Veterinary Partner

by Nancy Wheelton

  “With Mama you laughed and smiled. When Mama died, you cried all the time and were no fun. Sometimes Grandma Wilkins had to make you eat.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Then we moved to Saskatchewan and lived with Grandpa Anderson and you were fun again. We painted my room, went on hikes to the creek, and you taught me to play basketball. Then Grandpa died, and you cried again and didn’t see me anymore.”

  “Oh, Becky, honey, I’m sorry.” Callie grappled for words to reassure her. Becky’s words stunned her. Had she been so blinded by grief she’d left her daughter alone in hers? “I was hurting and missing Grandpa and Mama. Just like you. I let myself get overwhelmed by that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you and you’re the one thing that’s always perfect in my life.”

  “When Lauren’s here, you’re happy.” Becky glanced at Callie. “You sing and dance in the kitchen. You’re dressing all pretty when you go to town. Lauren makes you happy. I don’t.” Becky spoke with a strangled cry as if she was tearing apart. “And Lauren was nice. She showed me how a calf was born and let me hold the kittens, but now she doesn’t see me either. And I know she didn’t want to help me with my project.”

  “Lauren likes you too. But sometimes she’s confused, like when you can’t decide if you want a Popsicle or ice cream.” Okay, it was more serious than that, but how could she explain what she didn’t understand? “Just because you pick a Popsicle, doesn’t mean you don’t like ice cream.” She wanted to knock her head against the wall. She usually had no trouble communicating with Becky.

  “Mommy, I don’t understand. Am I ice cream or a Popsicle?”

  “I’m just saying that Lauren likes you. Even if she sometimes acts funny, it’s not because she doesn’t like you.”

  Becky shrugged. “So, Lauren’s mixed up?”

  “Exactly.” Callie wanted to cry with relief. Becky had summed them up in four words. “She’s mixed up about her life. What she wants and what to do. And I’m mixed up, too. You’re fine. You’re awesome.”

  “Can I stay?” Becky asked in a small voice.

  Callie hauled Becky off the chair and into her lap. She wrapped Becky in her arms and held her tight. They cried together as Callie rocked her. “Oh, Becky, I love you. You’re my daughter and I want you with me always.”

  Later, Callie sat in her living room with her head cradled in her hands. Too upset to eat dinner, Becky had gone to bed. It took an hour of Callie reading to her before Becky fell asleep. Constant reassuring had only taken the edge off her anxiety. If her relationship with Lauren harmed Becky it was doomed. Her heart squeezed in pain at the thought of losing Lauren, but Becky was her priority. And clearly, she needed to show her just how important she was to her. She’d promised herself a relationship wouldn’t get in her way, and she’d allowed what she had with Lauren to do just that.

  It was time to step back and get the three of them on even footing. Her attraction to Lauren was strong, but it was a chemical thing and she would tamp it down. They had become friends and that was good enough. She’d not let it go further again. Especially not if it caused them all pain.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The day after her argument with Callie, Lauren shuffled through the clinic in a daze. She did her job but had no energy for small talk with clients or the endless chatting with the staff. When she could, she escaped into her office and hid. She only emerged to see patients.

  As Lauren placed a cat in its cage, Val approached her. “Are you coming to my party this weekend?”

  Lauren shrugged. “Sure, thanks.”

  “I invited Callie.”

  Lauren whirled. “Oh no. Why did you do that? We had a fight yesterday. Tell her not to come.”

  Val winced. “I didn’t realize you two were on the outs. You didn’t tell me.”

  “Now you know.” She was being petulant but didn’t care.

  “I can’t uninvite Callie. That would be rude and mean. If you have a problem being near her, stay home.” Val smiled. “Besides, I like Callie. I want her to come to my party.”

  Lauren’s face flushed with anger. “What do you mean?”

  “Hold your horses there, L.C. I’ve got Christine.” Val put her hands up with palms out and stepped back. “Gwen and Becky are friends and that’s thrown Callie and me together. I’m not after Callie, but I guarantee others in the community will pursue her if you’re out of the picture.”

  Lauren’s fists balled at her sides. “Who?”

  “Suzanne Mitchell, for one. You know, Mitch the super cop. She’s been a friend of Callie’s and Becky’s since they all lived in British Columbia.”

  “Yeah, I’ve met Mitch. You ever date her?”

  “No way. She towers over me. My face is level with her boobs.” Val laughed. “I like butch, but she’s too intense. Also, she doesn’t like to dance, and I do.”

  Lauren’s shoulders drooped as she changed from angry to despondent. She felt as if she was drowning and land was out of reach. “I’ve met Mitch. Do you think Callie prefers ultra butches with flat stomachs?” Lauren straightened her top and splayed her fingers over her soft middle. “Yeah, probably.”

  Val’s expression was sympathetic. “Are you comparing yourself to Mitch or Liz?”

  “Both.” Fear sabotaged Lauren’s resolve and crushed her confidence.

  “What are you afraid of?” Val asked.

  “I wish I knew. I’m all twisted in knots. Is it possible to be afraid of being happy?”

  “Is it Becky?”

  Lauren sighed. “Imagine if Gwen told you to go away, forever. Imagine how devastating that would feel.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Are you talking about Callie, Sam, Becky, or Gwen? Have you considered discussing your situation with a therapist? I’ll give you the phone number of mine. I spent hours talking to her when my ex-girlfriend dumped me and moved to Vancouver.” Val scribbled a number down and handed the scrap of paper to Lauren. “Call her.”

  Lauren shuffled her feet. “I can handle it on my own.”

  “You only think you can. If you blow it with Callie because you’re scared of whatever, then you’re not handling it.” Val put air quotes around the last two words.

  “I’ll think about it. Maybe you’re right. I’ve been pretty out of it today, I’m sorry.” Val was right. Lauren was messing up everywhere. Her new start here was turning into a muddy pool.

  Lauren looked up and frowned at Janice’s smirking face.

  Janice leaned against the doorjamb. “Poplarcreek is calling for help, again. That woman must have PVS on speed dial.” Janice snickered. “Surprise, surprise. She’s having another calving problem.”

  “Can’t Ian or Fiona go?” Val asked.

  “Nope. I sent Ian to Kruger Farm and Fiona to Starview.”

  Janice walked away before Lauren could respond. “How much do you think she heard?”

  “Nothing,” Val said.

  “What if she tells people I’m chasing a client or behaving unprofessionally? What if clients don’t want to see me anymore? They could insist on seeing only Ian or Fiona. I’d have to move again. I’ve worked so hard to build a good reputation in Thresherton. I need this job and my career.” Some days it felt like PVS was the only solid, reliable thing she had left. As if she were clinging to the edge of precipice and being a veterinarian was the rope that kept her from falling. It was irrelevant that she’d considered moving only the day before. She didn’t want to have to.

  “Whoa, L.C. Don’t panic.” Val tapped the paper with the phone number that was clutched in Lauren’s hand. “Therapist. Call her. Today.”

  Lauren nodded, but right now her problems didn’t matter. The animals needed help. Lauren changed her clothes, fetched her kits, and trudged to her truck. She yanked the door open, tossed her kits in the back, and climbed inside. Her hands trembled on the steering wheel.

  Thirty minutes later, Lauren arrived at Poplarcreek. “Hello, Mrs. Anderson. How are you doing today? Be
autiful sunny weather.”

  Callie crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip. “What’s this, Lauren? Why the stupid perky voice and the Mrs. Anderson shit?”

  “What’s wrong with the way I’m talking?” Lauren attempted to sound neutral as she busied herself with her equipment to avoid eye contact.

  “You’re being phony, and it doesn’t suit you.”

  Lauren shrugged. “What do you mean? I’m being professional and detached.”

  “Detached? Is that how you want it?” Callie’s voice caught as she spoke.

  Arms loose at her sides and palms out, Lauren faced Callie. “I don’t know what to do or what to say. Every time I open my mouth, I say something wrong.” When they had fought, Callie had summarized what they had as “a few dates and some fooling around.” Now Callie was criticizing her for being detached. Which was it?

  Callie glared at Lauren for a few seconds. “You’re right. Forget it. Let’s start over. Welcome to my farm, Dr. Cornish. Lovely weather we’re having, but still cool. Please, follow me to the barn, to help my heifer, her—” Callie sighed, her eyes closed.

  Lauren longed to wipe the pain from Callie’s expression. But that wouldn’t help them move forward. “Pardon? I couldn’t hear your last sentence. What’s been happening?”

  Callie studied Lauren and spoke louder than necessary. “Her calf is stuck, and I can’t fix it.” After her outburst, Callie dropped her face into her hands. When Lauren tentatively touched Callie’s shoulder, she shrugged her off. Callie wiped her eyes on her sleeve and stalked toward the barn.

  Lauren followed, shaking her head. “Messed up again,” she muttered.

  In the barn, Callie fetched the light, rope and buckets of water while Lauren organized her equipment. “What’s been happening? What have you tried?”

  “Well, Dr. Cornish, I found two legs, but no head and I can’t pull it out.”

  Callie’s sharp tone sliced through Lauren and she winced. “Back legs?”

  “No, both front. Forget the lesson. Just pull the calf out and go away.” Callie stormed from the barn.

  The heifer was lying in the straw. Lauren washed her hands, slid on an OB glove, and reached inside the heifer. Callie was right, it was two front legs and one calf, but its nose had caught on the pelvis. Lauren’s blood pressure shot up a notch. After a struggle, she slipped the head into position. Lauren grasped the calf’s front feet and heaved, but it didn’t come. She searched for Callie to help, but she was gone. Lauren ran to her truck and fetched the calving jack. This was the reason it was a mistake to become involved with clients. With anyone, really. Lauren assembled her calving jack while she muttered to herself.

  “What’s that?”

  Lauren glimpsed Callie hovering over her. “A calving jack, or calf jack. A tool to help pull out a big calf when you’re alone.”

  “Oh?” Curiosity crept into Callie’s voice.

  Lauren worked fast and described what she was doing, more out of habit than because she wanted any conversation. “The jack has a U-shaped piece attached on the end of a long metal pole, with a winch on the pole. First, I loop the chains on its legs.” Lauren slipped the chains into place. “The trick is to put the U-shaped end around the back end of the cow.” She demonstrated. “Then attach the calving chains to the winch and winch the calf out by pumping this handle.”

  Callie hovered above Lauren. “As easy as that?”

  “Sometimes I have to winch quickly to get the calf out fast. Today is one of those days. This calf is in distress.” Lauren winched, pumping as fast as she could. “In a normal birth, when the cow pushes, I winch. When she stops, I stop. That keeps the calving more natural and reduces the risk of damage to the cow and calf.”

  After a minute, the calf slid onto the straw with a whoosh. Lauren examined it and removed the chains. She shook her head and sat back on her heels. Instead of white or beige, its fur was stained yellow. “Damn.”

  Callie kneeled and rubbed the calf. Then she stuck a piece of straw in its nose to stimulate it to sneeze and clear its nose.

  “Don’t bother,” Lauren said. “It won’t help. He didn’t make it. Poor thing.”

  Callie rubbed frantically. “Do something. Give him a shot of stimulant.”

  “It won’t help. I’m sorry. He’s dead and has been for a while.”

  Tears gathered in Callie’s eyes as she focused on Lauren. “What happened? Why?”

  Lauren needed to tell the truth, even if it made things worse between them. “Well, maybe…”

  “Maybe?”

  “His head was caught on the heifer’s pelvis and she couldn’t push him out.”

  “But you fixed it.”

  “How long was she calving?”

  Callie shrugged. “I didn’t realize she was ready. When I found her in the paddock, she was already straining.” Her eyes went wide as she stared at Lauren. “Did I wait too long to call you? I screwed around too long trying to pull the calf myself, didn’t I?”

  That was probably the case, but there was no need to rub it in. “I’m not sure it would’ve helped if you’d called as soon as you found her. You did your best.”

  Callie stroked the calf’s neck. Tears slipped down her cheeks and landed on its damp fur. “I should’ve stayed with you to help instead of sulking.”

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference. He was already dead when I arrived,” Lauren said.

  “It’s all my fault. I’m hopeless.” Callie jumped to her feet and plunged her dirty hands into the bucket of hot water. She snatched the brush floating in the bucket and scrubbed her hands until they were red. Then she wiped her wet hands on her jacket as she paced. “Why did you tell me to deliver my own calves? I should never have tried. Now the calf is dead. Heinz Kruger’s right. I can’t do this.”

  Lauren pushed off the ground as if she were a hundred years old. She washed her hands, scrubbing gently, and dried them on an old towel. Then she stepped to one side as Callie paced. “Don’t blame yourself. We can’t tell when she started. The calf may already have been dead when you found her.”

  “But we don’t know.”

  “No, we don’t, and we can’t know. This kind of thing happens, Callie.”

  Callie turned her back to Lauren and covered her face with her hands. “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have tried.”

  “Please don’t beat yourself up. It was bad luck. That’s all.”

  “That was the last of my heifers to calve. Will the older cows need help?”

  “Some may.”

  Callie whirled and pointed at Lauren. “Then I’m calling you if I see any problems.”

  “Okay, but you can do it. I know you can, and Heinz is a jerk. He’s not right about anything. Please don’t listen to him.”

  Callie swiped at her cheeks and shook her head.

  Lauren stepped toward Callie, but her arms hung at her sides. They weighed a thousand pounds and she couldn’t lift them. If she touched Callie would she brush her off again? She longed to hold Callie and kiss the tears from her eyes. Lauren understood the self-loathing and despair that swarmed a person when an animal died. The dead calf had shaken Callie’s confidence, but she had to attempt a calving again or she would never recover.

  Callie’s eyes bored into Lauren’s face as if searching for something. Then Callie’s shoulders slumped, and she studied the ground. “If the cows don’t need help, I guess I won’t see you anymore?”

  Too scared to speak and too scared to move, Lauren did nothing.

  Callie scrutinized her for a few more seconds. Then she turned and sprinted from the barn.

  Lauren dragged the dead calf out of the pen. She cleaned her equipment and stowed it in her kit. Disappointed and feeling inadequate, she carried her calving kits to the truck and packed them away. She washed her boots, dumped the dirty water, and tossed her bucket and brush with more force than necessary into the truck. She scanned the farmyard for Callie but couldn’t find her. Not sure if she was relieve
d or disappointed, Lauren hauled herself into her truck and drove off.

  Callie’s voice and posture had screamed defeat, and Lauren had yearned to say something meaningful about the dead calf. And about their fight. Their ridiculous fight. Callie was better off without her. Everyone was better off without her. Callie had enough stress in her life she didn’t need a friend or whatever they were to complicate it. Callie needed strong and steady. Not weak and waffling.

  And what did she need? Lauren needed peace and stability. She was connecting with Sam and William again and needed to concentrate on the hurt she’d caused them. And she needed to stay away from Poplarcreek to avoid hurting Becky. Lauren nodded. The best place for her was a thousand kilometers from Poplarcreek.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Lauren? Lauren, are you there?” Ian waved a hand in front of her face.

  “Did you say something?” She couldn’t concentrate. It had been two days since she’d delivered the dead calf at Poplarcreek. She’d picked up the phone a dozen times to call Callie and chickened out. Every time the front door of the clinic opened, she listened for a certain voice.

  “I said I need you to go to Kruger Farm. Heinz called and his most valuable bull has sliced his shoulder open. Sorry to send you, but he’s demanding a veterinarian this morning. Fiona is off today, and Janice says my schedule is full.”

  “How badly injured is the bull?”

  “Janice said it’s a deep wound. Be prepared to suture him.”

  “I’ll go, but Heinz doesn’t let me near his bulls. He only trusts you.”

  “True, but he wants you today. Bulldozer’s a valuable animal.”

  Lauren swallowed with difficulty, and every drop of moisture vanished from her throat. The Krugers had gone largely silent since the police had started nosing around, but the last thing she wanted to do was go to their farm, where she’d be alone with them.

  She hadn’t told Ian and Fiona about the altercation at the clinic with Kyle and Tommy. About how Kyle had lured her to the clinic and threatened her. She should have done it right away, but she worried Ian would take the Krugers’ side. He wouldn’t do that, or would he? Kruger Farm was a big client and Ian had known Heinz for over twenty years. What if he saw it as only a misunderstanding? She was the outsider after all. But it was broad daylight and there were other people around. There was nothing to fear.