Healing Hearts (8 page)

He gulped in the fresh air as his feet pounded against the asphalt. Something about Sarah brought out his protective streak and touched him deep inside. Maybe it was her shyness and her vulnerability, or maybe it was, in spite of everything, he still believed in doing good things for others. He knew there were things he could do for Sarah. He could start by chasing away those unhappy memories and creating some sort of stability in her life.

Running by the old high school, Grant waved at the custodian before he looped around and headed home. Mr. Cruz had been there ever since his parents had attended Greer High. Rumor had it he was retiring after this year. Grant wondered who’d clean the spit-wads from the bathroom ceilings and extricate the laboratory frogs flushed down the toilets before they backed up the plumbing.

Not that
he
had ever been guilty of doing any of those pranks. Had Sarah ever done any stunts like that? There was still so much he didn’t know about her. So much he wanted to find out, but if he wasn’t careful, he might scare her back into the shell he’d finally managed to crack.

Invigorated from his run, Grant was surprised—and happy—to see two people waiting from him in the clinic when he arrived. The ad he’d started to run in the local paper must be working. Business had picked up in the past few days.

Aunt Mary was doing her best to keep track of a conversation on the phone while the chocolate lab barked at the caramel-colored cat huddled in the corner of its kennel.

Grant wished Sarah was there to settle the fray.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Morrison.” He greeted the stranger who had just finished filling out the necessary paperwork before turning his attention to his mother’s friend.

“Hi, Mrs. Polk, trouble with Misty today?” He nodded toward the dog. “Come on back.”

Grant glanced at the information the thin, graying woman had handed him. “Aunt Mary, put Mrs. Williams and Taffy in room two. I’ll be right in.” He motioned Mrs. Polk to follow him.

The first half of the morning flew by. After his fourth patient, a cat with nothing more than a hairball, Grant lifted his arms over his head and stretched. Ten o’clock and he missed Sarah.

Her silent strength, her attention to details, her quiet calm was what he needed at his side. But while Sarah was more efficient, his aunt’s skill at the books couldn’t be beat.

If only he could have Sarah work for him fulltime, but Grant knew he couldn’t pay her what she was worth. At least not yet. He’d only been open six months. The ad, the animal articles he wrote, and word of mouth helped but he was still a long way from justifying the added expense. His loan payment plus rent and supplies stretched the budget tight.

But he didn’t regret opening his own clinic when he did. Aside from Dr. Witherspoon, who was ready to retire in a few years’ time, the only other clinics were 5 miles away in Denton. With the growing population, Greer needed his services. His increasing business attested to that.

The tone Grant installed in the back signaled the arrival of another client. That had to be Joyce Thompson with Sebastian. Reviewing the chart from the previous vet, Grant pulled out the needed vaccinations as he heard his aunt and neighbor walk down the hall.

“Hi, Grant.”

“Hi, Joyce. Aunt Mary, I need you to find me that box of syringes we ordered.” He took the kennel from his aunt’s hand and lifted it onto the examining table. The Siamese mix didn’t look too happy, but then again, a visit to the vet could not be high on the list of priorities that included eating, sleeping, and chasing the neighborhood birds. “Come here, fella.” He opened the door and pulled Sebastian out.

As the feline huddled on the table, he looked into his round blue eyes and noticed they were the same color as Sarah’s. Her image clouded his vision; he scent invaded his nostrils. A minute didn’t seem to pass that he didn’t think about his assistant.

Shaking his head, he folded the cat’s ears back to check for mites, examined his teeth, and then felt his body from head to tail. He placed the stethoscope in his ears and listened to the cat’s heartbeat. Everything sounded normal.

“Good boy.” He scratched the cat under the chin and listened to him purr. Would Sarah do that if he scratched her there? The idea amused him. One of these days he’d have to find out.

“So what time does your new assistant come in, Grant? I’ve heard so much about her and wanted to meet her.”

“Two-thirty.” Aunt Mary spoke for him, returning with the needles. The edge in her voice surprised him. What was bothering her? He thought his aunt had gotten over her wariness of Sarah, but her attitude challenged his thinking.

Grant grabbed the syringes and placed them on the counter next to the vials.

“Oh, dear. Needles. Where’s the bathroom?”

Grant noticed the color had fled Joyce’s face. “Down the back hall to your right. We’ll be done in a few minutes.” He didn’t fill the first syringe with the feline leukemia vaccine until his neighbor was out of sight.

“Why don’t you like Sarah?” He threw the empty vial away and administered the shot.

“It’s not that I don’t like her,” his aunt started, “It’s—I don’t trust her, that’s all. I haven’t since the day she walked through the door. She’s so quiet—so secretive.” She handed him another vial. “Why, Mrs. Walker down at the pharmacy says—”

“Mrs. Walker doesn’t have a nice word to say about anyone.” Grant extracted the second vaccine and injected the unhappy cat.

“Well, it is true that Sarah just showed up in town one day, in a broken down car, that Mr. Halverson at the auto shop said can’t be fixed. Then she took a temporary job over at Greer’s Diner.”

“If she’s here temporarily, how do you explain her attending cases at Denton Community College?”

“I can’t, but I’ve seen her type before and I’m worried about you. I know you think you can help her—”

Grant held up his hand to stop her, but she continued.

“What do you know about her? She’s a drifter. Mark my words, she’ll be here one day and gone the next. I don’t want to see you hurt, that’s all.” With a shaking hand, his aunt settled her glasses on her nose before handing him the vial of rabies vaccination.

He extracted the liquid into the syringe. That’s one thing Grant hated about living in a small community. Everyone knew everyone else’s business.

As for Sarah, what did he really know about her? He knew she was orphaned at an early age and spent years in foster homes, but he wouldn’t enlighten his aunt, and give her more feed for the rumor mill. He knew Sarah had moved around a lot, but had given no specific reasons. On a whim, would she leave again, taking his heart with her?

“I’m a grown boy, Aunt Mary, I can take care of myself.” Bunching the hairs at the base of the cat’s neck, Grant injected the shot. Was he a fool for trusting Sarah? Could he really take care of himself? After last night, he wasn’t so sure. He’d started to fall in love with his assistant.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

At the sigh of resignation, Grant glanced at his aunt. Worry lines creased her forehead as she chewed the pink lipstick off her bottom lip. He’d never seen her in such a state. Something was up and he knew he wasn’t going to like it. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I asked Gillian’s boyfriend, Joe, to run her plates.”

“You what?”

Joyce returned, ending their conversation.

Grant could have been an actor. In a wink, his professional demeanor replaced his shock at his aunt’s admission. “You’re all set.” He no sooner opened the door to the kennel and the cat leaped inside. Grant smiled in spite of himself and closed the gate. “And I thought you liked it here, Sebastian. Thanks for coming in today, Joyce. Aunt Mary will see you out.”

Feeling the need for some fresh air, Grant hooked the leash to Rocky’s collar and headed out the back door. While Aunt Mary had no right to request that information, he knew she was only looking out for him. Family did that.

Even after a quick walk around the block, his mood hadn’t lifted. Could his aunt see something he couldn’t? Maybe he should do some checking up on his own, but that thought disturbed him

He shook his head, trying to dispel the seeds of doubt planted in his brain. They were nonsense. Sarah was nothing like the picture certain people were painting. The trust he saw in her eyes behind the wall of defenses was real. She didn’t lie or cheat he’d bet his practice on it.

Sarah was only too glad to leave the noisy confines of the diner and step into the comforting interior of the clinic. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the tangy scent of disinfectant, not the smell of stale grease. A chorus of barks greeted her as she passed by the room to her right. “Hi, guys. What were you in for today?” Stopping in front of the kennels, she reached in and petted the smaller of the two brown dogs, then gave a hearty scratching to the bigger one. “I’ll take you out in a minute.” They both licked her hand.

A feeling of contentment swept over her. For the first time in her life, she actually felt as if she belonged somewhere, that she was wanted, not an inconvenience, and that she had something to give. She didn’t know a lot, but with time, she would learn. If Grant would keep her on after her debt was paid.

She liked her job. The constant challenge of dealing with pets and their owners kept her on her toes. When she’d first started, she hadn’t been too sure about her role in the clinic, or how well she’d fit in.

Grant had welcomed her, and his niece, Amanda, treated her with kindness, too. Only his aunt, Mrs. Thatcher, treated her coolly. She couldn’t figure the older woman out and didn’t necessarily want to. She reminded her of one of the social workers assigned to her when she was a child.

She smiled, contented, but wondered how Grant would feel about her today after her confessions last night. Between her customers, she’d gone over the scene in her head; relived it, even down to the last moments in his arms. Instead of shying away, she’d enjoyed his hug. It brought back images of a lost time when her mother, on a good day, would comfort her, before the bitter reality of the bottle hit.

Yet, it was different. The rhythmic beat of Grant’s heart, his comforting words, and the scent of soap mingled with aftershave was nothing like the sweet, sickening smell of gin or slurred words produced by liquor.

No. Grant was sincere and she wouldn’t have done anything to stop him had he tried to kiss her, but he hadn’t. She sighed. Obviously, he didn’t find her the least bit attractive. It had never bothered her before, but now she cursed her curly hair and freckles as she headed toward the front of the clinic.

Though in a way, it was probably better he didn’t pursue her. Sarah needed to keep her distance so she wouldn’t get hurt again, and suppressed that familiar sense of longing that had accompanied her everywhere lately.

“Grant? Rocky? I’m here.”

Her dog barreled out of Grant’s office with her boss not too far behind. Dressed in a red polo shirt and khaki pants, Grant looked unusually handsome today as he pulled on his white lab coat.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat as she slipped on her own lab coat before Rocky jumped up and licked her face. “Hi, baby.” Scratching him behind his ears, she planted a big kiss on his nose. Then she gave Grant a tentative smile. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sarah.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He gave her a searching look, but didn’t say anything as he shoved his hands into his coat pocket. Sarah’s fingers bunched the fur behind Rocky’s ears as her spirits dropped.

Rocky continued to lick her face as his tail wagged furiously. At least someone was glad to see her. At times like this, Sarah was glad she’d adopted him. He always made her feel good. After a final pat, she settled him on the floor and took a deep breath to steady her voice. “What needs to get done today?”

The jingle of bells sounded as the front door opened. Sarah stepped out from the back, the broom still in her hand. Grant was checking on the dog he’d done surgery on this morning, and Mrs. Thatcher had left early, complaining about a headache.

“Can I help you?” she asked the woman who’d obviously been here before. She’d walked right past the reception area and straight into Grant’s office.

The familiarity the stranger gave off confused Sarah. In her weeks of working here, she’d never seen her, nor heard Grant or Mrs. Thatcher talk about her. Yet somehow she looked familiar and seemed to belong.

“Sure. Where’s Grant?”

The woman turned around and Sarah realized this was one of the women from the photographs she’d seen on Grant’s desk. She shrunk inwardly at the woman’s striking beauty. The photo didn’t do her justice, nor show how tall and thin she was.

Any feelings Sarah had for Grant dried up and embarrassment surged through her. Silly of her to think Grant’s actions were anything more than employer to employee.

“He’s in the back. I’ll go get him for you.” Sarah wanted to grab Rocky and run. Had Grant’s girlfriend found out he’d been to her apartment? Did she come to have it out with Grant? Or with her?

“Don’t bother. He’ll know I’m here soon enough. You must be Sarah.” The way she looked at her made Sarah want to shrink further into her skin. Surely she didn’t see her as an obstacle.

“I’m Gillian. Sorry I haven’t come sooner, but I was stuck in LA on business. I’ve looked forward to meeting you.” The smile on her lips didn’t match the cool look in her eyes as she extended her hand.

Sarah shook it, not wanting to offend the woman, although touching her was the last thing she wanted to do. “Gillian?”

More confusion set in as the woman settled in Grant’s chair, picked up his picture and stared at it a second before dusting it with her sleeve. “Grant hasn’t told you about me?”

Sarah’s heart did a somersault but she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. Grant hadn’t asked her to fall in love with him. In fact, he’d given no indication that he cared for her in any other way than as an employer. It was simply her own silly daydreams and longings that should have stayed buried. She stood frozen to the spot just shy of the desk, as Grant appeared.

“Hi, Gillian. I heard you all the way in the back room and came as quickly as possible before you ate Sarah alive with your questions. What haven’t I told her?”