The Place I Belong (29 page)

“Sure. Fine. Thanks.” Hannah thrust the door back so Lucy could tug her burden inside. “Let me guess. There’s chicken soup in there.”

“Three kinds,” Lucy said, following Hannah into the kitchen after she said hello to the canine greeting committee. “And lots of other goodies.”

“How did Mr. Bosch find out I’m sick?”

“Oh lord, everyone finds out everything here in Sanctuary,” Lucy said. She flipped up the top of the cooler and began stowing containers in the refrigerator. “To tell the truth, I volunteered to come. Mr. Bosch was as cranky as a black bear who can’t get the lid off a garbage can.”

That startled a snort of laughter out of Hannah as she pictured Adam wrestling with a galvanized-metal can.

“My granny always told me laughter’s the best medicine,” Lucy said. She brushed her hands together in a gesture of accomplishment. “There. It’s all put away. Everything’s labeled with contents and warming directions.”

“Is Mr. Bosch often cranky?” Hannah asked.

“Hardly ever.” Lucy tilted her head as though considering. “He looked kind of tired when I first came in, but it wasn’t until he burst out of his office, saying he needed to make chicken soup, that he seemed kind of upset.” She looked at Hannah. “I guess he’s worried about you.”

Hannah sank onto a stool. Had he forgiven her? “Is there any caviar in there?”

Lucy frowned at the array of nonperishables on the counter. “Caviar? I don’t think so. Mr. Bosch probably thought a sick person wouldn’t like the strong taste of it. But if you want, I’ll ask him for some.”

“No, no,
please
don’t do that,” Hannah said, waving her hands frantically as though to erase her words. “I was joking.” She didn’t know what possessed her to ask that. Except that it might have meant Adam wanted to see her again.

Lucy picked up the handle of the cooler. “I’m sorry I woke you, but I wasn’t going back to face Mr. Bosch without delivering the food.” Her heels clicked on the tile floor of the foyer as she rolled the cooler to the door and waved. “Hope you feel better real soon!”

Hannah followed her to bolt the door before padding back into the kitchen. Pulling open the refrigerator door, she randomly chose one of the pale-green containers marked with the soaring-eagle logo of The Aerie. Handwritten on the top was “Curried Chicken Soup. Heat in a saucepan to desired temperature.” She didn’t know if it was Adam’s writing or not, but it was bold and finished with a flourish. She picked up another container. “Hearty Chicken Soup.” Same cooking directions. Finally, there was “Chicken, Brie, and Artichoke Soup.”

Lucy said Adam had made it for her. She had a vision of him standing in front of the stove, his hands hovering over the ingredients, choosing the ones he thought she’d like the best. She closed the refrigerator door. “Time to go back to bed before you get any more pathetic.”

When the barking dogs jerked her awake for the third time, she discovered her fever had broken, leaving her pajamas and the sheets soaked in sweat. “Ugh,” she said, climbing out of bed and flipping the covers back to air out.

The doorbell was ringing, but she couldn’t greet a visitor in her soggy pj’s so she quickly changed into new ones and grabbed her robe. Shuffling to the door as she finger-combed her damp hair, she squinted through the glass to see the vivid, red mane of Paul’s wife, Julia. The artist carried a glass vase of tall,
yellow
flowers in one hand and had a picnic basket hooked over her other arm.

By now Hannah had resigned herself to the fact that people took care of each other in a small town whether you wanted them to or not. Maybe she’d call the dog walker back, as her sleep kept getting interrupted anyway.

Hannah tightened the belt on her robe and cracked open the door, hoping Julia would hand her the flowers and basket
and leave
.

“Oh, dear, you look terrible,” Julia said, her gaze sympathetic. Then she looked horrified. “I mean, you look like you
feel
terrible.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure both are true,” Hannah said. Julia’s faux pas had dissolved her annoyance, so she opened the door wide.

“I won’t stay long, but Claire was worried when she found out you were sick. She got tied up at the gallery, so she sent me with her food.” Julia stepped inside and set the vase down on the hall table. “I added the Dancing Lady orchids because I think beauty helps heal just as much as chicken soup does.”

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 l
aced 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 b
etween 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 feels 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.