The Place I Belong (4 page)

“Geez, what animal gets a needle that big?” Matt asked, watching as Hannah packed syringes into a carrying case for their farm patient visits.

“Cows. Horses. Hogs. It’s all calculated by weight.” Hannah latched the case. “You’ll see this afternoon.”

“What do you mean?” Matt eyed her with sudden disfavor just when she’d been congratulating herself on how well she was handling him.

“We’re doing large-animal calls after lunch. Country vets handle all shapes and sizes. You have something against cows?”

He shook his head but the blank façade was back in place.

“You knew this was an all-day visit, right?” she probed.

“Yeah.” He glanced away. “I just wasn’t expecting to tramp around in manure.”

She glanced down at his faded red high-tops. “I don’t think it’ll hurt your footwear any.”

He shrugged. Before she could figure out what his
latest
problem
was, Estelle came to the door of the supply room.
“
Mr. Bosc
h is here with quite a feast. He’s setting it up in
Dr. Tim
’s
office at the conference table.”

Hannah’s stomach growled at the thought of food, and Matt shot her a scowl as though she’d betrayed him somehow. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He shoved away from the counter he’d been lounging against and plunged his hands into his jeans pockets. “My father’s good at bribing people with food.”

“Last I heard that wasn’t illegal,” Hannah said.

Matt managed a very creditable sneer. “At least you can’t drink his fancy wine since you have to work after lunch.” He stalked out of the supply room, leaving Estelle to give Hannah a questioning look.

Hannah lifted her hands palm out in a “don’t ask me” gesture. “I wonder if he knows where he’s going,” she said, joining Estelle outside the door.

Matt had been paying more attention than Hannah realized because he headed unerringly for Tim’s office door. She was torn between amusement and pity when the boy stopped just outside it and rearranged his posture and his features to express total indifference.

“His father has his work cut out for him with that one,” Estelle murmured.

“I don’t get it. Why should he resent his father so much? Adam doesn’t seem like a bad guy. He loves his dog.” Hannah knew that wasn’t always an accurate gauge of a person’s worth, but if she’d used it to measure Ward, she wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. Her ex had merely tolerated her pets after they’d moved in together.

Estelle shook her head. “There’s a lot we don’t know about their history. And the boy’s mother just died. Grief often expresses itself in anger, especially in adolescents, as I learned in my teaching days. His father may just be the most convenient target.”

They both fell silent as they walked through the door. Sonya and Lucy were already there, goggling at what had once been a battered conference table but now could pass for a photo from a gourmet food magazine. A deceptively simple arrangement of exotic flowers in shades of burgundy and peach blazed in the center of a white linen tablecloth. Square plates of white china were nestled between clean, modern cutlery and tall, slender, glass tumblers.

Over it all hovered the shadowy presence of Adam Bosch, his hands moving at lightning speed as he finished dealing out the flatware and straightening a napkin. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled back to his elbow, so Hannah could see the flex of muscle and tendon beneath his olive skin.

“What have you done with Tim’s office?” Hannah asked to distract herself from her sudden fixation on Adam’s forearms.

He lifted his gaze to hers and smiled. This time it was genuine, not calculated, and it socked her in the gut. “Just a little stage setting so you can better enjoy the food,” he said.

The scent of something appetizing and well-spiced swirled past Hannah’s nostrils. “If the smell is anything to go by, we won’t have a problem with that.”

“Everyone please have a seat,” Adam said, pulling out one of the rolling wooden chairs. Tim refused to upgrade to more comfortable seating because he said hard seats kept meetings short and people awake.

Hannah did a quick survey. “There are only five place settings.”

“I’m the chef and your server,” Adam said, nodding toward the insulated bags arrayed on Tim’s big oak desk as he continued to hold the chair. “Mrs. Wilson?”

Estelle gave him a downright flirtatious thank you as she gracefully seated herself, and Adam moved her chair into place.

He moved to the next chair and slid it out. “Dr. Linden?”

She’d already washed her hands and shed her soiled lab coat, so Hannah had no excuse not to approach Adam Bosch. She walked slowly though, trying to tamp down her disquieting reaction to him. Nearing the chair, she couldn’t stop herself from taking note of the strong texture of his hair as it swept back from his face to curl over his collar. Up close his eyes revealed themselves as a rich, cognac brown rather than black. She forced herself to turn her back on him so she could sink onto the chair. His breath stirred the hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail and onto the nape of her neck. A delicious shiver slithered down her spine as he rolled her to the perfect distance from the table.

The other two ladies waited for him to seat them as well. Not that Hannah could blame them. Somehow his attention made her feel elegant and beautiful. Matt, of course, slouched into his chair with a hostile glare at his father.

Adam picked up a glass pitcher and poured what he said was iced tea into their glasses. Her first sip told her it was nothing like any iced tea she had tasted before. This version held flavors of caramel, cinnamon, and amaretto. She drank half the glass in one swooning gulp.

He wore a gratified smile as he refilled her glass. Surprise nipped at her when she realized her appreciation gave him pleasure. With his success and reputation, she would have thought amateur admiration wouldn’t mean much to him.

She glanced across the table, catching Matt staring down at his lap, undoubtedly at his cell phone. Not wanting him to get in trouble with his father, she said the first thing she could think of to draw him into the conversation. “Matt, what was the joke
Mr. Cahill’
s parrot told you? I missed the punch line.”

The boy started and tried to cover up his inattention by grabbing his glass and taking a swig. “Um, it was kind of inappropriate.”

“Knowing Bernie Cahill, that doesn’t surprise me,” Sonya said. “Go ahead, Matt. We can handle it.”

Color washed up Matt’s cheeks, and Hannah came to his rescue. “That’s okay. I can never remember jokes anyway.” She worried about just how inappropriate the parrot’s joke had been.

“I heard a good one last week,” Lucy said. “A fellow was
driving
along a country road and spotted an exotic bird flying
overhead. The creature was black, with a huge red-and-gold beak.
‘Hey, look! A toucan!’ he yelled. ‘Toucan nothin’,’ said his passenger. ‘It’s a crow with its beak stuck in a McDonald’s fries carton.’ ”

Relief made Hannah laugh out loud and she threw Lucy a grateful glance just as a plate of exquisitely arranged greenery appeared in front of her. Adam was breezing around the table with plates of salad balanced all the way up his arm. He plucked them off and served them one at a time with his free hand. It was an amazing feat of coordination and concentration, yet he accomplished it with smiling ease before he stepped back to say, “Kale-apple salad with pancetta and maple vinaigrette. The kale is from our greenhouse, picked this morning. The apples are the last from The Aerie’s orchard.
Bon appétit
!”

He cast a quick glance over the table before moving back to Tim’s desk. Hannah forgot about her salad as she watched him flip open several bags to unpack covered plates at high speed. He arranged them on the desk before he pulled storage containers from the bags and began to add to each plate’s contents. His movements were fluid and economical; his concentration total.

“Oh my goodness, this is unbelievably delicious.” Sonya’s exclamation yanked Hannah’s attention back to the table.

“I never thought I could like a salad this much,” Lucy agreed, chewing with her eyes closed.

Hannah snatched her fork up and jabbed it through a slice of apple and a leaf of what she assumed was kale. She cast a surreptitious glance at Adam to find a smile playing around his lips as he continued his preparations. He was definitely not immune to their praise. That made her like him more, rather than less.

She put the bite of salad in her mouth and felt a burst of flavors on her tongue. Adam’s minimalist description did not begin to encompass all that had gone into the dish.

“You seem surprised.” His voice came from right beside her and held an undercurrent of amusement.

“It’s, well, it’s more than a salad. You’ve done something
to it
.”

He nodded and the amusement showed in his eyes. “That’s a good way of describing most gourmet cooking.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before but it’s extraordinary,” Hannah said as she lifted another forkful to her lips.

“I’ve also heard it’s extraordinarily awful,” he said with a
wry smi
le.

“I can’t imagine that,” Estelle said, dabbing the corner of her mouth with her linen napkin. “Not only would it be untrue, it would be rude to say such a thing.”

“Ah, but food critics aren’t being rude, they are being discerning,” Adam said.

“Saving our less-developed palates from the assault of terrible
dishes like this one.” Hannah pointed at the plate with her fork.

Adam’s voice held mock sorrow. “You sound like one of them. That’s not a wig you’re wearing to disguise your true identity as a secret diner, is it?”

Her hand went up to her sloppy ponytail, and suddenly she wished she had taken the time to remove the elastic and brush out her hair. She noticed Sonya had done so, her long, dark hair falling in glossy waves around her shoulders. “If I were going incognito, I’d come up with a better-looking wig than this one.”

He shook his head. “It’s beautiful, like corn silk.”

She slanted a peek up at him, thinking it was some sort of chef joke, but he was assessing her hair with focused seriousness. When she brought her gaze back to her dining companions, Sonya gave her an encouraging nod and Estelle raised her
eyebrows
with a prim little smile.

“You can assault my palate again if you have another one of these,” Sonya said, chasing the last leaf around her plate with determination.

Adam turned to whisk the empty plate from in front of the vet tech. “I see it’s time for the next course.”

Relief and regret washed through Hannah as she quickly finished her salad. Adam’s attention was becoming too addictive; she didn’t want to feel so pleased by his description of her hair. It had sounded sincere, but so had Ward’s compliments and she’d found out how little they meant. When Adam cleared her plate, she deliberately kept her eyes averted from his hands.

“Dr. Linden, how does Mr. Cahill’s parrot decide what to say?” Matt’s question was a godsend.

“Well, when it comes to telling jokes, I think Mr. Cahill cues him, either verbally or with a gesture. Otherwise I think Pappy responds to the words and body language of the people around him. If he says something and you react in a way Pappy likes, he’ll repeat that in a similar situation.”

“So you don’t think he knows what he’s saying?” Matt seemed disappointed.

“Not really, no,” Hannah said. “His brain hasn’t developed in that way.”

“Do you think dolphins can understand human language?”

“There’ve been some interesting studies that seem to indicate they could learn at least some, but I don’t know enough about their brains to be sure. Why?”

“It would be cool if we could talk to them,” Matt said.

“Sometimes I think we should try to learn
their
language instead,” Adam said, startling her. She thought he was busy with the food, but his son’s voice seemed to have drawn him back to the table. “Their experiences and perceptions would be
fascinating
.”

“They just use a bunch of clicks and squeaks,” Matt scoffed. “We’d never be able to figure that out.”

“So you think we’re dumber than dolphins?” Hannah interjected to keep Adam from becoming a target.

“Maybe.” Matt slumped back in his chair and went silent again. Adam waited a moment, his eyes on his son, before he turned back to the food on the desk.

Hannah wondered what had caused Matt’s sudden burst of conversation. She was glad he wanted to join in, but his topic seemed oddly arbitrary. “What would you ask a dolphin if you spoke the same language?”

Matt shrugged. “I dunno.”

“I’d ask them if they could talk to whales,” Lucy said.

“I’d warn them to stay away from fishing nets,” Estelle
commented
.

Matt sat up. “If they’re so smart, you’d think they would have figured that out by now.”

Hannah saw Adam’s movements slow as he listened to the conversation. This time he did not attempt to join in.

“Maybe they just swim too fast to avoid them,” Hannah said.

“But they use echolocation,” Matt said. “They should be able to hear where they are.”

“I guess nets are hard to spot with sonar,” Sonya said.

Plates appeared in front of the diners as Adam did his smooth tango around the table again. He finished and stepped back. “Brook trout over apple-parsnip puree with an apricot Grenobloise. My local supplier delivered the trout five minutes before I grilled it.”

The fragrance wafting up from the steaming dish in front of her made Hannah groan with appreciation. “Who needs to eat? I’m just going to sit here and inhale.”

Adam wore his practiced smile, but his attention was on Matt. His son’s opinion was the one he cared about. Hannah took up her own fork and flaked off a bite of trout as she surreptitiously watched the two Bosch males. The smile moved all the way up into Adam’s eyes when Matt seized his fork and shoveled up a mouthful of fish and parsnips.