He studied her for a moment, and then he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I didn’t have you pegged as a quitter.”

Her face flushed scarlet with anger, and he patted himself on the back for challenging her instead of trying to counsel her. It was the best tactic to use.

“I am not a quitter!” She slammed the trunk lid closed. “My presence on the ranch is disruptive. I’m leaving because taking this job has put my relationship with my uncle in jeopardy and is messing up his honeymoon time.”

The muscles across Wyatt’s shoulders and down along each side of his spine knotted. “I call BS. You’re quitting because you don’t have the guts to stay and learn about ranch work. You don’t have the guts to accept your own limitations.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, which already looked puffy from crying. “You have no idea how I feel!”

“For years I tried to run from something that was impossible for me to escape: that I am and will always be deaf. Do you really believe you’re the only person on earth who’s spent their whole life trying to be something they can’t be? You need to rethink that, because I’m standing right in front of you, and I did exactly that. You told me once that you originally wanted to work with deaf children. Why? I understand that you thought you’d be helping them, and as an adult deaf man, I know those kids need all the help they can get. But can you step out of your own skin long enough to imagine how those little deaf kids feel when every adult they meet is hell-bent on fixing them? Can you understand that others make them feel broken? That it isn’t and never will be okay for them to be deaf in the real world?”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“Well, start.”

“Where are you trying to go with this, Wyatt?”

“I’m trying to make you realize that the only way for you to be happy, really happy, is to accept yourself for who and what you are. Have you ever heard of deaf communities and wondered why deaf people seek them out and live around others like them? I think it’s because they’ve come to accept being deaf and actually like being who they are. And they’re happiest living in communities filled with people who are also deaf and happy about it. The pressure is off, and they can celebrate just being. Some things can never be fixed, and at some point, doesn’t everyone with a disability need to accept it and be glad of it? I’ve never visited a deaf community, so my take on them may be off base, but I know how I feel. I—am—deaf. I’m finished with surgeries to make me hear. I’m finished with gadgets that just complicate my life. For a long time, I’d get my hopes up and think there was a breakthrough that might fix me, but I was always disappointed. And at some point, I became content. Content to be deaf. And once I reached that place, I even started to appreciate deafness as a special gift.”