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The Place I Belong

Page 2

by Nancy Herkness


  “Do you have a minute to sit down?” Hannah asked, waving to the two comfortable new armchairs in front of her handsome teak desk. The furniture, which she’d ordered at Tim’s insistence, had arrived two days before. She had to admit it was nice not to have a mismatched set of his castoffs anymore.

  Hannah came around the desk and sat in the other chair, wishing she could emulate the elegance of the silver-haired receptionist. While Estelle wore ladylike black pumps with her stylish lavender pantsuit, Hannah had on her standard office attire of khaki slacks, green polo shirt, and running shoes—the same thing her boss usually wore in the office. That thought made her smile inwardly. Tim was a foot and a half taller and weighed at least a hundred and fifty pounds more than she did. They didn’t much resemble each other except in their concern for their patients. “I got myself into something I don’t know how to get out of.”

  Estelle’s gaze sharpened. “I’ll see if I can help.” She perched on the edge of one chair, back straight, ankles crossed. “Mr. Bosch invited you to dinner and you accepted?”

  It had become something of a joke around the veterinary hospital that the town of Sanctuary had decided Hannah needed a boyfriend. For the past month, they had equipped the single males of the town with various creatures in more or less need of medical attention and sent them in when Hannah was working. She had a soft heart, even when it came to humans, so turning them down wasn’t easy for her. Estelle had taken to telling her whether her next patient’s owner was married or single, so she could prepare herself.

  “I wish it were that simple.”

  “That’s a shame, because he owns The Aerie. It’s the fancy restaurant on top of Two Creek Mountain. People come in by helicopter to eat there.”

  Hannah had come to Sanctuary, West Virginia, to escape “fancy” so she wasn’t tempted.

  Estelle shocked her by adding, “He’s quite handsome too.”

  “But he has a son!” Hannah exclaimed.

  Estelle nodded. “Matt. His mother drowned about four months ago, leaving the boy to Adam’s custody.”

  Hannah rocked back in her chair. “His mother just died? This is worse than I thought.” That meant Adam was dealing with the death of his wife on top of his son’s intractability. No wonder he was grasping at straws when it came to his child. “Is that why Adam was wearing black? He’s in mourning for his wife?”

  “Oh, they weren’t married, dear,” Estelle said. “The boy’s last name is McNally. His mother was Irish. He’d never been to Sanctuary before she died.”

  Now Adam appeared to be a cold-hearted charmer who seduced women with his handsome face and silver tongue and left them to face the consequences alone. It reminded her of Ward’s desertion. Hannah pulled her thoughts up abruptly. After what she had been through in Chicago, she should know better than to judge someone without knowing all the facts of the situation. Still it was hard not to think less of him, knowing he had avoided any parental duties until he had no choice in the matter. It explained his problems with his son.

  Now she was convinced he needed a therapist, not a veterinarian, to deal with them. She considered her own dilemma, which had gone from bad to worse with this news. Her heart hurt for everyone involved. “According to Adam, his son deliberately let Trace outside, even though he knew it was hunting season. Adam wants Matt to understand that animals have feelings and significance, so he asked me to let the kid shadow me. Tomorrow.” Hannah rubbed her palms over her thighs as the idea of having a grief-stricken, thirteen-year-old boy by her side for an entire day made her break out in a cold sweat. She didn’t want to add to the poor kid’s problems.

  “And I thought it was just Dr. Tim everyone told their troubles to while he was taking care of their animals,” Estelle said, shaking her head. “That’s more than I’ve heard of Adam Bosch admitting to anyone before. He usually keeps himself to himself.”

  “I know I agreed to take the kid tomorrow, but do you think I could put him off until Tim gets back?” Hannah pleaded as panic set in. “Wouldn’t it be better for the boy to have a male bonding experience?”

  “Dr. Tim won’t be back for ten days, which leaves the dog in danger a long time.”

  Hannah slumped in defeat. “How did I get myself talked into this?”

  “Well, he’s a very charming man. Not to mention those smoldering good looks.”

  “I liked him better when he was genuinely upset over his dog than when he turned on the charm.” She was bothered by the fizz of awareness she’d felt. She should know better. “It seemed fake.” Ward had done the same thing, using his charisma like a weapon, turning it off and on at will.

  “I suppose it might be a skill he uses professionally,” Estelle allowed, her lips pursed. “He caters to some very demanding, high-powered customers so perhaps he’s cultivated it beyond what’s natural to him, but I find him well-mannered and pleasant.”

  “Hmm.” Hannah didn’t want to discuss Adam any longer because the topic kept conjuring up comparisons with her ex. “Do you know anything more about Matt? If I can’t avoid my day with him, I might as well prepare myself.”

  “Nothing of significance, but I still have friends in the school system so I’ll make inquiries and pass any information along first thing in the morning.” Before her retirement Estelle had taught virtually everyone—and often their children as well—in the town of Sanctuary.

  “Anything you can find out would be appreciated,” Hannah said. She grimaced. “Sorry you had to stay late for all this drama.”

  “My husband knows when to put the casserole in, and it won’t hurt him any to set the table himself every now and then.” Estelle stood and walked to the door, where she hesitated. “If Adam Bosch offered to cook for me, I’d take him up on it,” she said before she walked out of the office.

  “I’ll see how lunch is first,” Hannah muttered. She hadn’t mentioned the bribe of dinner at The Aerie to Estelle because she didn’t have anyone to take there. She had no intention of raising the hopes of any of the town’s bachelors by inviting one of them, and it seemed pathetic to go by herself. She knew The Aerie’s style because she’d attended political fundraisers with Ward at places like it; it was one of those restaurants where a meal stretched to three hours and involved a different wine with each course. You needed a companion—preferably one you liked a great deal—for that kind of dinner.

  Now she had to do some fast research on thirteen-year-old boys. She glanced at her stainless-steel wristwatch. There was time to make a call before she headed home to feed her dogs and cats. Hannah’s aunt Carolyn had teenaged sons; she should have some helpful hints. She slid her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.

  “Hannah! When are you coming down here to visit? We missed seeing you this summer!” Carolyn said, her Texas twang belting through the receiver.

  Hannah winced. Last summer she’d been mired in the scandal that had ended her engagement and her veterinary career in Chicago. “I just started a new job, so I won’t have a vacation for a while.”

  “What about Thanksgiving? They can’t work you the whole weekend.”

  “I’m on duty the day before and the day after,” Hannah said. She would be happy to work the holiday itself, but Tim closed the practice, and his wife, Claire, insisted she join them for Thanksgiving dinner. “I called to ask your advice.”

  “I love giving advice. Who is he?”

  “Matt McNally.”

  “Nice name. Tell me all about him.” Carolyn’s voice quivered with excitement.

  “He’s thirteen.”

  “Thirteen?! Honey, I know you got burned by Ward but you shouldn’t go around cradle-robbing.”

  “Funny,” Hannah said, but her lips twitched into a smile. Carolyn could always cheer her up. “Listen, I promised to let this kid follow me around at work all day tomorrow so he won’t let his father’s dog outside during hunting season
. His father wants it to be a sort of object lesson in the importance of animals. So I need to know what to do with the kid.”

  “First, let’s go back to his father. Is he married or divorced and would you kick him out of bed?”

  “He’s single now. I don’t know about his marital history other than that. As for the other question, I wouldn’t let him in my bed. He’s got that slick, smiling kind of charm that reminds me of Ward.” She found herself not wanting to share the more tragic parts of Adam and Matt’s story; it seemed too much like gossiping.

  “Not every charming man is a snake like your ex, you know,” Carolyn said. “Unless he’s also a politician.”

  “No, this one owns a very fancy restaurant up on a mountain.”

  “Are you talking about The Aerie?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Because it’s world famous, honey child, and we keep up with things like that in Texas. Besides, I know you work in Sanctuary, West Virginia, and that’s where The Aerie is.” The fervor was back in Carolyn’s voice. “Adam Bosch is the owner and he’s a hunk and a half. They profiled him as one of the great restaurateurs on television a couple of years ago. I’ve been begging Kevin to take me there ever since.”

  “You two can have my bribe then. For taking the kid on, I get a dinner for two gratis. It’s all yours.”

  “Tempting, but I have a better idea. You go with the chef himself. After all, I’m happily married.”

  “You won’t be for long if you keep calling chefs ‘hunks and a half’,” Hannah observed. “Forget about the father. Help me out with the son. What do I do with him?”

  “Well, let’s see, he’s going to hate you for ruining his Saturday, so he’ll be disagreeable and uncooperative. Probably monosyllabic. I suggest you handle him like you would a particularly difficult cat.”

  Relief flooded Hannah. She understood cats. “I can do that. Thank you.”

  “I told you I’m good at advice. And now I’m going to give you some about Matt’s father. You should buy yourself some black lace—”

  “Sorry, I have to go. Someone just came in and all the dogs are barking. Talk to you soon!” Hannah punched the disconnect button and grinned as Carolyn’s number showed up on her incoming calls screen after a few seconds. She dropped the ringing phone in her pocket as she left her office. She couldn’t wait to get home to the uncomplicated affection of her three dogs and two cats.

  “Stay!” Adam commanded as he opened the back of his SUV to find Trace standing in the nest of blood-stained blankets with an eager look on his face. He wanted to ease the dog out of the car so as not to reopen the wound. “Let me give you a hand, boy.” He put his arms under Trace’s belly before bracing himself to lift a hundred-plus pounds of dog and gently lower him to the river stones paving his driveway. “Heel.”

  Trace took up position beside Adam’s left thigh and fixed his gaze on his master, awaiting the next command. Relief that his dog was all right overwhelmed Adam, and he knelt in front of the big black Shepherd, scratching him in all his favorite spots.

  He’d bought Trace when he moved to his isolated home in Sanctuary, thinking the fearsome-looking creature would deter any would-be burglars. Much to his surprise, the dog had become devoted to him, and Trace’s unwavering, nonjudgmental love had worked its way into the darker corners of Adam’s soul, dispelling some of the bleakness he could no longer drown with alcohol.

  “Thank God I didn’t lose you,” he said, burying his face in the dog’s thick ruff.

  As he absorbed the comfort of Trace’s presence, Adam felt guilty about his initial abruptness toward Dr. Linden. He’d been so taken aback to encounter a pretty blonde who appeared to be about eighteen years old, rather than the confidence-inspiring bulk of Dr. Tim, that his manners had deserted him. Yes, he’d been upset about Trace, but that was no excuse for his behavior. He could keep his cool in a kitchen serving eighty demanding customers a nine-course meal. Certainly, one female veterinarian shouldn’t be more than he could manage.

  In his own defense, Dr. Linden hadn’t been especially cordial. However, when she focused on Trace, the concern on her face had quelled his irritation at her brusque manner toward him. It wasn’t treatment he was accustomed to, and he had to laugh at himself for being offended. “I’m getting swelled up with my own self-importance,” he said, ruffling Trace’s fur.

  What had fascinated him were her strange moments of stillness, when she had simply stared at Trace. He had the sense the woman and the dog were communicating on some level he couldn’t access. It was eerie but comforting. When Dr. Linden said the dog wasn’t seriously injured, he had believed her.

  Then all common sense had deserted him when he insisted the veterinarian allow Matt to spend the day with her. He put that down to sheer desperation. He had no idea how to handle the son he’d never heard of until four months ago, a son who didn’t want him as a father. Not that Adam blamed the boy for that.

  However, until the private investigator he’d hired could find some other relative who might be a more capable parent, the two of them were forced to live with each other. He made every allowance for the boy’s grief and tried to draw him out about his mother’s death, even offering to find a trained grief counselor for him to talk with. That suggestion had been met with such blazing hostility he’d avoided the subject of Matt’s mother ever since.

  All he asked was that his son follow the bare minimum of guidelines necessary for civilized behavior, but that appeared to be as impossible as cooking a perfect soufflé over a campfire. The boy’s room was a pigsty, but Adam had decided to cede that territory to Matt, simply closing the door when he couldn’t bear the chaos or the odor wafting from it. Only Sarah Duckworth, the live-in housekeeper he’d hired when Matt arrived, could bring temporary order to the chaos when she ventured in once a week.

  Endangering Trace’s life was a whole different level of rebellion, though, one Adam would not tolerate. If he didn’t get satisfactory results from Matt’s day with Dr. Linden, he would be forced to take stronger measures. Steeling himself, he rose to his feet and walked up the wide shallow steps to his front door with Trace by his side. Pushing open the door, he grimaced as the blare of rap music assaulted his ears. Trace whimpered and laid his ears flat back on his head.

  Adam strode across the living room to the media room, the most self-indulgent addition to the house he’d built on Two Creek Mountain. The lights were off, and a movie that appeared to involve nothing but four-letter words and car crashes was flashing across the wall-wide screen. Matt was sprawled in one of the forest-green plush chairs, his ratty red high-tops resting on the back of the seat in front of him, a bowl of popcorn spilling over into the chair beside him.

  Adam hit the lights and the kill switch on the projection system at the same time.

  A loud sigh emanated from his son’s prone form.

  “Matt.”

  His son didn’t move. “What?”

  “I’d like you to look at Trace.”

  Another loud sigh. Matt slowly lowered his feet and twisted around in his seat.

  Adam considered forcing the boy to stand up and come to him but decided that was a battle he didn’t want to fight. He signaled Trace to accompany him to his son’s chair.

  He stopped in front of the chair and regarded the child in it. It still gave him a shock to see those brilliant blue eyes in a face that otherwise was almost identical to his own when he was young. Although the attorney had offered a DNA test, Adam hadn’t needed it once he saw the boy. Matt’s face still held the roundness of pre-puberty, but the features were all Adam’s.

  “Trace was shot,” Adam said, knowing the bright-green bandages made the wound appear more severe than it really was but wanting to impress Matt with the consequences of his actions. He was reassured when he saw Matt shift his gaze to the dog and flinch just enough so Adam caught it.

&nb
sp; “The stupid dog wanted to go out,” Matt said.

  “Trace doesn’t know he’s endangering his life by going outside. You do.”

  Matt shrugged.

  Adam released Trace from his side. The big dog lay down, putting his head on his paws with a whiff of a sigh. “Matt, I need to know you won’t let Trace out again without a leash until hunting season is over.”

  “Fine. I won’t.”

  “Thank you.” Adam leaned his hip against the back of the chair in front of his son. “I’ve arranged an outing for you tomorrow.”

  Matt just stared at him, those blue eyes compelling in their vividness.

  “You’re going to spend the day with the veterinarian who treated Trace. You need to appreciate that animals are living beings who feel pain, just like a person.”

  “I’ve got better things to do.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to postpone them. This is not negotiable.” Especially since he’d already coerced Hannah into agreeing to it.

  Matt hurled himself out of his chair and stalked out of the room, muttering. Adam picked out the words “asshole,” “jerk,” and “wanker,” before his son’s voice faded out of earshot.

  He collapsed onto a chair and dropped his head into his hands. He was going to have to make one heck of a lunch for Dr. Linden.

  Chapter 2

  MR. BOSCH AND Matt are here.” Estelle’s voice came through the intercom.

  Panic fluttered in Hannah’s chest as she closed the last of the patient records she’d been reading prior to her appointments, noting which animals were best kept away from an inexperienced teenager.

  She slipped on her white coat and headed for the supply room where Sonya Woods was working. She’d briefed the veterinary technician on her temporary babysitting responsibilities already. Sticking her head in the door, she said, “You’re on.”

 

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