A Silence in the Heart (Holmes Crossing Book 4) Page 13

  She wanted to leave but was held here by the gentle snare of politeness and, in spite of herself and the solid proof of his previous love, by David's presence.

  And that was the worst of it.

  "This was toward the end of her life," Linda said, gently turning a page, smoothing her hand over it. Heather sat up in a hospital bed, her smile forced, a brightly colored turban covering her head. Not a strand of blonde hair in sight. David sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders, looking at her with a mixture of sorrow and love.

  Tracy swallowed. Even with all her hair gone, tubes snaking out of her arms, Heather still looked angelic. Beautiful. A courageous woman with the man who loved her at her side.

  "David spent a lot of time with her at the end," Linda said. "He quit work to take care of her. He was extremely devoted."

  It was as if each word she spoke pushed David higher and higher up a pedestal, closer to Heather and farther away from her. David, the paragon of virtue and devoted fiancé.

  Then, at last, Linda closed the book, giving it to David. He ran his hands lightly over the cover. "We want to give this to you as a remembrance of our dear daughter and your fiancée."

  "Thanks for this," he said to Emily, placing the book carefully on the low coffee table. "It's something I'll treasure for a long time."

  Emily reached down and hugged him from behind. "I'm so glad you live close by now, David. It means so much to all of us."

  Tracy fought self-pity and the most unwelcome urge to cry. Today had been bad enough without having to watch the members of this family laying their claim to a man she was falling in love with. A man she had nothing to offer that even came within whispering distance with what this family was to him and what they could give him.

  She couldn't stay any longer.

  "Excuse me," she murmured, getting up, making it seem as if she simply needed to go to the washroom.

  She picked up her purse and left the room. She went downstairs, following the sounds of laughter to a large open room. Four faces were turned with rapt expressions to the television.

  Kent barely noticed her when she came and crouched down beside him. "I'm going to go for a walk. When Dr. David is finished visiting, tell him I'll meet you guys at the Rotary Park, okay?"

  Kent nodded, his attention on the television.

  Tracy left quietly, feeling like a sneak as she closed the door behind her. She should have gone upstairs again and apologized for leaving, but she was afraid if she did, she would start to cry. She had done enough of that in her life. Besides, there was no way she was breaking down in front of David.

  And Perfect Heather's family.

  She walked quickly down the driveway, staying out of sight of the front-room windows, and then struck out toward the park a few blocks away.

  I've had better days, she thought as she strode down the walk. Much better days.

  But then, she'd had worse as well.

  Only God is faithful, she reminded herself. Only God is faithful.

  Tracy was sitting on a bench, her arms crossed over her stomach, watching a group of kids throwing sand at each other. David parked his truck, keeping his eyes on Tracy as if afraid she would run away again.

  Once he'd found out from Kent that Tracy had snuck out of the house, he had stayed as long as he deemed polite, and then he'd left as well. Guilt over his deception with Tracy battled his obligation to Heather's family. But his future won over his past, and as soon as he dared, he left, resisting the family's gentle pressure.

  "Can you stay here, please?" He turned to Kent, who was sitting in the front seat.

  Kent just nodded and turned his attention back to a battery-powered handheld game Max, Emily's son, had given him.

  Tracy looked up when he approached, and then looked away. At least she didn't run away. He sat down beside her, resting his elbows on his knees, rooting around for the right words, the correct thing to say to her.

  "I'm sorry about the family thing," he said, wanting to touch her. To reconnect with her life and vitality. "I should have told you why we were getting together."

  "That's okay," she interrupted, her voice soft. Reasonable and unemotional. "It was none of my business."

  But David wished she would make it some of her business. Wished she would open up to him a bit more so he could reassure her that Heather was in the past. That their engagement hadn't been as real as the family had alluded to. That Heather had made it up and he had played along with it because what did it matter? She was dying, and it was such a small thing to give to her.

  But he didn't even know if it mattered to Tracy. If he mattered to her.

  She got up. "I shouldn't have barged into your family gathering like that. I'm sorry." Her polite smile and cool demeanor kept his confidences buttoned away.

  As David followed her to the truck, he bit back a sigh of frustration. It was as if the kiss between them before he'd dropped her off had never happened. As if he had imagined that precious moment of vulnerability she had shown just before she left the truck.

  And then she got into the back with Kent, and he guessed what she was doing. Building that wall again.

  "Look what I got, Tracy," Kent said, waving the handheld game at her as she got in the truck. "Max gave it to me. He's a nice guy."

  "Wow. You'll have to show me how it works," Tracy said, slipping her arm protectively around the boy and pulling him close.

  "So you had no idea your mother wasn't going to be home?" David asked, starting the truck, grabbing for anything that would start some type of conversation.

  Tracy's only reply was a quick shake of her head. "Can I try?" Tracy asked Kent, reaching for the game.

  They bent over the tiny screen, electronic blips signaling Tracy's progress or lack of it. Tracy was completely relaxed around Kent. Smiling and laughing.

  But all the way home, she not only avoided looking at David and giving him any indication of what was going on in her mind, but she also said nothing to him at all.

  He pulled up in front of her apartment, slowing more than necessary, trying to buy some time. Tracy slipped her purse over her shoulder and unbuckled Kent, fussing over him.

  When he came to a stop, she already had one hand on the door. How could he stop her? He didn't know if she even cared that Heather had at one time been his fiancée instead of the girlfriend he'd said she was.

  He didn't know because she didn't ask.

  "Thanks for the ride," she said, favoring him with a quick glance as she started to open the door.

  "Wait a minute." He took a chance and touched her shoulder. "I, uh . . .”

  Quick. Talk.

  "I feel like I should explain . . . about Heather."

  "David, I told you, it's none of my business."

  "I'd like it to be," he said, not letting go of her even as she tried to ease away. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about how things really were between me and Heather. It just . . . didn't seem important enough to bring up."

  She still wouldn't look at him. Still wouldn't meet his gaze.

  "It's okay, David. I understand."

  Empty words. Blanks meant to carefully push him away even as she pulled from his touch.

  "Do you have everything, Kent?" she asked the little boy, taking his hand. "We should go."

  Kent nodded and turned to David, favoring him with a quick smile. "Bye, Dr. David. See you later."

  He scrambled out of the truck after Tracy, who strode up the walk without a second glance.

  As the apartment door fell shut behind them, David slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration.

  Tracy knew exactly how to freeze him out. It was like trying to grab hold of a mist, trying to talk to a wavering reflection in water. Always changing, never the same.

  Complicated. Way too complicated.

  Stay away from her.

  He pushed the truck in gear and spun away from the curb, taking small satisfaction in the squeal of the tires and the revving of the engine.


  Chapter 12

  "So. How did it go with your mom?"

  Danielle's overly cheery voice through her phone grated, but Tracy dismissed her own reaction. Petty. Small.

  "It didn't," she said, glancing at Kent, who lay on the carpet in front of the television, his chin resting in his hands, elbows on the carpet. His bare feet swayed back and forth in time to the lively music of the video. He would be okay for a while.

  "And why not?" Danielle sounded slightly more subdued, and Tracy felt a little more gracious. "Wasn't she home?"

  "She wasn't sober." The sight of her mother all dressed up and wavering in the doorway of her home kept creeping like a snake into her mind, seeping like poison into every part of her life that Tracy thought she had salvaged.

  Danielle's silence spoke of shared memories and broken dreams, and Tracy had to bite her lip against the newly resurrected pain. Why did her mother manage to do this again and again?

  "So I left and ended up at Emily's, where David was, and found out that dear Heather, the girlfriend, wasn't just a girlfriend. She was his fiancée."

  "They were engaged?"

  "And the reason David had to make a trip to Freeman was to commemorate, with her perfectly intact and sober family, the first anniversary of perfect Heather's death." She slid down to the floor, still watching Kent, her hand wrapped around her phone. She and Danielle had spent many an hour this way, sharing, talking, even after seeing each other all day at school.

  "That's not very long ago."

  "And she was not only the girl he wanted to marry, she was a wonderful, kind, caring Christian woman who had two normal parents, who loved animals, wanted children, and desired world peace." Tracy bit her lip. "As opposed to materialistic and shallow me who's never been to a Faith Alive women's retreat, scarlet woman that I am, and whose heart beats faster at the idea of ten acres, a milk cow, and twelve chickens."

  "Lost the clothes line?"

  "Upgraded to clothes dryer." Tracy sighed. "They were going to get married, Danielle. I bet he's just going out with me 'cause he's lonely."

  "Maybe there's another reason."

  "I doubt it. If there was, you'd think he would have told me about Heather." Tracy found a loose string on the bottom cuff of her blue jeans and tugged on it.

  "Who was supposedly perfect," Danielle added, her voice holding a note of irony.

  "She was beautiful and kind and caring. Which makes me wonder why David got involved with me."

  "Guys don't like to be alone much. Mom was only dead six months and Dad was already dating."

  "Sounds like you still have issues with your dad over that."

  Danielle sighed heavily. "I do. But the boys didn't seem to have huge problems with it at all. Typical guys."

  "Well, at least your dad didn't get remarried," Tracy assured her. "That would have been hard."

  "Why should he get remarried when he's got me to take care of him and my brothers?" Tracy heard the edge in Danielle's words.

  "You need to find someone of your own."

  "I just broke up with Anthony. I'm not ready for that yet."

  "I can see that. Besides, a good man is hard to find."

  "And you don't think you have?"

  Tracy pursed her lips, as if considering. "David's not perfect, but . . ." Tracy tugged on another string, fraying the cuff even further. "I can't get past this engaged thing. Heather died only a year ago. Maybe I'm just rebound. Like you said, guys don't like to be alone." Tracy sighed out her frustration and sorrow.

  "Okay, I hear a lot of soul-searching in that exhalation of breath."

  "And that infamous L-word. As in falling in love." Tracy sighed again, hesitant to speak, yet, in true girl fashion, wanting to share the emotions. To make them more real by saying them aloud.

  "Oh boy."

  "Oh man, more like. And just as that's happening, I discover he's got this perfect, blonde, strong Christian fiancée who died fighting a courageous battle. She sounded like she could be a lot of fun, and she was pretty."

  "Ghosts are tough competition. They're frozen in time, and all that's left are memories that can't be tarnished or changed. And you know how that works."

  "Yeah. You only remember the good things. That's how my mother got to me all the time."

  "Aw, Trace. I'm so sorry."

  "It's okay." The music slipped away, and Tracy craned her neck to see what Kent was up to. The movie had changed pace and he was still watching.

  "Well, you may as well know I called you for another reason," Danielle said. "I got a call on my cell phone Saturday evening. Edgar Stinson."

  "What did he want?"

  "He claims to be Kent's grandfather."

  Dread caught Tracy in an icy grip. "No way. He can't be. Kent always calls Steve uncle."

  "It doesn't matter right now anyway. We still haven't found Kent's mom, and she has first say in what happens to the boy. Don't worry."

  "And what if you don't find her? Do I start worrying then?"

  "I'll do the worrying. You just make sure Kent is safe."

  "So far so good." Tracy pushed herself up to her feet. "Hey, it's been a long day. I gotta go."

  "Okay. Hey, girl, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you to go see your mom."

  "Don't worry. You know the song. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice . . ."

  "Or four or five."

  More like two hundred and five. "Don't worry. Just a reminder of why I try not to think of her too much. Gotta go. Take care."

  Tracy hung up the phone and pulled her hands over her face. Too much information to carry for one day. Edgar claiming to be Kent's grandfather. Her mother. Heather.

  David.

  She focused on what she had to do for now. Keep Kent safe. That was all she needed to do. She went into the living room and dropped onto the floor beside Kent. He looked up at her with a light frown. "When can we go see my kitty?"

  Tracy felt a light hitch to her heart. "Dr. David has it at his place now. You'll have to ask him."

  Kent just nodded and turned back to the television. Tracy sat beside him, staring unseeingly at the screen, her mind a kaleidoscope of thoughts, pictures. Impressions. She needed to let go of today. Focus on Kent and tomorrow.

  The credits came up, and Tracy turned off the television. "Bedtime, little guy," she said.

  "But I don't want to go to bed," he said, a faint whine entering his voice. "I'm not tired." But his red ears and rosy cheeks told her another story.

  "I won't leave you alone," she said, stroking his still-bath-damp hair away from his face. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep. Okay?" Last night, she'd let Kent fall asleep in her bed and then she'd moved him onto the foam mattress she had laid out on the floor.

  Kent sighed lightly and then nodded.

  She supervised his toothbrushing, made sure he went to the bathroom, rationed out his last drink of the night, and ushered him into her bedroom. When he was settled in her bed, she lay down on the covers beside him.

  The light of her bedside table made his dark eyes look like twin pools of night and cast gentle shadows over his soft features. She felt safe and snug in here with him. Tucked away from all the concerns that crouched outside the door, waiting for her insecure self to come out so they could dig their tenacious claws into her. All the voices that had echoed through her life: unworthy, unimportant, unnecessary.

  "Do you want to learn a bedtime prayer?" Tracy asked, leaning on her elbow, dragging out the moment.

  Kent frowned. "What's a prayer?"

  Good question. "It's talking to God." Or begging Him for help. Tracy couldn't stop a faint flush of guilt. She knew she didn't pray as sincerely or as often as she should. Heather'd probably never had to worry about foxhole prayers. Heather's life was probably one long, dedicated, and sincere prayer.

  Those thoughts were for outside the bedroom. She was in here with Kent, and he was her focus for now.

  "How will He hear me?" Kent asked, running his finge
rs over the sheet Tracy had tucked over his chest. "I thought He was in heaven."

  "He's everywhere." Tracy covered his hand with hers and squeezed lightly, a feeling of maternal love blossoming in her. "And even better. He never sleeps."

  "Ever?" Kent pulled his head back, looking puzzled. "Not even when He's tired?" Tracy smiled and toyed with his fingers. "He never gets tired and He never even yawns." At the mention of the word, Tracy stifled her own yawn.

  "Okay. Teach me the prayer."

  "Actually it's more of a song. It's called 'Jesus, Tender Shepherd, Hear Me,' and it was written a long time ago."

  "I don't sing good," Kent whispered.

  "That's okay," Tracy whispered back. "Neither do I. But no one else can hear us except God, and He thinks we sound great." She took a gentle breath and began:

  Jesus, tender shepherd, hear me,

  Bless this little lamb tonight,

  Through the darkness be thou near me,

  Keep me safe till morning light.

  Kent blinked and then smiled sleepily. "Sing it again."

  And as she did, her mind slipped back to other nights when her mother had lain on the bed with her, just as she was doing with Kent now. Her mother's voice surrounding her, comforting her. Her hand lying gently on her arm, protecting her and keeping her safe. Only, it had happened so seldom.

  "Is Jesus tender shepherd watching over my mommy too?" Kent whispered, his voice wavering.

  Tracy gently stroked his hair back from his forehead. "Yes, He is," she said. Her own feelings for Kent wove through her memories of her mother, of evenings spent together. Of the love she had seen glimpses of.

  Please, Lord, do watch over Kent's mom. Wherever she is, Tracy prayed.

  In spite of her own affection for the boy, she also knew how Kent truly felt. The yearning he had for his own mother. And again she felt the twinge of jealousy. And behind it, anger.

  Children are such a gift. Did her mother not see that? Did Kent's mother not see that?

  She kissed Kent again and, with her thumbs, stroked away the tears that had slipped out of the corners of his eyes. "You have a good sleep, Kent," she said.