Deadly Silence. Lindsay McKenna
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Megan with some maternal care. Obviously, Megan needed to be held by a woman. And probably any woman would do. Gently running her hand across Megan’s flyaway hair, she smoothed the strands down across her head. Rocking her gently, Casey simply allowed the child to stay as long as she wanted in her arms.
Five minutes later, Megan withdrew. Her cheeks were a fiery red and her eyes danced with excitement as she ran around the table, grabbed the photos and then brought them back to Casey. “What is this?” she asked Megan, hoping that she would talk.
Megan made more guttural sounds, like a puppy that was yelping and happy as she waved the photos in front of Casey’s face.
“I think,” Matt said, his voice sounding strangled, “Meggie wants you to help her draw them.” He gave Casey a look that pleaded with her to stay a bit longer.
Casey read his look. “Sure, no problem. Does Megan have crayons and paper in her bedroom?”
Swallowing hard, Matt nodded. His mouth flattened and he tried to hide his shock over Megan clinging to Casey. She’d never done that before. “Yeah…come on,” he said, scraping the chair back and standing.
Casey followed suit. Megan wouldn’t leave her side. Taking the child’s hand, Megan pulled her down a hall and into her bedroom behind her father. Megan’s room was painted a soft pink with ruffled white curtains embroidered with red strawberries. It was a beautiful room that had been painted and decorated with a great deal of care and thought. Matt was standing by the desk getting the crayons out of the drawer for Megan.
Megan dragged Casey over to the desk. She released her hand and sat down, grabbing a black crayon. Matt laid the paper in front of her. Megan then set the pictures next to the paper and rapidly began to draw. As she did, she made excited yelps of happiness.
Casey’s brows rose. She stood inches away from Matt. He looked grave. His mouth was thinned and flexed, as if holding back words or emotions that he couldn’t express right now. Casey could feel the heat of his masculine body and the scent of pine around him. Was it an aftershave lotion he wore? The shampoo he used on his hair? She couldn’t be sure. Dizzied by his nearness, Casey couldn’t move because Megan wanted her at her side.
“Look at that,” Casey whispered, leaning down, her hand resting lightly on Megan’s shoulder. “You’re a wonderful artist!” And indeed, she was. Drawing the barn owl came easily to Megan. She missed nothing, the crayons scattered as she worked feverishly to get the right color of eyes, the tan and creamy feathers on the owl and her bright yellow legs. Looking up at Matt, Casey said, “Wow, your daughter is a real artist. This is amazing!”
Matt took a step back. His gut knotted. Guilt soared through him along with unparalleled joy. Nodding, he didn’t dare try to speak. Swallowing the lump of tears stuck in his throat, he finally managed to say, “Let’s leave Megan alone. She loves to draw. I think she’ll be in here for at least an hour. She’ll draw each of those photos for you. Would you like another cup of coffee?” Matt was desperate to talk with Casey. She had to realize what had just taken place. It was a miracle he’d never dared hoped for. A miracle.
Getting the hint, Casey said, “Yes, I’d love another cup.” Turning to Megan, she patted the child’s shoulder. “You’re doing wonderfully, Megan. Why not draw each photo? I know your dad would love to see them when you’re done. If you need us, we’ll be out in the kitchen.”
Megan was focused on her work. There were no sounds, no recognition, and Casey quietly left the room and followed Matt to the kitchen. There, she found him scowling, a mixture of emotions clearly written on his face. He was leaning against the sink, hands on either side, staring darkly in her direction as she emerged from the hall.
Heart speeding up, Casey walked over to the counter and stood in front of him. She saw he was in a quandary, his mouth working to hold back something, either words or feelings. “Tell me, has Megan ever done this before?”
Matt shook his head. He saw the intelligence burning in Casey’s gray eyes. Hell, if he could, he’d run into her arms just to be held, too. His daughter could do it, but he couldn’t. He whispered, “I guess there’s something special about you, Casey. Megan needed you. I’ve never seen her do this to any other woman.” He didn’t mention there weren’t that many other women who came here. “We go to church every Sunday and there are plenty of opportunities for Megan to run to any woman if she wanted to be embraced and held. But she never has. Not until now…”
He searched Casey’s upturned face. She was beautiful in an arresting way. Her face was broad, oval and she had high cheekbones. He saw a scar on her left temple and realized her nose had been broken. It was no longer straight, but had a bump at the top of it. Her brows reminded him of a bird on the wing. Lashes, dark and thick, framed her glorious gray eyes that reminded him of diamonds softly sparkling.
“I see,” Casey said. She retrieved her coffee cup and filled it. Sitting down at the table, Casey said, “Do you think something good is happening here? Maybe the raptor program broke something loose in Megan? I don’t know her. What do you feel?”
Matt remained leaning against the sink. The coolness of the granite counter calmed him to a degree. His heart was racing. His mind churned. “For whatever reason,” he rasped, keeping his voice purposely low so it wouldn’t carry to Megan’s opened door at the end of the hall, “Megan has finally bonded with someone. Every shrink I took her to said that before she would speak, she’d have to form a bond with another woman. They said at some point, she’d reach out and find a substitute mother. I guess that’s you, Casey….”
CHAPTER FOUR
SHOCKED BY MATT’S STATEMENT, Casey whispered, “I’m not sure I can be that for Megan. I’d like to help her where and when I can, though.”
Rubbing his brow, Matt nodded. There was nothing to dislike about Casey. “Thanks, I realize this is an odd request. I really appreciate anything you can do.” He knew he was asking a lot of her. After all, Casey was a stranger to them, for all intents and purposes. He’d been so startled by Megan’s reaction to Casey, that he’d blurted his request out. Silently chastising himself, Matt realized belatedly he shouldn’t have asked that of Casey. She was a newcomer to the town and this was her first job after college. What a fool he’d been. How to fix it?
Biting down on her lower lip, Casey remained silent. Gwen Garner had told her everything about Matt’s tragedy. It wasn’t up to her to bring it up. She could see the pain in his eyes and had no wish to cause him more.
“I’m sure you know what happened to us,” Matt said without preamble. He automatically looked toward the hall to Megan’s room. Keeping his voice low, he said, “Mrs. Harrington saw such a change in Megan with the owl on her glove that she suggested I call the pediatric psychiatrist in Idaho Falls.” Matt added, “Barbara Ward has been the most help to me in understanding what’s happened to Megan.” He stared darkly down at the mug of coffee in his hands. “And you need to understand what happened, too.”
“Of course,” Casey murmured. Oh, how badly she wanted to reach out and give Matt some sort of solace! She could see his eyes alive with hope and fraught with guilt mingled with fear. His mouth, she was discovering, thinned whenever he was tense. It relaxed when he was not. He had a very kissable mouth. Casey was surprised at her reaction to him. Since her own near-death experience four years ago, she’d lost all interest in men. Until now.
Matt began, “Barbara told me that someday, when Megan’s memory of that night was ready to become conscious, something would trigger it.” He gave Casey a glance. The sympathy written across her features made Matt want to reach out and embrace her. He had no idea where all of that came from and savagely tamped down the unexpected desire. “I believe that the owl incident was a trigger, but I’m not sure. I have a call in to Dr. Ward to discuss it with her.”
“That sounds hopeful,” Casey said.
“Dr. Ward also said that Megan, at some point, might bond with another woman who she perceives as motherlike. A nurturing woman. She felt it would eventually