A Silence in the Heart (Holmes Crossing Book 4) Read online

  A Silence in the Heart

  Carolyne Aarsen

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Excerpt - The Only Best Place

  Excerpt - All In One Place

  Excerpt - This Place

  Chapter 1

  She thought she heard the cry of a child.

  The haunting sound slid through the early-morning quiet just as Tracy stepped out of her car. Still holding the door, she canted her head to one side, listening.

  There it was again. Softer this time.

  Tracy strode around the concrete-block building, trying to pinpoint the origin. But when she came around the side, the street in front of the clinic was empty as well.

  The tension in her shoulders loosened, and she shivered, pulling her thin sweater closer around herself. Ever the optimist, she had left her warmer jacket hanging in the hallway closet of her apartment this morning, counting on the early-September sun to melt away the coolness of the fall morning.

  Then a movement caught her eye.

  She stopped and turned to face whatever might come.

  Then a small boy shuffled cautiously around the corner of the clinic, his head angled down, his thin arms cradling something. He looked to be about six or seven.

  Tracy relaxed as she recognized him. For the past two weeks, she had seen him walking past the clinic in the early morning on his way to school. The last few days, he had stopped to look in the window. It had taken a few encouraging waves and smiles from her to finally tease one from his wary face.

  She always felt bad for him, going to school on his own, remembering too well her own early-morning treks as a young child.

  Tracy might have been inadequately dressed for the weather, but this little boy was even more so. He wore a short-sleeved T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and in spite of the gathering chill, sandals on bare feet. As she watched, he shivered lightly.

  "Hey, there.” Tracy kept her voice low and soft, sensing he might startle easily.

  "I want to see the doctor," he said, sniffing lightly as Tracy came nearer. "This kitten got hurt." He angled her a suspicious glance through the tangle of dark hair hanging in his brown eyes.

  "The veterinarian isn't in yet." Tracy crouched down to see what he was holding. The tiny ball of mangled fur tucked in his arms looked in rough shape. One eye was completely closed, the fur around it matted with blood. A leg hung at an awkward angle. Probably broken.

  "What happened to it?" she asked.

  "I dunno. I just found him laying here." The little boy stood stiffly, his body language defensive. "Can you fix him?"

  Tracy's heart sank. She knew the little boy couldn't pay the vet fees and, from the looks of his clothes, doubted his parents could.

  "Where's your mommy?" she asked, touching the kitten lightly.

  "I dunno."

  Those two words dove into her soul. Too familiar.

  "Is she at your home?"

  He kept his eyes down, looking at his kitten. Tracy looked over his worn clothes and the dried smear of tomato sauce on his face and stained shirt and filled in the blanks. She guessed he had gone to bed looking like this and that there was no one at his home right now.

  "I wanna keep him." The little boy wiped his nose on the shoulder of his T-shirt, a hitch in his voice. "He can be my friend when I'm by myself."

  Tracy's thoughts jumped back in time. She saw herself a young girl of eight, standing in the kitchen of her apartment she and her mother shared, saying the same words, also holding a kitten, hope lingering.

  "Not enough money," her mother had said, though Velma managed to use those same limited funds for lottery tickets and liquor. How Tracy had longed for that kitten. A friend. Someone to hold when there was no one around.

  Tracy pushed herself to her feet. "Let's go inside."

  The boy slanted her a narrow-eyed, wary look, holding back as she unlocked the door and opened it.

  "It's okay," Tracy said. "We have to go inside to look at your kitten."

  He nodded and slowly stepped inside, his head swiveling around, checking out the reception area of the clinic.

  "What's your name?" she asked as the door fell shut behind them.

  "Are you a stranger?" he asked, suspicion edging his voice. "My mom says I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers."

  "I'm a vet technician," she answered, sidestepping the guarded question. "And my name is Tracy Harris."

  He stood in the center of the room, a tightly wound bundle of vigilance, clinging to the kitten like a lifeline. His eyes darted around—assessing, watchful. They met Tracy's as he straightened, as if making a decision. "My name is Kent," he said with a quick lift of his chin. "Kent Cordell."

  She had been given a small gift of trust, and in spite of the kitten that might be dying in his arms, she gave Kent a smile. She skimmed his shoulder with her fingers. "Good to meet you, Kent."

  The back door slammed and a loud singing broke the quiet. Crystal, the other vet technician, burst into the room with her usual dramatic flair, bright orange sweater swirling behind her. "And a good morning to you, my dear," she called out, snatching a knitted hat off her deep red hair, and then stopped when she saw Kent.

  Kent tucked his head over the kitten, his shoulders hunched in defense. Like a turtle, he had withdrawn again.

  Crystal angled her chin at Kent as she tossed her hat on the desk. "Who's the kid?"

  "This is Kent, and I'm bringing him and his kitten to an examining room. As soon as Dr. Harvey comes in, can you send him my way?"

  "Not Dr. Braun?" Crystal asked, her voice holding a teasing tone.

  Tracy was disappointed at the faint blush warming her neck. From the first day David Braun had started at the clinic four months ago, Crystal had been avidly watching the two of them, as if it was only a matter of time before they started dating. Because, you know, two single people were always on the lookout for a mate.

  Negatory.

  Her old relationship with Art was the textbook version of “bad relationship.” And she wasn't putting herself there again.

  But that didn't stop her from feeling extra self-conscious around David—which in turn annoyed her.

  "Just send Dr. Harvey in when he comes," she said.

  Crystal pouted. "Okay, okay. I'll just be in the supply room." She swung around, her lab coat flaring out behind her as she strode down the hall. But from the glance she tossed over her shoulder and the wink she gave, Tracy guessed Crystal hadn't gotten the hint.

  At all.

  David Braun glanced at the clock on the dashboard of his truck as he pulled up beside Tracy's rusted sports car parked behind the vet clinic. Seven thirty. He had planned on beating her here this morning and showing that he could be as punctual and time conscious as she was.

  Guess he'd have to put off the good impression until tomorrow. Then he stepped out of the truck, taking a moment to look around at the town he'd moved to only a few months ago.

  The chill morning air held the scent of fall. Moldering leaves and the acrid scent of burning.

  Beyond him, nestled along the river flowing through Holmes Crossing, he could see houses guarded by sm
ooth-barked aspen trees, their golden and orange leaves illuminating the morning. Past them, standing guard over the town on one side, the railroad tracks on the other, were the old weathered grain elevators, the names of the feed companies now faded by time.

  The changing of the season brought a touch of melancholy tinged with guilt. In a couple of weeks, Heather's family would be convening in the nearby town of Freeman for the first anniversary of his former fiancée's death. Though he had long moved on from that sad place, he felt he owed it to Heather's family to show up.

  Through the last months of Heather's life, David had gone through the motions of a relationship that had faded away months before her diagnosis of cancer. In fact, he had been trying to find a way to break up with her when she got the news. So he had stayed with her, and when she'd died, he had felt a guilty sense of freedom.

  Two months ago, he moved from Grande Prairie to here and met Tracy. Cute, spunky, and willful. She had a curious appeal, and he was intrigued by her.

  Trouble was, she wasn't as intrigued by him and kept him at a prickly arm's length.

  Just his luck.

  "Bright and early. That's my boy."

  David spun around at the sound of the rough voice. Crystal stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over a lab coat. "Glad you came in early. Tracy's in one of the treatment rooms with a kitten and a kid."

  "A client? Already?"

  "No rest for the wicked." Crystal waved him on and added a wink. "Go and impress that girl with my blessing." And before he could protest, she was gone.

  David just rolled his eyes and then followed the sound of Tracy's voice filtering down the hall.

  "We'll just lay it down here now, okay?" she was saying, which was followed by a murmured response.

  He paused in the doorway of one of the treatment rooms. Tracy stood in profile to him, her eyes intent on a small kitten slumped on the stainless-steel table, her dark eyebrows pulled together in a frown. Across from her, a little boy stood on a stool, looking as attentively as she at the animal.

  Tracy's dark hair framed her face, a contrast to the little boy with his long hair hanging past his eyes. But there was a similarity to their features that caught his attention. Was he related?

  Not that she would tell him anyway. All he'd ever learned about Tracy's history was a brief mention of a mother, who, he discovered via Crystal, had been out of Tracy's life for some time. And she wouldn't say why.

  Tracy glanced sideways, as if sensing his presence, and then straightened. "David. I'm so glad you're here. This kitten. It's not . . ." She stopped, angling a quick look at the little boy, who had backed quickly into a corner of the room, head down. "Please. Have a look at it."

  He was taken aback by her muddled words and by the boy's defensive posture. Tracy's fine veneer of reserve had been both a challenge and a barrier when he'd first met her, but she seemed flustered right now.

  "Please," she asked, stepping toward him, her one hand lifted as if in supplication.

  "What's wrong?" He ventured a smile and was rewarded with a surprising lift of her lips that did funny things to his heart.

  "The left Achilles tendon is severed," she told him, all business now as she stepped aside for him.

  David gently palpated the abdomen, lifted the back leg, pushing aside the matted fur to check. "Any blood work done?" David murmured, lifting an eyelid.

  "Not yet."

  David glanced at the little boy who was staring at him, his expression guarded and wary.

  "This is Kent," Tracy said, her expression softening as she looked down at the little boy. She looked almost maternal. "He's the one who found the kitten."

  "Hi, there, Kent. I'm Dr. Braun," David said with a smile.

  Kent just nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor.

  "We'll see what we can do." David straightened. "He'll have to wait outside, though."

  Kent looked up at that, and David caught a fleeting glimpse of fear cross his features.

  Tracy laid her hand on his narrow shoulder. "It will be okay, Kent. Dr. Braun can fix your kitty." Tracy glanced up at David, her eyebrows raised in question.

  David shrugged one shoulder in a vague gesture. He wasn't about to make any promises. The animal looked in rough shape.

  Tracy ushered the reluctant boy out of the room, speaking to him in a low, encouraging voice. Kent didn't look as if he was buying her assurances, but he went along anyway.

  David turned back to the kitten. It was so small, its skin so fragile. It would require a delicate hand. And even then . . .

  "I've got him settled. For now." Tracy closed the door behind her, leaning against it, her dark eyes intent on his. "What's the prognosis?"

  "I won't know for sure until we get the X-rays back. But for now, I see it's going to take a fair bit of work. Is the boy's mother here?"

  "I'll pay for it." Her voice was firm.

  "What I'm saying is it might die in spite of what I'm going to do," he murmured.

  She tugged on her lip, wavering. "But you'll do it."

  David looked at the kitten, still hesitating. The cost would be high. The chances slim. Why did this matter to her? "Is the boy a relative?"

  "No. I found him at the front of the clinic, holding the kitten."

  He nodded, giving her a puzzled glance. "So why are you willing to do this?"

  "Because it matters to him." The decisive note in her voice told him that was all he would get for now.

  "It sounds like it matters to you, too," David said gently.

  She relaxed at that, gave him another smile, more open than the first, and David felt that funny little flip again.

  "It does."

  "Then let's get going."

  "Heart is still steady, thankfully," Tracy said to David, unhooking the stethoscope from her ears. "I don't think I can go much lower on the anesthetic."

  She adjusted the cone over the kitten's mouth and nose and tightened the band behind its ears.

  "So far so good, little guy," she whispered, adjusting the surgical drapes over its tiny body. Beyond the door, she heard Crystal chatting with Kent, although the conversation sounded mostly one-sided. She had tried to convince Kent to let Crystal bring him to school, but he adamantly refused to leave.

  "Grab the clamps, please."

  Tracy reached under David's hands, holding pressure on the handles holding the tendon. The kitten was so small, they had to work closely together. Tracy caught a whiff of his aftershave as he stitched, a pleasantly distracting scent that overrode the pervasive scent of old plastic coming from the vaporizer.

  He turned his head, and for a flash, their eyes met.

  Tracy looked hastily down, surprised at her frisson of awareness. Okay, so he was good-looking, if your tastes ran to tousled blond hair and deep-set eyes. So he was, well, nice.

  A dull word that didn't explain the appeal that was alternately confusing and frightening. Art had taught her hard-enough lessons on the value of keeping herself unattached. She didn't like how David managed to make her feel, but didn't know how to change it other than to quit working here. Which she'd never do. Working with animals was her sanctuary. They never let you down. Never broke your heart.

  She'd simply have to find a way to keep David at an emotional distance. Focus on her plans that had nothing to do with any guy.

  "Hold the leg, please," David murmured, pulling a pre-threaded needle from a plastic case. His large hands danced in intricate movements as he spun the suture thread around the forceps, tying off, each movement precise and sure. He was good at what he did. Quicker and more confident than Dr. Harvey. So far, they had only been at work for an hour and a quarter, and they were almost done.

  "Cut the ends long," David said as he straightened. "You don't want to be digging around too much to get the stitches out."

  "You do good work," Tracy said, swabbing the area once more.

  "Thanks."

  "You sound surprised." Tracy glanced up at him, puzzled by the tone of h
is voice.

  A crooked smile lifted one corner of his mouth, creasing one cheek. "You're not one for lots of compliments. That's all."

  He picked up the assorted forceps and scissors, dropping them into the metal tray with a clang and stripping off the surgical gloves.

  "Well, I appreciate the time you took to work on this kitten."

  "Do you know this little boy?"

  "I've seen him off and on going past the office." Tracy untied the mask and eased it off the kitten's head. "This morning was the first time I talked to him. I don't know if he even owns the kitten."

  "A stray?"

  "I think so. But like I said, I'll pay for it."

  "It's not a problem, Tracy," David said, stroking one large finger down the side of the kitten's head. He looked up at her, still smiling.

  And Tracy felt that dangerous yearning once again.

  The moment was broken by the click of the door opening, and Alan Harvey entered the room. "My two favorite people, hard at work already. Crystal said you had a badly injured kitten. Need any help?"

  "Just finished," David said, tossing the latex gloves into the garbage can in the corner. "Broken pelvis and a severed Achilles tendon."

  "Looks like everything here is under control." Alan Harvey brushed his thinning hair back over his head and adjusted his pants over his broad stomach as if preparing for a hard day's work. "So, Tracy, what's on tap for me today?"

  "You've got an appointment at the Andrews ranch to do some herd health work, Casey Brashears wants you to declaw his cat, and Steenbergens need some preg testing done." Tracy leveled a warning frown at him as she wrapped the discarded tools in the used surgical drapes. "So no pie and coffee with Dan and Leslie, no stopping at Terra’s café, and no chitchat with the other customers. You get behind, you get stressed, and you know what your own doctor said about that."