Read Online The One Safe Place by Kathleen O`Brien - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kathleen O`Brien
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canât.â
âItâs all right. You donât have any obligââ
âI donât even know what he needs. Iâm a vet, nota psychiatrist. I simply donât have the first clue what to do.â
She paused, turned and smiled just a little, the tired shadows shifting across her face in a way that was both hauntingly sad and beautiful.
âThatâs okay,â she said. âThe psychiatrists donât know what to do, either.â
He stood there a long time after she left.
Damn, damn, damn.
Maybe it was because she had cried in his arms. Maybe it was because of the way the kid held on to that dog, like a life raft. Whatever the reason, for the first time in a long time, Reed wanted something.
He wanted to hear Spencer talk. He wanted to see Faith smile, really smile, all the way to her eyes, all the way to her heart. He wanted them to be free to go home again, to live a normal life without fear.
And he most definitely wanted that bastard Doug Lambert to pay for what heâd done to this little family.
He threw the papers into the trash and closed the lid quietly.
Damn it.
If he hadnât been ready for Pauline, he sure as hell wasnât ready for this.
CHAPTER FIVE
âT IME OUT !â Faith collapsed, breathless, and let the football roll to her side on the grass. âYou win. I give up. Time out!â
Spencer barreled over and threw himself across her legs, tackling her just for the fun of it, even though she was already down. Tigger scampered into the heap of body parts and tugged excitedly at the cuff of her jeans.
She wriggled her legs, huffing and pretending to be trapped, but Spencer held on tightly. When she subsided, he lifted his head and grinned at her.
For a moment she held her breath. Suddenly, as if her sister had appeared before her, she was looking at Graceâs smile. An irresistible smile, everyone said so. Slightly higher at the left corner, dimpling deep in the cheek.
Grace. An agony of love washed through her like rain.
Oh, Graceâ¦heâs going to be so handsome.
It had been weeks since Spencer had really smiledâFaith hadnât realized that new front tooth was already halfway in. Somehow she stopped herself from reaching over and wrapping him in her arms. Atthis moment, he was all boy, all mindless energy and wriggling mischief, and she wanted it to stay that way.
âMaybe youâd better take Tigger in and let him have some water,â she said. The puppy was lying across her legs, panting happily. He didnât need to know the rules of the game to enjoy it. He just needed Spencer. His bright black eyes were fixed on the little boy adoringly.
Spencer looked at his watch, and his mouth made a small o. Faith glanced at hers, too. âHey, itâs time for Macâs Treehouse, isnât it?â That was Spencerâs favorite TV show, the only one that would drag him indoors these days. âBetter hurry.â
Spencer climbed to his feet, but he hesitated, looking down at her. His hair was a mess. Blades of grass tattooed one cheek, a smudge of mud the other. He was the cutest thing sheâd ever seen, and she had to fight another urge to smother him in kisses.
âItâs okay,â she said. She got up and brushed leaves from her knees and backside. âYou and Tigger go on in. I want to pick something pretty for the table, and Iâll be there soon.â
He went. He made sure Tigger was at his heels, and he paused at the door before opening it, but he didnât look back even once. Faith put that on her list of small victories. Someday, when the list was long enough, Spencer would be well again.
Had she, through sheer dumb luck, stumbled onto the right therapy? For the past three days, she andSpencer and Tigger had spent several hours outdoors. Each day Spencer had seemed a little more relaxed.
At the beginning, she hadnât thought of it as therapy at all. Sheâd thought of
âItâs all right. You donât have any obligââ
âI donât even know what he needs. Iâm a vet, nota psychiatrist. I simply donât have the first clue what to do.â
She paused, turned and smiled just a little, the tired shadows shifting across her face in a way that was both hauntingly sad and beautiful.
âThatâs okay,â she said. âThe psychiatrists donât know what to do, either.â
He stood there a long time after she left.
Damn, damn, damn.
Maybe it was because she had cried in his arms. Maybe it was because of the way the kid held on to that dog, like a life raft. Whatever the reason, for the first time in a long time, Reed wanted something.
He wanted to hear Spencer talk. He wanted to see Faith smile, really smile, all the way to her eyes, all the way to her heart. He wanted them to be free to go home again, to live a normal life without fear.
And he most definitely wanted that bastard Doug Lambert to pay for what heâd done to this little family.
He threw the papers into the trash and closed the lid quietly.
Damn it.
If he hadnât been ready for Pauline, he sure as hell wasnât ready for this.
CHAPTER FIVE
âT IME OUT !â Faith collapsed, breathless, and let the football roll to her side on the grass. âYou win. I give up. Time out!â
Spencer barreled over and threw himself across her legs, tackling her just for the fun of it, even though she was already down. Tigger scampered into the heap of body parts and tugged excitedly at the cuff of her jeans.
She wriggled her legs, huffing and pretending to be trapped, but Spencer held on tightly. When she subsided, he lifted his head and grinned at her.
For a moment she held her breath. Suddenly, as if her sister had appeared before her, she was looking at Graceâs smile. An irresistible smile, everyone said so. Slightly higher at the left corner, dimpling deep in the cheek.
Grace. An agony of love washed through her like rain.
Oh, Graceâ¦heâs going to be so handsome.
It had been weeks since Spencer had really smiledâFaith hadnât realized that new front tooth was already halfway in. Somehow she stopped herself from reaching over and wrapping him in her arms. Atthis moment, he was all boy, all mindless energy and wriggling mischief, and she wanted it to stay that way.
âMaybe youâd better take Tigger in and let him have some water,â she said. The puppy was lying across her legs, panting happily. He didnât need to know the rules of the game to enjoy it. He just needed Spencer. His bright black eyes were fixed on the little boy adoringly.
Spencer looked at his watch, and his mouth made a small o. Faith glanced at hers, too. âHey, itâs time for Macâs Treehouse, isnât it?â That was Spencerâs favorite TV show, the only one that would drag him indoors these days. âBetter hurry.â
Spencer climbed to his feet, but he hesitated, looking down at her. His hair was a mess. Blades of grass tattooed one cheek, a smudge of mud the other. He was the cutest thing sheâd ever seen, and she had to fight another urge to smother him in kisses.
âItâs okay,â she said. She got up and brushed leaves from her knees and backside. âYou and Tigger go on in. I want to pick something pretty for the table, and Iâll be there soon.â
He went. He made sure Tigger was at his heels, and he paused at the door before opening it, but he didnât look back even once. Faith put that on her list of small victories. Someday, when the list was long enough, Spencer would be well again.
Had she, through sheer dumb luck, stumbled onto the right therapy? For the past three days, she andSpencer and Tigger had spent several hours outdoors. Each day Spencer had seemed a little more relaxed.
At the beginning, she hadnât thought of it as therapy at all. Sheâd thought of
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