Healing Hearts

by Watters, Kim

  Gillian must have seen her expression. “Hey, look. I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to offend you. We’re always trading clothes. Since these things were too small for both of us we thought you’d like them, but if you don’t want them, that’s okay. I’ll donate them to the church rummage sale.”

  Hurt flashed through Gillian’s eyes. In that instant, Sarah realized Grant’s sisters were only trying to help, not make fun of her. And Sarah had thrown their generosity back in Gillian’s face. When was she going to learn that the Morrison’s weren’t like any other family she’d ever encountered? That their actions were sincere, based on kindness, not out of spite or malice?

  She swallowed her pride and managed with as much grace as she could muster, “No, I’m not offended. I’m sure they’re beautiful things. Better than I could afford at the thrift store. Thanks. I’ll get a lot of use out of them.”

  Retreating back to the clinic with the bag in hand, Sarah’s heart almost burst. Maybe the time had come to let go of the past, and embrace the present and all Grant and his family had to offer—if Grant could quit thinking about her as his assistant. The idea scared her, and excited her at the same time.

  “What did Gillian want?” Grant appeared in the doorway of his office, his hair unkempt as if he’d been running his fingers through it trying to solve a problem. Sarah ached to set it back in place, but her newfound emotions were too raw to contemplate such an action.

  “She stopped by to give me some things,” Sarah whispered, overcome by a fierce passion. She’d fallen in love with not only Grant, but his entire family as well. The family she’d always wanted. The family that had always been just out of reach. Maybe she’d finally found them.

  Then she did something she hadn’t done for a long time. She bent her head and cried. For years she’d buried her emotions deep. Nobody had ever paid attention before, nobody had ever cared, nobody had ever given her a reason to—until Grant and his family.

  Grant sprung from the doorway. “Hey! What’s wrong?” He gathered Sarah in his arms, surprised and encouraged when she didn’t stiffen at the contact. Cradling her head in the crook of his shoulder, he rocked her gently as her tears saturated his lab coat. “Shhh. Everything’s okay.”

  But everything wasn’t okay. Grant knew that as soon as he put his arms around her again. The feelings she’d evoked since he’d met her came crashing back with such force, Grant was breathless.

  The fierce desire to protect Sarah overwhelmed him. What had his aunt said about him saving the world? Right now, he only wanted to save Sarah from whatever demons plagued her.

  He knew she’d grown up without a family, but there was still so much mystery about her. Too much he didn’t know but wanted to. If only she’d let him in. Gently, he rubbed the small of her back and caressed the top of her head with his cheek until Rocky wedged his way in between them, silencing his questions.

  Grant released Sarah and moved away when she sank to the floor and buried her face into the dog’s coat, her fingers grasping at the fur. Rocky managed to wriggle around until he could lick the moisture from her cheeks. For a moment, Grant stood there, unsure of what to do. He wanted to comfort her, but to his disappointment, she wanted her dog, not him.

  As Sarah’s tears subsided, fierce hiccups racked her body. “Here.” He handed her a tissue he’d retrieved from Aunt Mary’s desk. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

  He returned with a cool cup of water and watch with impatient fascination as she drank. The slender arch of her neck was made for kissing, her hair the right texture to weave his fingers through, and her body soft and pliable to mold against his. An ache to hold her again shot through him.

  “Thanks. I—I’m sorry. I owe you an explanation.” Her throaty voice encircled him and drove him to the edge. One more step and he’d be beyond saving. “I’m not used to such kindness. When I was in one of my foster homes they used to give me things when the social worker visited. Then, once they left, they would take them back and give them to their own children, while I got nothing but unwanted leftovers.”

  No matter how much Grant wanted to know, he wasn’t ready for her story. The truth knifed him in the gut. “What?”

  He tilted her head back and gazed into her eyes filled with hurt and longing. As he brushed away the remaining tears, the comment she’d made weeks ago finally made sense. “So that’s why it’s so hard for you to accept things. Don’t worry. No one’s ever going to take anything away or make you feel bad again.”

  He wanted to kiss her, to chase away her hurt, her fears, but he knew it wouldn’t be a light peck on the lips, and his next appointment would be in any minute. Not only was Mrs. Huebner punctual, she was also his aunt’s best friend and another busybody.

  “Hi, stranger,” her neighbor greeted her Thursday afternoon as Sarah locked her bike to the lamppost outside their apartment building.

  “Hi, Lorraine. How are you?” Sarah grabbed a bag of groceries from the basket, feeling a little guilty. She hadn’t spoken to her friend all week. Not even to thank her for walking Rocky last weekend.

  Lorraine, like herself, came from the Bay area and was another outsider to Greer, which probably explained why they got along so well. Friendships were hard for Sarah to establish anyway, and doubly hard in such a close-knit community.

  “I’m fine. I finally dumped that creep, Tyson. Here, let me help you.” Lorraine pulled out the other bag and settled it on her hip. “When do I get to meet your man? Where’ve you been hiding him, and does he have any single friends?”

  Sarah shifted in her jean jacket. She’d never mentioned Grant to Lorraine. Her friend must have seen him drop her off last night with her pile of new clothes. But rides, a few dinners, and meeting his family didn’t mean a thing. He hadn’t shown any interest in her, at least not in the way portrayed in the movies. “He’s not my man, he’s my boss.”

  “Honey, what planet do you come from?” Lorraine tapped her on the shoulder with her long, acrylic nail. “Any man who brings his employee home after work, and helps her with her dog is more than a boss. He’s nuts about you; I can see it in his eyes, even from a distance. And that is just what I’m looking for. Now let’s get inside so I can see that big, gold, hunk of male Rocky again. Maybe he’s got a single friend, too.”

  As Lorraine led the way up the three flights of stairs, Sarah followed perplexed. What did Lorraine mean that Grant was nuts about her? He certainly hadn’t given any indication of it.

  Or had he?

  Sarah slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Rocky barreled into her, glad to see her even though she’d been gone less than an hour. “Hi, Sweetie. I missed you, too.” She rubbed his favorite spot behind his ear with her free hand. “Look who’s here to see you. Now let me put these things away. I have a treat for you.”

  “Hello, Rocky.” Her neighbor managed to set the bag down on the floor inside the door before he jumped all over her. “How’s my big boy?”

  Setting her bag on the counter, Sarah went to retrieve Lorraine’s, knowing she’d be occupied with Rocky for a while. Maybe she should convince her friend to go to the no-kill shelter and find a pet for herself. Since Rocky had come into her life, things had definitely improved.

  “So, what’s he like?” Lorraine joined her in the tiny kitchen, Rocky at her heels. Sarah pulled out the rawhide bone from the bag and handed it to him. Rocky immediately sat down and began chewing away.

  “Who? Grant?”

  “Aha. So he has a name.”

  “Of course. Grant Morrison. My boss.” Though even to her ears, those last two words didn’t sound very convincing. “He’s kind and gentle and—”

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Having finished putting the groceries away, Sarah whirled around to find Lorraine blocking her path into the other room, a frown on her face. Sarah hung her head, her honest answer barely more than a whisper. “Yes.”

  “That’s better. What are
you going to do about it?”

  “There’s nothing to do. No matter what you think, Grant doesn’t see me that way.”

  Lorraine stepped out of her way as Sarah ran to the bathroom, but appeared behind her as she stared at herself in the mirror. “Why should he? My hair is too messy, my face is too pale, my eyes are too wide, my lips too thin. And these freckles…” Sarah tried to scrub them off with a towel. “No wonder Grant doesn’t look at me. I’m a freak.”

  “That’s not what I see.” As Lorraine gathered Sarah’s hair so it appeared to be shoulder length, Sarah stared, transfixed. The style suited her. “With a decent haircut and a little makeup, you’d stop traffic, girl. Didn’t anyone ever show you how to primp?”

  Sarah shook her head. She supposed if she’d wanted, one of her foster mothers might have explained things to her, but it hadn’t been important then. And when she lived on the streets, a meal, a warm place to live, and staying out of jail were all she had time to think about.

  But that was in the past. She’d wanted to make a change in her life, that’s why she settled in Greer. She was in school to better her education, so why not better her looks while she was at it. She only had to ask. Swallowing her fear, she met Lorraine’s gaze in the mirror. “Can you show me?”

  “You bet. You know, when I get done with you, Grant won’t be able to keep his paws off you. He’ll be another Rocky, slobbering all over you.”

  Comparing Grant to her dog alarmed her. Rocky never judged any of Sarah’s actions, whether she was mad, upset, or happy. It had taken time, but she’d figured out that Rocky’s love had no conditions no matter what she did, or had done before she found him. Would Grant be so understanding? “I’ve got a past I’m sure he wouldn’t be too happy about.”

  “If Grant’s the kind of man I think he is, he doesn’t care about what you did, only what you do now. So let’s take a look at your clothes.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Sarah sighed silently as she walked back to the main room. “Most of my clothes are in the closet, but there’s a bag of stuff on the bed.

  Lorraine plopped down on Sarah’s daybed and pulled out a cream-colored blouse that Gillian had given her. “Honey, where did you get these things?” Next she held up a matching navy-blue suit with gold buttons down the front, then a short, black, tight skirt.

  Sarah had avoided looking through the bag. She’d just moved it from the daybed to the floor, then back to the daybed when she left for work today. From what she could see, the clothes were gorgeous. Much better than anything she’d ever owned. “Grant’s sisters gave them to me. I haven’t had much time to go through them.”

  As much as Sarah tried, she couldn’t keep the edge from her voice even though she thought she’d come to terms with Gillian’s gesture. Accepting things and reaching out were still hard for her to do, but she had to try. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “Look, Sarah. I don’t know much about your past, and I won’t ask any questions, but there is nothing wrong with accepting help from other people, whether it’s emotional, financial, or clothes. Take me for example.” Her laughter filled the studio apartment. “I’m always looking for a willing ear or someone to lean on. A person can’t do everything by themselves. Now, I’m free tonight. Come over and I’ll cut your hair and show you how to doll yourself up. Then we’ll watch a chick flick while I paint your nails. I’ve got a new color that will look great on you. When I’m done, Grant won’t know what hit him!”

  At her silence, Lorraine questioned, “That is what you want, isn’t it?”

  A cloud of confusion washed over her. Sarah wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore. Did she really want a solitary life, depending on or needing no one?

  No.

  The answer startled her.

  She wanted Grant to notice her, and hold her tight and love her for what she was.

  Chapter Nine

  Sarah heard the faint meowing over the steady drizzle of cold rain Friday morning. Pulling the collar of her coat tighter around her neck, she leaned her bike against the dumpster in the parking lot behind the clinic and followed the sound, Rocky at her side.

  The high-pitched meow seemed softer now, more pitiful, more desperate, as she searched for the source. “Where are you, kitty?”

  The garbage bin was empty, as was the drainpipe and the discarded cardboard box nearby.

  At five in the morning, the only light available shone from the pole overhead. She wished she had a flashlight, or at least the headlight from her bike, but the batteries had died again on her way to the clinic this morning. Grant wouldn’t be too happy if he knew she’d ridden most of the way in the dark, but she was a big girl and had taken care of herself most of her life.

  The thought of Grant brought a smile to her lips despite the rain, which in the past few minutes had turned to a steady downpour. The heavy drops plastered her hair to her head and she had no doubt her new mascara was running down her cheeks. So much for her new look, but that was the least of her problems. She had to find the kitten.

  “Where do you suppose he is Rocky?” He cocked his head as he looked at her, his ears raised ever so slightly in an inquisitive sort of way. Sarah swore he understood everything she said to him as she reached out to his wet head. “Can you find the kitty?”

  Some scent or sound must have caught his attention because he darted off, nose to the ground, straight to the back door of the clinic. A shoebox with holes punched in the top had been left off to the side.

  “Good boy.” Sarah knelt down, almost afraid to open the rectangular box, but Rocky pawed at the top. From inside, Sarah heard the pitiful moan of the kitten. Gently, she lifted the lid to reveal a tiny fluff or orange half hidden in an old scrap of material. “You poor thing.”

  She reached in and stroked its head. The kitten cried out again. Rocky stuck his head in the box and sniffed the scrawny bundle of fur, his nose almost as big as the kitten’s head. Then to Sarah’s surprise, he began to lick it. The kitten meowed feebly.

  Sarah’s tears mingled with the rain. Someone had abandoned the kitten. She knew exactly how the little animal felt to be left alone and frightened, wondering what was going to happen next.

  Memories of the day the State stepped in surfaced. For a week, she’d been living alone in that two-room mobile home, eating stale bread and cold beans. She’d even managed to get herself to school because it hadn’t been uncommon for her mom to disappear for a day or two. Except this time, she never returned, and it took the overburdened State days to find her.

  Mrs. White had done her best to take care of her and console her, but even her neighbor couldn’t stop the social worker from ripping Sarah from her arms and transporting her to a strange neighborhood and family. And that hadn’t happened just once, but six times, not counting the times she’d run away and been brought back by the police.

  She shuddered as a cold drop of rain slid under her collar and chilled her skin. Sarah would make sure this tiny fella wouldn’t experience anything quite as dramatic. As carefully as possible, she opened her jacket and shirt underneath and bundled it against her. Then she went to retrieve the keys and open the back door.

  Once inside, she had no clue what to do. Removing her jacket, she pulled the kitten from beneath her shirt and placed it on the examining table. The poor thing sat huddled, shivering from the cold. Immediately, Sarah picked it up and took it to the back sink where she proceeded to give it a warm bath, then toweled it dry. Upon closer inspection, she figured the kitten couldn’t be more than a few weeks old.

  And very hungry.

  She rummaged around in the tiny refrigerator looking for some milk, but came up empty handed. All she could find was a half-empty carton of creamer, so she diluted it with water and placed the saucer in front of her new charge.

  The kitten sniffed at the liquid and turned away. Sarah ran to the bin where they kept cat food for the resident stray out back Grant hoped to trap and spay, and set a few bits on the table. Nothin
g. She even placed the food into the cream, but the kitten just stared at her.

  Tears formed in her eyes again. If she couldn’t get the kitten to eat, then it would die. And it would be all her fault just as everything always had been in her youth. It didn’t matter that she was a scared and lonely child, lost in a system supposed to provide for her. In every foster family, Sarah had been the scapegoat, the troubled one.

  Clenching her hands into fists, Sarah shook her head to dispel those thoughts. She was not that helpless child anymore. Nor would she let her self-doubts overcome the years of self-discipline and her new-found confidence. She had to do something. And that something meant calling in sick to the restaurant so she could help the abandoned kitten. Then remembering Lorraine’s advice from yesterday, she called Grant before she lost her nerve.

  Startled from sleep, Grant could barely find the phone on the nightstand next to his bed. “This better be good,” he mumbled to himself. The clock read 5:15 and Max and Matilda shifted from their sleeping positions at the foot of the bed.

  “Morrison here.”

  “Grant? Did I wake you?” Sarah’s voice at the other end of the line woke him instantly.

  “Is something wrong?” He sat up in bed, displacing one of his cats who occupied the other pillow.

  “No, not really. The animals are fine. Rocky’s fine. It’s…” He heard the hesitation in her voice. “I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll deal with it. Bye.”

  “Sarah, wait.” The dial tone buzzed in his ear. He vaulted out of bed and headed straight for the shower, his morning jog on hold. He knew enough about Sarah to know the world could be ending before she’d ask anyone for help.

  He arrived at the clinic in record time, glad Greer’s finest were probably eating. Charging through the back door, he stopped short, surprised to see Sarah bent over the examining table cooing softly. Shouldn't she have already left for the diner? Rocky sat patiently by her side, his tail thumping against the linoleum floor.