just been trampled on. His gray gaze rested on the old lady. For one fleeting moment his hurt was palpable, and then the mask was in place again.
Shayna knew what he must feel like. It wasn’t easy accepting the fact that you were a has-been. She wondered what Gail meant about something being fishy about Beau’s fall. She made a mental note to go to the library and read up on the event. Call it her insatiable curiosity.
Gail continued. “I heard you’d been admitted. News travels fast in this facility and the nurses like to talk. They said you were good looking, but, young man, you need a shave.”
Shayna waited for the explosion but Beau just continued to stare at the old lady. Not the least bit intimidated, Gail stared back. She was off and running.
“I saw a replay of your accident on TV. The newscaster said something about you falling out of your skis, that’s why you took that nasty tumble. Don’t worry, you’ll walk again. You’re resilient. Look at your dad; he’s worked to keep our streets safe from crime. He’s a tough attorney, but a fair one. That kid who beat up that woman should be tried as an adult. Hopefully your dad can make that happen.”
Beau just grunted.
“Young man, you disagree?” Gail waggled a finger at him.
“I wouldn’t be in this predicament if it hadn’t been for some hoodlum. The man yanked my purse off my arm and knocked me to the ground, breaking my hip.” She fumbled in her new purse, removing a notepad. “Would you mind autographing this? It’s for my grandson.”
Shayna tuned into the conversation more intently. She wondered if it was for the same grandson Gail kept pushing on her. Gail had made it sound as if Beau’s father was some kind of celebrity. Shayna had lived in Denver less than a year and was still trying to figure out who was who.
While Gail’s comment had piqued her interest, at the same time it saddened her. Her brother, Reggie, was out on bail for a crime he didn’t commit. The attorney representing the woman that had been burglarized and beaten was Anderson. Edward Anderson He couldn’t possibly be Beau’s father. He was as white bread as they came.
Shayna watched Beau awkwardly sign his name on the pad Gail provided. When he was through, he returned it to the old lady, who clutched it to her breast. “Thank you. Thank you. My Timmy’s going to be thrilled.”
Mary Jane had already taken command of Gail’s wheelchair. They headed off with Gail still clutching her notepad as if it were the winning Lotto ticket. “Bye, Beau-Beau,” Mary Jane said from the doorway.
Beau raised his head and glared at the nurse. “Don’t go there.”
Shayna swore his lips twitched. Must be a private joke between them. Those intense gray eyes now assessed her. Feeling warm all over, she quickly opened a window, letting in the crisp spring breeze. It ruffled the daffodils on her desk and brought with it an incredible outdoor smell, fresh, invigorating, biting as well. Shayna inhaled deeply. Was that freshly mown grass she smelled?
“I love the spring, don’t you?” she said, walking over to him and attempting to make conversation. Beau sat slumped in his chair. Shayna squatted down to eye level.
Hmmm, he was wearing a spicy cologne that tickled her nostrils. “So how are you?”
At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer. He stared at his hands, at his wrist still wrapped in Ace bandages, and eventually grunted, “I’m alive. I suppose.”
“Did you finish your homework assignment?”
“I read what I could stomach.”
That wintery voice made her shiver. There were actual goose bumps on her arms. She noticed he hadn’t brought the book with him.
Shayna ignored the fact that her heart was pumping furiously and her breath was coming in little bursts. Beau was talking. Now if she could only keep him talking. His haunted eyes scanned her face, assessing her, taking her measure. He must think she was a BS artist, a fraud. He probably