“Are you and April settling in okay? Is there anything you need?”
“Not a thing. We’ve both settled in amazingly well, thanks to you. I can’t think of anyone, aside from our immediate family, who would’ve opened up their house to us the way you have.”
“I’m just glad I can help—and glad that you’re both feeling comfortable here. That’s the most important thing, as far as I’m concerned.”
“And that’s why you probably have a lifetime of good karma built up.” She tosses me a wink, then looks thoughtful again. “Oh, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Shoot. I’m apparently in the mood to tell all my secrets tonight.”
“This will hopefully be an easier question for you. Do you like elephants?”
I blink. Out of all the questions she could’ve possibly asked, that one wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years.
“Elephants?”
Her smile widens. “There’s that beautiful painting in your living room. The one with the elephant family by the watering hole? I think I notice a new detail every time I look at it.”
I nod even though I’m struggling to remember the painting she’s talking about. In my mind, I’m mentally walking through the house until I get to the living room—the formal one that never gets used—and then I see it.
The large canvas hanging above the world’s most uncomfortable couch.
“Oh, that. Actually, that was here when I bought the place. The previous owners left a bunch of art behind, and I’m almost embarrassed to say I never changed anything.”
“Really? It fits you. This whole time we’ve been talking, I’ve been thinking about you and that painting. About how it must represent your strong, protective, family-oriented side.”
Now that I’m hearing her say it like that, I can sort of see what she means. I’ll have to give it a closer look the next time I pass by.
“I’d like to say that I planned it that way, or that it was fate or something like that.” I shrug and shake my head. “But I really can’t take credit for much of the house. The gym in the basement is my baby from top to bottom. And this sauna. But yeah, that’s about it. Why? Do you like elephants?”
Her answer is almost immediate. “I do. I’ve loved them since I was even younger than April. There’s something amazing and wonderful about how intelligent they are. Not just smart, but the kind of emotional intelligence you don’t see in many other animals. They mourn their dead and remember friends they haven’t seen in decades. It’s fascinating when you start to dig into everything they’re capable of doing.”
The pure passion in her voice is enough to draw me in. She talks about elephants the way I talk about hockey, and I’m honestly starting to take an interest in them just because she makes them sound so intriguing.
“Did you know they can recognize themselves in mirrors?” She shakes her head, as if the fact is blowing her mind all over again. “And they’ve been seen to help other elephants in distress. Even ones they don’t know.”
She starts telling me about an incident with a baby elephant that fell into a pit, but as she speaks, something on her wrist catches my attention.
A scar.
No, several scars.
Smooth, straight lines that stand out against her tanned skin. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been talking so enthusiastically, but now that I’ve seen them, they’re impossible to ignore.
“Heather?” I interrupt. “What are those?”
“What?” She follows my gaze down to the marks on her arms. “Oh. Those.”
There’s a knot in the pit of my stomach, and I wish like hell that I could look away and pretend I hadn’t seen them in the first place.
“They’re nothing. Seriously.” She pulls her arms in like she’s hugging herself. “Seriously. It’s nothing to worry about.”
Our conversation has gone from lively and fascinating to tense and guarded in the blink of an eye. It’s really not my place to push for more information, even though I don’t believe that those scars came from “nothing.”
She stands abruptly before I can change my mind and ask anything else. “I should check on April and make sure she’s in bed.”
All I can do is nod as she reaches for her towel and covers her body before slipping out the door.
Chapter 11
