, unable to keep my thoughts to myself any longer.

  “You’re in Beaumont Hospital, in Dublin,” he said, softly. “You were brought here over five hours ago but you’ve been unconscious the whole time. Your parents should be here shortly. They’re downstairs… with your brother.”

  My brother? Which one was he talking about? Was it Declan? Or was it David? No, David would never waste his precious time with me, when he could be with his friends. I wondered if Maggie was here too, but then again, we’d never really gotten along, so she was probably back home in Galway by now. But why were my parents downstairs with one of my brothers? Were they simply having a coffee while they were waiting for me to wake up? Or was it something worse? A million questions shot through my mind.

  “My brother?” I finally dared ask, my voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper.

  He nodded, scrutinizing my face. “He was in the car with you.”

  Car? What car? I frowned, trying to recall, but my mind was blank. He must have noticed my confusion because he pulled up a chair and sat next to my bed, his gaze turning softer.

  “Don’t you remember the accident, Kathleen?”

  “Accident?” I asked, as panic grew inside of me again.

  He nodded, as if he’d expected my reaction. “Sometimes the mind shuts out bad memories to protect itself. It’s a survival mechanism; it’s not unusual in cases like yours. Don’t worry if you can’t remember now; it’ll all slowly come back, as soon as the shock wears off.”

  “What accident?” I asked more firmly this time, ignoring his last comment. I couldn’t care less about how my mind worked; I just wanted to know what had happened to me and my brother.

  He didn’t seem to mind my lack of politeness and took a deep breath, looking at me.

  “A car crashed into yours. The driver was drunk and he didn’t see the traffic light. Your parents said you and your brother were going to the airport. Does it ring any bells?”

  The airport. Our flight to New York. Suddenly it all came back. Declan and I were supposed to take a flight to JFK. I was going to start a new life in New York with Declan, who’d moved there almost three years ago.

  Declan.

  He was in the car with me.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, as realization hit me. “Is he here? Is he okay?”

  The young doctor looked down at the floor, refusing to meet my stare, and my blood ran cold.

  “Is he here?” I asked again.

  He cleared his throat and fumbled with a loose thread on the sheet. “He’s here, only… not in this ward.”

  “Can I see him? Or can he come see me? You said my parents were with him, right? I need to talk to him. We’re gonna have to get new tickets; maybe if we explain we’ve been involved in an accident we’ll get a refund and—”

  “Kathleen, listen,” he cut in, resting his hand on my arm and making me wince. “It should probably be up to Dr. O’Donnell to tell you this, but I don’t know when he’ll be here and I guess it’ll be tough for your parents to say it—”

  “Say what?” I cut him off, upset by the tone he was using. It was soft, too soft for a doctor, and I didn’t like the look on his face. I was sure I wasn’t going to like what he was about to tell me, and suddenly I wasn’t so determined to find out what, exactly, it was.

  “You’re lucky you’re here,” he said in the same soft tone, ignoring my reaction. “When the paramedics arrived on the spot they thought you were dead.”

  Lucky? I couldn’t feel my legs, I had an IV in my arm, a machine monitoring my vitals and I was lucky? This guy had a sick sense of humor, no doubt.

  “Where’s my brother?” I asked, impatience growing inside me like a poisonous weed that tangled my heart.

  “There was nothing the paramedics could do, Kathleen. The other car crashed right into the driver’s side. He died on impact; he was dead when they got there.”

  “I don’t care if the driver died, I want to see my brother!”

  Dr. Byrne looked up and when his eyes met mine his words sunk in and my mouth fell open, as if my jawbone had come out of its socket and I had no control over it anymore.

  “He’s not… is he… um… what did you just…” I stammered, unable to form a single, logical sentence. I swallowed hard, feeling as if a rock had settled inside my throat and was stopping all air from passing through. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t understand… I…”

&
nbsp; His hand was still on my arm and he brushed it gently, as if he thought it could comfort me, but it only annoyed me and I moved away abruptly.

  “He didn’t have time to realize, Kathleen. At least he didn’t feel the pain.”

  The machine next to my bed sounded as if it was going to explode. My heart beat so fast in my chest it slammed against my ribcage, and my throat constricted, as if a hand was around my neck and squeezing hard. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch the doctor in the face just because he’d said my brother hadn’t felt pain.

  But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Oh, God, I couldn’t breathe. I was going to die. I wanted to die. Yes, I wanted to be with Declan, whatever it would mean.

  “I. Can’t. Breathe,” I whispered, gasping for air, as blood drained from my face.

  Dr. Byrne sprang up, removed the oxygen tube from my nose and replaced it quickly with a mask. With a swift movement, he pulled the foot of my bed up so I was lying almost upside-down and, while everything around me started to become fuzzy, I heard him scream a woman’s name, asking her to bring sedatives. He sounded upset, and I kept gasping while my throat seemed to constrict more and more with every passing second, until Dr. Byrne bent down toward me, his face only a few inches away. He was talking to me, but I wasn’t listening, and when his blue eyes finally locked with mine, tears overcame me. Through blurred vision I saw Declan, and he was talking to me; so I listened to him, like I always did. I concentrated on my breath, just like he was telling me: I inhaled. I exhaled. In. Out. Just like he was ordering. I was starting to feel better, the rock in my throat was moving down. Declan was saving me.