Know Me, Keep Me Page 2

  Jolene squared her shoulders. “He might be able to tell I’m nervous, but I’ll make sure he’s also aware I know my stuff and have high expectations.”

  Libby laughed. “I’ve seen you in action enough to know that if he’s a slacker, he’s in trouble.”

  “Boone Kendall’s no slacker,” Jolene said confidently. She paused outside her office door. “Thanks again for eating lunch with me, Lib. I’ll see you later.”

  ***

  A few minutes later Jolene was seated in a circle with her four physical therapy assistants, going over the list of twenty veterans who would be arriving on Monday, five days from now. Most retreat centers did week-long retreats, but at the Full Heart they were committed to retreats two weeks in length, followed by a full week off, to allow their staff a chance to evaluate the programs and refine them as they went along. Also to stay fresh and rested and excited about what they were doing.

  The retreats were intense, dealing with many different issues, including PTSD. The veterans who came to the Full Heart Ranch had had their lives changed forever by their injuries. Some had positive, cheerful outlooks that were inspiring to see, while others were struggling to accept their new reality. It could be challenging, but so worth the effort.

  The main focus of the retreats was the importance of ongoing physical therapy, and leading an active life. Physical activity and keeping busy were both incredibly important to maintaining a good mental state. At the ranch, the staff sought to introduce activities that were safe, fun, and promoted physical fitness, and could be continued when the veterans left the retreat center. And because family involvement was so important to recovery, the retreats were set up for full family participation.

  For the more mobile participants, the center had a beautiful equestrian center, vast acres for horseback riding, ATV trails, buttes to climb, and in the winter months, cross country skiing and snowmobiling. And now, an ice rink that would allow year round skating and hockey. For those with injuries that precluded the more active pursuits, there were specially fitted ATVs, a therapy pool, fishing trips, archery, a gun range, cooking workshops, and even an art studio.

  When new groups arrived, they signed up for the activities that interested them most, and a well-trained staff directed them through a rigorous two week schedule. There were also many activities for the kids who came along, as well as activities and workshops for spouses and significant others who wanted to learn more about the needs and expectations of their loved ones.

  Jolene had been volunteering at a number of similar centers across the country for years, and had been heavily involved in the planning of the Full Heart Ranch Retreat Center. She had become friends with one of the founders of the center, Maddy Simon, years ago, when she’d been hired as her physical therapist. Maddy had been abducted and tortured back in her home state of North Carolina, and her FBI husband, Tuck, who back then had been known to Maddy only as her best friend’s brother, had rescued her and brought her here to the ranch to recover. He’d also been the one to hire Jolene, and the result had been a strong friendship with both Maddy and Tuck, as well as Tuck’s sister Libby, and more recently, Libby’s new husband, Ryan, who also worked as an FBI agent.

  When her friends had decided to build a retreat center right here at the ranch, Jolene had quickly jumped on board as an advisor. Tuck and Libby had been blessed with a sizeable inheritance when their parents were killed in a car accident many years ago, and they had funded the initial construction of the center. Libby was also a skilled marketer and fund-raiser, and the number of corporate and individual sponsors she’d already amassed was beyond impressive. Although the organization wasn’t operating quite at the break-even point, they were getting there fast, even with offering the retreats at absolutely no cost to the veterans and their families.

  The construction had been the most exciting project Jolene had ever been involved in. The others had relied heavily on her input, and naturally she’d been offered the chance to run the PT department right off the bat. However, she was a partner in a physical therapy practice in Grand Forks, and wasn’t in a position to immediately walk away from that. So, at first, the PT department at the center had been headed by an old friend she recruited, who came out of retirement to help get things up and running.

  Jolene knew from the beginning that the others held out hope she would eventually take over, and five months ago, after a lot of prayer, she’d decided the time was right to do so. She given up her partnership, packed up her belongings, and came to the ranch to work full time.

  She hadn’t regretted her decision for a moment. Working with her best friends and doing what she loved most was a dream come true. Her job was exciting and challenging, and seeing the difference two weeks could make to the long term prospects of the families they brought here was the most fulfilling thing she could ever imagine.

  Now, as she watched her four assistants perusing the list of the incoming group, working together to categorize the various disabilities and needs, she felt full of pride, yet humbled to be tasked with such an important mission. Helping groups of proud yet broken men and women regain lives of love and purpose was an almost sacred undertaking, and she prayed daily for the wisdom and knowledge to know how best to serve them. She couldn’t do it without the support of a good staff, however, and her gratefulness included the wonderful people she was surrounded with.

  And now, as unbelievable as it sounded, Boone Kendall was going to be joining their volunteer ranks for the next two months. They already had two paid staff for the ice rink, one to cover maintenance of the building and the ice itself, and the other to operate the main rink program. Getting Boone as their first volunteer was a huge coup. It would get the word out, and hopefully they’d be able to attract other high profile volunteers to help with the rink operations once he was gone.

  Unfortunately they couldn’t share the news quite yet, since Boone had requested no publicity while he was there. Jolene understood his desire for privacy, especially with what he was going through at the moment health-wise. Still, it was a little disappointing to not be able to shout “Boone Kendall is here” from the rooftops. She was that excited about it.

  One thing she could do, however, was finally share the news with her staff. She’d purposely kept it under wraps until now, because quite frankly she hadn’t been sure Boone would follow through. She didn’t want to get everyone excited about him coming, only to have to break the news that he’d changed his mind. Now that she knew he was actually on the way to Barlow, she was ready to share.

  One of her four staff members was a hockey novice, and poor Lloyd looked confused when Jolene excitedly made the announcement. He had no idea who Boone Kendall was. The other three, Greg, Cameron and Izzy, went slack-jawed, then whooped with excitement. Boone Kendall was coming here? Whaaaat? How had the retreat center managed such a score?

  Jolene explained that Boone had requested a volunteer position as he recovered from the blow to his head that had caused ongoing concussion symptoms. Cameron bristled at the reminder that the Wild had lost their best player, pointing out that the opposing player who had boarded Boone in a seriously dirty play should have gotten much more than a hefty fine and a three game suspension. Jolene happened to agree, but she moved the conversation past that and explained that while most of Boone’s time would be spent at the rink, he would also be working out twice a day in the PT department, under her supervision.

  Izzy gave her a big smile. “You just let me know if you need help with that, Jolene. I’d be happy to take my turn.”

  Jolene gave her a wry smile. “I’d be happy to share, Izzy, but one of the requirements of the Wild’s General Manager, Ian Thompson, was that a licensed physical therapist be present for all of Boone’s workouts. They checked out my qualifications and experience to the nth degree, let me tell you. For a while I thought they were going to send one of their own people with him, but evidently that’s not what Boone wanted. So they settled for me.”

 
“He’s lucky to have you, if you ask me,” Greg declared loyally.

  “Is Boone going to be living on site?” Izzy asked.

  “He is. And he might be bringing a companion. He didn’t say, but it’s a possibility. I’m sure you’ll all get a chance to spend some time with him at meals and such, but I also ask that you respect his desire for privacy. If I hear that any of the retreat center staff is becoming a nuisance, I’ll address the problem and it will stop. Also, we’re asking everyone to keep quiet about him being here until after he leaves. The last thing Boone wants is to have photographers find him here and make his life miserable. He said we can publicize it all we want, but only after he’s gone. Is that clear? I need to know that I can trust you guys to be discreet about this.”

  “There are a lot more people than just us to worry about, though,” Greg warned. “There’s the maintenance staff, the food service staff, and the admin people. Not to mention the local volunteers. Do you really think we can keep it on the down low for a couple of months? And what about all the people who come to our retreats? They’re going to want to tell everyone they skated with Boone Kendall.”

  “The news will trickle out, that’s a given,” Jolene said. “I think Boone’s hoping that by the time it does, the public will have accepted he’s not coming back to the ice this season, and interest will have died down. Worst case, we’ll need to increase security while he’s here. Tuck and Ryan can help us with that.”

  “Guess I’d better brush up on my hockey knowledge tonight,” Lowell grumbled. “Don’t want to embarrass myself should Boone and I strike up a conversation.”

  “One night of cramming won’t fool him,” Greg said.

  Izzy and Cameron agreed. “You either love hockey or you don’t,” Cameron said. “And if you don’t, you can’t fake it.”

  “Better to just admit your ignorance,” Izzy added.

  Jolene grinned and left them to it. They were a competent bunch, and she knew they would eventually get off the subject of hockey and back to categorizing next week’s guests.

  Alone in her office, Jolene found the workout lists she’d received from Boone’s trainers and spread them out on her desk. Basically he was limited by only two things. First, he couldn’t do anything that might give him another knock on the head. Second, he had to keep his heart rate below the rate that caused symptoms to occur or worsen. If he became symptomatic at a heart rate of 140, for example, then his exercise regimen needed to be designed to give him a good workout while keeping his heart rate no higher than 130, to be safe.

  Jolene was glad she’d taken classes to become a certified personal trainer a few years back. Without that addition to her resume, she wasn’t sure Boone’s general manager would have trusted her to be able to fully take care of his needs.

  She scooped the papers into a stack and sat back in her chair, pondering things. Boone had been terribly unlucky with this injury. Only a small percentage of people experienced post-concussion syndrome, meaning they still had problems with things such as headaches and dizziness more than six weeks after the injury. Jolene had spent hours reading up on PCS, and she knew that controlled exercise could be a huge help in re-establishing normal cerebral blood flow, which seemed to be the key to healing. She planned to make sure Boone got the exercise he needed to accomplish that, but she would definitely monitor it so as to prevent further injury.

  Along with all that, she was a firm believer that a person’s attitude contributed to their overall healing. She hoped Boone would allow her to be creative. Maintaining his muscle tone would necessarily involve gym equipment, but she also believed that broadening his horizons beyond the rink and the gym could be beneficial. Maybe climbing a few buttes, or riding bike around the ranch. If she had any say, the hockey star would get to know the Full Heart Ranch very well. It was a beautiful, peaceful, healing place, and she wanted to share that with her favorite athlete.

  The opportunity to work with him was one of the best things that had happened in all of her twenty-seven years, and a thrill ran through her every time she thought about it. The man really was something on the ice. This was only his second season with the Wild, and if he’d stayed healthy, she was confident the team would have made it into the play-offs for the first time in many years. His level of play and his leadership were second to none, in her opinion. His concussion had been a devastating blow to the team and its fans, but there was always next year.

  Jolene was determined to do her part to ensure that next year was the year for Boone Kendall and the Wild.

  CHAPTER 3

  According to his phone’s GPS, Boone was currently half an hour away from the Full Heart Ranch. He had landed at the airport in Grand Forks two hours ago. It had taken a little while to get his bags and pick up the rental car, but thankfully his ball cap and sunglasses had kept anyone from recognizing him. The person he’d spoken to at the ranch, Maddy was her name, had offered to send someone to pick him up, but he’d opted to rent a car and drive there himself. He didn’t feel up to making small talk with a driver.

  As he neared his destination, he became increasingly aware of his surroundings. He was pretty sure this area of North Dakota could be a desolate place in the winter, but now, in late April, with the sky blue and completely cloudless above, and endless acres of grass starting to turn green, it was a beautiful place. So different from the concrete and high-rises of Chicago, where he’d grown up. What if he’d been raised in a place like this? Would his constant companion have been a horse instead of a hockey stick? That was hard to imagine.

  The lack of traffic was nice, though. There were very few vehicles on the two lane road headed northwest, and those he did pass were mostly pickup trucks. Boone was glad he’d rented an SUV instead of the Mercedes he’d been offered. Luxury cars didn’t seem to be the norm out here, and the last thing he wanted to do was stand out. He knew it was inevitable that his whereabouts would eventually be discovered, but he’d take his anonymity for as long as he could get it.

  Normally he took the notoriety that came with his profession in stride. It was only lately, while dealing with the concussion from hell on top of everything else that was festering in his life, that he’d felt the desire to get away and hide out. Thankfully the people in charge at the ranch were on board with keeping his presence off the record, which might buy him some extra time to settle in there and regroup a bit before being thrust back into the limelight.

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, wishing he could pump some iron or run five or six miles to get rid of the nervous energy that plagued him. That’s exactly what he would have done, if not for the blasted headaches. And he had a doozy at the moment. The dizziness had been gone for a couple weeks now, but the headaches hadn’t let up and it was rare to wake up without one. He tried to tough them out and stay away from pills, but he was afraid tonight he’d have to crack open the bottle his doc had sent along. His head hurt, his mind was whirling, and his body was stiff and sore from tension. He wasn’t going to get any sleep without a little help.

  In one mile, turn right onto Barlow Road.

  “Yes ma’am,” Boone murmured to the helpful GPS voice. One mile. He felt his body tensing up again. He took a long drink from his water bottle and gave himself a stern talking to. He had to relax and go with the flow. As far as everyone at the Full Heart Ranch Retreat Center was concerned, he was just a hockey player with a banged up head that refused to heal. He’d been cut loose from his team while he recovered, put on extended injured reserve, and he needed something useful to do during the downtime. As luck would have it, he had a soft spot for veterans, and since they had a brand new ice rink, their facility had won out. That’s all they knew, and it’s all they needed to know.

  Arriving at destination on the right.

  He didn’t need the GPS voice to tell him that, as a very impressive stone and iron archway marked the entrance to the Full Heart Ranch. Boone steered through it, then veered off to the left a short distance later,
following the signs to the retreat center. He smiled approvingly when he came to a gate with a little guard house alongside. A sturdy wooden fence stretched out from both sides of the entrance, as far as he could see. The guard and the fence wouldn’t keep out someone bent on causing trouble, but it should keep photographers and reporters nicely at bay.

  A middle aged man emerged from the guard house, dressed casually in jeans and cowboy boots, and packing an impressive handgun in a side holster.

  “Good afternoon,” he greeted. “Your name, please?”

  “Boone Kendall. I’ll be volunteering here for the next couple of months.”

  The guard checked his notebook, then gave a friendly smile. “Got you on the list, Mr. Kendall. If I could just see a picture ID, I’ll get you on your way.”

  Boone showed his driver’s license, and the guard nodded. “Welcome to the Full Heart Ranch. It’ll be time well spent, I can guarantee you that. Just follow this lane until you come to a tee in the road. The administrative building and the lodge are to the right, and staff accommodations are to the left. Every building is well marked, so you’ll know what’s what. If you don’t know where you’ll be staying yet, I’d suggest you head on over to the offices and check in with the receptionist. She’ll get you where you need to go. We don’t have any new retreat families coming in until Monday, so you’ll have plenty of time to settle in.”

  “Thanks for your help,” Boone said, waving as he drove off. So far so good.

  He crested a small hill, which brought the retreat center fully into view. Wow. It was a lot bigger than he’d expected. The whole center was too new to have shown on the satellite images he’d scrutinized so closely, and although he’d seen the basic layout on their website, the real thing was a lot more impressive.

  The main building was three stories, and he knew from his research that it was mostly lodging, with the bottom floor housing a dining hall, classrooms, a spa, and a small movie theater. The building to the right of the lodge building was where he’d find the admin offices, and judging from its size there were other things housed there, too. To the left was what had to be a gym, and probably the physical therapy area. He could see the roof of the equestrian center, which was a ways behind the three main buildings, and then much further to the left was a building that looked like a dorm, and a line of cabins. That would be the staff housing area. He didn’t see anything that looked like it housed an ice rink, but with the height of the lodge, it could easily be hidden.