Soldier's Rescue. Betina Krahn

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       CHAPTER THREE

      THE GOLDEN WAS holding her own.

      Kate stood at the counter of the rear surgery at noon that Saturday, entering notes into the computer on her last patient of the day when the golden raised her head. She drank from the water bowl they had placed nearby, and Kate paused to watch, marveling at the dog’s progress. The golden was still weak, but the stitches were holding and she was showing some interest in food, at least if it came from a human hand. She seemed to be comfortable around people, and Kate couldn’t help wondering for the twentieth time where she had come from and why she was wandering the countryside in the company of a temperamental shepherd.

      “You know,” she said to the dog, “if you stay around here much longer, we’re going to have to give you a name. If you have any preferences, you’d better speak up, because Jess is dying to name some poor critter ‘Ermahgerd.’”

      She knelt by the dog, running hands over her silky head and soft ears. “Good girl.” The dog gave a tail thump in response and Kate smiled. She checked the IV line taped to the dog’s foreleg, found it secure and slid inescapably into the memory of how it was done. Those big hands—she could see them in perfect detail—neatly muscular, surprisingly agile—

      “That papillon of Mrs. Richardson’s is a piece of work.”

      Kate started and turned to see her partner exiting exam room 3.

      “The old lady swears ‘Poochie’ picks out her own outfits every day,” Jess continued, shaking her head. “Today it was blue taffeta and pearls. Pearls. The dog’s got a better wardrobe than most women I know.”

      “Well, it wouldn’t take much to be better than mine,” Kate said with a laugh, tucking her hair behind her ears and rising. She looked down at her khakis and the faded green polo awash in animal hair and sporting a couple of damp spots she didn’t want to investigate too closely.

      Jess, on the other hand, looked like an ad for vintage Abercrombie & Fitch: plaid shirt and stylishly faded jeans beneath her white coat, and expensive, half-laced hiking boots. She stood six feet tall, had long, dark hair that she wore pulled back into a haphazard bun, and moved with an athletic grace Kate had always envied. Even in her most windblown or just awakened state, she managed to look good.

      They were complete opposites, which was probably one of the reasons they had become fast friends the first semester of vet school and had always wanted to go into practice together. Short, honey-blonde Kate was the neat one, the careful planner and progress monitor, the one determined to iron out all the wrinkles in life. Jess was messy in everything but her work, spontaneous and adventuresome, and loved parties, men and changing her mind.

      “How is she doing?”

      “She’s coming along.” There was no small bit of pride in Kate’s assessment. “If she keeps this up, in another few days we can move her to the shelter.”

      Jess came to stand beside her and look down at her patient.

      “Then maybe she’ll get to see her boyfriend again.” She chuckled. “That dude’s a handful. I can’t imagine anybody scooping him up and taking him home. Not unless they live in a bunker somewhere.” She shrugged out of her white coat and hung it on a hook by the waiting-room door. “Hey, maybe you ought to call that big trooper and have him come over to help move her.” She brightened visibly. “You know, the one with all those muscles and the uniform.”

      Kate gave her a don’t-go-there look and regretted ever mentioning Nick Stanton to her, much less describing him so thoroughly. She fished through the papers on the nearby counter for the shopping list she’d made last night. “Don’t you have a supply run to make?”

      “I’m just sayin’.” Jess’s smile was pure provocation. “I know you have a weakness for uniforms.” Kate’s deepening glower only incited her to continue. “You’ve got to live while you can, Kate. You can’t let what happened with Jared ruin the rest of your life.”

      “My life is not ruined just because I’m not attached to a man. I have a lot to do, and I enjoy what I do. I don’t have time for...wasting my time.” That last came out a little more vehemently than she intended. Jess put her hands up in surrender, then snatched the list and headed for the back door, where she paused for one more volley.

      “Sex, properly done, is never a waste of time, sweetums.”

      Kate watched the door well after it closed, roundly annoyed by her partner’s final salvo. Jess was fond of making one last crack and escaping before she could make a blistering comeback. Not that she usually could come up with a blistering comeback, but she at least deserved the chance to try. The man thing was a running argument they would likely never settle: Kate believed in stable and serious relationships, while Jess pursued fierce and spontaneous affairs of the heart.

      “Doc?” LeeAnn Monroe, their spiky-haired receptionist, poked her head through the double doors that led to the waiting room. “The patients are all gone and I finished the bank deposit, but before I could lock the doors, a man walked in, asking to see you.”

      “What about?”

      “He said it was about that golden—the one that cop brought in.”

      A frisson of expectation ran down her spine. “Is it a state trooper?”

      The quirky receptionist shrugged. “No uniform. Big sucker, though.”

      “You СКАЧАТЬ