Healing Hearts (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Reina Torres

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Marina Adair. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original St. Helena Vineyard Series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Marina Adair, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Healing Hearts

  Second Chances Series - Book 3

  Reina Torres

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  -Marina Adair - Who helped me take this idea and brainstorm the heck out of it over lunch. You are an inspiration to me and an awesome friend!

  -Lots of Thanks to my Readers & My Reviewers!

  I am so thankful that you’ve taken this journey with me. The encouragement and support that you have lavished on me… it means the WORLD to me. Truly, you have my thanks!

  -To Thuy & Carrie - HUGE hugs and love… you ladies reach right down into my heart!

  -The name game - Thanks to these special ladies for suggesting names that inspired Stella’s Dream - her Bed & Breakfast! Terri Chlapek, Crystal Gray, Melissa Terry, and Thuy - you helped me keep things on track!

  Chapter 1

  Kyle O’Malley was a man used to work and lots of it. Raised to have a good work ethic, he’d gone into the military to serve others just as much as feed his growing adrenaline addiction. And it was that need for a rush that had him spending two deployments with a pararescue unit rescuing injured soldiers under fire.

  But it was also that rush that had nearly ended his life along with his career. Too many close calls had thrown his life out of balance and one hard landing had left him searching for the peace that his grandfather enjoyed, back to the town where he’d been born and raised.

  It didn’t hurt that the skills that he’d worked hard to gain over the years were needed in St. Helena. His work with Dax Baudouin had been the most strenuous test so far, but there were plenty of chances to work with people who needed the kind of healing that came as easy as breathing to him. And it didn’t matter what the injury was, seeing the joy on someone’s face when they could move without pain was just as much of an adrenaline rush as jumping out of a plane.

  Well, maybe not exactly, but it was up there.

  Taking a long run through St. Helena in the mornings was just the way to start the day and keep him in top physical shape. It also kept him from being bored. Crossing through the residential area around the center of town kept him physically strong and gave his mind a chance to let go of all the worries that came with opening his own office. His feet pounding a familiar path through the town gave him a reprieve, just as adjusting his route had given him a reprieve from Nora Kincaid and her camera phone. He didn’t need to see another picture of himself on her Facebook wall. He’d drawn the line when she had started a poll for everyone to pick their favorite running shorts from his closet. It had taken Stan’s skills to calm him down and get Nora to ease off the younger O’Malley’s back.

  Now all he had to worry about was building his client list so he could make rent, insurance, water, electricity, and payroll. Sure. Easy as pie. A very thorny, dangerous pie.

  Bracing himself for the day, Kyle unlocked the front door, smiling when he saw the O’Malley Physical Therapy logo painted on the glass beside the door. Printed in neat letters beneath the logo was his ‘promise’ to his patients, “We’ll have you jumping back into the thick of things!” Harper, Adam Baudouin’s wife, had suggested the addition, a little nod to his past career in the Air Force, where he'd made a name for himself for jumping into the middle of hell on almost a daily basis and he was good at what he did, rescuing the injured from situations that would have taken their lives if he and his men hadn't gone in to help.

  Living and working in St. Helena meant that he didn’t have to worry about bullets flying past him, just well-meaning friends of the family thinking that because he had come back, he was hoping to settle down. He didn’t have time for anything like that. Flicking the light switch just inside the door, he crossed the room to the reception desk and looked through his schedule for the day.

  The door behind him opened with a soft electronic peel and he looked up into the mirrored back tile to see his receptionist step inside with a plastic kerchief over her tightly curled hair. “Good Morning, sir.”

  He cringed. Mrs. Darby was literally old enough to be his grandmother. “Please, Almira, call me, Kyle.”

  She wagged a finger at him and gave him a bemused smile that made him feel like he was twelve. “We've had this discussion, sir.” If your patients hear me, your employee,” she paused and pointed at herself for good measure, “calling you by your given name. What's to stop them from taking such liberties?”

  Laughing a little to himself, Kyle gave her an indulgent smile. “Are you worried a woman is going to come in here and take advantage of me?”

  She reached up to untie the strings under her hair cover. “Oh, you laugh now,” she sighed and put the folded headscarf into her purse, “but you don't know how desperate a woman can be when faced with a full on hottie like you.”

  Kyle was more than eager to get past this particular conversation. “Okay, Mrs. Darby. Point taken.”

  “Besides,” she continued, “you need to find a girl, a good girl. It seems like all the other handsome young men have been tying themselves down lately.”

  “I’m not one to tie people down, Mrs. Darby.”

  She caught his words and gave him a reproachful look that melted into a smirk. “Dax, Jonah, and even Adam,” she chuckled, “not to mention the DeLuca boys have all found good girls to settle down with. Why if you don’t hurry, I think-”

  Before she could finish her thought, the phone rang at her desk. He was glad to see her head in that direction.

  He needed Mrs. Darby to keep her focus on the front office and he would take care of his love life. And keep it right where he wanted it. On the back burner. Picking up his backpack, he retreated to his office looking forward to a little peace and quiet before he worked with his first patient of the day.

  Everyone meant well. They wanted him happy, but that would happen someday when he was ready for it. When he didn’t have to worry about pinching every penny to make sure he could keep his office open. Recovering in a hospital was often a struggle for patients, the sterile atmosphere seemed stilted and often made people uncomfortable, slowing their progress. The ability to take his patients out of the hospital, and into a warm, peaceful space, had been his dream, even when he was in the service.

  To do that, Kyle had put a large amount of his savings into O’Malley Orthopedic, making it feel like they were home where they could benefit from peace and quiet.

  Stella Vincenzo felt like her heart was about to flip right out of her chest and land SPLAT on the pavement at her feet as she waited for the delivery truck to appear. She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped.

  “Easy, Steller.” Her father’s soft laughter had her smiling, or maybe instead of his tone, it was the old nickname she hadn'
t heard in quite a while. “Don't borrow trouble.”

  “I can't believe we’re so behind!” Stella took in a series of long breaths. “I thought we were on schedule-”

  “We were,” he grinned at her as a truck turned onto the street, “and we will be again. With you and me doing this, kiddo, no one can beat us.”

  She knew that his voice held a little bit of ‘over acting,’ he was just so eager to make everything ‘good.’ They'd done it for each other for as long as she could remember. Keep things going. One step at a time. Fake it ‘til you make it. The Vincenzos made it work, or they died trying.

  A quick memory of her mother surfaced in her head: a wan smile, a frail hand, the final and unending beep of a heart monitor.

  She shook herself out of it as her father pulled her out of the way of the truck, taking her to a safe distance away on the curb.

  “We should invite Uncle Carlo over for dinner when this is all over,” she murmured to her father. “I can't believe he was able to let us use the empty lot until Picnics and Petals.”

  “He knows it’s your favorite event of the year and probably the best time to start your business. You’ve done a lot of work on the garden and flowers.”

  “Mira helped, she’s got the green thumb. But I’ve been imagining what it’s going to be like to sit on the patio and watch all the people picnicking on the lawn and enjoying all of our hard work.”

  “It’s going to work. We’re going to make it work.” The sure tone in his voice eased a bit of her anxiety.

  The truck driver stepped down out of his cab with a nod at them. “Don’t mind me, I need to set the legs before I set it down for you. Just give me a minute or two, ‘kay?” He walked toward the first corner of the cab and with a smack, he released a leg that sank down and pounded the dirt surface of the lot with a bang.

  Wincing at the noise, her father smiled at her expression. “He loves you as much as I do, and he knows how much this means to you, honey.”

  “It’s been my dream forever,” she felt her heart swell at the thought. Opening a bed and breakfast had only been the latest incarnation of her dream. As a child she'd spent a lot of time playing in the abandoned train cars in the dilapidated turnaround just a few hundred yards from the old train station. Her father had always marveled about how she'd managed not to lose a limb on the old rusted metal frames, but she had never considered the place a danger. To her it had been a wonderland and a magical fort. Now, because of her efforts, she was going to share that magic with visitors to St. Helena. She was giving a second life to these amazing cars.

  Her cell phone rang and she pulled it free from her pocket. “Oh, that's Walt Larsen at the hardware store.” Accepting the call with a swipe of her finger, she held the phone to her ear. When she lowered the phone she gave her father a bright grin. “The rest of the hardware came in.”

  Nico held up his hand before she could continue. “Don't worry. I know you want to stay, besides, Alan’s coming to go over the schedules and plans with you, so I’ll go pick up the parts and be back to help you get started.”

  Stella grabbed her father and pressed kisses on both his cheeks. “You know I love you.”

  He nodded, a warm rush of color in his cheeks. “Just as much as I love you, Steller.”

  With that said, Nico crossed the lot to the street, fishing out his car keys as he went.

  “We’re ready to go!” The driver barked out the words as he climbed back into the cab of the truck and threw the winch into gear.

  It gave a loud squeal a second before the platform began to shift back off the flatbed and slowly begin its descent toward the leveled dirt lot. Stella’s sigh of relief was engulfed by cycle after cycle of something that sounded like raging parrots screaming into your ear. The driver gave them a sympathetic shrug as he tried to make himself heard above the noise. “It's been a little cranky lately!”

  Stella covered her ears with her hands and was happy to see her father do the same so she didn't feel weak in comparison. But the noise was growing and she wondered if the man either had some kind of invisible ear protection or maybe he’d lost his hearing working with this horrible machine.

  But she wasn't about to distract the man while he was unloading ‘her baby.’

  She felt a tap at her shoulder and turned. Alan Morris, one of the men that worked for Jack and Abby Tanner’s construction company was standing less than a foot away with a knowing grimace on his face.

  “Hey,” she read the word more than heard it, “looks like I'm on time.” Alan tapped his wristwatch to get his meaning across.

  She nodded and opened her mouth to reply, over enunciating her words. “You made it in time for the delivery, and-”

  The grinding and wheezing stopped suddenly, leaving a sudden glut of silence in its wake. Stella laughed and started to speak again, but she saw the concerned look that Alan cast over her shoulder.

  Turning around out of sheer curiosity, she almost thanked her lucky stars until she saw the look on Kyle O’Malley’s face. “Oh wow, what did I do now?”

  Alan put his hand on Stella’s shoulder. “He doesn’t look happy,” Stella almost rolled her eyes at the understatement. “You want me to talk to him?”

  She didn’t answer him in words. Instead she took a few steps forward and met Kyle somewhere in the middle. “Good Morning, Doctor O’Malley.”

  “’Good Mornings’ don’t usually include piercing noises and interruptions. What are you doing here?”

  Her ears were still ringing from the loud machinery, but being this close to Kyle had more of an effect on her senses. He was a walking, talking distraction.

  “What am I doing here?”

  His impatient sigh told her he didn’t appreciate repetition any more than he had the noise.

  “We’re building.” The answer seemed the most straightforward, but it ended up being a red flag to the bull, all six feet plus of sexy muscled bull.

  “Not here you’re not.” Kyle’s arm swept out and waved at the lot. “This is supposed to be our parking lot.”

  “And it will be!” She jumped on an answer that might take the sting out of his anger. “Just not for the next few weeks.”

  “What?” His tone was one step warmer than Jack Frost. “You’re telling me you’re going to ‘build’ something in this lot.” He pointed at the wall of windows along the side of the building. “My patients need quiet during their treatment. They need an atmosphere of peace.”

  Stella heard the clipped rhythm of his voice and her stomach clenched. “I really am sorry, I didn’t-” She looked at Alan, struggling to put her words together.

  “We have permission from the owner of the property.” Alan was at her shoulder, setting a reassuring hand on her arm. “If you have an issue, I suggest,” Alan’s tone made it clear that he was pretty much telling Kyle where to step off, “you take it up with him.”

  Stella sucked in a breath through her teeth, hoping that Kyle wouldn’t realize she was one flexed jaw muscle away from drooling on him. She also had a sinking suspicion that he didn’t even know who she was.

  But that was her only blessing at that moment. If she thought that he had recognized her and was still trying to push her around, she might have dissolved in tears. No, maybe not tears, but she would have licked her wounds later with a good bottle of wine and some friends. But right at that moment, with his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. His chest inflating over and over, stretching his shirt across a chest that she knew had to be just amazing, brought her body to life, heat prickling along every inch of skin. Every inch. Especially the inches that really weren’t appropriate to think about in public. Because while she didn’t think Kyle O’Malley could pick her out of a lineup nor would he be likely to put her out if she suddenly caught on fire, and she would bet good money that he had no clue that he had been her childhood crush and was now her real-life fantasy.

  “You can bet that I’m going to talk to Mr. Giannini.” Kyle pulled his
phone out of his back pocket. “Right now.”

  She watched Kyle pace halfway back to his front door, trying not to stare too much at the view.

  “Finally,” Alan’s tone was a bit of a buzzkill but it did bring her back to the matter at hand.

  “I’m hoping Uncle Carlo can fix this,” she worried her bottom lip as she looked over the car from one end to the other. “It looked so different in the weeds.”

  Alan stepped up beside her, his hands braced on his hips. “I bet. I did a little bit of checking after we cleared all the brush around the car before they loaded it up on the truck. This is a Western Pacific Railway Caboose from 1905, in fairly good condition. And when we’re done with it, it will be a work of art.”

  Stella found a little bit of a smile and hoped that Kyle would see that there was a way to make this work for both of them.

  Stealing a glance in Kyle’s direction, Stella would have liked to say she was trying to read his lips or his body language to see if she could find out what was going on, but instead, she was memorizing the way his slacks showed just enough of his muscles that her imagination was trying to figure out the age old question: Boxers or Briefs.

  Yeah, she was hopeless.

  “Hey.”

  She heard Alan talking and turned to listen to him.

  “Stella? You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she lowered her chin slowly in a nod. “I mean, sure. I’m good. Sorry about that whole thing with Kyle.”

  “Nothing to worry about. He’s wound a little tight,” his warm chuckle almost got her to smile. “And in a way, I don’t blame him, it looks like Mr. Giannini didn’t tell him there was going to be a delay on the parking lot.”

  Stella winced. “Looks like. Still, I wasn’t expecting Kyle to get so upset. Maybe I should apologize?” She looked toward the building and saw that Kyle was standing outside his office door, glaring at them, but this time he had his phone out, his body a knot of tension.