Free Healing Hearts by Kim Watters

the days grew shorter. The stark contrast of bare trees reaching their limbs to the gray-stained sky had always fascinated him. He wondered what season Sarah liked best.
    Sarah. Last night was a revelation. She’d given away another piece of her identity, allowing him to understand her better. Her walls were a defense mechanism, meant to protect her from what must have been a life from hell. Grant could only wonder at the things that happened, not wanting to give voice to the horrible things that crossed his mind.
    He also realized the information she’d given him hand t been easy, and he was glad he hadn’t kissed her again like he’d done in the office. Because this time, he didn’t think it would be a light peck on the lips. His body had ached for it, but he wasn’t sure Sarah was ready for that kind of intimacy. With a few barriers down, Grant might be able to span the vast gulf that still lay between them. A few more weeks and maybe he would know the whole story. He sure wanted to.
    He gulped in the fresh air as his feet pounded against the asphalt. Something about Sarah brought out his protective streak and touched him deep inside. Maybe it was her shyness and her vulnerability, or maybe it was, in spite of everything, he still believed in doing good things for others. He knew there were things he could do for Sarah. He could start by chasing away those unhappy memories and creating some sort of stability in her life.
    Running by the old high school, Grant waved at the custodian before he looped around and headed home. Mr. Cruz had been there ever since his parents had attended Greer High. Rumor had it he was retiring after this year. Grant wondered who’d clean the spit-wads from the bathroom ceilings and extricate the laboratory frogs flushed down the toilets before they backed up the plumbing.
    Not that he had ever been guilty of doing any of those pranks. Had Sarah ever done any stunts like that? There was still so much he didn’t know about her. So much he wanted to find out, but if he wasn’t careful, he might scare her back into the shell he’d finally managed to crack.
     
    Invigorated from his run, Grant was surprised—and happy—to see two people waiting from him in the clinic when he arrived. The ad he’d started to run in the local paper must be working. Business had picked up in the past few days.
    Aunt Mary was doing her best to keep track of a conversation on the phone while the chocolate lab barked at the caramel-colored cat huddled in the corner of its kennel.
    Grant wished Sarah was there to settle the fray.
    “Hi, I’m Dr. Morrison.” He greeted the stranger who had just finished filling out the necessary paperwork before turning his attention to his mother’s friend.
    “Hi, Mrs. Polk, trouble with Misty today?” He nodded toward the dog. “Come on back.”
    Grant glanced at the information the thin, graying woman had handed him. “Aunt Mary, put Mrs. Williams and Taffy in room two. I’ll be right in.” He motioned Mrs. Polk to follow him.
    The first half of the morning flew by. After his fourth patient, a cat with nothing more than a hairball, Grant lifted his arms over his head and stretched. Ten o’clock and he missed Sarah.
    Her silent strength, her attention to details, her quiet calm was what he needed at his side. But while Sarah was more efficient, his aunt’s skill at the books couldn’t be beat.
    If only he could have Sarah work for him fulltime, but Grant knew he couldn’t pay her what she was worth. At least not yet. He’d only been open six months. The ad, the animal articles he wrote, and word of mouth helped but he was still a long way from justifying the added expense. His loan payment plus rent and supplies stretched the budget tight.
    But he didn’t regret opening his own clinic when he did. Aside from Dr. Witherspoon, who was ready to retire in a few years’ time, the only other clinics were 5 miles away in Denton. With the growing population, Greer