The Place I Belong (12 page)

“It might mean something is affecting his nervous system. If so, we can find it,” Hannah reassured him. “Or he might just be a klutz.”

That got a brief smile from the boy, who stroked the pony’s reddish-brown neck. “He wasn’t klutzy when I rode him.”

“A good rider actually helps his mount stay balanced,” Hannah said, remembering her own riding lessons.

“Really?” Matt’s smile was genuine this time.

“Here’s the kit,” Sharon said, swinging a plastic tack box filled with various brushes, curry combs, and other grooming equipment over the stall door. “Remember what I showed you before we saddled him up? Just brush the same places, with some extra attention to where the saddle and girth were. He’ll like that.”

Matt took the caddy and set it down on the straw bedding under Satchmo’s hanging water bucket.

Adam looked over the half-door. “I’ve got the X-ray machine.”

“Bring it in,” Hannah said, giving Satchmo a nudge to move him out of the way. She liked the fact that Matt continued to smooth his hand over the pony’s neck and shoulders. Satchmo didn’t look especially bothered by the commotion, but Matt’s soothing might be partially responsible for that.

Adam half-carried, half-shoved the bright-yellow wheeled chest into the stall. He dusted his palms on the back of his jeans. “This thing wallows rather than rolls.”

“It’s not well-designed for cross-country travel,” Hannah said with an apologetic look. She knelt to flip open the latches and began assembling the pieces of the machine.

Adam squatted down beside her. “What can I do to help?”

She hesitated a moment, not sure she wanted to work so closely with his distracting presence. She could think of no polite reason to refuse, so she handed him the stand for the scanner. “If you could set this up…”

He took it and stood, turning it over in his hands several times. “My father used to work on antique cars in his spare time. After a couple of attempts to teach me where the carburetor was, he gave up.” He managed to pry out one of the legs. “I’m better with pans.”

“Don’t feel bad,” she said, taking the stand and flipping open the other legs before she set it on the straw. “I can’t make a
soufflé
.”

She heard a snort of laughter from Matt. Adam’s head swiveled toward his son before he turned back to Hannah with a somber smile. “Give me clear instructions, and I’ll do the heavy lifting.”

“Deal.” With his assistance, she assembled the machine swiftly. “Okay, Matt, keep Satchmo as still as you can while I scan this over him.”

Tim bought only the best equipment for his practice, so the X-ray machine was digital, allowing her to examine the images as she took them. The boy and the pony showed remarkable patience as she had them shift positions to improve the pictures. She didn’t see any noticeable abnormalities, although she’d go over the X-rays again at the office. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she almost wished there’d been something wrong that she could diagnose and treat.

“All done. Satchmo deserves a good brushing for being such a cooperative patient,” she said, running her hand along the pony’s back before moving to his head to scratch behind his ears. He huffed out a long sigh that made Matt chortle.

“I know,” Hannah said. “Doctors are such a pain.” She caught the ache of longing in Adam’s eyes as he watched the by-play between her and his son.

“Did you see anything bad?” the boy asked.

Hannah shook her head. “No tumors, no obstructions, no spinal damage. I’m going to draw some blood while you’re grooming him to see what else I can rule out.”

“So he might be sad about his stall buddy,” Matt said. “That could be all that’s wrong with him.”

“It could be,” she agreed. However, she didn’t want to
take the chance that it was something she should be treating
medically
.

She unhooked the scanner from its stand. Adam disassembled the rest of the machine, proving he was a quick study, while she stowed the parts back in the chest. “I’ll wheel that back to the truck when you’re ready to leave,” he said.

It took only a few more minutes to draw Satchmo’s blood.
As she packed the vials away in their hard case in the
duffel
bag,
Matt cast a glance at her and cleared his throat. “I thought…maybe…well, could you text me if you find out anything? I’ll give you my cell number.” His voice shook slightly, and Hannah realized he was expecting the worst.

“Sure thing,” she said, pulling out her phone to type in the number he gave her. “It may take a couple of days to get results but whatever I find out, I’ll tell you right away.” She met the boy’s eyes straight on. “Don’t make yourself crazy worrying. We’ll figure out how to make Satchmo feel better.”

As she stooped to pick up the duffel, the bag was whisked out from under her fingers. “I’ll put it on top of the X-ray machine,” Adam said.

“But—”

Clearly torn between parental concern and chivalry, he held up his hand to stop her objection before he turned to his son. “Matt, will you be okay here while I help Dr. Linden?”

Matt cast him a look of disgust. “Sharon trusted me to lead Satchmo back here.”

“How about I stay here until you get back?” Hannah said. It was safer for her peace of mind not to spend any more time than necessary with Adam.

He gave her a perplexed look, as though he suspected she was avoiding him.

Matt nodded and went back to brushing Satchmo, while Hannah held the stall door open to let Adam wrestle the X-ray machine out into the barn’s wide central passageway. When
they emerged, Sharon broke off the conversation she was having with a groom and came over. “Is Matt in there with
Satchmo?”

“He’s still brushing him,” Adam said. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll stay here while you lug that mini-school bus back to Doc’s truck,” Sharon said, strolling over to the stall door.

“Well…okay,” Hannah said, wishing Sharon weren’t so darned accommodating. Sticking her head back in the stall, Hannah said, “Matt, Sharon’s here, so I’ll be in touch with you as soon as I know anything.”

She jogged along the central corridor to find Adam had hauled the X-ray chest, burdened with the extra weight of the
duffel
, halfway through the barn. Catching up with him, s
he notic
ed the pull of the black leather over his shoulders as he strained to move the machine through the thick pine bark. He bent to adjust a wheel, making his jeans tighten across his muscular butt and thighs. She found herself cursing the chest’s awful design for giving her such an eyeful.

“I’ll help,” she said, getting on the other side and pushing so she didn’t have to resist the temptation to gawk at him.

“What did they think you would be rolling this over? Paved roads?”

“Tim ordered larger wheels, but they haven’t arrived yet,”
s
he said
.

Once they got the chest out onto the relatively smooth gravel parking area, Adam said, “I can handle it from here.” Hannah stepped back and let him go. He slid the duffel bag carefully onto the front seat and walked back to hoist the chest into the truck. She was struck by the easy grace with which he moved, like one of Sharon’s Thoroughbreds.

She joined him just as he slammed the tailgate closed. “Thanks,” she said. “I was going to co-opt one of Sharon’s stable hands to deal with that.”

When he turned, she noticed his chest rising and falling, his breathing accelerated from his exertions. And suddenly she was aware of him on a different level, one that was primitive and physical. The feeling curled low into her belly and made her eyelids grow heavy as her gaze focused on his mouth, its sensual lower lip edged by that dusting of dark stubble. She found herself imagining what his shadow beard would feel like against
her skin
.

His breathing grew louder, and she lifted her eyes to find him staring down at her with an intentness that matched her own. For a long, still moment, she let herself drink in the velvet darkness of his eyes and the scent of spices that drifted across the small space between them. With a faint creak of his leather jacket, he lifted a hand to catch the loose strand of her hair blowing across her face and smooth it behind her ear.

The slight brush of his fingers against the shell of her ear sent a shiver racing through her body.

For a moment they simply looked at each other, whatever it was between them vibrating in the air.

He lowered his hand. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “You’ve been so good to Matt.”

She felt like he had changed the subject, even though they hadn’t exchanged a word after she’d thanked him. She shrugged and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “He’s helping Satchmo.”

He stared at his boots in silence before looking back up. “I plan to buy Satchmo, so send the bill for today’s visit to me.”

She shook her head and he frowned. “I came on my own today,” she explained. “Sharon didn’t ask me to, so there’s no charge.”

“You used expensive medical equipment and spent a lot of time on the pony. You should be paid.”

“If we get Satchmo right, that’s payment enough.” She scuffed her toe in the gravel. “That’s a nice thing to do, buying the pony for Matt.”

“There isn’t a lot I can do for my son, so I’m glad to have this.”

Sadness seeped through her. It must be tough to have his
child reject him so completely. “I’d better tear Matt away so
Sharon can get on with her day,” he said. Instead of turning away, as she expected, his gaze stayed on her face while he seemed to debate some question with himself. “Hannah, I…thank you.” He leaned forward to lightly touch his lips to hers, the stubble barely grazing her skin.

That briefest brush of his mouth against hers sent her nervous system into overload. She felt herself begin to lean into the kiss just as he pulled back and wheeled away toward the barn.

She stood there, watching his back, while his touch seemed to repeat itself all over her body.

She turned and bolted into the truck, slamming the door to shatter whatever had just passed between them.

Adam walked into the barn as though he knew exactly where he was going. The moment he stepped out of the sunlight and into the shadowy interior, he dodged into an empty stall and leaned his forehead against the rough wood of the partition.

What the hell did he think he was doing? He’d found someone who could actually communicate with Matt and he was going to screw it up by adding personal complications. He smacked his palm against the wall.

For a moment he’d forgotten about everything except the pale silk of Hannah’s hair, the cold-heightened pink of her cheeks, and the certainty that kissing her would be the best thing he’d felt in a long time.

It had to be her kindness toward Matt and Satchmo that made him lose his bearings. Watching her sensitive hands as they glided over the pony’s body in search of unseen problems, he’d found himself wishing it were his body she was touching with such gentle inquiry. He felt a stirring in his gut as the image of Hannah skimming her fingers down his bare chest washed through his mind.

He pounded the wall harder.

Chapter 8

A
FTER SCANNING THE
intake sheet on the door, Hannah walked into the examining room to meet her sixth patient of the day. A squat, gray-haired woman wearing a paisley housecoat stood beside the examination table, on which a plastic cat case rested.

“Good morning, Mrs. Shanks. I’m Dr. Linden. I understand Willie is having trouble with hair balls?”

“Where’s Dr. Tim?” the elderly woman asked, grabbing the handle of the cat case.

“He’s out of town,” Hannah said with a smile, going to the sink to wash her hands. “I’m his new partner.”

“I’ll just wait until he gets back,” the woman said, swinging the cat case off the table.

Startled, Hannah looked up. “He’s not returning until Monday, and it sounds like Willie needs treatment now.”

“Then I’ll take him to the vet over to Hu
mphries.” Mrs. Shank
s
maneuvered the cat carrier through the door and was gone
before Hannah
could dry her hands.

She was concerned about the cat’s health, so she followed the woman down the hallway to the door into the reception area. Mrs. Shanks was in a hurry, and the door swung shut in Hannah’s face. As she reached for the knob, she heard the woman say, “Estelle Wilson, I’m not having that woman vet work on my Willie. How could you think such a thing?”

So Mrs. Shanks was sexist. Hannah could handle that. She started to turn the knob, when the woman continued. “I hear she killed a dog in Chicago without the owner’s permission. I’m going to Dr. Lawson in Humphries.” Her voice grew louder. “And everyone in this waiting room should too.”

Hannah let go of the knob and walked blindly into the first empty examining room she saw, closing the door and bracing herself on the counter.

Her past had found her even here in Sanctuary, a place she had been certain was far enough away and isolated enough that no one but her boss would have heard her story. Since Tim knew what had happened and had still hired her, she hoped that even those who were aware of it wouldn’t care about what happened in a distant city.

Mrs. Shanks’s words yanked her back six months to the horrible days in Chicago when patient after patient cancelled appointments with her. Or worse, they kept their appointments so they could tell her in no uncertain terms what they thought of her actions before they whisked their pets out the door, just like Mrs. Shanks.

She braced herself on the Formica countertop, her head hanging as she sucked in deep breaths to ease her anxiety. She’d done the right thing back in Chicago. Why was its shadow falling on her here?

She wondered how many people in the waiting room outside had followed the woman’s advice and walked out. Her throat closed up and she struggled to swallow. She couldn’t go through this again. And she couldn’t do this to Tim.

The door opened and she jerked upright, turning away from whoever was entering and wrenching on the faucets to pretend she was scrubbing her hands.

“Oh, sorry, Dr. Linden,” she heard Sonya say. “I’ll go to another room.”

She was heaving a sigh of relief when a familiar voice said, “Wait, I’d like to talk with Dr. Linden.”

Adam must have glimpsed her over Sonya’s shoulder. She just hoped he hadn’t seen her moment of weakness on the counter.

“Um, we’ll meet her in Room Four,” Sonya said. “This one hasn’t been prepped yet.”

Hannah sagged against the sink, her hands still soapy, as she mentally blessed the vet tech for giving her time to compose herself. She quickly rinsed and splashed cold water on her face. Refastening her ponytail, she straightened her stethoscope, and after taking another breath, walked out the door and down the hall to Room Four.

She stopped in front of the closed door to grab the intake sheet out of the plastic holder before pasting a smile on her face. Twisting the knob, she walked in, saying, “Good morning, Adam. Hey, Trace.” Keeping her gaze on the big black dog, she went straight to him to scratch behind his ears and get a couple of slurps from his long pink tongue.

She finally worked up the nerve to glance at Adam. He stood on the other side of the table with his arms crossed and concern written on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head and turned back to the dog, tugging at the
end of the bandage wrapped around his chest. “How’s Trace been?”

“I saw you in the other room. Talk to me.”

Her eyes began to burn with tears, and she had to blink hard. “You’re here to see me as your dog’s veterinarian.”

He came around the table and gripped her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “What was the woman in the reception area talking about?”

She shrugged out of his grasp. “Something that happened in the past. It just caught me off guard.”

He muttered a curse under his breath. “No one left the waiting
room after the woman made her announcement. Not one person.”

“They wouldn’t dare with Estelle glaring at them,” Hannah said. She reached for Trace’s bandage again.

Adam caught her hand and held it. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Nothing. It’s over.” She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was unrelenting.

“It’s not over if that woman is talking about it.” He lifted his other hand to tip her chin up so she couldn’t escape his gaze. “You’ve helped me with Matt. Let me return the favor.”

There was so much kindness and caring in his eyes the tears threatened again. “You can’t help me. I euthanized a dog without informing the family who owned it.” She waited for Adam to look shocked or horrified.

“Knowing you, I have no doubt it was necessary,” he said.

Some dam inside her collapsed, and the story came spilling out. “Sophie was the sweetest old golden retriever you’d ever meet. The staff loved her. But, like so many goldens, she developed cancer. I’d been treating her for a month, trying to slow the cancer’s progress, but it was spreading everywhere. All I could do was give her pain meds to keep her comfortable.”

She leaned back against the counter, needing the anchor of something solid to keep her from being swept away into her past. “At Sophie’s last appointment, I told Mrs. Sawyer that Sophie’s pain was increasing, and I wouldn’t be able to control it much longer. As hard as it was to contemplate, she needed to consider euthanizing Sophie.”

Adam nodded, his attention centered on her.

Hannah wrapped her fingers around the edge of the counter as the scene grew more vivid in her mind. “I was flabbergasted when she said her family was about to leave for a two-week vacation, and she didn’t want to distress the children by putting their dog to sleep. I tried to make her understand that the dog her children loved so much would be in excruciating pain long before their vacation was over, but she wouldn’t even consider it.” She looked at Adam. “I didn’t want to upset her children, but Sophie was going to die, no matter what I did. I thought Mrs. Sawyer would want to spare her a slow, agonizing death.” Hannah shook her head, remembering her disbelief at the woman’s callousness toward the dog. It struck her that Adam had a child he might protect in the same way, and she bit her lip as she cast him a sideways glance.

He made a gesture of repudiation. “You know how I feel about children understanding the responsibilities of owning a pet. I love Matt, but I wouldn’t allow Trace to suffer for the sake of a vacation.” After seeing him with Trace, she should have known how he would respond.

“So they went on their family trip,” Adam prompted.

“I agreed to board Sophie because I wanted to make sure she got the best possible care.” She shoved away from the counter to pace around the small room. Trace lay down with his head on his paws, his ears swiveling to follow her. “Robert Sawyer brought Sophie in, probably because his wife was afraid to face me. I tried to reason with him, but he brushed me off as though I were an annoying insect.” Anger stiffened her spine as she remembered the man’s dismissal of her pleas on Sophie’s behalf. “I was so furious, I sent him out to the receptionist to fill out the form for boarding Sophie. She told me later that he refused to leave a cell phone number where we could contact him while he was away. He didn’t want his vacation disturbed.”

“Bastard,” Adam muttered under his breath.

“Yes!” She’d gotten more worked up than she realized. Pivoting on her heel, she walked back to where Trace lay on the table, stroking his sleek head to calm herself. “I did my best for Sophie. During the day, we put her bed in my office, so I could monitor her constantly. Whenever the staff members had free time, they’d go in and sit with her. She always greeted us with a wag of her tail and a lick on the hand.” She buried her fingers in Trace’s thick fur, drawing comfort from his warmth. “After two days, she couldn’t walk, so we had to carry her in and out. Even then, she’d wag her tail when she saw us. I dosed her with all the pain meds I could, but the third day, I gave her the lightest of strokes on her head and she whimpered. When one of the vet techs tried to take the soiled blanket out from under her, Sophie growled.” Hannah felt the tears spill down her cheeks as she remembered. “No one had ever heard Sophie growl before, so I knew the meds weren’t working anymore.”

She swiped the tears off her face with the sleeve of her lab coat. “I gave her sleeping pills, hoping that would give her a rest from the pain. Her eyelids would close for a few seconds, but then she would wake up with a moan. She’d gotten so thin her bones showed through her coat, which was long and thick. All the vet techs begged me to put an end to her suffering.”

She remembered the moment her conscience told her she couldn’t allow the sweet, faithful golden retriever to suffer any longer. She’d grabbed the intake form and gone to the phone herself, dialing the Sawyer’s home phone and then the office phone. Neither the housekeeper nor the administrative assistant would give her a way to contact the family, saying they had strict orders not to bother them on their vacation. The Sawyers’ staff was either very loyal or very intimidated. No amount of pleading would budge them.

“I tried to reach the family, but once it became clear I wouldn’t be able to, I wasn’t going to wait any longer. I got two vet techs to witness the injection.” She swallowed a sob. “I held her in my arms as she died, telling her what a great girl she was and how much she was loved, so much that her family didn’t want to let her go.”

“I don’t understand why you were blamed.” His hands were clenched in fists by his thighs.

She pulled a paper towel out of the nearby holder and swiped it over her cheeks. “The father was Senator Robert Sawyer. He didn’t want to look bad in front of his children, so he lied to them about leaving a cell phone number.”

“But you had the intake form.”

“That’s the thing. It disappeared.” She thought of the Xeroxed copy stashed away in her kitchen drawer. “I’d used it to make all the phone calls, and I couldn’t swear I’d put it back in the proper file…or in any file. I wasn’t that concerned about the paperwork at the time.”

“So Sawyer was a liar and a jerk. That shouldn’t drive you out of Chicago. Unless he sued.” Adam’s dark eyebrows slashed down with his frown.

“Worse. One of his kids talked about it on Twitter,” Hannah said. “The local weekly gossip sheet got hold of it, so the senator was forced to either stand by his story or admit he lied to his children. Guess which he chose?”

Adam paced a step away and back. “So he ruined your career in order to preserve his image.”

She shrugged. “He’s an important man who just wanted to have a pleasant time away with his family. I’m a heartless quack who doesn’t care about his children’s tender feelings.” She knew she sounded bitter, but she had no tolerance for the sense of privilege that valued an undisturbed vacation more than easing an animal’s profound pain.

Of course, she wasn’t going to tell Adam that her then-fiancé had jumped right on the bandwagon with Senator Sawyer as soon as he saw which way the wind was blowing. Being on the senator’s good side was more important to an up-and-coming politician than supporting his future wife. She stifled a gasp as the shock of Ward’s defection ripped through her all over again.