Chapter Four
T he week passed quickly with Josie spending every free hour at her desk, putting the finishing details on a proposal Melissa asked her to work on. The project was a big one and would bring in significant income and recognition to the firm, but first they needed to get the job. A number of other design firms were putting in proposals, too, for the new private club with luxury homes that would be built in Gardiner, just outside Yellowstone. Melissa had done a considerable amount of work but wanted Josie to polish up the power point presentation, along with ensuring that their proposal included universal design elements.
Josie had been more than happy to review and polish, feeling strongly that public—and private—spaces should be flexible and inclusive. People changed. People aged. Homes and community spaces should grow with people.
It was easy for her to get lost in the work, and it wasn’t until her alarm buzzed, letting her know it was time to leave for class, that she realized just how focused she’d been. Hours had gone by, and she hadn’t even had lunch and now there would be no time.
She quickly changed, grabbed her backpack, and headed down the stairs to Main Street when she spotted someone bumping across the street in a wheelchair. She recognized the wide set of the shoulders and the square jaw.
What was Bear Anderson doing in Bozeman?
Josie hurried across the street and caught up with him before he reached the next light.
She tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey,” she said, suddenly nervous as he turned to face her. “Hi. It’s Josie.”
The edge of his mouth lifted. “I know who you are.”
“How are you?”
“Good. And you?”
“Very good. Just off to class.” She glanced around. “What are you doing in Bozeman?”
“I’m meeting with a commercial real estate agent. He’s going to show me a few available spaces for a business I’m starting.”
“That’s exciting. But what about your home? Are you staying or looking for something different? Rye said you might want to move.”
“I’m only looking to rent a place for now, but yes, that’s on my to-do list, too.”
Josie glanced at her watch. She was going to be late for class for sure. “I need to go, but if you ever need anything—even mediocre design ideas,” she said with a wink, “you’ve got my card.”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I do.”
*
Bear did call Josie that evening. “I wanted to apologize for being rude when you arrived at my house. I was an ass, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I already have.”
He cleared his throat. “You can’t make it that easy.”
“Of course I can. I appreciate the apology but we’re all human and we all make mistakes.”
“I wasn’t angry with you—”
“I know.”
“Or the design firm. I was angry with myself.”
“Why angry with yourself?”
“The house isn’t mine.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you built it.”
Bear didn’t know how to explain, and with anyone else, wouldn’t.
But he wanted to try telling her. “I did, but I built the house for my fiancé, Savannah. We were planning our wedding, and I was building our future family home. There is a lot of her here—every place I look, I see her—and it’s not comfortable. It’s not where I want to be. Even if it was accessible, it’s not my home, not anymore.”
“That makes sense.”
“You’d think I would have known that when I made plans to return to Montana, but I didn’t. It took me some time to get to this realization. I’d thought being trapped downstairs was the issue, but as time went on, I realized there was more to it. This house wasn’t good for me. I wasn’t good. I wasn’t coping well.”
“But now you know. So you can do something about it.”
“Are you always so positive?”
“I like to be,” she said. “If I’ve learned anything in life is that while we can’t control what’s happened, we can hopefully control how we respond to what’s going on now.”
“Your family has had more than its fair share of challenges.”
“I think that’s a fair assessment, but it’s also brought us closer. Hannah, Rye, and I make a formidable team.”
“Your brother said the same thing.”
“See? We’re pretty tight.”
“I’m going to be hiring Rye’s crew to fix my bathroom, but I’ve also let him know that if I find a place for my business, I’d like him to do any work needed. He suggested I talk to you about my business plans and see if what I’m doing could work for your design project required for graduation.”
“I’m interested.”
He laughed. “Wait. I’m supposed to sell you on the idea.”
“You can still do that.”
“Good, as I’m going to see commercial properties in Bozeman Saturday morning, and I wondered if I could meet you for lunch after? I’ll fill you in then, if that would work for you.”
“That’s great. I have no plans for Saturday. Just tell me when and where.”
“I don’t know Bozeman well,” he said. “Can you recommend a place?”
“I’ll send you some names. Look at the menus, and we can do whatever sounds best to you.”
“I want you to enjoy it, too.”
“Oh, I will,” she teased. “I’m only recommending restaurants I like.”
They said goodbye and twenty minutes later Bear got a text from Josie.
Every place on this list has great food and is wheelchair friendly. I’ve eaten at several of them with my family. Most take reservations. The Copper Kid is the only one that doesn’t.
Bear skimmed the list before checking out each of the links. The menus looked good, and equally accessible, which was a plus in a town with historic buildings. In the end, he chose the restaurant with a pretty shaded patio, requesting a table for two on the patio at one o’clock. With the reservation confirmed, he texted Josie back with the restaurant and the time of their reservation.
She liked his text and then answered. Looking forward to it.
For the first time in a long time, Bear almost smiled. He was looking forward to lunch, too. And seeing Josie. She was the draw, not the meal, but his attraction to her unsettled him for the same reasons she’d unsettled him last week. She was too pretty, too young, too optimistic… for him the way he was now. It wasn’t that he couldn’t appreciate a beautiful woman, but he couldn’t get tangled up… or tangle her, either.
*
Bear saw four different properties Saturday morning and none of them were quite right for him. The building would need a big parking lot, and it needed to be conveniently located next to the building, not across the street or down the street, or in a parking tower. The building itself needed to be open and spacious, with lots of interior room for equipment and wheelchairs, which ruled out most of the turn of the century buildings downtown, and close to it. The building shouldn’t have a lot of windows—his clientele wanted privacy—but he hoped to put in sky lights to create an abundance of natural lighting. There was nothing worse than being cooped up in a building with just harsh strips of flourescents overhead.
Bear had a vision, a very clear vision of the business he wanted, and how the space would look and function, but nothing he saw today worked, and he wasn’t going to compromise on what he wanted. He’d just have to keep looking.
He was the first to reach the restaurant and the hostess seated him at the table on the patio, beneath a big umbrella and the shade of adjacent trees. It was warm without being hot, and the breeze rustled the leaves above, making it a perfect day for lunch outside.
A waitress led Josie to the table a few minutes later. Flushed and smiling, Josie greeted him breathlessly. “Am I late?”
“No. I just arrived,” he said, rolling back and drawing out her chair for her.
“Oh, good.” She sat down and gave him a brilliant smile, a smile that lit her eyes and made her teeth flash.
The waitress asked what they wanted to drink and disappeared.
Josie leaned toward Bear. “So? How did it go? Success?”
He shook his head. “Not great, but I’m not giving up. It’s just a matter of time.”
“What are you looking for? Maybe I can help you,” she asked, her violet gaze meeting his. “I’m good at finding things. Just ask Melissa and Neil at the firm.”
Her smile burrowed into his chest, catching his breath and Bear shifted uncomfortably. What was it about her that unsettled him so much? Women never made him uncomfortable before. But Josie… she was different. And he’d changed. He was different now. Not a good different; not the kind of different where he could offer her more. He would only ever be able to offer her less.
But this wasn’t a date, he reminded himself. This was business. “I welcome any and all help. My commercial real estate agent is running out of options for me in Bozeman. Now something could come on the market in the coming months, but I don’t want to wait months to get started. I’m ready to get going now.”
“Are you locked into Bozeman, or are there any other areas you’re interested in? What are your requirements in terms of square footage and other essentials?”
“Let me tell you a little about my business first, which should help explain my requirements as I have specific needs as my clientele have specific needs.”
She pulled out her phone. “Can I make notes?”
“Of course, and to answer your question, no, I’m not locked into Bozeman. It is the biggest city in the area and seemed like the best place for my first location. However, there’s no reason I can’t open a location elsewhere first.”
She looked at him. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m interested in opening a facility where those with SCI—”
“Spinal cord injury?”
He nodded. “Yes. At my facility, people could come and take advantage of a robotic walker for a half day, or day—after training how to use it. Just this year, Medicaid agreed to start covering exoskeletons for personal home use—but not very many have been approved yet and even then, the patient is still out the deductible, which is about twenty percent.”
“Are these exoskeletons terribly expensive?’
“About one hundred thousand dollars each.”
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Over time the cost will come down a little, but not enough for most people. Which is why I want to create facilities where those who would greatly benefit from using one, could have access to them without bankrupting them. The intent is that folks could make a reservation and come use one, just like one would for a personal trainer or a spa appointment.”
“Have you used one before?”
“I actually own one of my own. I haven’t used it recently but should. They’re not sufficient exercise for me to consider them a workout, but they’re good for everything else. It’s important those with SCI get up and stand. It helps with circulation, reduces infections, sores, everything.”
“I’ve never heard very much about them. How were you introduced to them? At a rehab facility?”
“I’ve been involved with the technology for years, long before I was hurt. I became interested in exoskeletons when my friend Sean O’Leary was paralyzed in an accident. I, like everyone on the circuit, am aware of the dangers. Every year, someone dies in this sport, whether it’s a high school kid, college kid, or a professional. It’s dangerous. Just like motocross is dangerous, and other extreme sports. But it’s different when it’s someone close to you that is hurt, you know?”
She nodded but didn’t interrupt him.
After a moment, he continued. “I wanted to be there for Sean. I wanted to know as much as I could, and I did a lot of reading, and a lot of research, and I discovered one of the most important things is getting someone with spinal cord injury on their feet. It helps address a large number of health issues and complications. Someone put me in touch with Dylan Sheenan—he’s from Paradise Valley, comes from an old ranching family—now working in high tech in Austin. He’s taken his success and become an investor in robotics—”
“Robotics?”
“Exoskeletons are a form of robotics, and robotics can help those with spinal cord injuries potentially walk again and regain some movement. It’s still a new field. Every major university hospital is working on trials, but they’re not readily available in communities.”
“If they’re that important to one’s quality of life, why have you stopped using yours?” she asked.
“I’ve just been busy, and its time consuming getting it on.”
“But you have to make the time, Bear. I mean, if you believe in it so much.”
He smiled crookedly. “You make excellent points. But when you see what one looks like, you’ll understand why having a clinic where someone can go to get assistance matters so much to me. No one with an injury wants to be a burden on his or her family, and this way, there is a place they can go to get support from those who understand what they’re going through.”
“I’m impressed. This sounds very exciting and futuristic. I keep thinking of the Iron Man from Avengers, you know how Robert Downey Jr’s character had that external suit he wore which allowed him to be stronger, faster and do those extraordinary stunts?”
“You might want to temper those expectations then. The existing exoskeleton designs are practical, but not stylish. They definitely don’t have all those bells and whistles, but maybe someday.” Amusement lightened his expression. “Maybe someday there will be a robotic suit that would allow someone with a spinal cord injury gain more freedom—not just walking and climbing a few stairs but running. Hiking. Being more fully active. I like to think it’s possible. I would love to think it’s possible in my lifetime, but what we have now is better than nothing. What we have now is promising.”
“But not accessible for most.”
“Exactly.”
“And that’s your goal.”
“Yes.”
*
Yes. His answer, so firm, so determined, resonated with her. Their eyes locked, held, and something in Bear’s gaze made Josie go warm, and the heat spread through her, starting in her chest, seeping into her middle, her arms and legs.
It felt good to understand what was driving him. It felt even better to feel enthusiastic about his goal. She saw his vision and believed in it. Her work wasn’t so dissimilar from his.
Suddenly, she was reminded of his friend Sean, which was how Bear had gotten involved in robotics in the first place. “What about Sean?” she asked. “Has he also embraced the exoskeleton? Did it make a difference for him?”
Bear’s expression changed. He glanced away, his voice deepening. “It didn’t.”
The husky note in his voice was pain, and Josie realized she’d wandered into a sensitive area, and it was better to leave the subject alone.
She took a sip from her water glass before speaking. “I think you’re on to something, and if anyone could make it happen, it would be you.”
He looked back at her, some of his tension easing. “Why me?”
“Because you’re Bear Anderson. Montana legend.” Her smile wavered, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions in check.
Somehow, in just a few conversations, Bear had gotten under her skin. She was drawn to him, and it wasn’t pity that made her respond to him, but something far more powerful. It felt destined somehow. It felt as if she was supposed to know him, and as if they were supposed to work together.
“So, at the same time you’re looking for a spot for your business, you’re also looking for a new home?” she asked.
“I know. It’s a lot. I’m hoping to find a place I can rent soon and then I’ll work on leasing my ranch.”
“I’m glad you’re not going to sell it.”
“I don’t think I could, not right now. I have a lot of great memories of visiting my grandparents there, and spending summers helping my granddad out. He’s the one that got me interested in riding and roping.”
“And bull riding?”
Bear grimaced. “No, he wasn’t a fan of bull riding. He thought it was for showoffs.”
She smiled. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
Josie laughed.
His smile faded. “I wish I hadn’t torn down my grandparents’ house. I wish I’d left it standing and built the new house somewhere else. There is plenty of land. It would have been a far better use of my money—and it could have been a good home for me now.”
“But you didn’t because of the view,” she guessed.
He nodded.
“Down the road, should you want to return to your ranch, I’m sure you could find another spot with the view that will also give you privacy from your neighbors.”
“I don’t have any close neighbors.”
“But you would, if you sold your big house.” She hesitated. “The other thing you might consider is leasing the house for now, and then one day—again, down the road—using the house as part of a family compound. You’d have a new, different house that met your needs, and that big log cabin could become the gathering spot for your kids and their families.”
“I can’t have kids.”
She shrugged. “What about your sister? Does she have kids?”
“A whole pack of them.”
“So, there you go. When your sister visits, she and her pack can stay in the big house, and you’ll have your house, and everyone will create new memories and traditions.”
He studied her a moment, a hint of humor in his silver-gray eyes. “It’s an interesting idea.”
“I’m full of ideas,” she agreed. “Hopefully now and then, I have a good one.”
“I do think you’re on to something, though. Perhaps I could lease the house out for a couple of years and once my business is a go, I can decide what’s right for me. Right now, I just want something that’s smaller. I’m lost in the big house.”
“And possibly more comfortable?” She flashed, unable to hide her smile.
“That would be nice. It’d be great not to fall out of my wheelchair quite so often.”
Her eyes widened. “Does that happen often?”
“Only in the bathroom, but that’s about to change.”
“Good.” She was about to add something when the waitress who’d been hovering in the background for the past ten minutes finally asserted herself and appeared at their table.
“Are you ready to order?” she asked, notepad and pen in hand.
Bear had glanced over the menu before Josie arrived and ordered a bison burger with a green salad. Josie ordered the big summer salad with grilled chicken.
When the waitress left, Josie returned to the subject they were discussing before the interruption. “You didn’t ask for my opinion, but I’m going to give it anyway. I think you want to live near where you’ll be working. You should cut that commute down. I can’t imagine doing a lot of driving every day would be all that good for you.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind driving.”
“You’ve been in Tennessee too long. Our winters aren’t as nice as Nashville. The icy roads are dangerous, and frequently closed, especially out by you. Find a place close to your business, preferably in town, so you can take meetings and meet people and become part of the community.”
“You like Bozeman that much?”
“It’s a great university town, with lots to do here with the restaurants and bars and entertainment. But Rye has settled in Marietta, and he really likes it there. Marietta is much smaller than Bozeman, with maybe twelve or thirteen thousand people. But it’s not a college town, and it’s more small town. It reminds me of Livingston with its old brick buildings and historic downtown.” She paused. “You’ve been to Marietta, right?”
“A few times, mostly to check out the medical center.”
“Marietta Medical is impressive, isn’t it?
“I mostly drove around the complex. I understand it’s grown quite a bit in the past decade.”
“Marietta Medical has received significant endowments from several very generous benefactors allowing it to become a state-of-the-art medical facility. They have some of the best doctors in the state.”
“I like that.”
“My brother Jasper’s medical team is in Bozeman and they’re really good, but Rye has suggested we switch his care to the specialists at Marietta Medical. They just have a lot of growth and energy.”
“Sounds like you favor Marietta.”
Josie laughed. “You should talk to Rye. They’re on the outskirts of Marietta and they’re very happy. They have ten acres because Rye loved his horses, but he’s finally retired from the rodeo—at Ansley’s insistence. She was afraid he’d be hurt, and we already have two men in my family in wheelchairs. We didn’t need him hurt, too.” And then Josie realized what she’d said, and to whom she’d said it, and she went hot and cold, immediately ashamed. “That came out wrong,” she added quickly. “There’s nothing wrong with being in a wheelchair.”
“Oh, there’s everything wrong with being in a wheelchair,” he answered gruffly, “but it’s better than being dead.”
She closed her eyes, appalled by her thoughtlessness. “I wish the ground would just open up and swallow me whole.”
“That might be a tough one to come back from.”
“Fair enough.” Josie took a quick deep breath. “What else can I tell you about Marietta? It’s got a thriving economy and even people new to town—like Rye and Ansley—feel welcome.”
“Was your brother in construction before he retired from competing?”
“He was a roofer then, but this year he got his contractor’s license and now owns a roofing and construction company. He’s really happy.”
“And your sister-in-law? Is she at home? Do they have kids?”
“No kids, not yet. Ansley is an artist and has a gallery in downtown Marietta, right on Main Street, and she’s doing so well. Rye was worried she wouldn’t be able to make her rent every month, but it hasn’t been a problem. People love her work, and she loves painting, and it’s a win-win.”
“What does she paint? Portraits? Landscapes?”
“Landscapes. Big, big canvases, too. Texas, Montana, Idaho, Wyoming. She recently did an exhibit at a prestigious gallery in Jackson Hole and everything sold by the end of the second night. She’s already been invited back for next year.”
“Impressive.”
“She really is. Next time you visit Marietta, check out her gallery, Ansley Art. You might even find something perfect for your new place.”
He grinned. “You Calhouns stick together, don’t you?”
“Just a little bit.”