The Place I Belong

by Nancy Herkness

  Hannah couldn’t decide if she felt cheated or relieved.

  Chapter 30

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Hannah and Sharon stood in the middle of the indoor riding ring, scrutinizing Satchmo as Lynnie led the pony back and forth in front of them. The snow had piled up during the night, so half a dozen other horses and riders circled around the outer path, the jingle and creak of their tack composing a soft music.

  Other than a slightly swollen knee, Satchmo showed no ill effects from his previous day’s misadventure.

  “If that pony were a human, I’d say he faked the whole thing,” Sharon said, crossing her arms.

  “You don’t think Matt got scared by the fall and overreacted?” Hannah changed positions to examine Satchmo from a different angle.

  “Didn’t he tell you Satch’s head was bobbing up and down as he limped? No way Matt made that up.”

  “Maybe lying down on the cold ground for a couple of hours reduced the swelling and numbed the pain. I’ll give you some more bute, in case he stiffens up, but otherwise I’d just continue to ice the knee,” Hannah said, rummaging around in her medical duffel for the medication.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d skipped lunch to check on the pony. She hadn’t waited until after work because she couldn’t bear to run into Adam. Or Matt. She was afraid the boy would ask her more questions about his father, and she didn’t have the energy to dance around the answers.

  The throb of her twisted ankle and the tangle of emotions had kept her tossing and turning all night. She was exhausted physically and mentally. And she still had to face returning Ferdie’s ashes to Mrs. Crickenberger. At least Satchmo was miraculously unscathed.

  As she pulled the bottle of phenylbutazone tablets from her bag, she caught sight of a man’s legs visible under Satchmo’s belly. Clad in black trousers with a knife-sharp crease in the front and shod in elegant, black loafers marred by clots of damp sawdust, they could only belong to one person. She briefly closed her eyes to brace herself before she straightened to face Adam on the other side of the pony, his hands thrust into the pockets of his long, black overcoat.

  “I never got the chance to thank you properly for all you did last night,” he said.

  She frowned. Something about him nagged at her, although at least the sharp lines around his mouth had eased. “There’s no need. Everyone pitched in to look for Matt and Satchmo.” She did a quick visual scan, drawing on her medical training in observing patients. “You’re wearing a red scarf! And a red shirt!”

  He freed a hand from his pocket to pick up the corner of the burgundy wool scarf, gazing down at it with a half-smile. “Matt loaned it to me. The shirt is from Walmart. I didn’t have time to shop elsewhere.”

  “Oh.” Thrown off balance, she turned to hand the bute to Sharon.

  “How’s Satch this morning?” Adam asked, running his palm along the pony’s spine.

  “He’s made a remarkable recovery. There’s a slight swelling in his knee,” Hannah pointed, “but he barely limps now.”

  Adam’s gaze went to Sharon. “I wonder if a whisper pony knows when he needs to exaggerate an injury.”

  “Since ponies are even smarter than horses, it wouldn’t surprise me at all,” the horsewoman said.

  Lynnie snorted and shook her head.

  Hannah grabbed the handles of her medical kit. “I have another appointment, so I have to head out.”

  “I brought you a gift,” Adam said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small glass jar. He held it out over the pony’s back, the scars on his fingers showing clearly in the sun.

  Hannah sucked in a breath. She could see tiny round fish eggs pressed against the jar’s side. Her eyes flew to his face as she took his expensive offering and cradled its cold, smooth weight in her palm. “Thank you.”

  Was he giving her this as an expensive thank you gift? Or was he sending her a more intimate message? She tucked it into her jacket pocket.

  “May I speak with you a moment?” Adam asked, his gaze intent on her face.

  She kept a firm hold on the duffel and didn’t move. “Sure.” Sharon started to signal Lynnie to lead Satchmo away, but Hannah sent her a pleading look. She wanted the pony between her and Adam.

  He looked discomfited for a moment before the half-smile kicked up again. “I guess public amends are required.” He took a step closer, so only the width of Satchmo’s back was between them. “I’m adopting Matt. Paul Taggart started the process this morning. And Matt and I are going to swim with the dolphins in Disney World.”

  Joy for both Matt and his father surged through her. No wonder the strain in Adam’s face had smoothed away. He’d wrestled his demons to the ground at last. “I’m so happy for you and Matt.” It was inadequate, but she couldn’t throw her arms around him and kiss him. Hopefully, her wide smile told him enough.

  She remembered Sharon and Lynnie could hear and wondered why they didn’t jump in with congratulations. When she glanced in their direction, she caught expressions of rapt attention on their faces. Evidently, they didn’t want to interrupt the conversation.

  Adam laid both hands flat on Satch’s back, leaning inward. “You were right. I can work out the details as long as Matt and I are together. It took a whisper pony and a woman brave enough to be brutally honest to convince me of it.”

  Hannah felt a flush heat her face.

  “There’s more you were right about.” He breathed in. “The Aerie isn’t enough. I tried to make it be, but what’s that old saying? No one ever dies wishing they’d spent more time at work.” He looked down at his fingers spread on the pony’s reddish coat. “The emptiness I have inside me can’t be filled by more hours at the restaurant or even by six-thousand-dollar bottles of Pétrus, although I certainly tried. It needs people to fill it. People I love.”

  His hands curled into fists. “Stupidly, I’ve pushed away those people. I thought I was being noble and unselfish, but you were right about what I really was.” He looked straight into her eyes. “A coward.”

  Hannah heard a gasp from one of the women standing stock still at Satchmo’s head, but she couldn’t look away from the bleak honesty in Adam’s gaze. She made a gesture toward the entrance to the riding ring. “Please, we can go—”

  He shook his head. “I owe you this.” Opening his hands, he held them out across Satchmo’s back, palms up in invitation.

  She dropped the duffel with a thud and put her hands in his, loving the heat and texture of his skin.

  His voice dropped low. “I have no right to ask you this, but will you forgive me and try again?”

  She wanted to leap across Satchmo and wrap her arms around Adam’s neck. Instead she tightened her grip on his hands and said, “Yes! Absolutely, yes!”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lynnie, move the pony so she can kiss him,” Sharon ordered, laughter in her voice.

  Satchmo disappeared from between them, but Adam didn’t instantly pull her into his arms. He closed his eyes a moment as though to absorb her response. When he opened them, she saw hope there. Still he didn’t move. “I will always be an alcoholic, Hannah. It’s a disease. But I swear to you I will fight it with every molecule of my being. And I will win.”

  She stopped waiting for him. Pulling her hands from his, she threw herself against him, seizing his lapels to bring herself closer. “Matt and I will be right beside you. We will win.”

  His arms came around her, and he bent his head to brush her lips with his. “Thank you,” he breathed against her cheek.

  She let go of his coat and threaded her fingers through his glorious, waving hair, smiling into his eyes. “Thank Satchmo, not me.” She had no chance to say anything more because he swooped down on her mouth, no longer gentle with gratitude. His hands flattened on her back and her waist, pressing her against him as though he were trying to merge their bodies together
. She moved her grip to his shoulders, digging her fingers into the fine wool.

  His touch sent delicious zings of electric sensation fizzing through her body, and she hummed with anticipation at the thought of where he would kiss her later when they were alone.

  “You two are makin’ my heart go pitter-patter, but I got kids in here.” Sharon’s voice made Hannah try to pull away from Adam, but his grip on her was too tight. All she could do was turn her head to see the horsewoman grinning at them, Satchmo by her side. Sharon held out her hand. “Here’s the key to the tack room. I’m not the only one who has a key, so make sure you throw the bolt after you go in.”

  Adam laughed. “As tempting as that is, I think we can find a more comfortable place to continue.”

  “Hey, you haven’t lived until you’ve done it in a tack room,” Sharon said, putting the key back in her pocket. She gave Satchmo’s lead line a tug. “Your work here is done, whisper pony.”

  Hannah wriggled free of Adam’s embrace and walked over to plant a kiss on the pony’s velvety nose. “You’ve made a believer out of me, Satch.”

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  HANNAH SIPPED HER champagne and watched Adam prowl down the length of the buffet table, his pale-gray suit throwing his dark hair and eyes into compelling contrast. He was in his element as the charming, attentive host, smiling and chatting with their guests. However, she knew he was also checking on every serving bowl and platter to make sure it met his exacting standards. He wanted this day to be perfect for Matt.

  She stood under a huge green-and-white striped tent set up in Sharon’s north paddock, the grass carefully groomed to remove all vestiges of horse manure. Satchmo had brought them all together, so Matt’s whisper pony had to be able to attend the party.

  Luckily, the weather had cooperated, giving them a day that was unusually warm for May in the mountains. The slight breeze carried the delicious and varied aromas of the dishes Adam and his staff had slaved over, wafting them to her appreciative nostrils.

  “That confounded pony is at it again.” Sharon shoved Satchmo away from end of the buffet table, a lettuce leaf dangling from the pony’s mouth. “Lynnie! You have to keep a closer eye on this troublemaker.”

  Lynnie stood up from one of the nearby tables. “You know what an escape artist he is. I had tied him up tight so I could take five minutes to eat.”

  Hannah laughed and walked over to grab the short lead line hanging from the pony’s halter. “I’ll supervise him. You finish your lunch, Lynnie.”

  “Did you hear Satch’s latest?” Sharon asked, retrieving her plate from the buffet table. “He decided he liked the hay in Willow’s net better than his, so he unlatched his stall door, turned over a water bucket, pushed it over to Willow’s stall, and used it as a stool for his front feet so he could reach the hay.”

  Hannah pulled the pony’s chin up to look into his big, dark eyes. “Satchmo, you’re going to get yourself exiled from Healing Springs Stables and then where will you live?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Sharon said. “Everyone at the barn loves him. He keeps us laughing.”

  Hannah smoothed the pony’s thick, cream-colored mane, which someone had decorated with daisies for the occasion. “Thank goodness he recovered fully from the EPM. I was afraid there might be permanent aftereffects.”

  “Satch knew Matt needed him strong and healthy. Whisper ponies are smart that way,” Sharon said, as she went off toward the table where Lynnie sat.

  Tim Arbuckle strolled up hand-in-hand with his wife Claire. “Hello, partner.” He stooped to give Hannah a kiss on the cheek.

  She’d bought into the Sanctuary Veterinary Hospital’s practice, signing the final papers a month ago. She was putting down roots in Sanctuary.

  Claire released her husband’s hand to give Hannah a hug. “I hear Bertha Shanks allowed you to treat Willie’s hairballs, so you’ve been given the ultimate seal of approval.”

  “I was hoping she’d insist on Tim, but no such luck,” Hannah said with a comic grimace.

  “She decided that if a U.S. senator owed Hannah an apology, then maybe she did too,” Tim said. “Now I’m headed for the buffet.”

  “For the second time,” Claire said over her shoulder.

  Hannah chuckled and led Satchmo over to a grassy patch so he could graze.

  “Now that’s a pretty picture!” Ellen O’Brien, Matt’s cousin from Boston, sauntered up with her husband Pat. “You in your floating blue chiffon dress and the pony with flowers in his hair.” Satchmo lifted his head to sniff at her pockets, and she tickled the pony’s velvet nose. “Who prettied up your hair, Satch, my boy-o?”

  “I suspect it was Julia Castillo, the red-haired artist who wanted to sketch you at Thanksgiving,” Hannah said. “She was picking daisies right before this party started.”

  “That Thanksgiving seems like it was both long ago and just yesterday,” Pat said, his silver-sandy hair gleaming above his green sweater vest. “We flew down here thankful that we’d get to see our young cousin and got the meal of a lifetime.”

  “It was quite a feast,” Hannah agreed.

  It had been quite a crowd too. Adam was so overflowing with gratitude and happiness after the drama with Matt and Satchmo that he’d wanted to share his good fortune. So he had issued last-minute invitations to the Arbuckles, Julia and Paul, and Sharon. And he’d left his staff to run The Aerie while he cooked nonstop for two days.

  Ellen laid a hand on Hannah’s arm. “You’ve been a wonderful catalyst for Adam and Matt. I can see the difference in both of them just since that Thanksgiving Day. They’re so much more at ease with themselves and each other.”

  “Thank you. I think we’ve all come a long way,” Hannah said.

  “Okay, I’ll take the little rascal now,” Lynnie said, taking the lead line from Hannah.

  The O’Briens left to sample the buffet. Hannah spotted Matt talking with Julia and Paul and ambled over to join them. Trace sat beside Matt with the boy’s hand resting on his head. The German Shepherd had become a two-man dog since the night he’d tracked Matt through the woods.

  “I was just admiring the colors of Matt’s boutonniere,” Julia said. “He tells me it’s also full of symbolism.”

  Hannah had wanted to give her two men something meaningful for today, so she’d consulted with Lucy Porterfield, The Aerie’s hostess and floral arranger, about choosing the flowers. As she’d pinned them on their lapels this morning, she’d explained what each blossom meant.

  Matt tucked his chin in to look down at the petals glowing against his navy suit. “I know this blue one is rosemary for remembering my mom.” A shadow of sorrow crossed his face, and Hannah’s heart twisted a little before he broke into a grin. “And the yellow one is to remind me that no matter how obnoxious I am, you’ll still put up with me.”

  Hannah laughed. “That’s gorse, which means love in all seasons. I figured it would take something powerful to get us through the teenaged years.” She pointed to the other yellow flower. “This is celandine, which promises joys to come. There will be lots of those in your life.” Hannah’s voice cracked a little as her emotions welled up.

  She’d used all the same flowers for Adam with one addition: a blue starflower for courage. Because he was the bravest man she’d ever known.

  Suddenly needing to find him, Hannah looked toward the buffet table and discovered he was already gazing in her direction. He smiled a private smile that went straight to her core. Then he lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips over his boutonniere in a caress. A delicious shiver danced down her spine.

  “You must be very flattered.” Paul’s voice broke through her distraction.

  “I’m sorry,” Hannah said, flustered as she caught the knowing smile on Julia’s face. “What?”

  “Matt tells us he wants to follow in
your footsteps and become a veterinarian,” Paul said.

  Hannah felt the same little thrill of pride as when Matt had first announced his new ambition. “I’m both honored and delighted that getting into vet school has given him incentive to do his homework.”

  Matt was giving her a look of mock long-suffering when the sound of silverware tapping against crystal penetrated the general hum of conversation.

  The crowd grew quiet as all eyes turned toward the sound. For a moment, she could hear the more distant sounds of the barn: the clank of water buckets, the thud of hooves, and a soft whinny. Then she focused on where Adam stood in the clear space between the buffet and the dining tables, tapping a fork against his water glass.

  “Matt, Hannah, would you join me?” Adam said, with a gesture of invitation. “Lynnie, could you bring Satchmo up too?”

  Matt looked at Hannah with a question in his eyes. She shrugged in answer. Adam hadn’t told her he was going to make a speech, although it shouldn’t have surprised her. He was both proud of and humbled by his new relationship with his son.

  As Hannah came up to Adam, he put his arm around her waist and moved her to his left side. Matt stood to his right, having taken Satchmo’s lead line from Lynnie. Trace wedged himself between Hannah and Adam, his long pink tongue hanging out as he panted in the spring warmth.

  “This party is for you and Matt, not me,” Hannah whispered, uncomfortable at being the focus of the guests gathering in front of them.

  “Without you, there would be no party,” he murmured back into her ear, pressing her against his side for a moment before releasing her.

  Shifting his glass to his left hand, he put his other arm around his son’s shoulders. Hannah turned slightly so she could see how Adam’s face lit up with his newfound awe at being a true father to Matt. The boy’s blue eyes blazed with an answering feeling as he looked up at his dad.

  Adam swept his gaze across the guests, silencing the last bit of chatter, before he began, his voice vibrating with the power of his emotions. “I wanted to share this celebration with everyone here because you form the community that made it possible for me to be a father to the son I love so much. There is not a single person…or animal” —he paused to acknowledge Satchmo and Trace as the crowd chuckled—“under this tent who did not contribute in some way to the journey that brought Matt to me. My gratitude can never be adequately expressed in words. Which is why I cooked for you.”