The childâs name on the chart held Jacob Hartmanâs gaze riveted. Andy Morgan. The eight-year-old from Stoneâs Refuge had possibly another broken bone. Flashes of the last time the boy had been in his office, only a few weeks before, paraded across his mind.
With a sigh, Jacob entered the room to find the boy perched on the edge of the exam table, his face contorted in pain as he held his left arm, in a makeshift sling, close to his body. A woman Jacob wasnât familiar with stood to the side murmuring soothing words to Andy. She turned toward Jacob, worry etched into her faceâand something else he couldnât decipher. Her mouth pinched into a frown that quickly evolved into an unreadable expression.
Jacob shook off the coolness emanating from the young woman. âHi, Andy. Remember me? Iâm Dr. Jacob,â he said, using the name the children at the refuge knew him by. âHow did you hurt your arm?â He gently removed the sling made from an old T-shirt and took the injured, swollen limb into his hands.
When he probed the forearm, Andy winced and tried to draw it back. âI fell.â The childâs lower lip trembled, and he dug his teeth into it.
âHe was climbing the elm tree next to the barn and fell out of it.â When Jacob glanced toward her, taking in the concern in the womanâs dark blue gaze, she continued in a tense voice that had a soft Southern lilt. âIâm the new manager at Stoneâs Refuge. Hannah Smith. I was told when there was a medical problem to bring the children to you. This is only my second day, and no one else was around. The other kids are at school. Andy was supposed to be there, too. Iââ she offered him a brief smile that didnât reach her eyes ââI talk too much when Iâm upset.â
No doubt the tension he felt coming from the refugeâs new manager was due to Andyâs accident. âI take care of the childrenâs medical needs.â Jacob buzzed for his nurse. âAndy, can you do this for me?â He demonstrated flexing and extending his wrist and fingers.
With his forehead scrunched, the boy did, but pain flitted across his features. He tried to mask it, but Jacob knew what the child was going through. Heâd experienced a few broken bones in his own childhood and remembered trying to put up a brave front. He learned to do that well. Jacob unlocked a cabinet and removed a bottle of ibuprofen.
He handed the boy the pain pills and a glass of water. âWhy werenât you at school?â Children like Andy were the reason he had become a pediatrician, but he hadnât quite conquered the feelings generated when he was confronted with child abuse.
The boy dropped his head, cradling his arm against his chest. âI told the other kids I was going back to the cottage because I didnât feel good. I hid instead. I donât like school. I want to go home.â
âJust as soon as I get a picture of your arm and we get it fixed up, you can go home.â
Andyâs head snapped up, his eyes bright. âI can? Really?â
Hannah Smith stepped closer and placed a hand on the childâs shoulder. Apprehension marked her stiff actions. âBack home to the refuge.â
âNo! I want to go home.â Tears welled up in Andyâs brown eyes, and one slid down his thin face.
âAndy, you canât. Iâm sorry.â Calmness underscored her words as tiny creases lined her forehead. Her concern and caring attitude accentuated her beauty.
Having realized his mistake, Jacob started to respond when the door opened and the nurse appeared. âTeresa, Andyâs visiting us again. We need an X-ray of his left arm.â
âHello, Andy. What did you do to your arm?â Teresa, a petite older woman with a huge, reassuring smile, helped the child down from the table. âI bet you remember where our prize box is. Once we get the X-ray done, Iâll let you check it out.â
âI can?â
âSure. If I remember correctly, you were also eyeing that red car the last time. Itâs still there.â
âIt is?â Andy hurried out of the room, still holding his arm across his chest.
The refugeâs manager started to follow the pair. Jacob blocked her path and closed the door. Frowning, she immediately backed up against the exam table.
âIâd like a word with you, Ms. Smith. Teresa will take care of Andy. He knows her. She spent quite a bit of time with him several weeks ago.â
Her dark blue gaze fixed on him, narrowing slightly. âI havenât had a chance to read all the childrenâs files yet. What happened the last time he was here?â
Obviously she was upset that something like this occurred on her watch. But beneath her professional demeanor, tension vibrated that Jacob suddenly sensed went beyond what had occurred to Andy. âHis mother brought him in with a nasty head wound, and I called social services. Her story didnât check out. Thankfully he was placed quickly at Stoneâs Refuge.â