Hannah looked at the blaze of yellow flowers lighting up her little foyer. “You might be on to something there.”
“Oh, hello,” Julia said, surveying the three dogs who had joined Hannah. “You’ve got nurses, I see.”
“Anabelle, Floyd, and Ginger,” Hannah said, liking Julia’s guileless presence more and more. “Come on in.”
Julia gave each dog a greeting pat and bustled into the kitchen. Setting the basket on the counter, she proceeded to unload an array of containers. “Chicken noodle soup and homemade pumpkin pie ice cream from Tammy’s Place. Nice combination, right? I’d dig in there myself. A selection of herbal teas from the Bean and Biscuit. This one is supposed to reduce fevers, so you might try it first.” Julia lifted the box and sniffed at it, wrinkling her nose. “Although it smells nasty.” She went back to her catalogue. “Organic ginger ale and homemade cheese bread from Bellefleur. Hot chocolate from Jezebel’s. Crackers and cheese from Moonshine. And meat loaf from the Library Cafe. That’s for when you’re feeling better, so I’ll put it in the freezer.”
Hannah slid onto a stool to watch in fascination as Julia arranged the offerings in a beautiful display on her battered countertop. When the other woman was done, she looked at Hannah. “I have orders to make sure you eat some of the chicken noodle soup before I leave.”
“You and everyone else in Sanctuary,” Hannah said.
“I’m not your first visitor?”
“Not even close.”
“Small towns,” Julia said with a sympathetic grimace.
“I don’t want to infect you, but would you join me in a bowl?” Hannah said. Now that her fever was down, she found she’d like to have some company. “I’ll stay on this side of the counter and you can sit over there.”
Julia’s face lit up. “I never get sick, so I’d love to. Tammy makes the best soup, and I have my eye on the pumpkin pie ice cream too.” She stowed the ice cream and meat loaf in the freezer before opening the fridge to stash the cheese. She turned to look at Hannah, her eyes wide. “You got food from The Aerie? Maybe we should have that.”
“No, let’s eat Tammy’s soup while it’s hot.” Hannah didn’t want to eat the soup Adam had made for her in front of Julia. Stupid.
Julia nodded and followed Hannah’s directions about where to find dishes and silverware. It was pleasant to have a steaming bowl of soup, a piece of cheese bread, and a frosty glass of ginger ale appear in front of her without any effort on her part.
“I’m glad you let me stay,” Julia said, dragging a stool around to the opposite side of the counter. She took a spoonful of soup and swallowed. “So, tell me about you and Adam Bosch.”
Hannah choked on a noodle. “What do you mean?” she croaked.
“Well, The Aerie doesn’t do take-out except for special people. Tim gets it because he patched up Adam’s dog after a bear attack. So you must have some strong connection.”
“Um, Adam’s son likes me. I take care of his whisper pony.”
“If I weren’t madly in love with Paul, I’d be madly in love with the dark and mysterious Adam. He’s gorgeous and he can cook. And he clearly has secrets that need prying out of him.”
“Not so easy to do,” Hannah said, without thinking, as she took another bite of soup.
“So you’ve tried?”
Hannah cursed her loose tongue. Something about Julia’s clear green eyes and lopsided red bun disarmed Hannah. She had no close friend to discuss her troubles with here in Sanctuary. Hannah knew the germs were undermining her willpower, but tears streaked down her cheeks before she could hide them.
“Oh, Hannah, I’m sorry!” Julia reached across and squeezed her hand. “I’ve never learned to behave in polite company.”
“No, that’s not it,” Hannah, said shaking her head as she pulled a crumpled tissue out of her bathrobe pocket. “I need to talk to someone about Adam.”
“I’m listening.” Julia put down her spoon and sat forward to plant her elbows on the countertop and rest her chin on her laced fingers.
More tears burned in Hannah’s eyes. “I, well, I said some awful things to Adam yesterday. And I don’t know whether I should try to apologize or whether I should leave him alone since I’m pretty sure he never wants to see me again.”
“And that upsets you because?”
“Because I’m an idiot.” Because she was in love with him. Hannah picked up her napkin and tore it in half before she tore each half into quarters.
Julia sat back on her stool. “Tell me what you said to him.”
“I called him a coward because he’s found a nice couple up in Massachusetts who are Matt’s second cousins or something like that. He thinks he’s not good enough to be Matt’s father, so he wants the O’Briens to adopt Matt. He went up to Boston yesterday to meet them.” Hannah ripped the napkin into ever smaller pieces. “He admitted he was hoping there would be something wrong with them, but he says they’re perfect.”
“Oh, lord, this is terrible,” Julia said, her face tight with concern. “Is it because of his alcoholism?”
“Mostly,” Hannah said, “but it’s also his job. He admitted he uses the business to distract himself from his craving for liquor. And The Aerie is the one achievement in his life he takes pride in.”
“I hear a teenager can be a pretty big distraction.”
“That’s what I tried to tell him.” Hannah rolled the napkin shreds up into a ball. “Matt doesn’t help. He’s so afraid of being hurt again that he puts up this barrier between himself and Adam. Only Satchmo has been able to build a bridge between them.”
“Thank goodness for whisper horses!” Julia said. “If it hadn’t been for Darkside, I’d be single and miserable back in North Carolina, painting greeting-card landscapes.”
“You really believe in this whisper horse idea?”
Julia nodded. “As a vet, you see the bonds between humans and their animals all the time. Why is it hard to believe a horse can share your troubles with you? They’re strong and have broad backs for carrying heavy burdens.”
“Sharon thinks there’s one special horse for each person.”
“That’s just her way of saying you find the right horse when you need one.” Julia smiled. “Although I’d been painting pictures of Darkside before I ever saw him in person.”
Just when Hannah thought the explanation began to make some sense, Julia had injected that suspect note of mysticism again. “It’s Adam who needs the whisper horse right now,” Hannah said. “Matt can whisper in Satchmo’s ear all he wants, but it’s not changing his father’s mind.”
“Satchmo might need some human assistance,” Julia said, picking up her spoon again. “Now tell me about the O’Briens.”
“They’re coming for Thanksgiving.”
Julia sat bolt upright. “You have to go too.”
“But—,” the flu was fogging Hannah’s brain, “—I’m going to Claire and Tim’s.”
“I’ll explain why you can’t. They’ll understand.”
“What makes you think Adam would want me there?” Hannah pulled apart the cheese bread and arranged the pieces on the bread plate. “I accused him of cowardice.”
“That was just to get his attention. He must realize that now.”
“It’s more complicated.” Hannah took a deep breath, making herself cough. “We sort of broke up too.”
Surprise transformed into sympathy in the artist’s gaze. “I thought there might be a little more to the story.” Julia reached across the counter to touch the back of Hannah’s hand. “You care about the father as much as the son, don’t you?”
Hannah swallowed hard and nodded.
“Did you break up because you told him off, or was there some other reason?”
“Both.” Hannah clenched her fist around the balled-up napkin. “The way he feels about Matt spilled over into the way he fe
els about me.”
“If he’s not worthy to be Matt’s father, he’s not worthy to be your lover?”
A wave of exhaustion rolled over Hannah, and she slumped on her stool. “That’s what he believes.”
“Men are so stupid and stubborn!” Julia slapped her palm on the counter, making Hannah jump. The artist leaned across the Formica. “You have no choice. You’re Adam and Matt’s last hope.”
After Julia left, Hannah slid into a heavy, dreamless sleep. At 5:30 the dogs made their needs known, so Hannah forced herself out of bed to feed them.
Her fever had risen again but only to 100 degrees. Thrusting her feet into a pair of slippers and pulling a ski jacket out of her closet, she trailed out the sliding back door and plunked down in a lawn chair to watch the dogs cast around the yard in the near dark. It felt good to pull in a lungful of sharp, clean air, even if the chill scraped at her throat.
Besides, it warmed her to think of all the chicken soup in the refrigerator. In Chicago she would have fended for herself; Ward wasn’t the sort to play nursemaid to a sick fiancée. Here half the town worried about her.
Including Adam. A shiver pulled her out of her reverie and she stood up, calling the dogs to come in.
It was time to taste his soup. She dumped half the container marked “Hearty” into the saucepan, recalling his disdain for the microwave, which would have worked just as well for this task. Plunging her spoon into the pot, she took a sip and moaned at the deliciousness of the subtly herbed broth, the tender chunks of white meat, and the slightly sweet peas and carrots.
“Do I love him more for his cooking or his lovemaking?” she asked the dogs who watched avidly in the hope she’d drop some of the wonderfully scented food. You couldn’t separate the two aspects of him; they sprang from the same streak of innate sensuality.
As she swallowed spoonfuls of the warm, soothing soup, it rinsed away some of the ugliness of the scene between them. Maybe she could face him at Thanksgiving…if the invitation was still open.
After scraping her spoon on the bottom of the pot, she deposited it in the sink, too weak even to rinse it for the dishwasher. With the dogs’ escort, she wandered into her office, a converted second bedroom that held an Ikea desk and chair she’d bought in Chicago, as well as a wall of overflowing bookshelves. She flicked on the computer screen and scrolled through her emails to see if any required answering.
Paul Taggart’s name caught her eye and she opened the message from him.
Dear Hannah,
I’m sorry to hear you’re feeling under the weather and hope you are on the mend soon. Julia says you are well supplied with chicken soup, Sanctuary’s favorite cure-all for what ails you. If you need anything else, let us know. We’re here to help.
The arrangements for the press conference are going forward. We have agreed on next Thursday afternoon as an appropriate time. I requested it before I knew of your illness, so I hope you will be recovered by then. Anything later will get lost in the Thanksgiving/Christmas holiday rush, and I want Sawyer’s apology to be heard by as many as possible.
I’ve already booked round-trip tickets to Chicago for both of us (see attachment), since our airport doesn’t run to many flights. If you prefer to travel at another time, don’t hesitate to say so.
“He’s coming with me!” Hannah marveled at the support her new allies in Sanctuary gave her.
We will continue to work with Sawyer’s staff to develop the format and final location of the conference, pending your agreement. You may play as large or as small a role as you choose.
In order not to disturb you, I decided to email rather than call, but feel free to give me a ring if you have any questions.
Best regards,
Paul
Hannah sat back in her chair. The high-and-mighty Senator Robert Sawyer was going to eat crow in front of the local press. The thought brought a rush of satisfaction and a flutter of nerves. She didn’t want to face the reporters with their cameras and their microphones again.
She thought of Adam and his openness about his struggle with alcoholism. If he could tell the world about his disease, she could put on a game face for one afternoon to remove the blot on her record. It affected more than just her own life; Tim and her former partners benefited as well.
Hannah leaned forward to type a reply, outlining what she wanted to have done at the press conference. She sat back, amazed at her sudden burst of daring.
Sawyer wasn’t going to like it one little bit.
Chapter 26
THANKS FOR GETTING me out of school,” Matt said, slinging his backpack into the Maserati without a snarky comment about the car.
“You and Dr. Linden are friends, so you should see her vindication,” Adam said, steering the car out of the school parking lot and onto the road toward the Sanctuary Veterinary Hospital.
Matt threw him a look. “Meaning everyone says she didn’t do anything wrong?”
Adam looked back at him. “You’ll need that word for your SATs.”
The boy snorted and slouched in his seat. “It’s cool that Dr. Tim sent the cameraman to Chicago so we can all watch.”
“He wants everyone in Sanctuary to know Dr. Linden made the right decision.”
Without telling Hannah, Tim had arranged for a two-man crew from the local-access television channel to be present at the press conference in Chicago. He’d invited Hannah’s friends and several influential town residents to the animal hospital to see it live.
“Do you believe she made the right decision?” Matt asked.
Adam’s grip on the steering wheel became punishing as his feelings for Hannah writhed through him, dragging him back down into the wine cellar of The Aerie. He felt like one of the restaurant’s fine, crystal wineglasses—brittle enough to shatter at any second.
When he’d heard Hannah was ill, his first impulse was to rush to her house. However, the memory of their last encounter smacked him back to his senses. So he resorted to his standard response to every problem: he cooked. In this case, every kind of chicken soup he could think of, sending it all to Hannah with the hope she’d understand his unspoken apology and wishes for her speedy recovery.
He’d been relieved to hear she was well enough to go back to work on Tuesday, but he couldn’t face her. He thanked his lucky stars that Satchmo continued to improve, so he didn’t have to risk a meeting at the stable. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Matt, he would have avoided seeing Hannah even on television.
“Dad?”
What had Matt asked him? About Hannah’s decision. “I would never question anything she did for an animal’s well-being. Look at how she saved Satchmo.”
“Yeah, she’s awesome.”
When they pulled into the last empty space in the parking lot at the veterinary office, Adam turned to Matt. “Want to give me a hand with the coolers in the trunk?”
“Sure. I bet they’ll be happy to see us bringing in some of your food.” His son clambered out of the car as Adam sat stunned. He had braced himself for the usual accusation of trying to bribe people with his cooking. Shaking his head, he followed his son more slowly.
Matt’s prediction proved correct. The chorus of greeting was enthusiastic. Tim had set up a big-screen television in the waiting room with chairs arranged in rows facing it. Estelle cleared her desk to create an impromptu buffet table and helped Adam lay out the mid-morning snacks he’d brought. Soon the staff was scarfing down mini-quiches made with bacon, Gruyere, and zucchini, freshly baked sweet rolls, and croissants filled with ground lamb and mushrooms.
“Oh my gosh, this pastry melts in your mouth before you can even chew it,” Sonya sighed as she bit into an orange-cinnamon swirl. Adam felt a twinge of bittersweet amusement when he saw Matt hovering near the beautiful vet tech. He envied the boy his uncomplicated crush.
“You could have made the
m a little bigger,” Tim grumbled, his big hand dwarfing the bite-sized quiche he’d picked up.
“I’m used to feeding normal-sized people, not human mountains,” Adam said, surprised by the friendly ribbing.
“We grow ’em big here in Sanctuary,” one of the town councilors said. He added another croissant to the pile on his plate before he took it to his chair in the front row.
Tim’s wife, Claire, appeared beside Adam. “Thank you for providing the refreshments,” she said in a low voice as she watched the mayor and two more officials load up their plates. “Good food always puts politicians in a receptive mood.”
“I considered bringing hot buttered rum,” Adam said, “but Tim said he wanted his staff sober enough to work the rest of the day.”
“We wouldn’t want them sleeping it off on the examining tables.” She gestured with her plate. “Those two women coming back for seconds are reporters. One’s from the Sanctuary Sentinel and the other’s from the Tri-County Crier, so we’ll get some regional coverage.”
“Tim orchestrated this brilliantly.”
“If you hadn’t persuaded Paul to start his inquiries, this wouldn’t be happening.”
Adam shook his head. “It wasn’t any of my business, but I hated to see Hannah’s reputation being smeared.”
“It’s always the business of good friends to help each other,” Claire said, giving him her serene smile.
Tim’s voice broke through the hum of conversation. “It’s nearly eleven, so find yourself a place to sit, and I’ll turn up the sound on the television.” He picked up the remote control and increased the volume, so a televised debate over the best diet for dairy goats became audible.
The crowd moved to their seats. Adam watched Matt settle beside Sonya and crane his neck around until he met his father’s gaze. The boy jerked his head toward the empty seat beside him, his wordless invitation making Adam feel as though he’d won the lottery.
Sonya leaned forward as Adam sat down. “Mr. Bosch, you are a wizard with food,” she said. “Now I want to eat at The Aerie in the worst way.”
The Place I Belong Page 26
