Chapter Five

As Wyatt drove away from Erin’s cottage, he felt oddly empty. Or maybe hollow described it better. He’d had such a good time with her tonight, and he truly wished they could be friends. On the surface, it had gone so well, and when he’d been with her, he’d had fun. He didn’t normally have much fun. He focused on his responsibilities at the ranch, tried to set a good example for Kennedy, practiced his word pronunciation every evening, and did his best to get a good night’s rest when each day drew to a close. When he went into town, he shopped for groceries, bought himself small bags of specialty coffees, picked up parts to repair whatever needed fixing, and ran errands. He never went anywhere specifically to enjoy himself. On the rare occasions that he stopped someplace to eat, he did so because he was hungry, and he hurried through the meal because he always felt pressed for time. He also avoided conversations with the locals, not because they weren’t nice, friendly people, but because he always got himself into what he’d come to think of as lip-reading events. Out and about in town, he rarely had an opportunity to talk with only one person. Someone else always wanted to put in his two cents’ worth, and Wyatt ended up trying to read too many pairs of lips at once. On top of that, his brain was forced into high gear, trying to supply him with the words he needed to say. Afterward, he always felt exhausted and frustrated. So he had backed away from all of it and worked harder to accept himself for who and what he was, a nice enough guy who liked people but couldn’t communicate well with them. And in the process of reaching that point of acceptance, he’d also had to embrace his disability and be glad of it.

With Erin this evening, he hadn’t struggled in order to communicate with people, though, and that was a first for him. Recalling their meal together, he belatedly realized that she’d made a point of keeping her face visible to him as she’d conversed with Ben. That had allowed him a clear view of her lips whenever she spoke, so even when he couldn’t see Ben’s, he’d been able to get the general gist of what he’d said by reading her responses. Wow. It had been wonderful not to get that awful feeling of frustration and inadequacy that always flooded through him when more than one person was talking and he couldn’t keep up.

And Erin had made that happen.

It boggled his mind. Not even Kennedy completely understood Wyatt’s reasons for avoiding group interactions. Yet somehow, Erin not only understood, but she had made sure it wouldn’t be unpleasant for him by striving to keep him in the loop. She’d told him that she had worked with deaf kids and had yearned to make a career of it before her father redirected her footsteps toward law enforcement. Apparently she had retained a lot of knowledge about hearing-impaired individuals. It wasn’t only that Erin knew a lot about deafness. She actually understood the obstacles that a non-hearing person faced, she truly cared, and in a natural, low-key way that hadn’t embarrassed him, she’d made sure he wasn’t left out of the chitchat that transpired between her and Ben. Nobody had ever done that for him, not even his parents or Kennedy. Wyatt knew they loved him. He knew they had all three gone out of their way to accommodate his differences. But they just didn’t get it, not in the same way Erin did.