could kill, he would be dead, but then he should be accustomed to that from an angry mother.
“Is there a father?”
“No. I don’t think there ever was one in the picture. His mother clammed up and hasn’t said anything about the new or old injuries.” Jacob picked up the child’s chart. “I want you to know what you’re dealing with since you haven’t been on the job long. The only time Andy cried was when he found out he wasn’t going with his mother when he left the hospital. He kept screaming he needed to go home. When he settled down, he whimpered that his mother needed him, but I could never get him to tell me why he thought that.” He jotted his preliminary findings down on the chart. “Have you been a social worker for long?”
A gleam glittered in her eyes. “No, I got my degree recently.”
A newbie. No wonder she’d wanted to know if Andy’s mother had sought help. He would hate to see that light in her eyes dim when the reality of the system sank in. But having dealt with the Department of Human Services and the lack of funding that so often tied its hands when it came to neglected or abused children, he knew the reality of the situation, first as a boy who had gone through the system and now as a pediatrician.
“I’ve been impressed by the setup at Stone’s Refuge, especially since it hasn’t been around for long. We could use more places like that.” Hannah hiked the straps of her brown leather purse up onto her shoulder. “I’m glad they’ve started building another house at the ranch. Mr. Stone has quite a vision.”
Jacob laughed. “That’s Peter. When he came up with using the students from the Cimarron Technology Center to help with the construction of the house, it was a blessing. They’re learning a trade, and we’re getting another place for kids to stay at a cheaper rate.”
“I heard some of his ideas, as well as his wife’s when I interviewed with them. It’s quite an ambitious project.” She started forward. “I’d better check and see—”
The door opened, and Andy came into the room with Teresa and a red car clutched in his hand. “It was there, Dr. Jacob. No one took it.”
The child’s words, no one took it, stirred a memory from Jacob’s past. He’d been in his fourth foster home, all of his possessions easily contained in a small backpack. Slowly his treasures had disappeared. The first item had been stolen at the shelter after he’d been removed from his mother’s care. By the age of twelve he hadn’t expected any of his belongings to stay long, so when he had received a radio for Christmas from a church toy drive, he hadn’t thought he would keep it more than a day or so. But when he had moved to his fifth foster home seven months later, he still had the radio in his backpack. No one had taken it. His body had begun to fill out by then, and he’d learned to defend himself with the older children.
“Here’s the X-ray, Dr. Hartman.”
Teresa handed it to him, drawing him back to the present.
After studying the X-ray, Jacob pointed to an area on Andy’s forearm. “That’s where it’s fractured. Teresa will set you up with Dr. Filmore, an orthopedic surgeon here in the clinic, to take care of your arm.”
Andy’s eyes grew round. “What will he do?”
“He’ll probably put a cast on your arm.”
“Can people sign it?” Andy stared at the place where Jacob had pointed on the X-ray.
“Yep, but you won’t be able to get it wet. You’ll have it on for a few months.”
Andy grinned. “You mean, I don’t have to take a bath for months?”
Jacob chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I’m afraid a few people might have something to say about that.”
“But—”
“We’ll rig something up to keep your arm with the cast dry while you take a bath.” Hannah moved next to Andy, her nurturing side leaking through her professional facade. “And I’m thinking when we get home, we’ll have a cast signing and invite everyone. I’ve got some neat markers we can use. We can use different colors or just one.”
“My favorite color is green.”
“Then green it is.” Hannah glanced toward Jacob. “Where do we go to see Dr. Filmore?”
Jacob nodded toward Teresa who slipped out of the room. “He’s on the third floor. He owes me a favor. If he isn’t in surgery, he should be able to see Andy quickly. Teresa will arrange it.”
Hannah smiled, her glance straying to Andy. “Great.”
It lit her whole face, transforming her plain features into a pretty countenance. It reached deep into her eyes, inviting others to join her in grinning. Jacob responded with his own smile, but when her attention came back to him, her grin died. An invisible but palpable barrier fell into place. Was she still worried about the accident on her second day on the job? Or something else?
As Teresa showed Hannah and Andy out of the room, Jacob watched them leave. He couldn’t shake the feeling he’d done something wrong in Hannah’s eyes, that her emotional reaction went beyond Andy’s accident. Jacob was out at the refuge all the time, since he was the resident doctor for the foster homes and on the board of the foundation that ran Stone’s Refuge. But the ice beneath her professional facade didn’t bode well for their working relationship. As he headed into the hall, he decided he needed to pay Peter a visit and find out what he could about Hannah Smith.
The sun began its descent toward the line of trees along the side of the road leading to Stone’s Refuge. Tension gripped Hannah’s neck and shoulders from the hours sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting for Andy’s arm to be taken care of. No, that wasn’t the whole reason. The second she’d seen Dr. Jacob Hartman she’d remembered the time her family had been torn apart because of him. After the death of her older brother, Kevin, everything had changed in her life, and Jacob Hartman had been at the center of the tragedy.
But looking at him, no one could tell what he had done. His bearing gave the impression of a proficient, caring doctor. Concern had lined his face while interacting with Andy. Even now she could picture that look in his chocolate-brown eyes that had warmed when he’d smiled. The two dimples in his cheeks had mocked her when he had turned that grin on her. And for just a second his expression had taunted her to let go of her anger. But she couldn’t.
The small boy next to her in the van had been a trouper the whole time, but now he squirmed, his bottled-up energy barely contained. “Mrs. Smith, ya ain’t mad at me, are ya?” Andy stared down at his cast, thumping his finger against it over and over.
The rhythmic sound grated on Hannah’s raw nerves, but she suppressed her irritation. Andy wasn’t the source of her conflicting emotions. “Mad? No. Disappointed, yes. I want you to feel you can come talk to me if something is bothering you rather than playing hooky from school.”
Andy dropped his head and mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Please call me Hannah. You and I are the new kids on the block. Actually, you could probably show me the ropes. How long have you been at the house? Two, three weeks?”
He lifted his head and nodded.
“See? This is only my second day. You’ve got tons more experience at how things
