blinked back the threat of tears. Her late husband would be so disappointed to see how badly she was handling their son.
“Something wrong?” a familiar voice questioned.
She halted, trying to act and sound near normal. “Zeke!” she greeted him, relieved that she remembered his name. “At least I didn’t run smack into you this time.”
He held up his empty hands. “The 4-H club now has custody of the chicks. All eighty of them.”
“Again, I’m sorry about that.”
“Unless I’m mistaken, you didn’t aim for me.”
She smiled.
“That’s better.” His grin widened.
As she focused on him, Olivia noticed the white Suburban he stood in front of. Harrison Veterinary Clinic was painted across the top half of the cab. Dr. Harrison. Baby chicks. The dots began to connect. “Are you a veterinarian?”
“Guilty. That’s why I was bringing the—”
“Chicks,” she finished for him. “You work a lot with the 4-H club?”
“Some. I’m the only vet for miles, so I do a little of everything.”
Being an army brat, Olivia had never owned a pet. Her father had insisted it wasn’t practical, since he never knew when they would be transferred. “Probably not so much chick chasing, though.”
He started to grin, then forced his lips into a neutral line but failed to disguise the twinkle in his eyes.
It took a moment but the double entendre hit her like a dozen bricks. Chasing chicks, as in women? She winced. “This obviously isn’t my day.”
“Actually, it was pretty funny.”
She wondered if he meant the ill-worded remark or the scattered baby chickens.
Raising her gaze, Olivia saw that he was focused on her. Swallowing, she fought the flood of attraction and the stunning realization that such feelings still existed within her. Olivia thought they were gone forever when Ted died. Disloyalty and guilt warred with the wash of new emotion.
“Mom!” Annoyance magnified the single word.
And she was appalled to realize she had completely forgotten about her son. She spun toward Joey.
He stared at her with his now-standard impatient-twelve-year-old posturing.
“Nice to have met you, Doctor.” Olivia put her hand on Joey’s shoulder to center herself as she began walking away.
“Zeke,” he corrected.
Even though she was several feet away, she heard his name as distinctly as if he had whispered it in her ear.
Chapter Two
Zeke studied the day’s appointments. One jumped out at him. Fluffy, owner Belinda Bates. Only Belinda would name an overly manicured poodle Fluffy. But he had to hand it to her: she was consistent. In high school she had fluffed her hair, her personality, her values.
But he’d loved her. From the moment she had asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance in their sophomore year of high school. It seemed that wherever Belinda walked, a glow followed. Popular, pretty—he was amazed that she wanted to date him. He was the resident bad boy, still hurting from years of being bounced around the foster system. And it took time to transition from that rebellious, angry boy into a man. When Belinda started to date him, he was still in the angry stage.
His foster parents made him attend school, didn’t accept any excuses and followed up to make sure he was toeing the line. But not like the other homes he had lived in. The Harrisons treated him as their own. They showed him love he couldn’t break and an understanding that finally got through to him.
Belinda, on the other hand, hadn’t been burdened with the same feeling of obligation.
Pulling open his desk drawer, Zeke stared at the tiny engagement ring he had bought for her so many years ago when he had finished his undergraduate studies at Texas A&M. After they’d gone together almost four years, Zeke had been certain she would accept his proposal.
But Belinda, who had chosen to attend the University of Texas, had had other ideas. He was too much of a wild card, she had said. Zeke exhaled, knowing he would never forget those words. Couldn’t be certain of his real background, Belinda had explained. And she couldn’t have children with someone who couldn’t be vetted. No telling how the children would turn out.
He had been stunned, Zeke remembered. Completely flattened. Why, he’d asked, had she dated him all this time? Her eyes hadn’t even changed with her admission. He had never noticed that before—her ability to hide her real feelings. Because he was different, Belinda had replied with a small shrug. She’d liked his edge, the way he flouted rules when he wanted to, defied authority. But really, did he think she would marry him? And had he really believed she hadn’t dated other guys the past four years? It shouldn’t have mattered. He should have forgotten all about her. But despite the changes he made, the encouragement from his by-then adoptive parents, the words stayed with him. Like a measuring stick.
His birth parents had been teenagers, his father jailed for a string of petty burglaries and vandalism. And Belinda, for all her cold disdain, had a point. Zeke had no idea what his genes would produce. Sure, he had straightened out, but that was his adoptive parents’ doing. They’d loved him when he was unlovable and had never given up.
“You’ve seen the appointments, then,” Angie said from the doorway.
He didn’t need to ask to know she was referring to Belinda.
“She has to be the most insensitive person on the planet,” Angie fumed, knowing Zeke’s history. “And why you let her bring her neurotic puffball here—”
“It’s not the dog’s fault,” Zeke replied mildly, even though Belinda’s gall was insulting.
“You could tell her to take him to a vet in another town.”
Yes, he could. But every time he saw Belinda, it reminded him of how blind he had been. How he never intended to be ambushed like that again.
* * *
Olivia navigated her car out of town, the school secretary’s note in one hand. Joey stared out the window as though she were chauffeuring him to prison. “You know, this community service will go a lot smoother if you approach it with a good attitude.”
“Does Grandpa know I’m missing the whole baseball season?”
“He will soon enough.” Olivia struggled to find a tone between scolding and understanding. It was difficult enough handling Ted’s death as an adult. Joey was just a boy.
“Grandpa won’t like it.”
“Unless you’ve forgotten, you could have missed basketball and football next season, too, if you’d been expelled.” She didn’t tell him that the administration had allowed him to stay on the team during his bad behavior only because they were
