A Silence in the Heart (Holmes Crossing Book 4) Page 14

  He just nodded, turned his head, and closed his eyes.

  Tracy stayed with him until his breathing deepened and slowed and his fingers began twitching.

  She carefully eased herself off the bed and out of the room, leaving the door open slightly so she could hear him if he cried out.

  The apartment was suddenly horribly quiet. And empty. She shuddered and walked over to her stereo, turning it on. Light classical music flowed out of the speakers, and she turned it up just a little. Enough to push away the silence.

  Shattered by the buzzing of the intercom.

  Her heart lurched at the unexpected sound, and she ran for it, hoping its shrill sound wouldn't wake Kent.

  "Hello?" she said, wondering who would come calling this time of the night.

  "Hi, Tracy. It's David. I know it's late, but can I come up?"

  Tracy pressed her hand against her chest, stilling a heartbeat that, if anything, had increased even more. What did David want from her? Hadn't the day been enough of an emotional drain? Did she really want to talk to him when they couldn't find anything to say on the long drive home?

  But the thought of David standing on her doorstep altered the rhythm of her heart, tugged at deeper, slightly thrilling emotions, and before she could convince herself this wasn't a good idea, she pressed the button that would unlock the door.

  While she waited, she smoothed her hands over her hair, straightened her shirt.

  A quick knock at her apartment door made her swallow, take a deep breath, and walk unsteadily to open it.

  David stood in the hallway, his shoulders hunched, his hands tucked in the front pockets of his blue jeans. He had changed to a loose dark sweater that accented the hazel of his eyes as it flowed over the breadth of his shoulders.

  "Hey, there," he said, shifting his weight to his other foot as he gave her a careful smile, held her gaze with deep-set eyes. "I didn't know if you'd be up, but I saw your light on." He shrugged. "So I took a chance."

  "Come on in." She stood aside, holding the door with two hands for support, her heart fluttering in her throat as he stepped past her.

  "Danielle phoned me . . ." He lifted one shoulder in a vague gesture, as if unsure of what else he wanted to say. "Told me about Edgar. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with Kent."

  Tracy carefully closed the door, as if her very life depended on making sure the latch clicked just so, disappointment mingling with her practical nature. Of course David would want to check on Kent.

  She didn't know what to say either, so she fixed on the ordinary. The easy fix and a quick escape. "He's okay. Did you want some tea or coffee?" she asked, turning and walking past him to the kitchen.

  "I don't want to be any trouble."

  You already are, she thought, wishing her heart wouldn't jump around her chest like some hyperactive child just at the sound of his deep voice.

  But it wasn't a no.

  "I often drink tea at night," she said, pulling out her kettle. Filling it with water. A simple job she performed every day. But usually just for herself. Danielle, when she came over. Sometimes for the occasional visitor she would have.

  The last man she had done this for was Art.

  Great, she thought, plunking the kettle down on the stove and snapping on the flame underneath it. Why not pull him out of your messy memory chest too? You don't have enough ammunition from today to keep yourself permanently humbled and humiliated?

  Enough. Enough.

  Cast your cares on the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall. The words from Psalm 52 slipped into her mind. Like a storm-tossed shipwreck survivor, she grabbed and clung to the passage, letting the words settle in. Cast your cares on the Lord.

  She imagined herself letting go of the burden of hurt, pride, and pain, letting it drop for Jesus to pick up.

  She took a long breath, allowing the peace to settle on her shoulders instead.

  She didn't throw herself into your arms, so now what are you going to do? Stay here and try to begin the talk you couldn't manage in the truck? Try to explain about Heather and get yourself snarled even further in the tangle of trying to figure out what, if any, relationship you and Tracy have?

  David sighed and sank back into the soft embrace of the armchair as he watched Tracy fuss in the kitchen, immediately regretting his choice. It would be impossible to make a graceful exit out of here if things went bad.

  Guess he was committed now.

  When Danielle had phoned him to tell him about Edgar Stinson's angry phone call, the first thing David had thought was that he now had a legitimate reason to stop in and see Tracy.

  Now he wasn't so sure it had been such a good idea. He'd known Tracy wasn't going to throw herself at him when he came to the door, but he had hoped for a little more than the polite nod she gave him.

  In the kitchen, he heard the faint scrape of cups, the clink of spoons, and then the splash of water being poured into a teapot.

  "Do you need any help?" he asked, trying to work his way out of the chair and into her good graces.

  But gravity and spongy cushions held him in their grip.

  Tracy came out of the kitchen holding a tray, a careful smile skirting her lips. That was promising.

  "It's okay. I'm all done." She set the tray down and then frowned at him as he struggled to get to the edge of the chair, his elbows sinking into the soft arms. "I'm sorry," she said, her smile growing warm as he eased his way forward. "I should have warned you about the hostage chair."

  Her grin made David grateful for the acrobatics he had to perform to get himself to the edge of the chair. If it made her happy, he was happy.

  "I'd say it's taking no prisoners, but I can't seem to get free." David pushed again and inched himself forward enough to shift his center of balance. One more push was all it would take.

  "You want some help?" Tracy held out her hand.

  David looked up at her smiling face and then grasped her hand. One tug and he was standing up in front of her. But he didn't let go. Couldn't. She was so close, he caught the almond smell of her shampoo. He wanted to touch her. Connect.

  "Worrying about you and Kent wasn't the only reason I came by," he said, still holding her hand.

  She didn't say anything, but neither did she pull his hand out of hers.

  "I didn't like the way our day ended." He avoided her gaze as he toyed with her fingers, buying time.

  One of her nails was blue, and he remembered a grimace of pain when her finger was caught in a cattle squeeze at the Doerksens' farm. She was tough. And independent. And she wasn't going to ask him for anything.

  "I don't know what you mean." She spoke quietly but didn't pull her hand out of his.

  He snared her gaze now. "I know I said it already, but I'm sorry about this afternoon. About Heather."

  She glanced quickly away. "It's okay, David. I came to a family gathering I had no right to attend. If my mother had been . . ." Then she tried to pull her hands away. Retreat.

  But David wouldn't let go so easily. "I should have told you about me and Heather, but I didn't know if you and me were a we or just a you and me trying to figure out if we could be a we." David paused as his words registered in his befuddled brain. "And may I try that over again? I sound like one of the three little pigs."

  Tracy laughed.

  Well, he'd accomplished something. He pushed a little further.

  "What I'm trying to say is this whole you-and-me thing is at a funny stage. I want it to go somewhere, but I'm not sure if you do. I’m sorry I didn’t mention the truth about Heather’s and my relationship."

  "It was a shock," Tracy said, looking down at their entwined hands.

  "The truth is, I had wanted to break up with her for some time, but our families were so connected. Neighbors, friends, and all that. Then when I finally built up the courage to end the relationship, we found out she had cancer. I couldn't break up with her then. When we found out it was inoperable,
she asked me if I would please propose to her. She didn't want to die single. So I agreed. I'm not sorry I did it." He paused, praying Tracy understood. "I'm just sorry I didn't tell you. And I didn't because it wasn't a big deal to me. It was a small gift I could give her. Nothing more than that."

  Tracy's fingers tightened on his, and when she lifted her face, her smile shone like a light in the gloom that had fallen since this afternoon. "You are a wonderful man, David Braun."

  "And you are a wonderful person. And I wish I could have met your mother."

  Wrong thing to say. Tracy's smile drifted off her face, and she lowered her eyes. Just like the last time he mentioned her mother.

  But he wasn't going to let her pull away. Not now.

  He took a chance, gently ran his finger down her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand drifting down to her shoulder and lingering there. She didn't move, and the deep brown of her eyes grew darker.

  Then he bent his head and touched his lips to hers. To his surprise, she responded, pulling closer, deepening the kiss.

  His heart jumped in his chest as her arms tightened around him. He held her close, his heart drumming, his breathlessness created by this slight woman in his arms.

  A sigh of contentment slipped past his lips, teasing her hair as he brushed a light kiss on her temple. He had loved before, but this was new territory to him.

  Tracy was nothing like Heather, and his feelings for her were richer, stronger, and deeper. This feels so right, he thought.

  "No. You can't do that."

  The sharp cry of anguish dragged them apart. Sent the emotions of the moment scattering like startled snowbirds.

  "No. No. No." Kent ran at David, his arms flailing. Trying to push him away from Tracy, hitting him. "No. You can't. You stay away."

  David caught the child's hands and held them as hard as he dared without hurting him. "It's okay, Kent. It's me. Dr. David."

  It was like trying to hold on to a thrashing snake. Kent's foot connected with David's shin, his hand twisted out of David's grip, and Kent smacked him hard on his stomach.

  "Stop it, Kent." Tracy tried to grab the boy, now twisting in David's grip.

  "Don't, Tracy. He'll hurt you." David grunted as Kent managed to land another kick.

  "You're a bad man. You're bad," Kent wailed, tugging and writhing in David's grasp.

  David managed to get Kent's arms behind his back and held the boy close to him, wishing he could absorb the little boy's pain. The obvious sorrow that heaved in his chest.

  Kent squirmed once more and then suddenly wilted against David, all the fight gone out of him, sobs now wracking his body.

  David crouched down, holding the little boy close, stroking his head lightly as he tried to soothe him. "It's okay, Kent. I'm not the bad man. You know that."

  Tracy knelt beside them, her hand on Kent's back, making slow circles, talking quietly to him as well. She bit her lip as her eyes met David's, silent questions and speculation arching between them. The moment was gone, but the promise of it lay in her wistful smile.

  Kent's cries slowly subsided, his tears soaking through David's sweater. David didn't dare let go until he knew for sure the boy was calmer.

  "Did you have a bad dream?" David asked, slowly easing Kent away from him. He wanted to read what he could in the little boy's eyes.

  Kent scrubbed the tears from his cheeks with the palms of his hands. Wiped his nose with the sleeve of his pajamas, but kept his head down. "I thought . . . I thought . . ." He hiccuped, sucked in a wobbly breath. "I thought you was . . . was . . . Uncle Steve."

  David frowned at Tracy, who nodded at him as if she understood what Kent was talking about.

  "But you know he isn't, don't you?" Tracy said. She sat down on the floor and drew the little boy into her arms, cradling him on her lap as she rested her chin on his head. "You know that this is Dr. David."

  Kent sniffed and nodded as Tracy rocked him. Soothed him. "Dr. David is a good man. He won't hurt you. Ever. Remember how he helped your kitty? He made it all better. Dr. David knows how to make things better." Her voice was pitched low, her cadence comforting.

  David sat down beside her, resting his arm on his up-raised knee, smiling at Tracy's defense of him, suddenly feeling like a better person than he actually was.

  "Does Dr. David still have my kitty?" Kent whispered, his head tucked into Tracy's neck.

  "I do, Kent," David said. "Maybe tomorrow, after work, I can take you to see him?"

  Kent turned his head slightly, catching David's eye. He blinked, and David was pleased to see a smile tremble on his lips. "I miss my kitty," he mumbled, and then sniffed again. "And I miss my mommy."

  "Of course you do." Tracy gently fingered his hair back from his face. "And I'm sure your mommy misses you."

  "I don't wanna go to bed," Kent said. "I'm scared."

  "You can stay with us until you fall asleep." Tracy brushed a light kiss on his forehead.

  David didn't want to resent this lonely child's intrusion. It was just that a few moments ago, he'd expected to end the evening talking to Tracy. Getting to know her better. David held Tracy's gaze, wishing he could convey all the things he had hoped to tell her.

  Instead he gently reached over and touched her cheek quickly, before Kent noticed. "I'll put a movie on," he said as he pushed himself off the floor.

  Tracy gave him a tremulous smile, and he was gratified to see regret on her face.

  Explanations would have to wait. We have time, he reminded himself as he shuffled through the DVDs by Tracy's television. Lots of time.

  Chapter 13

  “I found her," Danielle said. "I found Kent's mom."

  Tracy's heart jumped as she turned, tucked the phone under her ear, clicking save on the invoice she was working on, and then turned away from her computer. It was Tuesday morning, and the clinic was quiet. She would have time to talk. "Where is she?"

  "At the Royal Alex hospital in Edmonton. Someone found her in a motel room over the weekend. She was beat up pretty bad. She's still out of it."

  "How did you find her?"

  "I'd sent out a notice to all the emergency wards in all of the hospitals close by and finally got something late Monday afternoon. She's in rough shape. She'll be there awhile. So this morning, I put in an application for Kent to become a temporary ward."

  "If he goes into care, I want to be considered," Tracy said.

  Danielle's silence wasn't reassuring.

  "I can do this, Dani," Tracy insisted. "I love this kid. I don't want him to go through the trauma of moving. He's settled into my house. We have a relationship."

  "Tracy, you live in a one-bedroom apartment. Where would you put him?"

  Tracy clutched the phone tighter. "As soon as my place gets subdivided, I can buy it, take ownership, and then move a manufactured home onto the place. Then I'd have lots of room." She'd had the financing in place. All it would take was a phone call once the place was subdivided and things could be set in motion. It would take a couple of weeks to deal with Edgar Stinson, but she had the signed agreement for sale. The rest was up to the lawyers.

  "You'll have to have a home study done, and we can't base it on future plans, Tracy. We have to work with what you have now."

  "But if there's such a need . . ."

  "There is. And of course, because of your relationship with Kent, you would be our first consideration, Tracy." Danielle sighed lightly. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's quite a commitment."

  Pictures of Kent sitting in her living room, playing with his bricks, sitting at the table eating his food with relish, seeing him off to school in the morning all trickled through her mind like a slow-motion montage.

  "Yes. I'm sure. I love that little guy. And I know how to make him happy."

  "That I don't doubt. I'm arranging for Kent to visit his mother in the hospital tomorrow. Would you be able to take him?"

  "I don't have a car," she said reluctantly. No vehicle wo
uld be one more mark against her taking care of Kent.

  "I can arrange for a driver. He'd be going after school anyway."

  "Does he have to go and see her like that, Dani?"

  "You told me yourself that he misses her."

  "I know. I know. I just . . ." Tracy let the sentence fade away. Dani knew well enough what she thought of Kent's mother. "So what do you think about me taking care of him?"

  "This is a huge responsibility, Tracy. You might want to talk to David about it."

  "David cares about him too."

  "Okay. Your call. I gotta go. I'll keep in touch about the driver."

  "And the home study."

  "Absolutely. You take care, girlfriend."

  "Always." Tracy hung up the phone, rested her face in her hands, her elbows on the desk, relief mixing with apprehension.

  She felt a brief flash of jealousy at the thought of Kent seeing his mother. She had grown so close to the little boy, she didn't want to share him. And against her better judgment, she had started making plans, seeing future events with the two of them. And David.

  "More work for me?"

  The light touch of David's hand on her shoulder spun her around, her heart thumping against her ribs.

  "David, you scared me."

  He hunched down, putting his face on a level with hers, a gentle smile flitting over his mouth. "Sorry. I tried not to."

  He touched her hand lightly, the connection sending a faint shiver up her arm.

  She returned his smile. Pressed his hand between hers. "You're a good man, David Braun."

  He raised his eyebrows. "Because I didn't try to scare you?"

  Tracy, taking another chance, reached out and gently smoothed his hair back from his face. "Yeah. That and a few other things."

  His expression was a mixture of puzzlement and pleasure. Tracy chose to focus on the pleasure.

  "You never cease to surprise me, Tracy Harris."

  I never cease to surprise myself, she thought.

  And maybe someday, if things kept going the way they were, she would dare tell him the entire truth about her life.

  But not yet.