Veterinary Partner
Synopsis
Callie Anderson’s in over her head, but she’ll be damned if she’ll give up. A young widow with a ten-year-old daughter, Callie’s determined to keep her farm at any cost, even if that means going up against the Krugers from next door who are determined to snatch her land. Callie needs to learn how to take care of her cattle and undo all the problems the Krugers have caused before it’s too late, and there’s no one more qualified to help than veterinarian Dr. Lauren Cornish. If only Lauren understood that Callie’s still the one in charge.
Recently divorced and rejected by her teenage children, Lauren’s emotionally lost and has no patience for a woman who isn’t ready to be a farmer. She’s determined to keep her heart safe this time, no matter how intriguing Callie might be. When a string of perilous accidents threatens their safety and livelihood, neither can resist their heart’s desire. Danger is looming, but falling in love may be the scariest thing of all.
Veterinary Partner
Brought to you by
eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.
Veterinary Partner
© 2020 By Nancy Wheelton. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-667-4
This Electronic Original Is Published By
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: June 2020
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Victoria Villaseñor and Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Tammy Seidick
eBook Design By Toni Whitaker
Chapter One
Dr. Lauren Cornish slung her equipment into the back of her pickup truck and, without washing the blood and manure off her boots, jumped into the cab. She slammed the door and revved the engine. She wanted to roar down Callie’s driveway spitting gravel, but that would be unprofessional, and she would hear about it from her bosses. Instead, she squeezed the life out of her steering wheel, her fingers turning white. Deep breaths. That woman is frustrating. You only tried to help. A timid tap on her window caused her to jump in her seat. She straightened, and with one eyebrow raised studied tall, blond Callie Anderson.
Contrite blue eyes, brilliant in the first light of sunrise, regarded Lauren through the passenger window of the cab. Callie mouthed, “Please wait. I’m sorry.”
Lauren pried her hands off the steering wheel and rolled her shoulders. She’d been at Callie’s farm, Poplarcreek, for the last three hours and she was cold and tired. She climbed out and strode toward the back of her truck. She couldn’t show up at the next farm with dirty boots, however much she wanted to escape from Callie’s farm. But if Callie wasn’t going to listen to her, she’d just wash her boots and go. “Please excuse me, Mrs. Anderson. I thought my suggestions did not interest you. I was not aware you had questions. Sorry, please go ahead. I’m at your disposal.”
Lauren grabbed the hose attached to the twenty-gallon water tank in her truck and sprayed water into a red bucket, followed by disinfectant. She snatched a long-handled brush from her truck and washed the blood and manure off her boots.
Callie cleared her throat. “Thanks for your help this morning.”
While she scrubbed her boots, Lauren struggled to regain her composure, taking deep breaths.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Callie said. “So many people have been telling me I made a bunch of wrong decisions for the farm. People are trying to be helpful, I know, but sometimes it’s annoying.”
“Like me?” Lauren snorted and poured the dirty water on the ground. She fought the urge to dump the pail at Callie’s feet. Though it was tempting, she banished the childish impulse.
She tossed her empty pail and brush into the back of the Bowie unit housed in the bed of her silver four-door pickup truck. The Bowie had been expensive, but mobile veterinary units were a godsend, and it meant she didn’t have to ask Callie for water, since she had her own supply. She took another breath and swiveled to face her.
Callie raised her arms as if she might cross them over her chest but appeared to change her mind and let them drop instead. “I’m tired of being reminded I’m a novice. I agreed the heifer was too young to be calving, but why did you say it three times? Once was enough, and I didn’t appreciate being told it was inhumane. What’s done is done and I have to cope with it, as do my poor animals.”
Lauren pretended to rearrange the equipment in the back of her truck and tried to relax the muscles in her neck. “Don’t you pay your veterinarian for advice?”
“Advice and suggestions are great, but I’ve been up all night, and I resented the lecture.”
Lauren gripped the edge of the truck and hung her head. She had been lecturing, and Callie’s irritation was justified. “I was only trying to help.”
“It’s difficult to tell these days who is helping and who is judging, and I felt like a stupid little woman, again.”
Ouch. I was a patronizing jerk. Welcome back, Dr. Lauren Cornish, you snarky cow. “I’m sorry. Did I overstep?” Lauren turned to face Callie.
“Perhaps.”
“Who thinks you’re a little woman?” Lauren grinned, figuring Callie was at least three inches taller than her five seven. “Sorry. It’s a state of mind. I get it.”
Callie’s shoulders relaxed as the tension between her and Lauren dissipated. “You do understand.”
“I offered advice, but I should’ve worded it differently and I shouldn’t have stomped off when you told me to stop lecturing you. Sorry, again.” Lauren chuckled. “Wow, how many times have we said sorry? How Canadian of us.”
“I apologized to the barn door for hitting it with my elbow yesterday. How weird is that?” Callie smiled at Lauren for the first time all morning.
Callie’s smile made it to her eyes this time. Lauren swallowed, startled by the stab of attraction. Even in bulky insulated coveralls with more patches than a quilt, and an ugly orange wool cap, Callie was exquisite. Lauren shook her head. Those thoughts did not belong at work. “I guess that’s it for now.”
“Thanks. You know I’ll be calling if there’s another problem.” Callie gave a little wave and headed back to the barn.
Lauren watched Callie for a moment and then climbed into her truck. How could one beautiful woman unsettle her so much? Especially a woman who was too inexperienced to be in charge of animals. Callie was nice and all, but under her management, Poplarcreek was a disaster waiting to happen, and she wanted no part of that.
* * *
After finishing at Poplarcreek, Lauren drove home for a quick shower and hurried to the clinic. As the newest veterinarian at Prairie Veterinary Services, it was her job to check on the patients before morning appointments started. She arrived at PVS at eight thirty a.m. The harsh wind of a snowy Saskatchewan morning pushed at her as she struggled to close the back door.
PVS was a mixed animal veterinary practice in Thresherton, Saskatchewan, a one-hour drive southeast of Saskatoon. The clinic saw pet animals such as dogs, cats, birds, and small rodents. PVS had many large animal clients with pigs, cattle, sheep, horses, and
goats. The veterinarians drove to the farms when the large animals required treatment, but often farmers transported livestock to PVS for surgery.
Lauren dropped her coat and boots at her locker and slipped on the shoes she kept there. “Morning, Val. How’s Rufus today?”
“He’s brighter and ate his breakfast.” Valerie Connor, the head veterinary technician, stood beside Lauren and they studied the dog. “I was about to take him for a short walk.”
“Great.” Lauren placed her lunch in the staff room refrigerator, greeted Janice, the full-time receptionist, and scanned the waiting room for clients. PVS was a serviceable facility, but the walls of the waiting area were a dull gray. The sole attempt at decorating was the yellowing horse and dog prints her boss, Dr. Ian Wilson, had hung thirty years ago. PVS could use some redecorating. It didn’t have to look like a palace, but an updated appearance would bring in more small animal clients, and these days people expected a comfortable waiting room.
Lauren had built a small animal practice in Toronto, Ontario, with her ex-wife, Dr. Tanya Jenkins. She and T.J. had paid their professional decorator thousands of dollars. They had painted the walls in soft blue tones to accent the colorful paintings of pets. Cushioned chairs matched the walls and were organized around a coffee table with books on animals and leaflets on pet care. The built-in electric fireplace and a fish tank gave their waiting room the feel of a cozy living room.
PVS’s blandness didn’t mean the animals were any less cared for in Thresherton, but as the only veterinary practice within eighty kilometers, it could dispense with the glitz without losing customers. The PVS building began life as an automotive repair business and still had the wide-open cement feel of the shop. It couldn’t get much further from her past experience, and that was exactly what she needed. That said, it could still use a little updating.
Lauren strolled into the cavernous waiting area toward Val’s eight-year-old daughter. Gwendolyn sat on one of the plastic chairs in the row against the outer wall. The girl’s head was bent over her schoolbooks. “Morning, Gwen.”
Gwen raised her head and beamed at Lauren. “Hi, Lauren. Rufus ate his breakfast this morning. Mom and I came back before bed last night, but he wouldn’t eat canned food even when I fed him from my hand.”
Lauren dropped into a chair beside Gwen and slung an arm over her shoulders. Gwen was waiting for her grandfather to pick her up and drop her at school. Val was a single mom and started work at seven thirty a.m. Thresherton was a small, rural town of six thousand, and Gwen might have walked to school in the warmer weather. But today it was minus thirty degrees Celsius. Not exactly the kind of weather to skip to school in.
“Thanks for trying. The drugs we gave him yesterday upset his stomach, and he needed time to get his appetite back.”
“That’s what Mom said.”
“Have a good day at school.” Lauren dropped a kiss on the top of Gwen’s head and walked back to reception.
At one end of the waiting area, the receptionists sat at a long counter. Beside them, the cabinets housed the medical records of patients and clients. On the other side of reception there were individual doors leading to two exam rooms used for appointments with small animals. The exam rooms opened into the treatment room. Behind reception were the offices for veterinarians and the clinic office manager.
Lauren headed into her office to drop her briefcase and unpack the patient files she took home to review. She studied her reflection in the mirror behind her door. Her eyes looked tired and dull. T.J, at least at the beginning of their relationship, had described them as warm and animated. That was when she and T.J. had been young and full of excitement about the future. All Lauren did now was work to live and pay off student loans. No wonder her green eyes looked more like pond scum than spring grass.
Lauren sighed as she fought with her hair that had been sticking out at odd angles since she pulled her wool hat off. Perhaps I should have dried it after my shower? Lauren preferred her hair short and practical. When it was tidy, it was a flattering cut. It curled around her ears and onto her neck but stopped short of her shoulders. Too bad it was seldom tidy. Now she just tried to cultivate the messy look. Hair product was too fussy.
As per the schedule, Lauren started the day taking care of the small animals. She donned a fresh white lab coat and buttoned it closed. She smiled, pleased it was looser in the belly and tighter through the biceps. Regular trips to the gym and her hard, rewarding job at PVS had helped her shed forty pounds since she arrived in Thresherton eight months ago. She pinched the roll of fat at her waist. She still had weight to lose, but at one hundred and fifty pounds of muscle wrapped in softness, she was proud of how far she’d come.
Lauren headed into the treatment room. When Val returned with Rufus, Lauren lifted him onto the table and examined him. She gave him his medication and placed him in his kennel. Then she and Val looked after the other small animals in the clinic. When they were done, Lauren played with a litter of stray kittens. She had perfected the technique of cuddling two at a time and pretended the contact was to get the kittens used to people. A few minutes later, she returned the rowdy kittens to their kennel and headed to Ian’s office. She admired her boss, and her goal was to emulate him by getting fit, working hard, and being well-liked in the community.
“Morning, Ian, anything special for today?” Lauren asked. “We have a full schedule of annual dog and cat vaccinations. What’s happening on the large animal side?”
“Callie Anderson called. She has another dystocia in her Charolais heifers.”
“Another one? Already? I did a C-section for her this morning.” Charolais were a large breed of beef cow, and a dystocia, or difficult calving, was uncommon unless you had Callie’s luck.
“It’s not been an easy calving season for her.”
“Because she has twenty, sixteen-month-old heifers calving right now. It’s not too early for mature cows to be calving, but these are immature heifers. Practically babies. This spring is the earliest time to breed such young heifers for the first time. Why would she have bred them so young they’re calving in February?” Lauren was horrified by the stress on the young animals, but she was ranting and took a deep steadying breath.
“A valid point. And I have no idea.”
“When I asked her this morning, she yelled at me and accused me of lecturing her. I’m afraid my comments were pretty brusque. I thought she was going to cry when I’d finished. But I couldn’t help it. It’s irresponsible.” Fear of Callie’s weeping, not her angry words, had been Lauren’s cue to bolt from the barn. She had to leave before Callie’s tears slipped through the cracks in Lauren’s defenses and triggered her protective side. Then the instinct to look after Callie would follow, and she was determined not to go there again.
“Callie’s been raising her daughter alone since her wife died five years ago, and she’s been running the farm by herself since her father-in-law, Doug Anderson, died last year. Poplarcreek is a huge responsibility, and Doug didn’t teach her much about cattle before he died.”
“She’s gay? Did you know Callie’s wife?” Callie was beautiful and a lesbian and needed a ton of help. The best place for Lauren was far away from Poplarcreek.
“I’d known Liz since she was a kid. She joined the police department and was killed on the job. She was only thirty-five. Such a damn waste.”
“How horrible for them.”
“I’m keeping an eye on Callie and her daughter, Becky. Callie’s making mistakes, but she’s learning quickly. At least she has help in the house. Her older sister, Martha, is visiting from British Columbia. Anyway, I’ve done two C-sections and a calving there in the last week. I know you were just there, but it’s your turn again.” Ian scratched his chin. “While you’re there, check the new calves for scour and see if Callie understands how to take care of them. Just give her a hand, will you?”
“No problem.” Lauren left to change into coveralls and pack her gear. Ian’s daughter and busines
s partner, Dr. Fiona Wilson, would do the small animal appointments in the morning when Lauren left. Lauren’s job today was more handholding at Poplarcreek. She entered the pharmacy and collected antibiotics and electrolytes for Callie’s calves.
Val was tidying the pharmacy shelves and glanced over her shoulder at Lauren. “Heading out already?”
“Back to Poplarcreek.”
Val winced. “Poor Callie. Another C-section?”
“Hope not.” Lauren packed her gear. “Ian asked me to check on the calves. How will I explain to Callie, without upsetting her this time, that scour is dangerous in young calves because they could dehydrate and die? I didn’t realize how little she knows about cattle, and I need to teach her without lecturing. But it’s not my forte.”
“You can do it. Callie’s probably in over her head, but she’s tough. I think with enough time, she’s got a chance.”
Lauren seriously doubted it. “Callie needs more help with her cattle than the vet showing up every ten minutes. Why not hire somebody? Surely it would be cheaper than calling a veterinarian for every calving?” But then Callie wasn’t the most sensible of women and it was Lauren’s job to help clean up Callie’s mess.
Val laughed. “Why not ask her?”
Lauren gave a comical shudder. “And get my head bitten off again? Not a chance. Wish me luck with my new pupil.”
Val patted Lauren’s shoulder. “You’ll think of something, L.C.”
Val had become Lauren’s good friend, even though Val was eight years younger. They hung out at lunch and sometimes she agreed to have dinner at Val’s house with her and Gwen. In her Toronto veterinary clinic there had been a distinct social separation between veterinarians and staff. Nobody would have called her L.C., and there was little socializing beyond the obligatory Christmas dinner. She preferred the relaxed atmosphere at PVS, as long as everyone kept their distance and stayed in the colleague or friend zone.
Veterinary Partner Page 1
