Take Your Time

by VK Powell

  Trip frowned. “You mean when I send her to the airport to ship or pick up semen?” She tossed her chicken bone into the woods. “This is breeding season and frozen semen is big business in the horse world. I’ve been sending Dani to Savannah to keep her from feeling so isolated in Pine Cone.”

  Grace considered Trip’s comment and studied the river. She’d basically just met Dani and already had the hots for her, but Dani was running hot and cold. She took another sip of wine, and when she glanced back at Clay and Trip, they were both studying her with a look she knew too well. “No, no, no. I’m not falling for her. Really.”

  “Then why can’t you look at us? You’re a crap liar,” Trip said.

  “And what were you doing in the alley with her the other day?” Clay waved a rib in front of her face like a magic wand.

  “Yeah. Wait. What?” Trip looked back and forth between them. “What alley?”

  Clay gave Trip the abbreviated version of finding Grace and Dani practically tit to tit between the hardware and drugstore. “She said nothing was going on, but it looked cozy to me.”

  “You’re seeing things.” If Clay imagined their coziness, so did Grace because she’d felt the connection too.

  “Did I imagine seeing the two of you heading into my office yesterday?”

  “She was upset because she saw me with Jay but couldn’t talk about it. I’m not falling for her. She’s afraid of getting involved, I mean really involved.”

  “What do you want, Grace?” Trip waited while Grace twirled her wine glass.

  “I can’t stop thinking about her, but I refuse to chase her. I tried that once, and we all know how that turned out. Am I doing something wrong?”

  Trip washed down some potato salad and turned to Grace. “Dating is a dance. If you yank on the lead rope to force a horse to follow, he’s either going to balk or his flight instinct will kick in and he’ll drag you off your feet. So, instead, you guide the horse to go where you want by teaching them to give in to pressure. It’s how a stallion moves a herd, or a boss mare leads it. Before you know it, she’ll be following you around like a puppy.”

  “I thought we were talking about dating, not dancing or riding lessons.” Clay shook her head. “Seriously, dude, how did you ever get a woman, much less bed half of Pine Cone, with advice like that?”

  “Dancing, training horses, and dating—a lot of the same techniques apply. That’s why I’m so good at all three.” Trip blew on her fingernails and brushed them against her T-shirt.

  “Okay, I get it, maybe,” Grace said. “But you know I’ve got no game.”

  “Absolutely none.” Trip scooted closer.

  Clay draped her arm around Grace’s shoulder on the other side. “The important thing is to just be yourself, Gracie. You’re a people person who enjoys chatting and spending time. Let Dani see the real you.”

  “Yep,” Trip added, reaching for another chicken wing.

  “The other night, she bolted from the cottage like her butt was on fire.” She realized her error too late.

  “Your cottage?” Trip eyed her.

  “What night?” Clay rolled her hand, encouraging Grace to say more.

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. She’s trying to figure out why Harry hates me, so I asked her to come by and check out my place. We had a couple of drinks and…”

  Two pairs of eyes locked on her like sights on a target.

  “And we almost kissed. We moved together at the same time, and it almost happened, but it didn’t. All I saw were elbows and dust shooting up from her shoes on her way back to the house.” Grace paused, her face heating. “But then she kissed me at the cookout. Totally clumsy. It just happened because she was upset or something. Who knows?” She gave Trip a shy glance.

  “Yes.” Trip pumped her fist in the air. “And what’d you do?”

  “Well, it was awkward. Sort of like, ‘There. I did it.’” Grace ducked her head and grinned. She’d been so moved by that simple, clumsy kiss that she’d initiated another. It had been sizzling and emotionally arousing. “Then I showed her how to really kiss.”

  Clay hooted, and Trip reached behind Grace to bump fists with Clay.

  “Sounds to me like she’s coming around,” Trip said.

  Grace frowned. “I don’t know what to do next.”

  “Cook for her,” Clay added, her stomach never far from any conversation.

  “Screw her brains out at the first available opportunity,” Trip said. “She can get good food at a dozen restaurants, but great sex—”

  “Worthless I say, totally worthless. She’s probably had more sex than all of us combined, and I’m not going to sleep with her to try and convince her to stay. She either wants me or she doesn’t. End of story.” Grace poured another cup of wine. “Let’s talk about something else. Like maybe Clay scoring with the gorgeous River Hemsworth?”

  “Wait, what?” Trip looked at her.

  “Nothing,” Clay said.

  “Come to think of it, why did you leave yesterday in such a hurry? You didn’t even say good-bye. And you left River poolside looking kind of upset.” Trip’s attention was fully focused on Clay now.

  “I don’t want to talk about me. We’re here for Grace, remember?”

  “Too late,” Grace chimed in.

  “So? What happened yesterday?” Trip wasn’t letting this one go.

  “We had a misunderstanding,” Clay said.

  “And?” Her answer clearly hadn’t satisfied Trip.

  “We spent last night sorting it out.” Clay’s cheeks turned pink under the scrutiny.

  “All night?” Grace’s high-pitched question ended in a giggle.

  “And this morning.” Clay couldn’t stifle a big grin or stop the deeper flush of her cheeks.

  “I knew it.” Grace was smiling too, her own worries forgotten for the moment in the presence of Clay’s happiness. “I knew she was into you that very first day under the maple tree, sitting on that stupid fake plastic deer.”

  “Yeah, well, it just took me a little longer to figure it out.”

  “Maybe you’ll finally cheer up. I miss my pal, Clay.” Trip reached over and playfully punched her shoulder.

  “And what about you, Fast Break?” Clay asked. “Anybody catch your interest?”

  “Not really.” Trip shook her head. “It’s…complicated.”

  “Oh, do tell.” Grace rubbed her hands together.

  Trip peeled at the label on her beer bottle before finally answering. “I sort of like someone from my past, but she’s not the forgiving type.”

  “Ouch,” Clay said. “Did you sleep with her girlfriend or something?” Trip’s look said it all. “Oh shit, dude, really?”

  “The girl from college?” Grace asked. “You were all friends until…She told us about that, Clay. Remember?”

  “But she’s not here, is she?”

  Grace couldn’t recall the girl’s name, but there weren’t that many new women in town, only River, Dani, and… “Jamie? My Jamie?” Trip looked vexed. “I don’t mean my Jamie, just my officer Jamie.”

  Clay shook her head. “I’m confused. The one who’s been laying parking tickets all over your truck like she’s hanging wallpaper?”

  Trip nodded. “The girl knows how to make an impression.”

  “She’s just doing her job, Trip. I’ve asked her to use more discretion, but she’s military.”

  “I’d be happy to pay every single ticket if she’d just talk to me.”

  “We’re a sorry bunch,” Grace said.

  Trip sighed. “Pathetic.”

  They were silent for a few long moments, staring out at the river while they contemplated their woman issues.

  Then Grace threw her head back and laughed. “You can sit down here and sulk if you want, Trip Beaumont.” She turned both her thumbs toward herself. “Glitter Girl is putting her heart out there again.” She pointed to them. “Clay has River now. When you’re done with your little pity party, Trip, go h
ome, put on your big girl pants, and go courting like the Fast Break from our high school days. Show Jamie you’ve still got what it takes to sweep her off her feet.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dani tapped on Trip’s open office door, hoping her desire to be in on Petunia’s examination this morning didn’t reflect a lack of trust in her abilities. She’d gotten the impression Trip’s interest was more personal, more in the direction of Jamie Grant. Before they finished the examination, she’d know for sure. If she knew one thing, it was women, with the exception of Grace, who left her a tangled mass of nerves and emotions. “They’re in exam room three,” Dani said.

  “Thanks.” Trip put her pen down and rose from her chair. She wiped her hands on her jeans and looked a little unsettled, though nothing like Sunday morning after the party.

  When she brushed past, Dani stopped her with a hand on her arm. She reached around Trip and neatly slipped the white lab coat from the hook by the door. “I’m told that a white coat with doctor on the name tag always impresses.” She handed the coat to Trip with a smile.

  Trip’s uncustomary response was a nod and a weak “thanks.” Something was definitely bothering her, but now wasn’t the time to broach it.

  Michelle stepped out of exam room three, pulled the door closed, and gasped for breath. “Oh my God,” she said, her voice carrying down the hallway. “I should’ve put that one in a room with a window that opens.”

  Trip clenched her jaws, and Dani jumped in. “Michelle, can you give me a hand with the Hollister beagle in the back?”

  Trip stopped her. “Actually, Dani, I’d like you to see the Grant dog with me. Two heads will be better than one.” Trip glared at Michelle. “And I want you to wait in my office. We’re going to have a little chat about your continued lack of professional decorum.”

  Michelle opened her mouth to say something but checked herself and went directly to Trip’s office. Dani didn’t say another word.

  Trip sucked in a deep breath and opened the door to exam room three, and Dani trailed silently behind. “Hey, Jamie.”

  Jamie looked from Dani to Trip, her expression questioning. A wheat-colored, wire-haired terrier mix sat on the exam table, watching them with wary eyes and pressing herself against Jamie’s chest. “I thought we were seeing Dani this morning.”

  Dani was smart enough to know when to let the boss take the lead.

  “Dani and I talked about what you told her Saturday and agreed that two heads would be better to figure out your pup’s problem.” Trip spoke in a soothing tone for Petunia’s benefit. “Will you introduce us?”

  Jamie seemed to consider her options briefly, but finally stroked the terrier’s head and nodded. “This is Petunia.” Jamie’s face twisted in a grimace. “I just call her P. Some joker at the shelter probably named her that because of her gastric problems.”

  “Hello, P.” Trip held out her hand for Petunia to sniff while Dani made notes in Petunia’s chart. “Hey, girl. I understand you’ve got a bit of a bellyache.” Petunia’s lips curled into a silent snarl.

  Jamie cleared her throat. “It might help if you ditched the coat. She was rescued from a research lab, and they probably wore white lab coats.”

  “Damn. You didn’t tell me that,” Dani said, shucking her coat and taking Trip’s as well. “I’ll toss these in my office.”

  “While you’re doing that, will you send Michelle out back to help Jerome for the rest of the morning?” Trip kept her voice nonchalant so she didn’t upset Petunia, but Dani could tell she was still troubled by Michelle’s earlier comment. “Then call Jerome and let him know she needs to strip some stalls.”

  Shoveling out the bottom layers of urine-soaked wood chips was the worst job in a stable. Dani grinned. “Sure thing, Trip.”

  But Jamie frowned. “You don’t have to do that for me. I’m used to people saying crap about P’s gastric problem.”

  Trip looked up sharply. “Not in my clinic. Not about my sick clients.”

  Dani ditched the lab coats, delivered the bad news to Michelle, and called Jerome before heading back to the exam room. When she slipped back inside, Trip and Jamie were ending a hug. From Jamie’s flushed face and Trip’s starry-eyed smile, both had enjoyed it.

  “Now, let’s see if Petunia is buying it,” Trip said.

  Petunia’s dark eyes went from Jamie’s face to Trip’s, and she sniffed at Trip’s scent on Jamie. Trip tucked the diaphragm end of her stethoscope inside her shirt to warm it and held out her hand to the terrier again. Petunia snuffled Trip’s hand, then stood on the table to thoroughly examine Jamie’s scent on her. Trip scratched behind Petunia’s ears like Jamie had done, then knelt next to the table to put herself at eye level with the terrier, but not so close as to be in Petunia’s personal space. Dani was constantly impressed with her skills with animals.

  “So, P.” Trip worked her scratching fingers around Petunia’s neck to her chest. “Your mom and I go way back to when we were both baby dykes strutting around the college campus like we thought we were special. Actually, Jamie is sort of special.”

  That explained the familiarity between them, Dani thought, but not the tension.

  Petunia thumped her tail against the metal table as if agreeing with what Trip had said, then her back foot when Trip scratched a particularly itchy spot along her spine.

  Trip continued. “Jamie upped my game on the basketball court so much, we were both being scouted to play pro.” She kept up the running monologue while scratching turned to a massage before she slowly stood. “But things happened and she ran off to join the Army. I didn’t even get to talk to her before she left. I was really scared when I found out she was doing tours in Iraq.”

  Trip finally glanced up at Jamie, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. Dani sensed definite chemistry between them but returned her attention to the chart.

  Petunia sighed and rolled onto her back, releasing a long expel of flatulence as she relaxed into Trip’s gentle massage of her belly. Trip continued, keeping her voice low and even, and Dani scribbled notes as Trip dictated. “Possible neuter scar along the belly crease, but since she came from a research lab, it could be from a different, more extensive surgery. Significant bloating, but flatulence odor is indicative of incomplete digestion rather than fetid bowel. Tenderness apparent in the upper quadrant upon palpation and a thickening of tissue which could indicate a number of things—intense inflammation, blockage, scarring from previous surgeries, intestinal cysts, or tumors.”

  Trip pulled her stethoscope from her shirt, keeping up the massage with her other hand. “Jamie, can you rub her lightly while I do some listening?” Jamie trailed her fingers along Petunia’s chest while Trip listened to her bowel sounds, then along her belly while Trip listened to her heart and lungs. “Heart and lungs sound good, but her gut is definitely painful and producing a lot of gas.” She held the stethoscope out to Dani and stepped to the side. “How about you take a listen just in case you hear something I didn’t.”

  Dani couldn’t suppress a moment of pride that Trip wanted her opinion as well. She put her notes aside and rubbed her hands together to make sure they were sufficiently warm. Petunia’s only reaction when Dani’s hand replaced Trip’s was to let out a long snore. She was a picture of relaxation. They waited in silence for Dani’s verdict.

  “Heart and lungs good,” Dani confirmed. “And I concur on the tenderness.” Petunia’s hind foot twitched when Dani pressed against her lower belly.

  Trip gently rolled Petunia onto her side when she began to sneeze from lying on her back. The terrier stood and shook herself, then looked to Jamie.

  “So,” Jamie said.

  “I understand that Petunia has a history of bowel problems, but let’s talk specifically about why you brought her in today.”

  “She’s been reluctant to eat lately. I’ve been feeding her prescription food that a specialist in New York prescribed, but she’s either tired of it or doesn’t feel like eating at al
l.”

  “If her intestines are tender or she’s feeling too bloated, that could discourage her appetite,” Trip said. “Dani, let’s draw some blood and get a panel on her.”

  “I brought stool and urine samples,” Jamie said, pointing to a pair of plastic containers by the exam room sink.

  “That’s great.” Dani gathered what she needed from the cabinets over the sink’s counter.

  “I know the drill. I’ve taken her to a dozen specialists, trying to fix this for her.” Jamie’s voice broke on her last words, and the muscle in her jaw worked while she watched Dani.

  While Dani collected the samples, Trip took the chart, and when she spoke again, her voice was thicker and quieter as if she were fighting deep emotions. “So, can you give me some background on Petunia? You rescued her from a research lab?”

  Jamie shook her head. “I got her from a kill shelter. She’d originally come from a research lab. The people who left her there said their son had adopted P from the SPCA after the lab gave in to public pressure to stop animal testing. Then he dumped her on them when he decided to travel overseas after graduating college.”

  “If we could track down the type of research they were doing, it might give some clues about her problem.” Trip was in full problem-solving mode, and Dani just watched her work.

  “The shelter asked, but the couple didn’t know and their son was overseas and unreachable. I asked for information on the people who turned her in, but the shelter said that was private information they couldn’t give out.”

  “What was the name of the shelter? I’d like to talk to the vet they use to see if they can give me any history on her.”

  Surprise showed in Jamie’s eyes, then a glimmer of hope. “Nobody, none of the specialists we’ve seen, ever asked me that before.”

  Dani patted Jamie’s shoulder. “I promise Trip and I will leave no stone unturned. Trust us.”

  Jamie looked down at Petunia, her throat working. When she looked up, she searched Trip’s face, not Dani’s, and Dani hesitated to break their connection.