Healed heart, p.1
Healed Heart, page 1
Healed Heart
Steel Legends
Book 4
HELEN HARDT
This book is an original publication of Waterhouse Press.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
* * *
Copyright © 2025 Waterhouse Press, LLC
Cover Design by Waterhouse Press, LLC
Cover Photographs: Shutterstock
* * *
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
In memory of Angela Tyler, a very special reader
1970-2025
Rest in Peace
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Message from Helen Hardt
Also By Helen Hardt
Acknowledgments
About Helen Hardt
Prologue
Jason
My office looks like a storm went through it. Papers are scattered across my desk’s surface and onto the floor, some crumpled. My computer monitor is tilted, and drawers hang open, their contents dumped out. On the bookshelves, textbooks and journals have been pulled out and tossed aside. The locks on my filing cabinet have been forced open. I look inside to see that several file folders are ripped.
Someone in here was looking for something, and they were doing it quickly.
What the hell could I possibly be keeping in here that would be worth ransacking my office so crudely?
I close the door behind me, locking it. I walk over to my desk, looking through the papers. It’s mostly copies of old syllabi, lecture notes, even some old patient-related files from when I was still a surgeon. I couldn’t bear to part with them when I stopped cutting. I needed some sort of connection to the past.
Speaking of connections to the past…
A single envelope, slightly wrinkled, is strewn to the side carelessly by whoever searched my office.
To Jason…
Christ. It’s the note that Lindsay left behind the day she killed herself.
I’ve never read it.
The day she died, I stuffed it in my pocket. I gave it to one of the cops who eventually came over. He gave it one look and then returned it to me. It was pretty easy to tell what had happened.
That night, I came into the hospital and placed this envelope at the bottom of my lowest desk drawer. Far away from my everyday files and documents, but a small lifeline to the woman who was once the love of my life if I ever needed it.
I don’t know why—I really should be focusing on more important things right now—but I pull the note out of the envelope. Maybe now that I’m about to get some of my life back, I can handle the letter’s contents.
Then a knock on my door. “Dr. Lansing?”
“One second.” I look at the first words.
Jason, I’m sorry, but I can’t carry this weight any longer.
I feel a sting in my gut. But there’s another feeling, one I can’t quite place. Is it…wariness?
Another knock on my door, louder this time. “Dr. Lansing! Please open the door.”
“Be there in a minute,” I say.
Probably some student trying to get extra office hours, despite the fact that mine are by appointment only. I return to the note.
Losing her shattered me in ways I can’t put into words. I’ve tried to be strong—for you, for us—but the pain is relentless, and I can’t see a way forward.
* * *
Please know this isn’t your fault. You gave me everything, but I’ve lost myself in the void she left behind. I hope you find peace someday, even if I couldn’t.
I squint at the note. Something is wrong here. Lindsay did blame me. She could never say it out loud, but I could tell every moment of the rest of her short life that she harbored resentment toward me for the death of our daughter.
I’ll love you forever. See you on the other side, babe.
* * *
Lindsay
Three more sharp knocks. “Open the door now, Dr. Lansing.”
I whip my head back to the door. “Christ! I’ll be there in a second. I’m…changing.”
“You have thirty seconds, or I’ll knock the door down.”
Knock the door down? Definitely not a student, then. Maybe it’s Peter. He probably heard about how my meeting with Dr. Steel went, and he’s concerned I’ve gone off the deep end.
“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a sec.”
I look back at the letter, read over it again. Once, twice, three times.
And an anvil drops in my gut as I realize…
This isn’t my wife’s handwriting.
Chapter One
Angie
It’s been an hour since Jason came to my house, and I’ve been sitting on the floor on the other side of my front door, thinking about what to do. I should get to campus, but I can’t get myself to move.
He wants me to go away with him. To Switzerland. For God knows how long. Long enough for me to have to take a semester off school.
Aunt Melanie will disapprove, that’s for sure.
My whole family will.
But Jason’s right about one thing. I can come back. It’s not like I’m moving to Switzerland.
But…we haven’t even been on a date. All we’ve done is sleep together.
I laugh at that. There was no sleeping involved. And we’ve only done it in a bed once.
I rub at my forehead. Tillie scampers up to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, girl,” I say to her.
I can’t take Tillie overseas, either. I’d have to drive her out to the Western Slope, leave her with my family. I just adopted her. It would break my heart to leave her so soon.
But then there’s Jason.
The chemistry we share is undeniable. I’ve heard my own mom and dad talk about how they fell in love. My aunts, my uncles, my cousins, too. The Steels in particular tend to fall hard and fall fast.
Is that what’s happened to me?
Am I actually in love with Jason?
I can’t stop thinking about him. About the time we’ve shared together. About our first kiss in the anatomy lab, how he ravaged me in my own kitchen. And then back at school, with the cadavers silently watching.
And maybe I’m the only person who can support him in this endeavor. This surgery that means so much to him. A chance for him to return to his old life.
It’s only a few months. And Brianna would not stop blabbering about how beautiful the UK was when she went with Jesse’s band.
I’ve never even left the continental US. The Steels aren’t typically big travelers, despite our wealth.
And away from the university, away from the judging eyes of our colleagues and peers, Jason and I could actually try being a couple.
In that moment, I know what my decision is.
I’m going to do it. I’m going to throw caution to the wind and see if this thing with Jason has any legs.
I run over to his house, pound on his door. “Jason. Jason!”
No answer.
His car isn’t in the driveway. He must have gone somewhere. Probably to campus.
I call his cell. It rings a few times and then goes straight to his voicemail.
Weird. After asking me to go to Switzerland with him, I would think he’d pick up pretty quickly to learn my answer.
Maybe he left his phone in his car or something.
I’ll drive over to the university. I have a class in an hour anyway, and I want to tell Jason in person that I’m going to go to Switzerland with him.
I dash back to my house, let Tillie out for a quick potty break, and then get in my car.
Once I’ve parked, I walk up to the building.
I see Jason’s car parked in the fire lane. I recognize it from the day he disc overed we were neighbors.
Good. He’s here.
I run to his office, nearly knocking over a few students and professors on the way.
“Excuse me, sorry.”
I turn the corner to the hallway where his office is located.
Jason, my sweet Jason. The man of my dreams. The man I’m in love with. He’s going to be so happy to hear what I have to say.
And I run right into someone.
I fall back on my butt. For a second everything is blurry.
I rub my eyes and look at who I’ve run into.
Oh, no.
Sitting on the floor across from me, rubbing his forehead, is Ralph. A few pieces of paper are scattered around him.
Great. Just great.
He looks at me and scowls. “What the hell, Angie? Would it kill you to look where you’re going?”
I slowly get to my feet. “Sorry. Just excited, I guess.”
He furrows his brow. “Excited about what?”
I cross my arms. “Excited about something that is none of your damn business, Ralph. Just like most things in my personal life.”
His ears perk up at my words. “So you’re admitting it, then, that you’ve been fooling around with Dr. Lansing?”
I scoff. “Christ, Ralph. Do you know any other songs?”
He smirks. “That’s not a denial.”
“I’ve already denied your accusation countless times. I don’t need to do it further.”
“Whatever.” He gathers up the documents he dropped when we ran into each other and stuffs them into his pockets. He glances over his shoulder down the hall. “But you seem in an awful rush to get to his office.”
“As a matter of fact… I have an appointment with him. Office hours. About anatomy lab.”
He curls his lips into a grin. “I think you’re going to have to reschedule.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you, like everyone else, think that I’m a lost cause because my interest is in psychiatry. But I’m determined to prove you all—”
He holds up a hand. “Save it. Be a psychiatrist if you want. Be a dentist, a chiropractor. Hell, go for your yoga certification. I don’t give a shit.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Then why did you make that nasty comment about rescheduling my appointment?”
He chuckles softly. “Because your precious Dr. Lansing isn’t in his office right now. He was escorted out about a half hour ago.”
My heart drops to my stomach.
Escorted out?
Like, by a police officer?
“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand.
“I don’t know. A man and a woman were walking with him down the hallway.”
“What man and what woman?”
“You expect me to know that?”
I poke him in his chest hard. “I expect you to be straight with me. Were they…uniformed?”
Ralph lets out a loud guffaw. “Uniformed? Like a security guard or something?”
“Like police officers, you idiot.”
Another guffaw from Ralph. “If only… No. They were dressed like normal people.”
Relief. Only a bit of relief, but I’ll take it.
Why would I be thinking they were police officers anyway? Jason hasn’t done anything wrong. But when Ralph said escorted…
“You’re a piece of work,” I say to him.
He looks me up and down, leering. “So are you, Angela Steel.”
“It’s Simpson, dumbass.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but it may as well be Steel. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth like the rest of them. You have no idea what it’s like for us regular people.”
“You know,” I say, “Tabitha and Eli are regular people, and they seem to accept me just fine. And yeah, I was born to great privilege. I didn’t ask for it.”
“So you’d give it back in a heartbeat?” He scoffs.
“Hell, no.” I look him straight in the eye with my hands on my hips. “Would you?”
He says nothing for a few seconds, until, “So did you check out Dr. Lansing online?”
I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of telling him I did. That I now know Jason is a widower who lost his only child.
Speaking of such a trauma with Ralph seems like I’d be bastardizing it.
“Haven’t had the time yet,” I say.
“Right.” He scoffs again.
“You need to get a life.” I walk away.
“I had a life once,” he says just loud enough for me to hear. “But it was destroyed long ago.”
I stop in my tracks. That was an odd thing to say. I almost turn around to ask him what the hell he means by that, but then I realize he’s just saying cryptic shit to weird me out. Going back would be giving him exactly what he wants.
I keep walking until I’ve left the building.
Crap. I’m still holding Ralph’s notes, but I’d rather poke my own eyes out than go back to him. I’ll return them later. I stuff them into my backpack and get in my car.
Chapter Two
Jason
Sitting in Human Resources isn’t what I had in mind this morning, especially not after I realized that suicide note is not in Lindsay’s handwriting.
Thoughts thunder through my mind.
I suppress the trembling that wants to take over my body.
Lindsay didn’t write that note.
Maybe she had someone else write it for her.
But why would she do that?
And if she did that, someone else has knowledge of what happened. Of why she did what she did.
I mean, I know why she did it. Depression, the loss of Julia. Her refusal to blame me.
Even though I know she did.
“Dr. Lansing,” Regina Morales, the head of HR says, “I suppose you wonder why you’re here.”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
Except that I don’t give a rat’s ass why I’m here. All I can think about is that note. Lindsay.
Who the hell wrote it?
Or is it her handwriting? I mean, I’m no expert. It’s been three years since I’ve seen her write anything.
Do I even have anything to check it against? Only her signature on documents. Lindsay didn’t write much. She mostly typed on her computer.
But she did grade papers by hand sometimes. The few times they were turned in as hardcopies rather than online.
I need to go home. Go through Lindsay’s things…
Except…
I got rid of most of it. It was all too painful to look at.
What I didn’t get rid of I gave to her parents.
“Dr. Lansing…”
I jerk. “Yes, sorry.”
“We’re sorry to take you away from your work this morning,” Regina says. “Richard here”—she nods to her assistant, Richard Decker—“received an email this morning that’s a bit troubling.”
I lift my eyebrows. Shit. Angie wouldn’t—
“It seems there’s been an allegation of some misconduct with a student.”
I keep my expression impassive—or try to at least. “Oh?”
“Do you have any idea what we might be referring to?”
I blink. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“You should know, Dr. Lansing,” Richard says, “that this allegation did not come from a student who is accusing you of anything.”
