Page 47 of Heart of the Sun

Katelyn craned her neck as we walked by, obviously getting a look at what had to be a person sleeping on the sofa. The boy with the broken arm, I assumed.

I saw a family photo on the wall, including an older woman who was obviously their mom. But she didn’t appear to be here. Was she gone somewhere? Or were she and the sheriff divorced?

We followed Katelyn and the sheriff into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Dad’s going to grill some dinner out back,” she said, nodding toward the window where I could see the side of a barbecue. “We’re trying to conserve the gas, but we also need to eat the meat we have before the last of the ice melts and it spoils.”

“We really appreciate the hospitality.” I smiled. “We can’t thank you enough.”

“People have to come together in a time like this,” Katelyn said.

“It seems like your town is doing that,” I said.

“We are. But Silver Creek is small.” She glanced at her dad worriedly. “It’s the bigger towns that might be scarier.”

There was a stilted moment that I didn’t really understand as her gaze hung on her dad before he looked away. “Tuck has a little medical training and is going to take a look at Brent’s arm,” he said. The sheriff cleared his throat and clapped Tuck on the back. “I appreciate you being willing, but like I said, if it’s above your training level, you tell us truthfully.”

“Yes, sir,” Tuck said. “I will.”

I leaned against the counter, wincing when it made contact with the back of my hip, where I hadn’t had the chance to change my wound dressing since the day before, causing it to split.Great.Back to square one. The flash of Tuck’s warm hands on my skin several days before came back, but I pressed my hip against the counter again so the pain would move my mind away from that particular memory.

There was a soft cry from the direction of the living room, and Katelyn started moving toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured. “Dad, will you get out some Tylenol and a glass of water?” she asked, hurrying out of the room.

“Dammit to hell,” the sheriff muttered, rifling through a cabinet behind him and pulling out a bottle of Tylenol.

I looked over at Tuck as he watched the sheriff shake a couple pills into his hand.I felt a burst of sympathy. It must be miserable to watch your child—and your little brother—in pain and not be able to do anything.

“If you’re ready to take a look at that arm, now seems like a good time,” the sheriff said to Tuck.

If Tuck was nervous, he didn’t show it. And why he wouldn’t be nervous, I didn’t know. It’d been ages since he’d set a bone. And like he’d admitted to the sheriff, those had all been animal bones. But Tuck nodded. “Absolutely.”

Charlie made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like pessimism put to sound. And though I saw a muscle in Tuck’s jaw tighten, he didn’t look Charlie’s way, nor did he address him.

“Thanks. Follow me.”

Tuck and the sheriff left the room. I glanced at Charlie, and he rolled his eyes. “He’s a doctor now because he watched a vet a few times? What could possibly go wrong?” he murmured once they’d left the kitchen. “Seriously? The sheriff is a lunatic if he’s going to let some stranger who used to live on a farm touch his kid.”

I was a little skeptical as well. I’d lived with farm animals too, and I remembered the vet being called out now and again to set a fracture or…whatever, but I sure as heck couldn’t have performed one of the procedures myself. Then again, Tuck had always been much more interested in that sort of thing than me. I stood, gesturing for Charlie to come with me as we joined the rest of them in the living room.

The young boy was lying on the couch, his face contorted in a grimace as his sister supported him so he could sit up slightly and take the pills with a sip of water. His eyes widened when he saw Charlie. “Professor Tecton.”

Charlie’s grin was instantaneous. “At your service.” He looked at the sheriff, who was staring blankly. “I can create earthquakes. Or…you know, the character can.”

“Brent,” the sheriff said, ignoring Charlie and placing his hand on Tuck’s shoulder, “this is Tuck Mattice. He’s going to take a look at your arm and see if there’s anything he might do to ease your pain.” Katelyn gave her younger brother a reassuring smile, and Brent leaned his head back on the propped-up pillows. She smoothed his hair away from his face and then stood straight and reached for a short stool just behind her. She pulled it next to the couch and gestured for Tuck to take a seat.

“Thank you,” Tuck said as he sat down. Charlie and I moved just a bit closer so we could see over the couch, but still stood in the doorway. The sheriff and Katelyn moved behind Tuck as they observed.

“I’m going to press very gently on your arm,” Tuck said. “It might hurt just a little, but I’m going to try to feel what’s happening with your bones.” The boy nodded and held his arm toward Tuck, who took a minute to remove the sling it was in. “Are you able to bend it?” Tuck asked.

Brent shook his head. “No.”

Then Tuck held the boy’s forearm, his gaze shifting away as he used his hands to assess, moving his fingers around the elbow area. His hands were large, but seemingly very gentle as his thumbs pressed here and there. Brent’s expression was pained, though he didn’t pull away.

I had this sudden flash of Tuck hunkered down next to one of the vets on our farm as the man checked one of the goat’s legs. I had no recollection of how the animal had been injured or what the treatment had been, but that was because I hadn’t been watching the vet—I’d been watching Tuck, taking advantage of him being so focused on something that I could let my eyes linger on him to my heart’s content. Tuck had asked question after question, wanting to understand, wanting to help. And I’d been glad for the chance to watch him, but also, unreasonably jealous of that damn injured goat he’d been so interested in.

The memory hurt in some way I couldn’t exactly explain, an old scar suddenly pulled tight.

“When you fell, did you catch yourself with your hands?”

“I… I think so. Yes.”

---