But as it turned out, she didn’t have to call Ethan. Colt offered to do it, and she was just coward enough to take him up on the offer. But when her brother called her back a short while later, she wasn’t so happy with his news.
“He’s flying out.”
“But he doesn’t need to.”
“I don’t think he cares,” said her brother. “He’s doing it anyway.”
* * *
HE COULDN’T GET there fast enough. When Colt had called and told him the news he hadn’t hesitated. He’d hung up, called airlines and paid the astronomical price to get there the next day. Thor needed him, and his new boss understood.
Still, it felt like a week later though, in fact, it was less than twenty-four hours when he pulled to a stop next to Claire’s van. She wasn’t in her house. She was out in the kennel with Thor and his heart stopped when he saw the dog lying outside. Surely he’d seen him drive up. Granted, he wouldn’t recognize his rental car, but when he stepped out of the vehicle, he would know.
The dog didn’t move.
His heart dropped. His eyes fell upon Claire next. She tried to smile. Even from a distance he spotted the attempt, and it killed him to see her there, clearly upset, clearly wanting to ease his fears, unable to do so.
“Mariah looked at him yesterday,” she said, the moment he entered the kennel, and it was all he could do not to go to her and put his arms around her. She didn’t want him. Fine. He could keep his distance. “She said just to wait and see, and she’s the best veterinarian I know, so I trust her.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know Thor like I do.”
He had her on that point and she knew it because she didn’t protest when he knelt down next to his dog. Thor hardly lifted his head.
“Hey, buddy.”
Only when he touched him did he perk up. He looked into Thor’s eyes and saw the recognition dawn. His black tail began to thump, but there was no effusive greeting, no open mouth smile, no pricked ears. Thor just stared and in that gaze he caught a look...
His heart stopped.
It was a nearly human plea for help. “He’s sick.”
“I know, but he doesn’t have a fever, and his blood work came back fine. Mariah ruled out a virus and she said his white cell count looked fine so she’s not thinking cancer. He’s just...listless.”
He instantly went to work, opening Thor’s mouth. Gum color good. No extra saliva indicating his stomach might hurt. No abscessed teeth.
“Do you have a thermometer?”
“He doesn’t have a fever.”
“Not yet, but I’m betting he will sooner or later.”
Green eyes held his gaze and he marveled at their beauty. It might have been only a few days, but it was as if he’d never seen her before. Black hair. Soft red lips. Honey and vanilla.
Claire.
“I’ll go get it.”
He nodded, though his hands had started to shake, but it wasn’t because of anxiety. It was being around Claire, he suddenly realized. She was it. His soul mate. And he just then realized it.
“It’s okay,” he told Thor, although he spoke more to himself than to the dog. He would fix Thor up, and then head back to Montana because that’s what she wanted.
“Here,” she said, handing him a plastic tube that contained a canine thermometer. She helped to hold the dog while he checked to see if he had a fever. When he read the digital readout, he thought he’d misread it.
One hundred and four degrees.
Shit.
“What does it say?”
He showed her the thermometer. “Shit,” she echoed his thoughts.
“I’m going to need access to an X-ray and an ultrasound. Whatever’s causing his infection might show up now on a scan.”
“Mariah told me to bring him back today. Let’s just go.”
“Where’s Adam?” he asked as he scooped Thor up, the big dog heavy in his arms, but he didn’t care.
“At Colt’s.”
Good, one less thing to worry about. He glanced down at Thor. The fact that the dog didn’t struggle was another indicator of just how sick he was. He didn’t feel well enough to move and so he instantly relaxed in his arms.
That was the moment Ethan felt the first twinge of panic.
He’ll be okay.
He tried to convince himself. Usually he was the optimist. He really had meant it when he’d told Claire to stop fearing the worst, but that was before she’d sent him away, so he was running a little low on optimism right now, and Thor only added to the mix.
They arrived at the clinic in record time, mostly because Claire drove like a crazy woman. She’d had him call to warn her friend they were on their way, so when they pulled up to the back door of a single-story wood building, it instantly opened, and a woman with a mass of red hair greeted him.
“You must be Dr. McCall.”
He recognized the woman’s voice from the phone. “And you must be Dr. Johnson.”
“I am.” She was so pregnant her lab coat didn’t cover her bump. “I’d say it was a pleasure. But it’s not a pleasure to meet under these circumstances.” She waddled to the back of the van.
“No. It’s not.”
They worked in tandem, though Ethan did all the lifting. He liked that they seemed to read each other’s minds when it came to diagnosing the dog. Together they went through the necessary steps to figure out what was wrong.
They came up empty.
“It’s not cancer,” Mariah said after looking at his blood work for the tenth time. Claire just stood back and watched and it occurred to him that she had a lot of experience with that. How many times had she done the same thing, first for her husband and then for her son?
“At least I don’t see anything to indicate that,” Mariah added.
He’d scanned the same test results and came up with the same answer. No cancer indicators. Not a virus. Definitely an infection of some sort, they just couldn’t find it. Short of opening him up and doing exploratory surgery there was nothing they could do. They would have to wait to see if the infection that clearly wreaked havoc on his body would eventually show itself. Could be a tiny stone in his kidneys, or a foreign body, or a staph infection. Lord knew what it could be, just that Thor was sick and growing more ill by the moment.
“We can keep him in the back,” Mariah told him.
They’d given Thor a sedative, not that he needed it. It just made things easier when dealing with X-rays and scans.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said once they settled Thor into an oversize crate.
“What are you sorry for?” he asked, stepping back.
“This happened on my watch.”
“And you noticed he was off before whatever this is manifested itself into a fever.”
“Actually, it was Adam who noticed he hadn’t finished his food.”
“And you didn’t just dismiss it as an upset stomach.”
Lord, it was hard not to pull her into his arms. He wanted to console her so badly it was a physical ache. Any doubt that he wasn’t in love with her had disappeared the moment he’d spotted her kneeling by his dog’s side. If anything, time away had made him love her all the more. She just didn’t love him, though. Would never love him. The words still stung to the point that he had to look away.
“Did you need me to stay?” she asked.
“No,” he said sharply. Too sharply. He looked up, spotted the hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry. Just worried about Thor.”
“I understand.”
Yes, she did. If anyone understood what it was like to fear for something you loved, she did.
“I’ve got it from here. You can get back to Adam.”
“Actually, Colt is watching Adam and he’ll be just fine there. I don’
t want to leave, either.”
“It may be hours before we know anything. At this point it’s just a waiting game.”
“I’m good at waiting.”
He would bet that was true, too, and it broke his heart all over again.
“I just don’t understand,” he heard her say. “He’s been doing so well. I’ve been taking him for walks out behind Colt’s property and he loves it. His favorite game is to play hide-and-seek in the weeds.”
He could picture Thor doing that. Could imagine him crouching down behind—
He jerked upright. “Wait. You’ve been walking him where?”
“Out behind Colt’s property. We follow the creek, and then I turn back and we walk across the big pasture.”
“Son of a—”
“What?”
“There are foxtails out in that pasture. I saw them that day I walked with you.”
“I know, but they’re everywhere, and animals usually sneeze like crazy when that happens.”
“Sometimes. Sometimes not. And it’s not something we’ve checked for.”
He saw recognition dawn. “Then we probably should.”
They found Mariah in the back room washing blood off her hand.
“I hate small animals,” Mariah said, showing them a dog bite. Or maybe a cat bite. “What’s up? You two look anxious. Thor okay?”
“Foxtail,” was all Ethan said.
She lifted a brow. “I checked him for that when he came in.”
“In his throat or in his nose?”
“Just his nose.” She shook her head. “To tell you the truth I ruled it out pretty quickly because he wasn’t sneezing or coughing or gagging.”
“Yeah, but I’ve seen shrapnel get stuck in some pretty crazy places. No symptoms other than they get sick as the foreign body becomes infected, kind of like what we’re dealing with now.” He turned to Claire. “Colt said on the phone he coughed a little the other day.”
“He did.” And her spirits sank. “When we were out on that walk.”
He turned back to Mariah. “Do you have an esophagoscope?”
“Of course.”
“Mind if I use it?”
“No. Of course not.”
Mariah bandaged her finger—compliments of a cat, she explained—while her assistant, a girl named Alyssa, helped them set up. It didn’t take long, but it did mean putting Thor under general anesthesia, which meant waiting for the muscle relaxant they’d given him to wear off. As the minutes ticked by and Ethan had to wait, he became more and more convinced of his diagnosis. It all fit. The brief coughing spasm. Foxtails, especially the small ones, could act like darts. They could lodge themselves into the wall of an esophagus like a thumbtack. It would hurt to swallow, which would put Thor off his food. Depending on where it was lodged, he wouldn’t cough anymore, either, just be in pain. Then the infection would set in...
“It’ll be okay.” Claire touched his arm. “He’s in good hands between you and Mariah.”
It was just a dog, he reminded himself, but caring for that dog, trying to fix him up—it brought it all back. His time in the field. Watching dog after dog fight for their life. The chaos and madness and sadness of practicing medicine on animals that were soldiers, most of them wounded in the field. No wonder he didn’t want to go back into practice. He didn’t like the memories that came along with doing what he used to do. Much easier to focus on breeding dogs. And training dogs. That way he didn’t have to remember, or be reminded.
Claire moved. He barely noticed. She tried to slip her arms beneath his own. He didn’t want her to touch him. It was hell to want her and know that she didn’t want him back.
She had told him she could never love another man the way she had loved Marcus. Her words still cut with the sting of a razor. But somehow she wiggled her way through, and he couldn’t stop from holding her back. It felt good. So damn good. She was his anchor. The one thing on Earth that kept him sane. The cement that kept his feet on the ground. The one thing that could always soothe his anxious mind.
“We should be good to—” Mariah drew up short when she spotted Claire in his arms.
He pushed her away, and it was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter Twenty
He’d pushed her away.
Claire told herself that she deserved it. She was the one who’d broken things off with him. Who’d hurt him. Who continued to hurt him because it was clear he still had feelings for her. She just hoped they could still be friends.
He’s way more than a friend.
She shut the door on the thought. She knew what she felt for him, and it wasn’t love. It couldn’t be love. She didn’t have the heart to love someone again.
“Ready?” she heard Mariah ask.
Somehow they’d prepped Thor without her noticing. The dog lay sprawled on a stainless steel table, prone, the IV still attached to his leg. She forced herself to focus. She wanted to help, although between Mariah and Ethan and no less than two veterinary technicians, she felt like a third wheel. No. A fifth wheel.
“Here we go,” Ethan said, inserting the scope down Thor’s throat. The video screen filled with an image that looked like the inside of a giant, pink worm. The opening was wide at first and then narrower and narrower until all that she could see was the pink and the white. He fished the probe down slowly, and Claire knew both he and Mariah were scanning the digital screen for signs of anything out of place. As it turned out, they needn’t have worried because the brushy tip of a foxtail was obvious even to her.
“Look at that,” Mariah said in relief.
Ethan just nodded. “The wound is infected, too. Been bleeding into his stomach.”
“No wonder he isn’t interested in eating,” Mariah said. “He’s had a stomach full of yuck. Not to mention, that has to hurt.”
“Can you pull it out?” Claire asked.
“I’m going to try.” Ethan straightened. “Unless you’d like to do it,” he said to Mariah.
Mariah leaned back, patting her belly. “Are you kidding? I don’t think I could get close enough to the table to do a good enough job.”
That wasn’t true, but it was clear Mariah had complete confidence in Ethan. And why wouldn’t she? He’d been a veterinarian on the front lines. Emergency situations were nothing new to him. She could tell by the way he handled himself.
“Okay, let’s do it, then.”
“You’ll need to get hold of it by the bottom,” Mariah said, a frown on her face as she watched. “Those things are notorious for coming out in pieces.”
“I know.”
He moved the probe this way and that by twisting it around. He got the thing a little closer to the base of the foxtail, the resolution on the screen refreshing and instantly changing so that the image was sharper.
“That’s amazing.” She’d never watched a vet use a probe before and she was fascinated by Ethan’s expertise. In a matter of minutes he had the thing where he wanted, squeezed on something on his end, the tiny ends closing, Ethan pulling back...
Out it popped.
There were audible sighs all around. Claire resisted the urge to shout. If Ethan hadn’t been able to remove the thing it would have meant surgery and that added a layer of risk that a sick dog didn’t need.
“Thank goodness,” Mariah said with a wide smile.
He placed the seed pod in his hand. Such an innocuous weed, yet so deadly.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“What are you sorry for?” Mariah asked.
“I was the one taking him on walks.” To think about Ethan. To try to understand why she felt so empty inside. “I heard him cough. I should have kept a closer eye on him.”
Mariah moved to her side.
“You had no way of knowing what happened. Most dogs inhale these things through their nose. It’s crazy that it went down his throat, but it’s good. Much easier to fix.” She patted her on the back. “You are not to blame.”
“We’ll need to monitor him,” Ethan said. “I don’t like how infected the area looked.”
“We can keep him overnight,” Mariah said.
“I would appreciate that.”
“I’ll call Colt and ask if you can stay there again,” Claire offered.
“No. That’s okay. I can stay in a hotel.”
She had no reason to feel hurt, no reason at all, but she did. “You don’t have to do that.”
No. But he would, because breaking up with her had hurt and she could see the lingering evidence of that hurt in his eyes.
“Well, okay,” Mariah said, clearly sensing the tension in the air. “I’ll have my receptionist make some calls for you, then. There’s a few hotels nearby.”
He held her gaze for a split second longer, and in his eyes she spotted anger and sadness and a plea for something. Then he tore his gaze away and looked at Mariah. “I’d appreciate that.”
She found herself backing away from him.
“Do you mind bringing Thor out of anesthesia?” Mariah asked. “I have a patient to see in the front.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“I think I’m going to leave.”
They both turned to look at her, Mariah’s expression turning to one of concern. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she said with a mouth so dry it was like swallowing the Southern California desert.
“You look a little sick,” Mariah observed.
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Just going to head on out of here so I’m not in the way.”
And so I can’t see the sadness in Ethan’s eyes. Sadness and regret. Love and understanding. Desire and regret. And she felt it, too.
She turned away from her friend so quickly she almost slipped on the tile floor. She ran toward the back door without another word. When she burst outside, she sucked in a breath because she couldn’t breathe all of a sudden.
His Rodeo Sweetheart Page 17
