A Silence in the Heart (Holmes Crossing Book 4) Page 15

  The buzzer sounded, and David glanced up from the bills he was sorting. Tracy had gone on a call with Dr. Harvey, and Crystal was working in the back.

  A tall, slender woman walked gracefully toward the desk, her glossed lips curved in a half smile as she caught David's eye. She wore a navy tailored suit jacket and matching pants, completely at odds with her feather earrings and the tiny diamond glinting from her nose. Coffee-brown hair flowed over her shoulders, and in the overhead lights, David caught the glint of gray threading through the waves.

  "Good afternoon. I'm looking for Tracy Harris." Her voice was deep, rough-edged. The voice of a chain-smoker, David thought.

  "She's out on a call with our other vet." David got up. "Can I help you?"

  "Are you Tracy's co-worker?"

  "I'm David Braun, part owner of the clinic."

  "Her boss, then." The woman's smile grew as she looked around. "I'm not surprised Tracy ended up working here. She always did love animals." She looked back at David and laughed lightly, holding out a well-manicured hand. "I'm sorry. I should introduce myself. I'm Velma Harris. Tracy's mother."

  David just stared at the woman Tracy never wanted to talk about. In all his imaginings, this elegantly off-beat woman was not what he'd expected. He took her hand, shook it.

  "You look a little surprised," Velma said, scooping her hair back from her face. "I take it Tracy didn't tell you much about me."

  Precious little. "Tracy is a private person."

  "That was diplomatic." Velma rested her hands on the counter, her fingers drumming out a light rhythm. "Tracy was always an independent person, and I've been more of smotherer rather than a motherer." Velma clasped her hands together as if demonstrating. "It's always hard to let go."

  "And she was sorry she missed you on Sunday." He made his voice casual, just a comment made in passing. But he figured she had to know.

  Velma looked at him, her dark eyes, so much like Tracy's, holding a hint of puzzlement that slowly faded as she studied him. "You were the one in the truck, weren't you?"

  "I drove her, yes." He frowned. "I thought you weren't home?"

  Velma acknowledged his comment with a nod. "I'm sure Tracy told you that. But I saw you drive up and drop her off. You and that little boy beside you. Tracy came to the door, took one look at me, and left without saying one word." She looked down as she surreptitiously brushed her fingers over her eyes. "I was home all right."

  David stared at her a moment, trying to fit her information in with what Tracy had told him.

  David tried to ignore his own discomfort as he found a box of tissues and handed Velma one, puzzlement fighting with confusion and a measure of anger. He'd thought things were moving along between him and Tracy. In spite of the Heather fiasco, he'd thought he had earned her trust.

  And now this?

  "I'm sorry," Velma whispered, folding over the used tissue and dabbing once more at her eyes. "I've missed my little girl so much. I was looking forward to our visit all week." Velma looked up at David. "Did she give you a reason . . . ?" She stopped and held her hand up in a negating gesture. "No. I'm sorry. Pretend I didn't ask that. It's none of my business."

  She turned to leave.

  "Wait. Don't go yet." David came around the counter, curiosity and concern propelling him. "Tracy didn't say anything to me about seeing you." He bit his lip, wondering if he should tell her. But if he wanted to find out anything more about the puzzle that was Tracy, the woman standing in front of him was one large clue. "In fact, to be honest, Tracy said you weren't home."

  Velma closed her eyes, as if her daughter's denial was too much to bear. And David felt a stirring of sympathy for her.

  "I know why Tracy said that." Velma's shoulders slumped as if in defeat. "I . . . the truth is . . ." Velma took a deep breath and then looked up at David, her eyes meeting his square on. "I haven't always been the mother I should for Tracy. I have . . . problems. But I have learned to depend on God." Velma gave a bitter laugh and then looked down at her intertwined hands. "I've made some horrible mistakes in the past. But I want to make things right."

  She stopped then, her voice wavering.

  David felt a surge of sympathy for this obviously broken woman. "Tracy was looking forward to seeing you on Sunday. I wish I could help you."

  "You are very kind to me," she said. "As I said, I don't deserve her trust. Or her love."

  "None of us deserve anything," David said. "But God gives us more than a second chance. I can try to talk to her. To convince her to give you another chance."

  Velma gave David a shaky smile. "Thank you. I can't ask for more than that."

  "If you had phoned, she might have been here," David offered.

  "She must not answer her phone at night." Velma ran her fingers through her hair, rearranging the curls. "Thank you so much for your time, Dr. Braun. Please give Tracy my love. Tell her . . ." Velma hesitated, her hand toying with the lapel of her jacket, her smile tremulous. "Tell her I love her. Tell her I forgive her. Tell her that I remember her in my prayers."

  Velma looked so sad. She so obviously wanted a relationship with her daughter. He wanted to make things right between them. For Tracy as well as Velma.

  "I'll tell her, Velma. And again, I'm sorry Tracy wasn't here."

  Velma gave him another careful smile, and then left. David walked to the window and watched as she got into a small sporty car, pulled down the visor, and checked her makeup. She wiped her eyes once more, and then drove away.

  Questions piled on top of questions. Why had Tracy lied to him about her visit to her mother? What was she trying to hide?

  And what was he supposed to do with this information? In spite of his brave words to Velma, he didn't know if his relationship with Tracy was far enough along, strong enough for him to start giving her family advice.

  Show me what to do, Lord. I care for her and want only what's best for her. And for her mother.

  For now, all he could do was pray. And try to keep talking to Tracy. Keep being there for her, helping her to renew her relationship with her mother—hoping that one day she would trust him enough.

  "Administer one calcium bolus in about an hour. If she's not up by then, call me." David handed the package to Mrs. Swanson, who nodded and slipped it into the pocket of her blue jeans.

  Tracy cleaned up the IV material, her eyes on the milk cow still lying on a bed of clean straw in a small barn, its breathing deep and heavy. Milk fever was easily treated, but tricky if not handled right. As always, she was impressed with David's knowledge and his easy manner with the clients—four- and two-legged.

  "That's a nice-looking animal," David was saying, drawing out a full-fledged smile from the usually taciturn Eva Swanson. As long as Tracy had known her, the elderly woman was reserved, perpetually frowning yet friendly when one talked to her.

  "She's quiet. Nice milker." Eva flexed her fingers as if demonstrating, and Tracy had to smile. Not many farmers milked their cows by hand anymore.

  "If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call," David said, taking the kit from Tracy.

  They walked past a lean-to, scaring up a flock of chickens who were sitting against the barn, sunning themselves. They squawked and ran back hither and yon, making Tracy laugh.

  "You get eggs from these?" she asked Mrs. Swanson.

  "Enough for eating and baking. I like having my own eggs, though it's getting to be a bit more work than I like."

  Her comment surprised Tracy. The widow had to be in her late seventies, but she still lived out on her little farm, proud of her self-sufficiency.

  "You ever think of moving to town?" David asked as he dropped the kit into the back seat of his truck.

  "I have. Ever since Horace died, it hasn't been as much fun. But, it's still home."

  "And it's a nice home," Tracy said, smiling as she looked around. The older house was tucked into a grove of trees, and the entire acreage was fenced off. Just like she wanted to. Then her eyes moved past
the lean-to, and she saw a dusty red car parked inside. A faded For Sale sign was tucked in the windshield.

  "Is that your car?" she asked.

  "Yeah. I've been tryin' to sell it, but no one 'round here wants it. Was gonna bring it to town, but never have time." Eva pushed her wobbly glasses up her nose with a thick forefinger. "It runs okay. I never had no worries with it." She hitched the waistband of her blue jeans above her ample waist and sniffed again. "Never did like that car."

  "Is that the reason you're selling it?" Tracy asked.

  Eva shrugged. Sniffed. "It's too small. Feel like my behind is draggin' on the road when I take it out. I prefer a truck. You interested?"

  "I might be."

  "I'll pop the hood. Dr. Braun can have a look," Eva said, getting into the car and pulling on a latch.

  David was right in there, poking around with the engine, tugging and shifting and doing engine-ly things that Tracy had no clue about.

  "I got all my work done at Wierenga's in town. Where the Hemstead boys work." Eva scratched her hand, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, as if impatient for them to be gone. From the looks of the immaculate yard, she probably spent every waking hour clipping, weeding, and cleaning. "You want it?"

  David let the hood fall shut and glanced back at Tracy. "Looks really good.”

  She nodded. She needed a vehicle and didn't want to go to the auto lot in town. If the car was maintained as well as the yard was, it was probably very reliable.

  "What do you want for it?" Tracy asked.

  Eva waggled her hand, glancing from Tracy to David as if trying to figure out who was in charge. "Six thousand? It's got lots of clicks on it, but all highway. Runs great. You can ask the Hemstead boys; they'll tell you."

  The price seemed a bit high, and the thought of taking even that much money out of her savings account created a knot of nerves in her stomach. That would mean that much less for her property.

  Kent was visiting his mother today, and it still bothered Tracy that she hadn't been able to take him. If she wanted to take care of Kent, she needed a vehicle. But she also knew she wouldn't get a car in this good a shape at any of the dealers in town.

  What to do? She glanced at David, who gave her an imperceptible shake of his head.

  "The kilometers are a bit high for that price," David suggested, wiping his hands on a hanky.

  "Five?" Eva said, turning back to Tracy. But she was more than willing to let David do the haggling.

  "It also looks like it's been in an accident," David continued.

  "Hit a deer two weeks ago. 'Fore I bought the truck." Eva rubbed the side of her nose with her forefinger.

  David only glanced back at the car, as if waiting for its side of the story.

  "It still runs good," Eva added, her tone defensive.

  David looked back at her, one eyebrow slightly raised.

  "Okay. Okay. Four five and it's yours."

  "Contingent on it passing a mechanical inspection."

  Eva threw up her hands in surrender. "Fine. I'll get it into Wierenga's tomorrow. That's Wednesday, right?"

  Tracy nodded.

  "But we'll sign the bill of sale now," she said to Tracy. "You can drop the check off at Wierenga's if you think it's okay."

  "Sounds good to me," Tracy said, surprised at how much David had managed to haggle her down.

  Ten minutes later, they were back in the truck and headed down the valley back to Holmes Crossing. "I would have settled for six, you know," Tracy said, smiling at David. "I'm so glad you managed to get her down. That's a substantial savings."

  "Don't get too excited. You probably didn't notice the corroded battery posts or the dent that had been pulled out in the passenger door."

  "Nope. I'm strictly an I-come-I-see-I-buy shopper."

  "The dent probably doesn't affect the condition of the car, but it definitely affects the resale value."

  "Resale value is moot for me. I drive vehicles until the Hemstead boys tell me they can't work any more miracles." She folded up the paper and slipped it into her pocket. "I only hope she agrees to stand by the deal."

  David gave her a reassuring glance. "Eva comes across as gruff, but I think she's a woman of her word. She'll have that car at Wierenga's tomorrow."

  "I know I can trust her. But my faith in humankind has taken a bit of a beating the past few days."

  That was more than she wanted to divulge.

  "Sometimes you just have to try again and give different people a chance to prove your opinion of the other ones wrong," he said.

  Tracy wondered if he was referring to her mother. She'd thought she had moved to a place in her life where she didn't need her mother as much.

  Guess she was wrong.

  "Kent will be happy," she said. "He's getting tired of walking to school."

  "How was Kent's visit with his mother?" David asked.

  "I guess she looked pretty rough from what he and the driver told me. I just wished they could have waited a bit, until she looked a little better."

  "She probably missed him."

  Tracy bit back her next comment. David knew too well her feelings toward Kent's mother. What he didn't know was that they were exactly the same feelings she had toward her own mother. And she didn't miss her mother.

  "I know you don't agree with me on that," David continued, as if able to read her thoughts, "but I do want to put in a plug for Kent's mom. She didn't ask to be put in the hospital."

  "I know, and I feel bad for her. But right now, my priority is Kent." She didn't like hearing David defend Kent's mother. It was too short a step to defending her own.

  Time to change the subject. She looked away from him, out the window at the fields sliding past them. Just beyond the fields edging the road, she caught the glimmer of the river as it spooled through the valley. As always, the view settled her. This land was here long before her and would be here long after. A reminder that the problems of her life were fleeting and would pass. A reminder that God, who had created this world, was in charge and in control.

  She glanced sideways at David, surprised to see him looking at her, his hazel eyes like a gentle caress. It was a small miracle the way her smile drew an answering one from him. A response. It seemed she was forgiven.

  "By the way, thanks for helping me with the car." Tracy moved a little closer to David. She staked out her fragile territory by draping her arm across the back of the truck's seat. "I'm not very good at dealing."

  "Who helped you with your last car?"

  "Danielle's brother."

  "She has three brothers, doesn't she?"

  "Two older, one younger, and the best definition of the word Guy with a capital G."

  "Guy?"

  "Danielle always says her brothers aren't men, they're guys."

  "What's the difference?"

  "Men like challenges that stretch their intellect. Guys like meaningless challenges that usually involve pain. Men like to fix things. Guys like taking things apart to see how they work. And then leaving the parts around." She laid her hand on his shoulder. Then, just because she could, she rested her fingers against his warm neck, making a physical connection with him. As she did, she took a chance on a tiny bit of disclosure. "Art was a guy. You're not."

  His laugh made her feel like she was actually funny, instead of slightly cynical. Then he turned his attention back to the road. He grew silent, his forehead puckered in concentration as they wove their way through the valley back to town. The silence didn't bother her. Tracy was content just to look at him. To know that she could.

  He had strong features. Large deep eyes, well-defined nose, firm lips. The kind of face that would grow more appealing with age and time spent together. She allowed herself a bit of dreaming. A moment of wondering where this relationship was going.

  If there was a future. An "us."

  His frown deepened as his gaze snagged hers. "What?"

  Tracy took another chance and let her index finger trick
le down his neck, her knuckle grazing the rough hairs on his neck. "Nothing. I guess I just like looking at you."

  "Considering what you have to look at, I'm thankful for small blessings." He caught her other hand in his and held it tightly.

  "You're a blessing, David." He was dependable. Loving. And before she could analyze or think, she spoke. "And I think . . ."

  She stopped. Was it too soon? She felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a place she'd been before. Did she dare fall again?

  Say it. Don't wait. David was worth taking a chance on.

  "And I think . . ."

  He glanced at her, expectation in his eyes.

  "I really care for you."

  Chapter 14

  Lame. Lame, Tracy. You choked. Why couldn't you tell him?

  Because she was afraid. Because she felt vulnerable.

  But then, to her surprise, David's hand tightened on hers, and without warning, he pulled the truck to the side of the road, hit the brakes, and pulled her into his arms.

  Then his lips were on hers, calling out a response, drawing forth a flurry of emotions, of hope.

  It had happened so fast, she didn't have time to shore up her defenses.

  And as she slipped her arms around him, she knew she didn't want to.

  In one smooth motion, David slipped the truck into Park and turned back to her. His sigh brushed her cheek as his lips grazed hers. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, his eyes holding hers with an intensity she had never seen before. "I wanted to tell you before, but I didn't dare. I care for you too. In fact, Tracy, I love you."

  She clung to him and pressed her face into his sweater. Why did she suddenly feel her throat thicken? Why did she feel like laughing and crying at the same time? She had pulled back, and instead of allowing her to withdraw, he had given her all of this.

  David stroked her hair, murmured something unintelligible, his voice soothing as her emotions stabilized.

  She lifted her face to his. His mouth was close to hers, so she kissed him, wonder and love spiraling through her. "You love me?"

  She had to repeat his words, as if by doing so, she made them more real.