by Alison Kent
“Tyler?”
“In a minute.” While he adjusted the drip of the IV and double checked the dog’s pulse, he cut an entreating gaze to Rico.
“C’mon, güerita. Let’s let Dr. Barnes do his thing in private.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Then I’m not leaving with you. But we’re gonna not leave back here out of the doctor’s way, okay?” Rico nudged her toward the door.
It was better than nothing. Tyler knew she wasn’t going to budge any farther. He rolled the examining table to the booth sectioned off at the back of the room and transferred Cowboy to the Xray surface.
While waiting for the film to develop, he moved the dog back to the treatment room and drew blood. Then he went to pull the Xray, snapped it into place on the viewing screen and swore.
“Tyler?”
“Not now, Sophie.” The rib cage was a mess. The chest cavity was full of free air. There was no way for the lungs to expand.
“I’ve got to get a chest drain in.” He turned from the viewing screen, looked from Rico to Sophie and back. “I could use some help with the IV and the bandaging.”
Rico stepped forward. “Hey, man. Whatever you need.”
“No.” Sophie walked to Tyler’s side. “I’ll do it.”
Her voice was steady and he had faith her hands would be, too. As long as he didn’t have to look at the silent tears running down her cheeks, they could do this.
He rummaged through the cabinets and found the instrument packs and the gauze and bandages he would need. Then while Rico stood by and watched, Tyler moved Cowboy into the surgery suite and showed Sophie what to do.
Tyler cut off the fluorescent overheads, leaving the under-the-counter lights burning low. Cowboy was resting quietly. He’d be due for another blood count soon but until then Tyler intended to catch a short nap.
He had to force Sophie to the door of the treatment room. “That’s all I can do for tonight.”
“I’m not leaving.”
That didn’t surprise him a bit. “Sophie, you’re tired. Let Rico drive you back to the cabin. I’ll get a room at Ford’s and come up and check on him every couple of hours.”
“Fine. You do that.” She crossed her arms over her chest “But I’m not leaving.”
“What good’s it going to do you or Cowboy for you to exhaust yourself?” And she was exhausted. Her hair stood on end. Tiny half-moons bracketed her mouth. Even the circles under her eyes were bruised.
She barely managed to shake her head. “He might need me. I have to be here if he needs me.”
He wanted to tell her that if Cowboy needed anyone during the night, he would need a doctor. But that wasn’t quite true. The emotional bond between animal and owner was often times as powerful as medicine.
“Okay, then. Come with me. I’ll get two rooms. You can ride over when I come back.”
“I can’t go off and leave him lying there, Tyler,” she said and silently walked back to the ICU pen where Cowboy rested. Her fingers closed around the wire mesh door. “He’s cold. And he’s alone. I know he can hear my voice. If he doesn’t make it,” she whispered, “if he… slips away during the night, I have to be here. He has to know that I loved him, and that I tried.”
Tyler closed his eyes and tried to numb his mind. He was a doctor; he had to be objective. But Sophie’s grief sliced him up, leaving his heart open, a raw, aching wound.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, needing her comfort but needing even more to offer the same. “C’mon. There’s a couch in the reception area. We’ll go sit out there for a while.”
He had to physically turn her around but finally, she went with him. They found Rico on the couch, sitting forward, his elbows braced on his knees, his hands knotted together between.
He looked up sharply when they entered the reception area. “Anything new?”
Tyler shook his head. “It’ll be touch and go for a while. The chest drain will need to stay in twenty-four to forty-eight hours. And I’ve gotta keep a close eye on his red blood count.”
Rico’s glance took in Sophie’s condition. His frown deepened. “But no bad news is good news right?”
Tyler rubbed a hand down his face. Why did this always have to be so hard? “Right.”
“I guess I’ll head out. Catch a bite to eat. Make sure the crew got loaded up. Check on that damn trailer…” He got to his feet, shoved a hand through his thick hair, blew out a long breath. “You gonna be okay, güerita?”
She nodded, wiped at her eyes and Tyler held her tighter.
Rico approached, standing as tall and as protective as Tyler. “I’m gonna wait and pull out tomorrow. I’ll talk to you in the morning and we’ll decide what to do, okay?”
She stepped from Tyler’s arms into Rico’s and hugged. “I’m not going without him,” she said, her voice muffled against Rico’s chest.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Rico said and returned her to Tyler.
“Thanks for your help.” Tyler offered the hand that wasn’t holding Sophie and Rico’s return grip was firm in its warning.
“I wouldn’t do it for just anyone, man.”
“I know. I’ll take care of her.”
Once Rico was gone, Tyler settled back in the corner of the vinyl cushions. He squirmed until the metal armrest wasn’t digging into his ribs, then reached for Sophie’s waist and tugged her down beside him.
She pulled up her knees and curled into his side, plucking at the three metal buttons on the placket of his navy T-shirt as if the tiny, repetitive motion kept her centered, held her together.
He brushed her hair back from her face, brushed aside his body’s reaction to her hands. When he thought of what was happening here, what she was going through, how she was seeking strength from him, his heart took off and the surge of protectiveness that welled inside stole the rest of his breath.
“You okay?” he managed to ask.
She gave a small laugh. “I don’t think I ever want to love anything again.”
He wasn’t quite sure—
“I mean, I know caring for a dog isn’t the same as caring for a person.” Her sigh was a deep shudder. “But I can’t imagine anything hurting the way this does.”
Oh, darlin’, you’re breaking my heart. He continued to stroke her hair from her face. “Cowboy’s your best friend. Of course, it’s going to hurt.”
“He is my friend, isn’t he?” She settled deeper into his side. “He’s the first animal I’ve owned, you know. When I was younger, I wanted a cat. I figured a cat would be perfect.”
“Why perfect?”
“A dog would be too noisy. My mother would hear it and that would be the end of that. I thought off and on about a turtle,” she said, sliding the buttons in and out of the holes. “A turtle would’ve been quiet but I didn’t think it would put up with a lot of cuddling.
“Besides,” she continued softly, “if something happened to me, I knew a cat would be independent enough to take care of itself.”
Tyler’s hand stopped mid-stroke. “Why did you think something would happen to you?”
“The odds mostly. Sooner or later a kid who roams the streets gets picked up or hit on. I saw it happen. A lot.”
“It didn’t scare you enough to keep you home?”
“Nothing was going to keep me home.” Her hand stilled on his button then crept up to his neck and held him tight. “But then, no one tried to keep me there.”
He waited for her to continue. She’d grown quiet as if she was thinking, and he waited. But she didn’t say more and her breathing steadied and grew deep.
Emotional exhaustion was a wringer. He hoped her sleep would be sound. She’d need the rest tomorrow when the real waiting began.
Or when the grieving began.
At this point he wasn’t placing bets.
EIGHT
Damn.
Cowboy’s red blood count was not looking good. Not good at all. Tyler had just run out o
f “wait and see” time. He was going to have to go in before the dog grew weaker and hope didn’t matter anymore.
It had been late when Sophie had fallen asleep. Miraculously, she hadn’t stirred since. Considering her life on the road, her ability to rest anywhere shouldn’t have surprised him.
What surprised him was that she’d been able to shut out the events of the evening long enough for her sleep mechanism to kick in and her subconscious to take over. The mind’s defense system was an amazing thing.
Not long after she’d drifted off, he’d eased out from under her and examined Cowboy, then catnapped as needed in Doc Harmon’s office chair, resetting his phone’s alarm every couple of hours, rechecking Cowboy’s blood count each time.
Standing in the treatment room listening to the dog breathe, Tyler glanced at the clock on the wall and weighed his options. Five o’clock. Doc Harmon wasn’t due in for at least four hours if he came in at all before rounds.
His receptionist, Annette, doubled as a technician and usually opened the clinic around eight-thirty. Tyler knew she’d assisted the doctor in surgery. But he didn’t want to wait the forty minutes or more it would take her to make the drive in from the northernmost corner of the county.
He didn’t have a problem going in alone but as weak as the dog was, he preferred to have an assistant watch the monitors.
When he heard a heavy truck roll past the back door, he thought he might have found his man.
Stepping out into the predawn gloom, Tyler watched while Rico pulled DayLine’s one-ton pickup to a stop in front of the new hospital. The big Latino cut the engine, easily stepped down from the high cab, and slammed the door.
At seeing Tyler, Rico lifted his chin in greeting. “How’s Sophie?”
Tyler motioned toward the clinic with a turn of his head. “Still asleep.”
Rico nodded. “And the dog?”
“So-so.” He sighed, rubbed at the base of his neck. “I’ve gotta go in. You up to assisting?”
Rico took a minute to think, then made a disgusted face and said, “As long as I don’t have to see blood or touch guts.”
Tyler grinned. “I’ll handle the blood and guts. I just need you to watch the heart monitor. Check his gums once in a while and make sure they stay pinked up.”
“Sounds clean enough.”
“I’d like to get it done before Sophie wakes up. I’d like to be able to give her a little good news.”
Rico’s long, quiet stride brought him closer. He lowered his voice. “Dios. So it’s not so good right now?”
“It could be a lot better.”
He blew out a low whistle, shook his head. “That dog is all she’s got, man. This father thing… I’ve got my own theories about how that’s gonna turn out. But I know exactly what’s gonna happen if Sophie loses that dog.”
As interested as he was in Rico’s theories, Tyler didn’t have time. “Which is why I’m gonna do the Super Vet thing and make sure she doesn’t.”
Rico took a long moment to consider Tyler’s expression. His eyes narrowed. “Then these hours you’re keeping here aren’t just for the dog?”
Tyler lifted a shoulder, wondering why weighty admissions seemed easy to make in the dark. And why he wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable admitting it to this man. “What can I say?”
Rico moved forward, met Tyler eye-to-eye. “You can say you care about her, man.”
“I can do better than that.”
“Bueno. Muy bueno,” he said, clamping his hand down on Tyler’s shoulder in friendly counsel. “Then I won’t worry so much about her staying behind.”
“You don’t have to worry at all,” Tyler said, meeting the Latino’s challenge head-on.
Rico’s face broke into a huge grin. “Ah, glad to hear it, mi amigo. Now that that’s settled, why don’t we quit wasting time?”
The treatment room and surgery suite smelled of disinfectant and a bitter-tasting mixture of fluids and drugs. The odors weren’t a big deal to Tyler but figuring Rico and Sophie might think the place smelled like a morgue, he pushed the exhaust vent wide open then turned back to the task at hand.
When he looked up from adjusting Cowboy’s IV, he found Sophie standing in the doorway, her clothes wrinkled, her hair a ragged mess. But her physical appearance registered only peripherally.
What registered was the way she scrunched her nose and squinted against the stinging smells, the way bewilderment settled in and then fear, the way her eyes suddenly widened and tears fell and she pressed her fingers to her mouth to hold back the sobs.
Aw, hell. He shook his head but before he could get out a reassuring word, Rico grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands, turned from the sink, and caught sight of her.
“C’mon, güerita. No need for those big sad eyes. The doc’s been in here working magic.”
Tyler closed the door to the ICU pen, crossed the room, and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “He had a ruptured spleen. I’ve given him a transfusion to replace the blood he lost. As long as the chest drain does its thing, his lungs and ribs heal up, and infection doesn’t set in, he should be fine.”
She closed her eyes and sagged against him. “Are you sure?”
He had to be honest because false hope was no hope at all. “As sure as I can be about anything at this stage of the game.”
She crossed the room to the ICU pen, ran a palm down the cage door, then slipped two fingers through the wire mesh and slowly stroked Cowboy’s ear. The dog lifted his tail in one weak wag and Sophie smiled through her tears. She leaned down and spoke to him quietly, then stood and tucked her hands into her front pockets.
Tyler followed slowly and stood off to the side, watching as her gaze roamed over her dog, listening as her breathing settled into the same pattern as Cowboy’s, sensing as much as seeing the slow crawl of relief into her features.
His gut knotted. He hadn’t even been close in his estimation of what this dog meant to her. Of the responsibility he’d taken on. Of how much trust Sophie had placed in his hands. Aw, hell.
Turning at an angle to the pen, she blinked to clear the moisture from her eyes and looked first at him then at Rico as if they were the two most important men in her life. “Thank you.”
Then she hiccupped. The hiccup turned into a laugh. Then a giggle. And when a silly grin spread over her face, it was all Tyler could do to keep his hands to himself.
“Can we go get some breakfast?” Her grin widened. “I’m starving.”
She had to be one of a kind. And it was a damn good thing she was going to be his. “Sounds good to me. As long as we can get it to go. I’m feeling a little bit skanky right now.”
She frowned as if finally noticing the splotches staining his jeans and the front of his long-sleeved pullover T-shirt. “You look like you just saved my dog’s life. And mine. So, I’m buying. And no arguments from either of you.”
Rico glanced at Tyler. His expression resembled one of gastric pain. “You know what she eats.”
“Yeah.” Tyler cut her a private glance. “I know what she eats.”
“C’mon, guys,” she pleaded. “This is a special occasion. I want pancakes drizzled with butter and syrup.”
Rico laughed. “You two go ahead. I’ve got to check on the crew.” He sobered. “We’re pulling out, Sophie.”
Her smile faded as she hunched her shoulders forward protectively. “You know I can’t go.”
“I know. I’ll get in touch with you through the doc, say, in a week or so. See how things are looking here. I’ll get the home office to send me a replacement but I want you back, güerita, you hear me?”
“I’ll be back, Rico.”
Not if he had anything to say about it, Tyler thought as he moved into the surgery suite to cut off the lights. This wasn’t the time or place to insist that she wasn’t going anywhere, especially as prickly as she got about rights and wrongs.
He stepped back into the treatment room in time to see her give Rico a goodbye hug and toss
a playful punch at the Latino’s huge biceps.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” she said, then amended, “well, at least most of you guys.”
Rico headed toward the rear exit, slapping Tyler on the back as he passed. “Take care of my girl, man.”
“I’ll take care of her. And thanks.”
Rico winked and left. Sophie pulled Tyler in the opposite direction, across the treatment room and into the reception area where she impatiently shuffled from foot to foot while he called in their breakfast order to Ford’s.
Once he locked up the clinic and they reached the truck, he opened the driver’s side door. Sophie clambered up inside and nearly bounced off the ceiling. She even patted the seat in a “hurry up” motion.
Tyler rolled his eyes and climbed in beside her. This adrenaline rush was out of control and she was gonna be feeling it soon. He needed to get her fed and get her home before she crashed.
He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Ford’s Diner. “What’s the rush?”
“I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I’m starving. And I want to hurry so I can get back to Cowboy.”
“Sounds like critical hunger to me. There’s a couple dozen cookies there on the seat beside you if you’re desperate.”
“Cookies?” She cast a quick glance at the plastic container then cut her gaze back to him. “A little stash of home cooking for later?”
“What can I say?”
“You can say we’re almost there.”
“Almost,” he said, adding as the diner came into view. “I’ll go in and pick up the food but after that, we’re both going home.” He pulled into Ford’s parking lot, put the truck in Park, got out, and looked back. “Now don’t be doing that lip thing, Sophie North. I haven’t slept. I need a shower. And Doc Harmon’s on his way in.”
“But I can’t. Something might happen.”
“And if something happens, the doc will know what to do. He’s been taking care of Brodie County’s animals longer than you or I have been alive. And unlike me he’s not real fond of hovering owners.
“Besides,” he said, backing away from the open door and Sophie’s growing exasperation, “once you get a bellyful of pancakes, I want you rested up because we’ve got a party tonight.”
