It was too difficult to go there, to relive the pain and loss. Instead, she followed Emily up the stairs, then detoured to her own room. Quickly Brynn exchanged her smock for a fresh T-shirt. She made few concessions to ceremony these days, since the remote location of the house seldom made them necessary. There were times it seemed she lived on the edge of the world. And despite the counsel of family and friends, she needed the solitude.
Loneliness wasn’t a factor. Brynn knew she’d be equally alone in a crowded room. When she’d lost the ones she loved, a chasm had rent her soul. And no one could fill that void.
One of her beloved dogs, a Border collie named Virgil, pushed his muzzle into her hand. She patted his silky head and his tail wagged in silent support as they walked down the stairs together.
Brynn had only enough time to fix some iced tea before the doorbell rang. The Hills, Emily’s parents, could scarcely contain their anxiety.
But before Brynn could reassure them, Emily rushed down, her shoes making a noisy clatter on the wooden stairs. Running forward, she hugged her parents eagerly.
Surprise changed to gratitude as the Hills returned Emily’s embrace, the room filling with enthusiastic voices.
A few minutes later, Emily’s father still looked stunned as he glanced toward Brynn. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Enjoy your beautiful daughter,” Brynn replied.
After accepting thanks, she watched the trio get into their car, then waved until they were out of sight. Once back inside, with the door closed, she found that the silence seemed louder than the noise the happy family had made. Only the clicking of Virgil’s toenails broke the stillness.
Brynn strolled through the studio and onto the terrace. The house was too quiet, as it always was when a child left. And this one had stayed longer than most. As a result, Brynn was behind in her work. Contracts to three galleries had yet to be filled and she couldn’t afford to lose the work. However, once the commissioned pieces were completed, she needed to rest. She couldn’t mentor another child unless she had some downtime first.
Sitting in a comfortable, deep rocker, she surveyed the open green field before her. Her other three dogs were playing in the long grass, chasing rabbits or each other. Virgil was the one who glued himself to her side, keeping watch. Still, all the animals had adjusted well to the move. And to think less than a year earlier she’d had no pets. Now she couldn’t imagine not having them around.
Virgil had been a gift from her best friend, Julia Ford. Worried about Brynn after Sarah’s death, Julia had brought over the faithful dog. Unable to face the responsibility of having to care for another living creature and perhaps failing it, Brynn had determinedly headed for the shelter where Julia had purchased the dog, intending to return him. However, as she walked the aisles of caged animals, her tender heart had betrayed her.
Instead of returning Virgil, Brynn had brought home three additional dogs destined for destruction that day, along with two cats marked for a similar fate. And now they were her family.
A flash of sable surfaced in the field and she smiled. Shamus, her big, rambunctious setter mix, was galloping away from his smaller playmates. Brynn was indebted to her friend for far more than her pets. This was Julia’s ranch—loaned to Brynn without hesitation or limitations.
Brynn’s cell phone rang, interrupting her musing. She considered ignoring it, but knew she no longer had that luxury. The ranch phone rarely rang. Julia’s visits were sporadic and most callers knew that the cell phone was the best way to reach Brynn.
The man’s authoritative voice was one she didn’t recognize, and his request one she was hoping to avoid.
She listened to him for a few moments. “I’m sorry, Mr.… is it McKenzie? But I really can’t take on another child at this time.” Even now, exhaustion seeped through her bones. Helping a child took every bit of her limited emotional reserves.
“I was told you are the best,” McKenzie responded.
Hearing determination in his tone, she winced, knowing how desperate some parents were for help. “I appreciate the compliment—”
“It’s not a compliment. I wouldn’t be bothering you if I had an alternative. I’m not crazy about sending my child away. But she needs you.”
Brynn swallowed, hating to refuse, but knowing she had to. Battered by the events of the past year, her emotions were fragile. Although she volunteered willingly, she knew her limits. “Mr. McKenzie, the same people who recommended me can find you someone else.”
“You have a unique approach, Mrs. Alder. No one else takes a child on a one-to-one basis. Group programs haven’t helped my daughter. She’s been in the highly recommended ones and the mildly recommended ones. They didn’t make a dent.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. McKenzie.”
“This can’t be discussed on the phone,” he replied. “I can be at your place tomorrow—”
“No!” Fear made the word a screech. She calmed her voice. “As I said, I can’t help her. Goodbye, Mr. McKenzie.” She shut the phone, unwilling to hear more. Feeling the tightness in her throat, she made herself breathe more slowly.
Brynn had reluctantly given her phone number to Julia, family and a few doctors, but she’d never divulged her new home’s location. Even her mail went to a post office box in San Antonio, which Julia checked. Her friend alerted her to anything that needed an immediate response, then brought the mail when she visited. And so far, it had worked. No one had bothered her here.
Breathing normally now, Brynn rubbed Virgil’s ears. “I’m being ridiculous,” she told the dog. “There’s no way Mr. McKenzie or anyone else can find us here.”
Still, she felt better once she’d rounded up all the pets and securely locked them inside for the evening.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING Jake McKenzie wasn’t in any better humor, having driven through San Antonio’s rush hour and then another three hours to the outlying edge of the Hill Country.
As chief engineer of worldwide Canyon Construction, he had grappled with seemingly impossible projects—bridges that spanned massive distances, skyscrapers that defied earthquakes and mammoth construction sites hundreds of miles from civilization. But his twelve-year-old daughter, Andrea, was beyond his scope.
He slowed the car as he studied the sprawling ranch-style house. It didn’t look particularly remarkable. But the woman who lived there was reported to be more than remarkable. The parents of a child she’d helped had raved about Brynn’s success with their troubled daughter, so Jake had convinced a friend to put him in touch with Mrs. Alder.
He parked beneath a tall oak tree, and as he left the car, it was so quiet Jake wondered if she was home. The garage was set to the side and behind the low house. Its doors were shut firmly, concealing whether a car was inside.
Climbing the steps to the wide front porch, he strode to the door and knocked firmly. The deep quiet was shattered. Dogs barked madly, and something smacked the other side of the door. One of the dogs, he guessed. But he didn’t back away. He’d fight a pack of wolves if it meant helping Andrea.
As the yelping continued, he heard a woman’s voice through the noise. “Who is it?”
“Jake McKenzie.”
“McKenzie?”
“We spoke on the phone yesterday.”
For a moment all he could hear was the barking. Then she commanded the dogs to be quiet. “I told you then I couldn’t help you, Mr. McKenzie.”
“Are we going to continue