Joey turned back to stare at the familiar landscape. When Ted was still alive, they would all have been chatting about which of the wildflowers continued to bloom.
Inhaling an acrid scent, Olivia scanned the hillsides for smoke. The severe drought had wildfires popping up in the area, and although Rosewood had been lucky, the possibility added to Olivia’s stress.
Joey exhaled loudly.
“You know, you still haven’t acknowledged the seriousness of what you did. Stealing.”
He shrugged. “Just some dumb headset.”
“I don’t care if it was a marble. It’s not how much the item’s worth. It’s about what you’re worth. Stealing isn’t honorable. And without honor, where is your worth?” She slid her gaze toward him.
Joey’s chin drooped a fraction, but he didn’t reply, instead turning again to stare out the window.
The early-morning traffic on the highway consisted mostly of eighteen-wheelers and pickup trucks. She had always been glad that the road wasn’t connected to a freeway. It gave Rosewood a feeling of protection unlike what she had known most of her life, moving from fort to fort.
Her father, the Colonel, had decided to retire in the Hill Country soon after Ted had graduated from the University of Texas. Joey was just four then. Ted had been offered a good job in Austin right after graduation, so they’d decided to stay. But seven years later, the company had closed its doors.
The Colonel had still had influential contacts from his army days. One of them had suggested a business that Ted could operate from home. Without the anchor of his job, Austin hadn’t had a hold on them any longer. Ted’s parents had passed away during his college years and he sorely felt their absence. So when the Colonel suggested they relocate to Rosewood, Ted had been elated, wanting to be close to family.
Olivia had had mixed feelings about the move. She’d lived in Austin longer than anywhere else in her life. But she couldn’t deny that it would be good to be closer to her parents. Even though they’d visited back and forth, it wasn’t the same as being close enough for impromptu get-togethers, family dinners and special grandparent time.
Ted had liked his new work, but it had required some traveling. They had been in Rosewood only a couple of months when he’d made that fateful trip to Atlanta. When the police caught the suspect, he’d turned out to be a young man, barely more than a boy, who had panicked during the mugging and shot Ted unintentionally. Intentional or unintentional, the result had been the same. Ted had died alone on a strange street in a strange city.
Olivia blinked away the threat of tears, trying to push the memories away, as well. Although they had only lived in Rosewood about a year and a half, she had grown attached to the quiet, caring community. If Ted had lived, by now he would have met every neighbor, introduced himself to every clerk in every business in town. He’d been outgoing and open, and people didn’t remain strangers to him for long.
But after his death, Olivia hadn’t been able to continue his natural outreach. She had always been more reserved, accustomed to keeping a low profile in the many towns her father had been stationed in. She had learned early on as an army brat that making friends only made it that much harder when they moved.
Most of her acquaintances and friends were ones Ted had made, always trying to enlarge her circle to give her something she had never had before.
Now, having retreated from everything except her son, her parents and a part-time job as a drugstore inventory clerk, she struggled to maintain a normal life for Joey. Olivia questioned if she had failed Joey by being so reclusive. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten into so much trouble if she had involved herself more in the community, made friends, reached out to everyone.
Olivia glanced again at the directions Dorothy had given her. The place was only about five miles outside of town, so the turnoff should be close. She spotted it and turned onto the two-lane farm road.
Cattle grazed behind split-rail fences, unperturbed by her car passing by them. She hadn’t seen another vehicle on the road since she had turned onto it. Maybe these cattle were a laid-back breed since they didn’t seem at all bothered by her car. Then again, the only breed she could actually identify was the Texas longhorn. The closest she had ever gotten to wildlife was an occasional mouse.
Slowing, she saw an old-fashioned metal sign, engraved with HVC, hanging from a post. Just as the directions had described. Turning, she passed beneath a tall wrought-iron arch.
Looked like a peaceful place for her son to rethink his actions. She looked upward, her automatic response to ask the Lord for help. But He had allowed Ted to needlessly die. Clenching the steering wheel harder, Olivia felt she could no longer turn to Him.
She wheeled their car to the front of the old ranch house. A wide wraparound porch encircled the structure. Tall double doors, which appeared to be perpetually propped open, welcomed them at the top of the broad wooden steps. Olivia led the way, Joey trailing her.
Once inside, she took in the large room off to the left that looked like a man’s comfortable den. To the right was a reception area. Arched wooden pocket doors as tall as the high ceilings were slid partway open to the den and fully open to the business side.
Not seeing anyone sitting at the scarred wood desk, Olivia entered the reception area. A scattering of mismatched chairs looked more homey than shabby. She could see that the buttons on the telephone were flashing, perhaps on hold, perhaps going unanswered.
“What kind of dump is this?” Joey asked, staring around at the plain but comfortable room.
Olivia closed her eyes, wishing Joey could just be her Joey again. “Hush. We’re not in a big city. You know they don’t build places in Rosewood to impress people.”
“Angie? I need the file on Mitchell’s gelding,” an oddly familiar voice called out from a connected room.
The man, absorbed in the chart in his hands, walked into sight.
It couldn’t be. Could it?
He looked up, his memorable features quickly forming a smile.
And Olivia couldn’t think of a single word to say. HVC. Of course. She should have realized the acronym. Harrison Veterinary Clinic.
“Hello,” he greeted them with a warmth that she felt from across the room.
“We...” Her voice warbled. Clearing her throat, Olivia started over. “My son has been assigned to do his community service here.”
He lowered the chart, his gaze appraising. “I’ve been expecting you. Dorothy called this morning. Joey, I’m Zeke Harrison. We didn’t actually meet yesterday. And I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before.”
In typical fashion, Joey shrugged.
Olivia hurried to fill in the blanks. “We’ve only lived in Rosewood for about a year and a half.”
“And your family doesn’t have pets?” he questioned, helping the limping conversation along.
Olivia stared into his azure-blue eyes, instantly remembering how she had practically fallen into his arms. She shook her head. “No, we don’t. My husband...” Abruptly she halted.
“Your husband?”
