What the Heart Knows. Margaret DaleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
Lately Mark preferred to live in the dark, but she wouldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to do everything on her own, she couldn’t refuse help—not now when her son’s health was at stake. If she had an ounce of strength left in her, she would discover with Jared’s assistance what was wrong with Mark.
Chapter Two
Kathleen sat at her table in the kitchen looking out her bay window into the backyard. A green blanket of lush grass extended to a rock garden where a stone bench and birdbath beckoned. Watching a male cardinal land on a branch of her maple tree, she thought about her encounter the night before at the church with Dr. Jared Matthews. There was a presence about him that gave her some hope he might succeed where she hadn’t been able to with her son. Maybe he would be able to reach Mark.
As she brought the cup of hot tea to her lips, the doorbell rang, startling her from her musings. She checked the clock on the wall and noticed it was still early in the morning—eight. Quickly, before the person rang the bell again, she hurried to the door. Mark hadn’t been asleep long and she didn’t want anyone waking him up. He had been so tired after the talent show, and yet she’d heard him roaming around until a few hours ago.
When she opened the front door, she blinked several times, surprised to find Jared Matthews standing on her porch, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Dressed in navy blue running shorts and a white T-shirt, he smiled, dimpling both cheeks. Sweat glistened on his brow and dampened his shirt. “I was on my way home from jogging in the park and thought since I wasn’t too far from you I would stop by and see how Mark is doing after last night.”
“He’s asleep right now. Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee? Tea? I was having a cup of hot tea, but I can fix you some coffee if you like.”
Shaking his head, he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Anything hot right now doesn’t sound too appealing, but I’ll take a tall glass of ice water.”
She stepped to the side. “Come in.”
He didn’t move. “I’ve been jogging.”
She laughed. “Believe me, my kitchen table has seen worse than a man who’s been jogging sitting at it.”
He opened the screen door and came into the house, his large frame filling the small entry hall. He took a deep breath. “Something smells good.”
“I’m baking bread.”
“Baking bread? People still do that?”
“I’d do it even if I didn’t like to eat it just for the smell.”
“My mom used to bake bread, but that was ages ago. I haven’t had freshly made bread since I was a young kid.”
“I have one loaf finished. I’ll cut you a piece if you want.”
“There’s no way I’ll turn down that offer.” His smile grew, deepening the two dimples in his cheeks. “This is my lucky morning.”
Jared trailed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the glass table. She brought him some ice water, then returned to the counter to cut several slices of bread.
“Do you like to cook?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. You could call it one of my passions.”
“One?” He arched a brow. “What other passions do you have?”
The question caused her to pause. Tilting her head, she thought about it, realizing so many of her passions had been tied up with John. They had loved to hike and camp as a family. They had taken pride in fixing up their old house room by room until it had been stamped with their personalities throughout. “You know, besides cooking, I suppose I like to read just about any type of book.”
“You don’t sound very convinced.”
“So many things that I used to do were connected with my husband and son. Since my husband’s death there’s been a void that’s been hard to fill.” Kathleen finished slicing the bread, then brought the plate to the table and sat. “You probably know what I mean. Didn’t your wife die recently?”
A slight tensing of the shoulders and clenching of the jaw were the only indication Jared was bothered by her question. He took a sip of his water and picked up a piece of warm bread. “Alice has been gone for a little over a year.”
“Then you know how hard it can be to start a new life.”
“Yes,” he clipped out, downing half his water in several gulps.
“I married John when I was twenty. I’ve never had a career and I don’t have to work now. But suddenly I’m finding my life isn’t fulfilling, the way it was when my family was whole. I still take care of Mark and the house, but everything has changed. It’s as though I’m at sea adrift with no place to go.”
“Have you thought about getting a job?”
Kathleen nodded. “But with the way Mark’s been behaving lately, I don’t think I should. Maybe if things are better when he starts school in two months, I’ll try to find something to do.”
“You can always volunteer. We could use someone to organize volunteers at our hospital. Or I could always use an extra person to help with the youth group at church.”
Kathleen sipped her lukewarm orange-spice tea. “I’ll think about that. I used to volunteer at Mark’s school in Shreveport, as well as at our church. I enjoyed doing both of those jobs. If I’d finished college, I probably would have gone into a career as a social worker or a teacher. I like working with people, helping them.”
“That’s one of the reasons I became a doctor. I suppose you could say fixing problems is a passion of mine.”
“Since I have a problem, I’m glad it is.”
Jared settled back in his chair, relaxing totally as his gaze shifted to the large bay window. “Your yard is beautiful.”
“I wish I could take credit, but the former owners must have loved yard work. They did a wonderful job landscaping. I like to drink my tea in the morning and look outside or sit on the deck if it’s not too hot. There’s something about a rock garden that’s soothing.”
“The Hendersons, who owned this house, often worked wonders with the church garden. That’ll be a void we’ll have to fill.”
Kathleen chuckled. “Don’t look at me. If I can’t find someone to do my yard, this may be the best you’ll see.”
“Actually I was thinking of taking over that job at the church. I love to work in the yard, get my hands dirty. One of my favorite things is to commune with nature.”
“I love to commune with nature, too, like a connoisseur who appreciates fine art but doesn’t actually paint.” Their gazes connected, forming a momentary bond between them. “But I haven’t done any communing with nature lately. John, Mark and I would go out—” Her voice trailed off into silence. That life was over. She had to move on—quit thinking about the past.
“Go where?” Jared asked, his gaze returning to the yard, breaking the bond.
She flattened her back against the chair, the wooden slats pressing into her. “Camping and hiking. Also on trips into the bayous.” A long time ago, she thought. She’d come home to start a new life.
“With snakes and alligators?”
“Yes.”
“I’m impressed. I could never get my wife to go anywhere outdoors with Hannah, Terry and me.”
“She didn’t like being outside?”
“No.”
Again a shutter fell over his features, clearly putting an end to the direction of the conversation. A finely honed tension sprung