The Place I Belong Page 3

  Sonya closed the cabinet door and “tsked” as she fell into step beside Hannah. “You didn’t flinch in the face of Slasher, the half-wolf, half-pit bull, but you’re terrified by a thirteen-year-old boy?”

  “I’m not a kid person.”

  “Kids are a lot like pets. They just want to be loved.”

  “But they aren’t cute and furry,” Hannah said and opened the door to the reception area, waving Sonya through.

  Adam Bosch stood in the middle of the room, his hand on the shoulder of a boy who clearly carried his genes. Except for the kid’s bright blue eyes. Hannah shifted her gaze back and forth between the two, noting the similarities and differences. Matt McNally was going to be a heartbreaker when he lost the last traces of childhood roundness.

  Adam had hit heartbreaker and gone beyond. His fathomless gaze and sensual mouth tugged at some primitive place deep inside her. At least he wasn’t pouring on the charm. A furrow between his black eyebrows indicated tension, and his free hand was clenched in a fist beside his thigh. The corners of his mouth turned upward, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes were absent, so she didn’t believe the smile was real.

  “Dr. Linden, this is my son, Matt. Matt, Dr. Linden.”

  Hannah pasted on a nervous smile before she walked over to put out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Without hesitation, Matt shook it. “Nice to meet you too, Dr. Linden.”

  Surprise and relief chased each other across Adam’s face, and she saw him give his son’s shoulder an approving squeeze before he released it.

  Hannah waved Sonya forward and introduced her. Matt’s eyes widened and a beet-red blush crept up his cheeks as Sonya shook hands with him. The vet tech had a long black braid, huge brown eyes, and a smile that brought grown men to their knees.

  Hannah allowed herself a little smirk of triumph at her spot-on calculation of the effect the gorgeous vet tech would have on a thirteen-year-old boy. She glanced at Adam to check his reaction and was disconcerted to find his gaze on her rather than the dazzling Sonya. She raised her eyebrows at him.

  A dimple appeared in his cheek. “What time shall I bring lunch and for how many?” he asked.

  Hannah was thrown off balance. “You mean you don’t just have take-out boxes we can stick in the refrigerator?”

  His dimple disappeared into a mock frown. “I don’t fix the sort of lunch that can sit around for several hours. I’ll be delivering it fresh from the kitchen.”

  “Oh. I guess for five of us. The thing is lunchtime has to be flexible. If you come at noon, we might still be tied up.”

  “I’ll adjust.” He reached out and took her hand between both of his. “Thank you for doing this.”

  The warmth and strength of his hands wrapped around hers drew her eyes downward. His skin appeared very tan in contrast to her pale wrist and once again she noted the crisscrossing lines of scars.

  “An occupational hazard,” he said, somehow guessing her thoughts. “I play with knives.”

  She tugged her hand out from between his and held it up to show him the three parallel welts across the back of it. “Ditto, except I play with lion cubs.”

  “So not every animal succumbs to your charm like Trace?”

  “Dogs are easy.”

  He nodded toward his son who was smiling shyly at Sonya. “So are boys, given the right incentive.” The humor in his voice couldn’t quite conceal a touch of wistfulness.

  “You only have seven more years before he grows out of being a teenager,” Hannah said, allowing herself to enjoy the banter just a bit.

  His expression of horror was only half-pretense. “I’ll be locked in a padded cell long before then. Happily.”

  The fact that she wanted him to take her hand again made Hannah pivot away sharply. “All right, let’s give Matt the grand tour before the patients come pouring in.”

  Adam stepped back. “I’ll be here at noon.”

  She nodded and watched him walk out the door, his stride long and relaxed. Only now did she notice he was dressed entirely in black again. She shrugged at the eccentricity and joined Matt. “Sonya, why don’t you show him a couple of the operating rooms and whatever else he might be interested in before you bring him to my office?” She lowered her gaze a few inches to meet Matt’s. “We’ll go over the patients I’m going to see before lunch so you’ll know what I’m dealing with.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Matt said.

  At least the boy had nice manners.

  “This is Matt. He’s observing today,” Hannah said to her fourth pet owner of the day.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” the boy said to Mrs. Lewis before he plunked himself down on the rolling stool Hannah used when she was sitting at the computer.

  Hannah kept up a running commentary of what she was checking for on Mrs. Lewis’s calico cat, Binky. She slipped her stethoscope into her ears, just as Mrs. Lewis gave her a smile and jerked her head slightly in Matt’s direction.

  Hannah glanced sideways without moving her head and caught him staring down at his smartphone as he tapped on the screen. Bringing her eyes back to her client, she mouthed, “Teenagers.”

  Mrs. Lewis nodded with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I guess Binky’s brain tumor is going to turn him bright purple.”

  Hannah stifled a spurt of laughter, but Matt didn’t even twitch.

  “Yup, those giant lice are about eating the poor cat alive,” Mrs. Lewis said.

  Hannah grinned as she reached for a prepped hypodermic. “Guess we’ll have to give him a vaccination to prevent magenta-spotted-if-you’re-happy-and-you-know-it disease.”

  No response from Matt.

  “This is his rabies vaccination,” Hannah said with a resigned sigh. She had a ten-minute break right after Binky, so she was going to be forced to have a chat with Matt about paying attention, a prospect that made her stomach clench.

  “Good luck,” Mrs. Lewis said as Hannah helped her get Binky back into his carrier.

  Hannah closed the door behind Mrs. Lewis and turned back to the boy. His cell phone was no longer visible. She gave him credit for good timing.

  “Who’s the next patient?” Matt asked, a mask of polite interest on his face.

  Hannah leaned back against the examining table and crossed her arms. “Who was the last patient?”

  For a moment he looked like a deer in headlights. Then he gave her a smile that brought out a dimple exactly where his father’s was. “A cat.”

  “Well, you got that right. What color was the cat?”

  “Black?”

  “Nice try. What game are you playing on your phone?”

  The boy’s smile turned into defiance. “I wasn’t playing a game. I was texting the friend I was supposed to be hanging out with before my father made me come here.”

  “Ah.” Now what was she supposed to say? Adam had forced his son to give up his Saturday for this visit, so Matt’s resentment didn’t surprise her. “Look, your relationship with your father is your own business. However, when you drag a helpless dog into your battle, it’s not okay. That’s why you’re here.”

  She was relieved to see a flash of guilt in his expression before the defiance hardened again. “You call Trace helpless? He could kill you,” Matt said. “He was a police dog.”

  “He’s helpless against a gun. When Trace is running through the woods, a hunter can’t tell the difference between him and a bear.”

  “So you think it’s okay to kill bears?”

  Hannah recognized the attempt at diversion. “That’s not the issue. Trace is a domesticated animal. He trusts people; the bear knows to run away. How would you have felt if your father had found Trace’s dead body on the back porch?”

  Matt wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Bad. I didn’t mean for him to get hurt.” He shrugged. “I thought my father was jus
t making another stupid rule I had to follow.”

  Every angle of his body spoke of loss and yearning, like a calf separated from its mother. Hannah had to keep her hands firmly tucked under her arms to fight off the urge to hug him. She was sure he’d be horrified if she did. She remembered Adam’s desperation and thought she’d throw in a plug for him. “Maybe you’re being unfair to your father. Maybe he’s only making rules to keep you and Trace safe.”

  “Yeah, making the bed is a safety issue.” Sarcasm dripped from Matt’s voice.

  “Well, you could strangle on your messy sheets. Or trip over them if they’re dragging on the floor. Maybe suffocate under a pillow.”

  He shot her a glare of loathing.

  “Lighten up,” she said. “I was joking.”

  He hunched a shoulder.

  “So have you paid any attention to what I’ve been doing all morning?” she asked.

  “The first dog was a mutt named Ninja and it had hot spots. You gave it oral corticosteroids and Panalog.” Now he met her eyes in a challenge. “The second patient was a Persian cat with a sinus infection. Its name was Tartufo, which is the wrong nationality for that breed.”

  “Not ‘it.’ The dog and the cat were both male so you refer to them as ‘he.’ These are living creatures with feelings just like yours. They can’t articulate them in language but they feel them all the same.” Still, she was impressed with his memory.

  “I get it,” he said. “All creatures great and small. The Lord God made them all.”

  The kid was quoting a hymn? Her surprise must have shown in her face because Matt gave her a wry grimace that reminded her of his father and said, “My mom and I went to Mass every Sunday.”

  He had mentioned his mother. That seemed like a good sign in their relationship. Whoa, girl! The kid would go home at the end of the day, and she expected never to see him again. So, no relationship. “Okay, so we have another couple of hours before your dad brings lunch. Here’s my offer: you pay attention to the next two appointments because they’re the most interesting. Then you can sit in my office and play games or text or whatever on your phone until 11:40. After that, you’re with me again.”

  “That’s a good deal,” Matt said, his expression lighting up with relief. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Lose the ‘ma’am.’ I’m not fooled by the pretty manners,” Hannah said, but she gave him a wink. “Keep the phone stowed out of sight or you’ll lose office privileges.”

  Matt nodded, and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners, like Adam’s. Now that his surly façade had crumbled, he had his father’s charm without the years of polish. It must come naturally with the Bosch genes.

  “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. Bosch 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 t
he 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!”