The Place I Belong (17 page)

“How do single mothers do it?” he muttered, pivoting on his heel and walking back toward the car. He leaned against the sleek fender, arms folded, and sank his chin to his chest as he returned to his first concern: Matt and Satchmo.

The kid couldn’t catch a break.

It was Adam’s fault. He selfishly wanted to keep his son with him when he wasn’t fit to be a father. As soon as he got back to the restaurant, he would tell his investigator to do a full background check on the McNallys. He owed it to Matt to find him someone who could handle things like dying ponies the way a competent parent should.

The clanging of a bell jerked him upright. He straightened away from the car and scanned the mass of kids pouring through the flung-open metal doors. Spotting Matt’s dark hair and green hoodie, he lifted a hand to catch his attention. His son’s expression went from laughter to surliness in a split second as Matt nodded curtly in acknowledgment of his father’s presence. Adam felt a jab of pain lance through his chest. He wasn’t going to make Matt’s mood any better.

“Did you have to bring this car?” Matt said, walking past his father to open the passenger door and fling his backpack into the back seat. “It’s like you’re showing off.”

Adam knew better than to apologize. Matt would have objected no matter which car he had driven. “I needed to get h
ere fas
t.”

“Because you were running late as usual,” Matt said, slamming the passenger door closed in Adam’s face.

Temper sparked at Matt’s rudeness, but Adam took a breath and walked with a measured step around the car’s hood. He opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat, wrapping his
fingers
around the steering wheel before he turned to look at h
is son.

Matt’s gaze was glued to his phone, his thumbs flying across the touch screen. Adam waited.

“Why are we sitting here?” Matt lifted his head to glare at his father. “I’m supposed to be at the stable.”

“Dr. Linden called. Satchmo’s taken a turn for the worse.”

The hostility in Matt’s blue eyes was swamped by a heartbreaking panic. “He’s not dying, is he?” the boy whispered.

“She’s doing everything she can to prevent that,” Adam said, not wanting to lie to his son.

Matt turned away to stare out the side window. He swallowed hard and his breath sounded ragged. Adam reached across to lay his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “You don’t have to go see him in this condition.”

His son whipped around, shrugging off Adam’s hand. The glare was back, heightened by the tears he was trying hard not to shed. “Did Dr. Linden say I couldn’t?”

“No. In fact—”

“Then I’m going.” Matt shifted in his seat so he was looking through the windshield. Adam punched on the ignition as he watched Matt blink repeatedly.

Putting the car in gear, Adam finished saying what he wanted his son to know. “Dr. Linden said it might help Satchmo if you were there.”

He felt the bitterness of Matt’s antagonism as his son snapped, “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“You didn’t give me a chance.”

Tension wound through the silence as Adam guided the car through the side streets to the highway.

“Dr. Linden really thinks I can help?” Matt asked, his voice husky.

“That’s what she said, but she didn’t want to put any pressure on you.”

Matt sucked in a breath but said nothing.

“She’s a highly skilled veterinarian,” Adam said. “She’ll do everything she can for Satchmo.”

“I know,” Matt said. His voice broke on a swallowed sob and Adam felt his heart twist. Not caring if he was rejected again, he took one hand off the steering wheel and gripped Matt’s thin shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“This sucks,” Matt said so softly Adam barely caught his
words.

“Yes, it does.” Adam gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze and brought his hand back to the wheel as the road bent into a hairpin turn. “It really sucks.”

Chapter 13

A
T FIVE THIRTY
, Hannah unlatched the door to Satchmo’s stall and stopped in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat. The pony was stretched out flat on the straw bedding, his head resting in the cradle of Matt’s crossed legs while the boy stroked down Satch’s neck. Matt’s gaze came up and a look of relief spread over his face. “Dr. Linden!”

A shadow stirred in the corner of the stall, materializing into Adam as he stood up, brushing straw off his black jeans. “We’re glad to see you. Satchmo seems to be getting weaker,” he said in a low voice.

The hope on Matt’s face dimmed.

Hannah knelt by the pony. “It’s good that you’re here,” she said to Matt. “He’ll want to get well for you.” Putting her stethoscope in her ears, she checked Satchmo’s heartbeat and breathing. Neither was strong. She ran her hands over the pony’s body and legs, watching for reactions that didn’t come.

“He’s not in pain,” she said, sitting back on her heels. “So that’s the good news.”

“Sharon says she’s been giving him all the medications you prescribed,” Adam offered.

She glanced up to see his gaze straying back to his son, who was now bent over Satchmo, murmuring something in the pony’s ear. The distress Adam felt on Matt’s behalf was clear in the tightness of his jaw.

“How long has he been lying down flat like this?” Hannah asked.

“He did it right after we got here,” Matt said. “I knew it was a bad sign.”

“About three-thirty, so for the last two hours,” Adam clarified, rubbing his hand over his jaw. As she watched his movement, a memory of that hand cupping her breast flashed through her mind, flushing her cheeks.

He must have read something of her thoughts in her expression because his gaze went hot and soft. Awareness rippled through her, making her fingers curl inward. Their eyes met and she saw the flicker of desire in his. She sucked in a breath.

Matt’s voice snapped her out of the trance Adam had drawn her into. “I sat down beside him and he rolled over and stretched out like this.”

“Maybe he just wanted to rest his head in your lap as a way to make contact,” Hannah said. “I’m going to go see Sharon about getting Satchmo some treats.” She skimmed her fingers over the back of Adam’s hand in a brief, silent communication, her fingertips glancing across the raised scars.

“We’ll be here,” Adam said, the tightness in his jaw returning as he looked at Matt.

Hannah was halfway to Sharon’s office when the horsewoman strode through the barn’s big door. “Hey, Doc, I heard you were here. How’s Satch?”

Hannah shook her head, and Sharon’s face fell.

“Can I raid your feed room to see if I can mix up something to tempt Satchmo’s appetite?” Hannah asked.

“Take anything you think will work,” Sharon said, leading her to the green-painted door and fitting a key into the lock. “The door locks itself when you pull it shut, so I’ll let you have my key in case you need to come back. We don’t want the critters getting into something they shouldn’t.”

Hannah stepped into the fragrant room filled with bags, wooden bins, and various plastic containers, all labeled in neat, square handwriting. Oats, corn, barley, molasses, dried vegetables and grasses, soybean meal, bran, vitamins, and various already concocted pellets were on offer. She swung open the refrigerator door to find carrots, apples, probiotics, and high-protein liquids.

“These horses eat better than I do,” she muttered, pulling out several containers and tossing the ingredients into a shallow, stainless-steel bowl she found on a shelf. She scooped out various grains and stirred everything around before she leaned down to sniff at her creation. “Maybe Satchmo has a sweet tooth.” She added some molasses and rolled the mixture into bite-sized balls before heading back toward the pony’s stall.

Adam waylaid her before she reached it, pushing away from the wall he’d been leaning against to take her elbow. He guided her back toward the feed room and into an empty stall well away from Satchmo’s. As soon as they were inside, he released her and closed the door before turning. “Is Satchmo dying?” His voice was raw.

“Not if I can help it,” she said, clutching the bowl against her stomach.

“But it’s possible.”

“If the EPM is advanced, it’s possible. But I won’t let him go without doing everything in my power to prevent it.”

“I know,” he said, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

She longed to offer him reassurance, but she couldn’t lie to him after the searing intimacy of the night before. Instead she reached up with one hand to smooth down the worst of his tousled hair, savoring the satin slide of it beneath her palm until she forced herself to step away from temptation.

One corner of his mouth turned up as he dragged his palms
over his hair in an unsuccessful attempt to neaten it further.
“
My fir
st boss used to yell at me for sticking my fingers in my hair when I was under pressure. It’s a bad habit for a chef.”

“It seems he didn’t break your habit,” she said, gripping the bowl to keep her hands away from him.

“He did,” he said, the half-smile winking out. “When I’m cooking.” He looked down at the horse food. “Is that something medicinal for Satchmo?”

“Medicinal? No, it’s meant to tempt him to eat.”

Adam picked up one of the balls and brought it to his nose, grimacing slightly as he inhaled. He broke off a piece and rubbed it between his fingers, testing the texture, before he let the crumbled bits fall into the straw bedding. “Hmm.”

“What does that mean?” Hannah picked up one of the lopsided balls and took a whiff. It didn’t smell as tantalizing as it had in the feed room.

“If you tell me what ingredients to put in it, I’ll see if I can make it more…enticing.” He took the bowl from her.

“You’re going to cook for a horse?” The thought reminded her it was late on Friday afternoon and he had a restaurant to run. “Don’t you need to be at work?” she asked, tugging on the bowl to take it back.

He held onto it. “My staff can handle it.” His words were confident, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m planning to stay with Satchmo,” she said. “I’ll keep an eye on Matt too.”

He snapped his gaze to hers. “My son is not going through this without me.”

She let go of the bowl. “You know, Matt’s got better luck with his father than you like to think.”

He raised his eyebrows at her in disagreement but made no comment. She scrabbled in her jacket pocket for the feed-
room key and held it out to him. “You can put anything in it
that’s natural. No vitamins and no protein supplements because Sharon has given those to him already.”

He wrapped his fingers around her extended hand and pulled her into him, releasing her to slip his free arm around her waist. “Thank you for last night. For being here today. For a generosity I don’t deserve.” He spoke in a low, husky voice that seemed to vibrate in her bones.

“You keep saying you don’t deserve things,” she said, leaning
back slightly to see his face. “I think you deserve more than most.”

His grip on her tightened and a spasm of denial twisted his mouth. “I have a lot to atone for first.” He kissed her forehead and let her go.

She wanted to protest the loss. The solid weight of his arm felt so good resting on her hips, while the warmth of his body beat back the chill of the barn. But she knew it was better not to allow herself to enjoy it. Her feelings about him were so confused she had no idea where to go with them.

He used the bowl to wave her through the stall door. “This will be a real test of my mettle as a chef,” he said, glancing down at its contents.

“I’ll explain to Satchmo just how expensive his meal would be if he had to pay for it.”

Adam bit off a laugh and headed for the feed room. Hannah slipped her hands into her pockets and watched him stride away, the dark color of his clothes creating the illusion that he was vanishing in the twilight interior of the barn.

She shook herself, trying to slough off the residual effect of his touch before she walked over to Satchmo’s stall.

“Any change?” she asked as she closed the stall door
behind her.

Matt shook his head, misery written all over his face. With one hand he kept up a rhythmic stroking down the pony’s neck, while his other hand cradled Satchmo’s head.

Hannah pulled out her stethoscope again, more to give Matt some reassurance that she was paying attention than anything else. Satch’s vital signs were unimproved. She sighed and folded the scope back into her pocket. “Your dad’s fixing something delicious to tempt Satchmo to eat. He didn’t think much of my feeble efforts at horse cuisine.”

“What does he know about horses’ tastes?” Matt scoffed. “He cooks for people.”

“I guess it’s the same principle,” Hannah said, settling herself into a more comfortable position on the straw beside the pony. “It should look good, smell good, and taste good. Do you think your father will actually taste it?” She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

That got a snort of laughter from Matt, and Satchmo’s leg twitched. The boy looked at Hannah hopefully. “He moved!”

“I guess he thinks your dad eating horse food is funny too.”

“Maybe we should talk normally instead of being quiet,” Matt said.

“Not a bad idea. A little liveliness might cheer Satch up. You go first.”

Matt thought for a moment before he asked, “What sort of stuff goes into horse food?”

“All kinds of natural things. Oats, barley, molasses, dried grasses, apples, carrots.”

“You hear that, Satch?” Matt said, bending over to speak into the pony’s ear. “Your favorite munchies. Mmm.” He smacked his lips for emphasis.

“You sound like a mother trying to get her baby to eat.” Hannah was amused.

Matt grinned. “Yeah, but it must work because mothers all do the same thing.”

His smile made her blink because it looked so much like Adam’s, with the dimple and the crinkle at the corners of the eyes. The cleft in Matt’s chin was softened by traces of youthful chubbiness but it would stand out like his father’s soon. She realized Matt didn’t smile much, which is why it still surprised her when she saw the startling resemblance.

The stall door creaked open and Matt’s face went blank as Adam slipped in with the bowl in the crook of his arm. “I tweaked Dr. Linden’s recipe somewhat, so let’s see what Satchmo thinks.” He walked over to Matt and set the bowl down beside him in the straw. “He’s more likely to take it from you than anyone else.”

The boy threw his father an unreadable glance before he reached into the bowl and drew out a perfectly formed ball flecked with bright-orange bits of carrot and golden apple chunks.

“That looks good enough for me to eat,” Hannah said, stretching out her arm to snag a treat ball. She brought it to her nose and looked up at Adam. “Definitely more appetizing.”

Matt held his about six inches from his nose and took a cautious sniff. Surprise registered on his face as he brought it up close and inhaled again. “It smells like trail mix,” he said. “Really good trail mix.”

Adam’s expression was a study in relief and pleasure. When Matt pinched off a bit and stuck it on the end of his tongue, he looked even more gratified, laughing out loud when his son spit it out in disgust. “It’s not meant for human taste buds.”

“I almost tasted it myself,” Hannah admitted, waving the fragrant morsel under her nose again. “However, I learned my lesson about pet food after sampling my cat’s Tuna Delight. It smelled like I could make a sandwich out of it but it tasted like sawdust.”

“Eww, you ate cat food?” Matt said, still picking bits of alfalfa off his tongue.

“You ate hay,” Hannah pointed out.

“You don’t want to know what I’ve eaten,” Adam said, squatting down between Hannah and Matt.

“Chocolate-covered bugs?” Hannah guessed.

“Perfectly normal and delicious,” Adam said. “I was thinking of burnt goat head with the teeth included. And corn smut.”

“Gross,” Matt grimaced. “What’s corn smut?”

“It’s a fungus that deforms corn kernels and turns them purple, but it makes a great sauce or soup flavoring,” Adam said.