Tennessee Vet

by Carolyn McSparren

  “Above my skill level,” Stephen said with a smile.

  “Then I’ll take that big mug over Emma’s desk with one glug of creamer and two packets of sweetener. You did fine with Orville, Stephen. He wasn’t above your skill level.”

  “I’ve already been out to check on him. How is he doing?”

  “Better than I expected. We’ll need to move him to a bigger cage sooner than I imagined. He’s walking around grumbling. I borrowed jesses and a hood from my friend Jeremy when we set his wing. That should help us change his cage. Don’t want him moving much right now, but it won’t be long before he needs exercise. Birds like Orville either die on the table or mend fast.”

  “How soon do you need a flight cage?”

  “I have a couple of cages by the barn that can be linked together and will give him room to hop around and flex a bit. Soon, he has to be able to fly so that he can stoop and kill. He definitely does not like his meals dead.”

  “How big an animal can he take down?”

  “Good-size fish. He prefers them. Small rats, mice, snakes, even rabbits if he has room to lift off. Out west he’d go for trout or salmon, neither of which we have. So he goes for bream and crappie and the occasional catfish.”

  “I want to see him...what did you call it? Stoop?”

  “He can spot movement from an incredible height, fold those wings and dive straight down. The prey doesn’t stand a chance, but he kills clean and quick. Better than many humans do.”

  Better than life did, Stephen thought. Barbara’s husband had died quickly, but he doubted Barbara considered it a blessing. With Nina, there’d been time for hope, then despair, then more hope, more despair.

  But the loss was the same.

  The entire room of clients had been listening avidly. Now a lady hanging on to a large, scruffy hound said, “Poor little rabbits!”

  “Marian, honey,” Barbara said, “Virgil there has killed a bunch more rabbits than Orville ever will.”

  “I just hate it! But he will do it. I can’t keep ahold of him when he takes off after something. He pulls me right off my feet.” She dropped her head and grinned. “Must say, he misses a bunch more than he ever gets close to. He’s just a big ol’ baby, aren’t you, Virg?”

  “What’s wrong with him this morning?” Barbara asked.

  “Just needs his shots.”

  “Emma, tell whoever’s first on the list to go into the first exam room.” She turned to the room. “I’ll be right there, y’all. Come on, Stephen, time to visit the hospital ward.”

  One of the reasons Stephen felt such kinship with Orville was that he, too, felt put-upon and grumpy. In both their cases a motor vehicle had come out of nowhere and changed the course of their lives. Hopefully, Orville would take less time to heal and would heal completely. Stephen never would. Stephen crouched in front of the cage so that he was eye-to-eye with the eagle. “Benjamin Franklin was wrong,” Stephen said. “You may be a good-for-nothing thief who doesn’t even taste good like turkey, but you’ll come out swinging and fight for what you believe in.”

  “Food and family,” Barbara said with a laugh. “I don’t think he has a clue about truth or justice.”

  Stephen stood up. “If you have to believe in something, there are worse things than food and family.” She turned her head away from him. She was blushing. Those telltale earlobes were hot pink.

  Orville, no doubt feeling neglected, let forth one of his horrendous screeches. Startled, Barbara slipped and braced her hand against the front of Orville’s cage.

  Stephen grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from the cage a second before Orville’s beak struck the wire. “Hey! Watch it!” He kept her wrist and spun her to face him. “You okay?”

  Her eyes were wide with fear. He held her and heard her breathing speed up. He couldn’t look away. Those flecks in her eyes drew him to her as though he was a miner who’d discovered a seam of gold a foot wide.

  A moment later they were closer still. The kiss came without thought or even volition. It started out as a friendly peck. A moment later, it changed into a full-blown arms-around-the-neck kiss. One heck of a kiss before breakfast!

  Barbara broke the kiss first. Her pupils, when he was far enough away from her to see them, were large, and her skin felt warm where his hands held her arms.

  “He almost nailed you,” Stephen whispered. “He’s fast.”

  She held his eyes for a moment, then she moved away. “So much for rapport with a wild animal,” she said. She now sounded both casual and businesslike. He didn’t think he was capable of changing course so fast. He wanted to kiss her again, keep kissing her, holding her, until he could absorb her into his very bones. And he badly wanted to cuss out Orville, even though he knew that was ridiculous. Orville had done precisely what he’d been born to do.

  “You’re welcome to visit Orville for a while longer, but I have to go to work.” He watched her walk down the hall, open the door to the examining room, hesitate and actually brace herself against the doorjamb for a second. He grinned after her. So she wasn’t so casual after all. Simply better at acting.

  I have no idea what just happened, but that was one hell of a kiss, Stephen thought. It may be the last. She might never allow me that close again. He glanced behind him and caught Orville’s interested eyes. “I ought to thank you, not blame you. Hey, how can I fail with an eagle for a wingman?”

  He said goodbye to Emma at her computer station on his way out the front door. She acknowledged him with a quick wave before she went back to her conversation with a large man carrying a Yorkshire terrier that wore a red bow in its forelock.

  For a heavily pregnant woman, she was handling the pressure of juggling Barbara’s clients with aplomb.

  Stephen didn’t see how she could possibly work for Barbara much longer. Just carrying the baby must be exhausting. Once the baby came, she’d have her hands full at home. He didn’t know whether Seth was allowed paternity leave, and if so, whether it would be paid.

  Nina’s temper had been touchy the last six weeks she’d carried Anne and Elaine. His dean, the doting father of five daughters, had warned him that if he didn’t know how to duck and cover, he’d better learn, because women in the final stages of pregnancy and in labor tended to savage whichever male was responsible for getting them into their predicament. If Barbara was willing, he’d offer to help her. Writing his book seemed less and less important.

  He’d brought his folding hiking stick with him. Better than a cane. Not so obvious. Plenty of people who did not limp carried hiking sticks when they went for a walk. He could lean on it as well as keep his balance with it.

  He pulled it out of the capacious side pocket of his windbreaker, stood on the front steps of the clinic and opened it, then stepped aside for some sort of fluffy terrier that was pulling his owner in the opposite direction from the clinic.

  Stephen always felt like an idiot doing his stretches in public, but his doctor had made him promise not to start one of his walks without stretching first. He found a spot behind a horse trailer and went through his warm-up exercises. Then he started his two-mile walk home.

  The glorious morning had begun to cloud up. The breeze had stiffened and switched from west to northwest. That meant rain. Good thing he was walking early because he hadn’t brought his rain gear with him. He’d been warned to avoid getting wet and chilled, so he increased his pace along the road.

  Big mistake. It wasn’t just his leg that needed exercise, but his lungs did as well.

  By the time he’d gone what he considered halfway home, he was breathing hard and his knee throbbed. He’d only taken a few days off to get settled up here. Surely that small hiatus had not set him back.

  He told himself he was struggling because this country road was much rougher than the track around the lake at his rehab facility. He stubbed his toe a couple of tim
es and once had to catch himself with his stick to keep from stumbling and possibly falling.

  He was trying to decide whether he wanted to cross the shallow ditch that ran alongside the road and find somewhere to sit for a few minutes, when he heard a car coming around the curve behind him. He stepped closer to the side of the road and turned to see Seth Logan in his official fish-and-game SUV. He didn’t want to flag down Seth and admit that he could use some help, but he was glad when Seth pulled up beside him and stopped.

  “Morning, Stephen. How’s the walk going?”

  “Better than I deserve for skipping last week, and worse than I’d hoped.”

  “How about a lift home? It’s about to rain.”

  “I would very much appreciate a ride.” He agreed with Orville. Pain was a brute. Orville could make an unholy noise about his. College professors, however, did not shriek at the wind without being locked up somewhere they couldn’t hurt themselves. He walked around Seth’s truck, climbed in the passenger side and leaned against the high headrest with a sigh that nearly turned into a sob. “Damnation, Seth, I can’t even walk two miles on my own. I hate carrying that cane. If I use it long, my good leg starts to ache as well.”

  “You’ll get there. You haven’t been out of rehab that long, have you?”

  “Less than a month. Before the accident, I played golf and tennis and ran ten-K races for charity. I rode a bicycle back and forth to school a couple of times a week when the weather was good. I could count on my body to do what I asked.”

  He could still probably ride a quiet horse, but golf and tennis were out for the rest of his life. “To make up for this rescue ride, I’ll try checking out the rest of the property north of my house,” he said. “Assuming it’s not too muddy.”

  “Trust me,” Seth said, “It will be. You should put that off until I can show you around back there. Here we are.” Seth pulled off the road and stopped behind Stephen’s red truck.

  “I am in worse shape than I imagined,” Stephen said as he reached for the door handle.

  “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To build yourself back up?”

  “I am only now becoming aware of how far I have to go. My dean tells me I am here to write a book. My children say I am here to get away from them.”

  Seth laughed. “What do you say?”

  “I came up here to discover whether I had any reason to continue living. I’ve about decided I do, but not how. I’m not sure if I should continue teaching or find something new.” He shrugged. “If I had a clue as to what I want... Don’t tell anyone that.”

  “So you don’t feel pulled in a particular direction?”

  “Indeed not. When some big executive gets fired, don’t they tell the media they are exploring other options? I’ve often wondered what those options were.

  “You wouldn’t by any chance like a cup of coffee, would you? I haven’t had breakfast. I might make toast and jam if you’re interested.”

  “Of course I am.” Seth climbed out of his SUV and followed Stephen to his house.

  * * *

  SINCE THE RAIN continued to hold off, they took their coffee out onto the front porch after they finished three pieces of toast apiece. Seth seemed impressed with the imported orange marmalade that Stephen had brought with him from home.

  “Until fairly recently,” Stephen continued, “I wasn’t sure I had any options left. Except maybe to sit in a wheelchair and fight to remain sane. The doctors weren’t certain my leg would ever be able to hold me. Long-term planning becomes impossible. I avoided my friends and family. I do understand Barbara’s aversion to change. You decide that there is no such thing as a good change. Any change will result in more disaster. You fight for the status quo, as she is doing. But life can never be static. At some place in her psyche she understands that there is room for positive change. For hope of something better. Otherwise she wouldn’t fight so hard for her animals. She’d walk away and let them die.”

  “Oh, she’s a fighter for her animals, all right,” Seth said and set down his empty cup. “Not so much for herself.”

  “Obviously she trusts her skills as a veterinarian. I can’t see her second-guessing herself on that score. But she seems to want to keep the rest of her life in a state of suspended animation... Although, she is trying to hire people for the clinic,” Stephen said. “That’s change and growth of a sort. She hired Emma.”

  “So what else do you want her to do? Seems to me she’s doing fine.”

  Stephen subsided. He couldn’t put into words what he wanted. Maybe just trust that he wouldn’t mess up her life by becoming her friend.

  “I think we better show you some of those other options you were talking about, Stephen. Would you be interested in riding along with me to check deer stands?”

  “How much walking is involved?”

  “Not a whole lot. Deer are edge dwellers. They sleep in the woods, but they forage along the edges, where there is plenty of food.”

  “Ergo, deer stands are along the edges as well.”

  “Right. You do any hunting?”

  “Good heavens, no. When I was a kid my grandfather lived on a farm. He tried to indoctrinate me into the hunting culture, but I generally had my nose in a book. I enjoy target shooting, though I haven’t done it for a while, but actually aiming at a sentient creature and pulling the trigger? I might be able to do that if I was starving, or my children were starving. Otherwise, no. Intellectually, I know herds must be culled to avoid starvation for the remaining members, and I dearly love venison, but I want someone else to give it to me. That makes me a hypocrite.”

  “Not really. I gave up hunting years ago for much the same reasons as yours. As long as hunters follow the rules, which I am here to enforce, I don’t allow my personal preferences to get between me and my job. As you say, herds must be culled or they all starve. I’m more concerned about saving Barbara’s orphan fawns, whose mothers were either shot or hit by cars. They then grow up and become members of that herd that must be culled. So if you’re a hypocrite I guess that makes me a hypocrite, as well. Can’t help it. I’m not making war on God’s youngsters.”

  “Barbara’s fawns?”

  “Didn’t you meet the fawns in her barn when you delivered the eagle to her? She’s the go-to lady for raising orphan deer. She’s a licensed animal rehabilitator, including raptors, which is a higher category. That’s why she is allowed to keep Orville. She’s reared and released raptors before, but never, so far as I am aware, a bald eagle.”

  “We both want to get him into the air again, but she has no place to let him strengthen his wing and learn to fly. We need to solve that problem by getting her a flight cage, or she may decide to send him away to another facility. I am selfish enough to want him to stay where I can be part of his progress.”

  “The local rehabilitators need a flight cage and more room to set up and rehabilitate all the critters they rescue. Get Emma to tell you about how she and I met.” Seth set his empty coffee cup on the small iron table beside the stairs, thrust his hands into his pants pockets and narrowed his eyes at the encroaching dark clouds.

  “Over skunks, wasn’t it?” Stephen asked “That story made the rounds in Memphis along with the invitation to your wedding. Have you seen them since you released them?”

  “Haven’t looked. We took them far enough away that they can’t find their way back. We kept our interaction with them to a minimum to avoid running into them in the woods.”

  “Would they recognize you?”

  Seth shrugged. “Emma thinks they would. I disagree. We definitely want to avoid having one of our three skunks wander up to a stranger, looking for a handout.”

  “Would they use their scent glands on you?”

  “If we annoyed them, you bet. That’s what those glands are for,” Seth said.

  “I heard from Emma’s father that h
e got skunked.”

  “Poor David,” Seth chortled. “He smelled unholy awful. And he was simply trying to see what they looked like close up. They took exception to his being that near and wham-o. How do you know my father-in-law?”

  “Our daughters went to the same school, and Emma showed horses for a while, so we saw one another at horse shows. David’s wife, Andrea, was very supportive after my wife died. She warned me not to do anything substantive like selling our house and moving, for at least a year. I had no intention of doing that, then after my accident I spent more time in the hospital and rehab than I did at home. Having nothing change around me gave me a place of refuge when I did get to sleep in my—our—bed.

  “Andrea said I would know when it was time to move on. Coming up here may mean I am finally ready.

  “My daughters vacillate between wanting to preserve everything the way it was before Nina died and wanting me to ‘get on with it’ so they don’t have to worry about dear old Dad alone in that big house.”

  “What do you want?” Seth asked.

  “Damned if I know. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone and doing the same thing day after day with the same people. But as to specifics?” He spread his hands and shrugged. Into his mind came an echo of Barbara’s voice. She worked in blood and dirt, was always tired and frequently lost her battles against mortality, yet she managed to seem joyous. When was the last time he’d felt joy?

  That kiss had been joyful. That was why he wanted more of her company. More of her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “I HAVE TO get to work mapping deer stands,” Seth said. “I’ve enjoyed this. I’m often down this way or at home for lunch to check on Emma.” He reached into his wallet and handed Stephen a business card. “Here are all my numbers. I’ll keep an eye out for you on the road if you’ll check on Emma when she’s home. I know she’s fed up with being pregnant, but I worry about her having the baby prematurely and alone.”

  “As well you should. Thankfully both of mine came late. Nina was annoyed but agreed that late is better than early. I don’t know which days Emma works with Barbara.”