Healing Hearts (8 page)

“Are you kidding?” The girl sat up straight. “Are we taking Gabe and Cottonball inside, too? I don’t want to leave them in the car.”

“Of course. Gabe comes here a lot and knows how to behave. You can keep a hold on Cottonball. Do you think you can do that?”

“She’s good. She’ll stay in my lap.”

“Then let’s go. My dad is expecting us.”

When Abbey brought the wheelchair around and moved Madison to it, the girl took Cottonball and held her against her. Abbey put Gabe on his leash, and they headed into the building. Inside, her father and several of the employees, including Emma, stood in the reception area waiting for Madison. A large sign hung across the doorway into the back read Welcome Madison.

Her dad, who wore a party hat and had a noisemaker, said, “We’re so glad that you could come and see us today.”

Her friend and vet hospital employee, Emma Langford, added, “We always like a chance to celebrate and show this place off.”

Abbey’s father blew into the noisemaker. Emma and the other two employees did the same, and in the background there was a chorus of dogs barking as though her dad had planned that.

Madison smiled from ear to ear, clapping and letting go of Cottonball.

The bichon jumped down and shot toward the doorway into the exam rooms and kennel area. Her dad tried to catch Cottonball, but she slipped through his legs. The barking increased to a din.

Madison slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes huge. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.”

The child pushed herself off the seat of the wheelchair and tried to stand as if she wanted to chase after the dog. When she couldn’t she plopped down, dropping her head.

Chapter Six

A
bbey darted after Cottonball. She’d seen the fear on the dog’s face when her dad had blown into the noisemaker. The sound had spooked her. In the hallway Abbey glanced both ways trying to decide which way the
little dog
had gone. The kennel was on the right, along with all the dogs barking. To the left were the exam rooms. She turned to the left, hoping Cottonball was seeking some quiet.

Her father came in as Abbey found
the
bichon under the chair in the second exam room. “I’ve learned today she’s scared of loud noises.” She picked up Cottonball and cradled the dog’s shaking body against her chest. “You’re okay, girl. Let’s take you back to Madison. She’s worried about you.”

“I’m sorry, Abbey. I wanted to make the child feel special. Instead she’s crying in the reception area. She thinks she did something wrong, and Cottonball is going to be hurt.”

When Abbey heard her father’s words, she hurried from the room and came to a halt near the doorway where Madison had wheeled herself.

Dominic’s sister raised tear-filled eyes to Abbey. “You found her. I thought I had lost her because I didn’t hold on to her tight enough. I promise I’ll be careful next time. I don’t want to lose another dog.”

Abbey placed Cottonball in Madison’s lap, then knelt in front of her. “You did fine. None of us knew Cottonball doesn’t like loud noises. They don’t bother Gabe or my other dogs.”

Her father stopped behind Abbey. “Now that we know, we’ll be more careful in the future with Cottonball. I’m Abbey’s dad, Dr. Harris. I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you from my daughter. Are you ready for a tour of the animal hospital? We had a pregnant dog left on our doorstep this morning, and she delivered a few hours ago. She has three puppies.”

“Why did someone leave her here and not come back for her?”

“Probably because they didn’t want to deal with a litter of puppies. Sadly it happens sometimes.” Her dad started walking toward the kennel area of the hospital.

As Abbey wheeled Madison behind her father while he showed the girl the play yard for the animals that were staying overnight, the large cages each pet had and the operating room, she remembered the desperation in Madison’s voice when she’d said she couldn’t lose another dog. She thought back to the death of her first pet. It had devastated her, and she’d never wanted to care for another animal. Her dad had taught her the best way to get over her grief was to give her love to another animal rather than hold it close to her heart. After that she started caring for another pet, then another. That might work with animals, but she didn’t think it would work with people.

And yet, she ached to be a mother again. Was that why she was drawn to Madison in spite of the feelings and memories she evoked? Abbey wasn’t quite sure.

* * *

Later that night a bark penetrated Abbey’s sleep, followed by something cold against her hand, nudging it. She opened her eyes to find Gabe staring at her, a soft light from the hallway streaming through the doorway into the bedroom she was using next to Madison’s.

Gabe yelped again.

“What’s wrong?” Abbey sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Is it Madison?”

He barked once.

Abbey quickly rose and started for the hall. Gabe ran ahead of her. Something must have happened to Madison, or she was having one of the nightmares Dominic told her about. Abbey’s heart pounded as she increased her pace.

When Abbey entered the child’s room, Madison fought with her covers, moaning and sobbing. Cottonball stood watching the girl, trying to lick her cheek and console her.

Abbey rushed to the bed and scooped the child against her while switching on the lamp on the bedside table. She clutched Abbey, her sobs evolving into screams.

“Madison, wake up. Come on, honey.”

Dominic’s sister’s eyes bolted open. She stared at Abbey without really seeing her for a long moment.

“Madi? Are you okay?”

She blinked, recognition dawning in her gaze. She clung to Abbey. “I heard Mom screaming. Daddy...” The girl shuddered.

“Hon, you’re all right now. You’re safe.”

The sound of Madi crying shredded her composure, thrusting her back in time. The memories of holding her daughter while she cried in pain ripped off the scab over the wound of Lisa’s death. Abbey felt the heartache again as though three years hadn’t passed.

Suddenly Madi yanked away from her. “Where’s Cottonball?” Her gaze fastened onto the bichon, still on her bed but nearby. She pulled her close while wrapped in Abbey’s embrace. “I probably scared her.”

“She knew you were having a hard time. She stayed right by you.” Abbey combed Madi’s hair behind her ears, then framed her face. “Do you want to talk about the nightmare? Maybe I can help you.”

The little girl shook her head. “Can’t. I want to forget it. I...” Tears again welled in her eyes.

Abbey quickly searched for a way to take Madi’s mind off what had happened. “Do you know that Gabe must have heard you, and he got me up to come see if you were okay?”

“He did?” Madi glanced around for the Lab.

As if sensing she was searching for him, Gabe came closer, and when she held out her hand, he licked it.

Madi giggled. “That tickles.” She patted both Gabe and the bichon. “I like Cottonball sleeping with me. Can Gabe stay in here, too?”

“Sure. In fact, I’ll stay until you fall asleep, if you want.”

“Yes. I don’t like dreaming about the wreck.”

“I know, honey. Here let me tuck you in again.” Abbey straightened the sheets that looked like Madi had lost the battle with the covers. “There, is that better?”

The girl nodded, her mouth forming a big O as she yawned. “You can lie down. There’s room.” Madi scooched over to give Abbey even more of the bed.

“Sometimes I used to stay with my daughter until she fell asleep. I’d start telling her a story, and before I could finish, she would be asleep.” She couldn’t seem to stop the wave of memories. This weekend might be harder than she thought it would be.

“Can you tell me a story? What was your daughter’s favorite?”

Emotions jammed Abbey’s throat. She swallowed hard, shifting away to blink the moisture from her eyes.
“The Princess and the White Rose
.
”

“Oh, that sounds good. What was the princess’s name?”

“Rose. She prided herself on her gardens, working every day in them, even though her father, the king, didn’t want her to. He wanted her to find a young man and get married.”

Madi snuggled up against Abbey, her eyes sliding closed.

“Rose never wanted to get married. She was sure no man would understand her love of flowers, especially roses.” Abbey peered at Dominic’s sister. “Madi?”

The child didn’t stir beside Abbey. She continued holding the girl while she recalled the last time she’d told Lisa the story—the day before she’d died. She couldn’t do this. Madi reminded her too much of Lisa. They didn’t look alike, but the two were connected in Abbey’s mind.

When she was sure that Madi was sound asleep, Abbey left Gabe with the child and slipped out of the girl’s room, too restless to go back to bed yet. She thought she would fix a cup of the tea that helped her relax when she was wound tight.

When she entered the kitchen, she found Mrs. Ponder sitting at the table sipping something from a mug. Abbey noticed the black kettle was on a burner. “Is there some hot water left?”

“Yes.”

“May I use it and refill the kettle for you?”

“Help yourself. The water and kettle belong to Mr. Winters.” As Abbey crossed to the stove, Mrs. Ponder asked, “You can’t sleep, either?”

“No, Madi had a bad dream. Gabe woke me up so I could go comfort her.”

“He did? He must be smart.”

Abbey poured some hot water into a mug she found in the cabinet. “Gabe is sensitive to people’s needs.” Abbey turned with her tea and started to move toward the exit but decided not to. Instead, she took the chair across from Mrs. Ponder.

“I’m sure you’ve sensed I don’t like dogs.”

“I kind of got the feeling. Did you ever have a pet?”

“No,” Mrs. Ponder said in an abrupt tone, then took a drink.

Silence descended. Abbey started to rethink her decision to stay.

“I was cornered by a boxer when I was seven,” the housekeeper blurted out. “I still have scars from the bite marks on my arm.” She pulled up her sleeve on her nightgown to reveal the evidence of the dog attack. “I’ve learned to keep my distance. I tolerated Zoe mostly because she was small and Madison adored her.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been bitten before, too.”

“You have?”

“Yes. I was a teenager and helping my dad at his animal hospital. When I was assisting him in controlling an injured dog, the poodle bit me.” Abbey sipped her tea and released a long breath as she felt herself unwind. “Do you have trouble sleeping, too?”

“Sometimes.”

“After my daughter died and I couldn’t sleep well, my mother shared some tea she used to help her sleep. It’s a special green tea blend with chamomile. It relaxes me, and usually I’ll fall asleep. I didn’t like the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed for me.”

“When did your daughter die?”

Abbey cupped her mug between her palms and stared at Mrs. Ponder. Surprised at the kind expression in her eyes, Abbey answered, “Three years ago.”

“I had a son who died when he was a teenager. I think of him every day. A parent shouldn’t have to lose a child.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. It’s never easy.” In that moment, Abbey realized she would try to get to know Mrs. Ponder. Abbey understood her suffering. “What happened?”

“A motorcycle wreck. He lived for two days. What happened to your daughter?”

“She died when she was five from leukemia.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“Does that tea really help you? I’ve been trying various things and haven’t found a remedy yet.”

“Usually. Would you like to try some of mine? I have plenty.”

“Sure. Why not? It can’t be any worse than this—” Mrs. Ponder held up her cup “—which was advertised to help a person sleep. It hasn’t, and I’ve been drinking it for a week.” She made her way to the stove and fixed herself a cup of Abbey’s tea.

When she retook her chair, Mrs. Ponder sipped her drink. “Mmm. There’s a hint of banana in this.”

“Yes. It surprised me, too. But a banana has tryptophan. It changes to melatonin and serotonin, which can aid in sleeping.”

“I’m glad Mr. Winters was able to go to Houston. I’ve seen how worried he’s been about his employees in Costa Sierra. He needed to attend the funeral.”

As she talked with Mrs. Ponder, Abbey relaxed, whether it was from the tea or from the fact that, for the first time since she’d been in the house, Mrs. Ponder was personable. She never thought she’d feel a kinship with the woman who didn’t like animals in her house, but she did. Abbey finished her tea and rose. “It was nice getting to know you. I’d better go up and check to make sure Madi has stayed asleep. Although I suspect if she hadn’t, Gabe would have come down and gotten me.”

“Hmm. That’s interesting. He’s really that sensitive to Madison’s moods?”

“Yes. When I used to have nightmares after Lisa died, he’d wake me up and comfort me. There was something about petting him that always calmed me. I think that’s what Madi is discovering.”

“Good. She’s gone through so much these past six months.”

“I’ll leave the tea down here. Take what you need. I have plenty.” Abbey left the kitchen, thanking God for giving her a chance to see another side to Mrs. Ponder. She might not have converted her into an animal lover, but at least now she knew how to connect with her.

* * *

“How is everything going with Madi?” With his cell phone against his ear, Dominic pushed to his feet behind his desk. Restless, he paced his Houston office, part of him wishing he was back at the ranch. But he had a duty to the people who worked for him, who depended on his company for their livelihood.

“She had another bad dream last night. Gabe woke me up, and I stayed with her until she fell asleep.”

The concern and care in Abbey’s voice soothed Dominic’s guilt that he should be in Oklahoma rather than in Texas. It eased the uneasy feelings of being pulled into two different directions. “Did she scream out?”

“No, just wrestled with her covers and moaned.”

“I usually don’t know she’s having a bad dream until she screams out. As I told you, I have a monitor in her room, but I’ve been so exhausted that I must sleep too soundly. So a dog like Gabe could alert me before it gets bad?”

“Possibly. He used to wake me up when I had nightmares.”

“After your daughter’s death?”

“Yes.”

A wealth of unsaid emotion was bound up in that one-word answer. Dominic wished he could be there, not only for his sister, but for Abbey, too. He realized his sister was the same age as her daughter would have been if she’d lived. That couldn’t be easy on Abbey, and yet she’d agreed to help him. “Then I may need to get a dog like Gabe. In six months Madi has only gone a couple of nights without waking up from bad dreams, and she never talks to me about them. I think it would help.”

“I agree. I know a lady who trained Gabe to help me know when Lisa needed me at night. I can see if Emma has another dog like him.”

“That would be great.”

“I wish I could give you Gabe, but...” Her raspy voice faded into the silence.

“I wouldn’t ask you to give up your dog. I know how special he is to you. You’ve done so much for us, Abbey. I wouldn’t even know it was possible to have an animal to alert me like that.”

“Emma, a veterinarian assistant at my dad’s animal hospital, has a brother who was a soldier in the Middle East. He returned home with post-traumatic stress disorder. That’s when she read up about the dogs that could help him and started training one for him.”

“Thanks, Abbey. It’s a great idea. I’ll try to be home as early as I can. I’ve imposed on you long enough.”

“Don’t worry about that. We all need help from time to time. What kind of Christian would I be if I didn’t offer to help you?” Madi said something to Abbey in the background. “Your sister has reminded me we’re due at the nursing home soon, and she’s ready to go with Cottonball and Gabe. See you soon. Bye.”