by Laura Moore
“This weather makes it hard, doesn’t it? Maybe we could call and ask whether they might not be able to start kindergarten today” Cassie said, jokingly.
“No, everything will be fine, I just want to make sure they have fun today. If worse comes to worst, I’ll dress them up from head to foot in their rain gear and they can jump around in the puddles. They love that.”
It was seven o’clock and the rain was pouring down in hard, heavy sheets. Cassie and Thompson were taking advantage of a quiet breakfast to discuss the day’s plans for the kids. Jamie and Sophie were to start their new school in the middle of the week, so Thompson had two full days to keep them entertained and out of mischief until it was time to bring them over to the barn for their afternoon lesson. Then Cassie would go on duty. At times like these, Cassie felt like a four-star general, discussing a battle campaign, but experience had taught Thompson and Cassie to be ready for anything when it came to dealing with these two youngsters. Especially in bad weather, when it was difficult to let off steam.
A knock on the kitchen door interrupted them. Cassie recognized Caleb’s dark head through the rain streaked glass and rose quickly to let him into the dry warmth of the kitchen.
“Hi. Thanks,” Caleb offered as he brushed by her. Large drops of water glistened in his hair as he moved, his shoulders had wet patches where the denim had absorbed the rain. Caleb stopped a few feet short of the table and ran his hand through his thick hair splattering drops across the tiled floor. As he turned to face them, Cassie’s heart lurched. His eyes were smudged with deep shadows of fatigue. Heavy, dark stubble covered his face, marking the strong lines of his cheekbones and jaw.
“Lousy day. I just dropped by to thank you for your note. What I could read of it, that is. The rain kind of smeared the ink.”
“When did you get back? How’s the dog?”
“Only about five minutes ago. I think he’s going to make it, but it was touch and go all night. I stayed at the hospital so I could check on his vital signs through the night. One of my partners, Derek Cole, took over for me this morning.”
“Would you like some breakfast?” Thompson made a gesture toward the kitchen table.
“No thanks. I just came back to shower and pour some more coffee down my throat before I head back. Finnegan seems stabilized, so I thought this would be a good time to clean myself up a bit. But I want to be back at the hospital when his owner comes by.”
“Finnegan? You mean that lovely boxer? The one owned by that nice gentleman?” Cassie’s voice rose with concern as she remembered the beautiful tawny boxer in Caleb’s hospital.
“Yeah,” Caleb confirmed sadly. “I’d forgotten you saw him the other day. Mr. O’Mally was in pretty bad shape, too, when he brought Finnegan in. The dog’s really important to him.”
Before he could continue, Thompson interrupted. “Here, Caleb, sit down for a minute and drink this.” She brought over a steaming mug of coffee and placed it in front of him. “I’ll just make some toast you can eat quickly before you shower and change. You can tell us what happened while you eat.”
Taking a deep sip of the hot liquid, Caleb closed his eyes briefly. They felt gritty, as if a fine layer of sand was stuck between them and his lids. God, he was so tired. Well, the coffee and shower would have to do the trick. He could sleep later. With what seemed like a superhuman effort, he opened his eyes to find Cassie studying him, a look of worry marring her beautiful features. He gave her a small, tired smile. She smiled back, but the fine lines across her brow remained.
As the smell of toasting bread filled the air Caleb recounted the previous afternoon’s events. Francis O’Mally had been taking Finnegan for his afternoon walk when suddenly the machine-gun sound of firecrackers erupted. Finnegan had freaked, terrified by the noise, and bolted, yanking the leash out of Mr. O’Mally’s hand. The dog had run straight into the path of an oncoming car.
Fortunately the driver of the car was fine, just terribly shaken at having struck an animal.
But Finnegan had been severely injured. Mr. O’Mally and the police officer who arrived on the scene telephoned the Animal Hospital immediately. Since it was a Sunday Caleb had been paged on his beeper and had straight away called Matt Dupre, his veterinary assistant, telling him to get over to the hospital on the double, Caleb rushing over to meet them.
“Poor Mr. O’Mally, how terrible for him,” Cassie interjected, shaking her head in sympathy.
Caleb nodded, bleakly recalling the look on the elderly gentleman’s face after the injured dog had been examined. He had ushered Mr. O’Mally into his office so that he wouldn’t be made even more upset by the sight of his injured dog lying with thick, plastic tubes sticking into him.
“I’m afraid Finnegan’s been hurt pretty badly Mr. O’Mally. The impact of the collision has collapsed his lung. For the moment, we’ve inserted a tube in his nose to help him breathe. And we’ve got an IV going, to help his body deal with the shock. We’ll set about trying to reinflate the lung as soon as you and I finish talking.”
Caleb paused for a minute, giving Mr. O’Mally a chance to come to terms with the severity of Finnegan’s injuries. “So far reinflating the lung’s our immediate concern. Unfortunately Finnegan’s hip is also fractured. Because of the area of the break, he’ll have to undergo surgery for that. But first I want to make sure that his lung is attended to and that there’s no other internal damage. I don’t want to risk operating on him until I’m sure his vital organs can withstand additional trauma.”
Francis O’Mally pressed a fist to his trembling mouth. Unchecked tears streaked his cheeks. He kept his hand over his mouth as he spoke in a broken voice. “If only I’d been able to hang onto that leash. I feel so dreadful, so guilty. It all happened so quickly too quickly to stop it. One minute we were walking along calmly the next, that unholy racket, Finnegan crying in terror and bolting before I even knew what was going on. And then that awful noise. Of the car hitting his body . . .” A sob shook his shoulders. Caleb was silent as Mr. O’Mally tried valiantly to get his emotions under control once more.
At last the elderly man was able to continue. “Dr. Wells, I love Finnegan. I feel like he’s part of me sometimes. But you’ve got to tell me honestly. Do you think you can save him, are we simply asking too much of him? Will he live the rest of his life in pain? I couldn’t stand to see him suffer just for me. So if we are asking too much of his body I’d like to end his suffering as quickly as possible.”
Caleb nodded his dark head in sympathy. “I understand, Mr. O’Mally. But first, I want you to stop feeling guilty about the accident. I doubt anyone would have been able to keep a hold of Finnegan’s leash. Firecrackers drive animals mad with terror. There’s no way you could have prevented this accident.”
The older man gave Caleb a weak smile, but continued to shake his head, unable to let go of his feeling of responsibility.
Not wishing to press the issue right now, Caleb continued. “With respect to Finnegan, Mr. O’Mally, we’ve got three important factors in our favor. First, he’s young— barely four years. Second, he’s strong and in tip-top shape. You’ve taken excellent care of him. Finally, he’s got your love. No, no, I’m serious. The bond between the two of you will make the pain of his convalescence that much more tolerable as he recuperates.”
“But will he be in pain for the rest of his life?” Mr. O’Mally persisted anxiously.
“Mr. O’Mally, I obviously can’t give you an absolute guarantee. Finnegan’s been badly hurt. I think we can successfully treat his injuries. And we have to remember and have faith in the incredible recuperative powers of animals. So I guess what I’m saying is that you’ve got every reason to be hopeful.”
“Thank you, Dr. Wells.” O’Mally stood and stretched out his hand. “I’m sure you’ll do everything you can for him. Will you be repairing the lung and performing the hip surgery as well?”
“I’ll reinflate his lung right now that’s our first priority. But I think Mark
Winterer should do the hip operation. He’s an incredibly gifted surgeon. We’ll set a time tomorrow so you can meet him and we can go over the procedure with you.”
“This is going to be quite expensive, isn’t it?” Worry once more creeping into the older man’s voice.
Caleb didn’t hesitate a second. He quoted a figure that was roughly a quarter of what he thought the actual price would be. The animal hospital was doing well enough to absorb some of the cost, and he knew that his partners would be equally reluctant to charge an elderly man the full cost of such incredibly expensive procedures.
Luckily, Mr. O’Mally was blessedly ignorant of the actual amount of money that would be involved in saving his dog’s life. The older man let out a sigh of relief at the fee Caleb quoted and allowed himself to be led out of the office. Caleb instructed him to call him later in the evening for an update, and then to return to the hospital in the morning. Then Caleb had immediately turned his attention to his patient.
That was that. After a night of worry over Finnegan’s lungs and low body temperature, the dog seemed to be stabilizing. No one could say he was out of the woods yet, but Caleb was hopeful, even as he kept his fingers crossed.
Omitting from his account the conversation between Mr. O’Mally and him concerning the expense of the procedures, Caleb listed Finnegan’s injuries for the two women as he alternately drank his coffee and consumed the toast Thompson had prepared, welcoming the calories and the jolt of caffeine that energized his exhausted system. Cassie’s eyes were wide with anxiety as she pondered the extent of the dog’s injuries, but she remained silent, not wanting to delay the story with lengthy questions.
Draining the last drop from his cup, Caleb stood, ready now for a quick shower before returning to the hospital.
“Sorry to eat and run, but I need to head back,” he said apologetically as he moved toward the kitchen door. Cassie rose, too, and held the door open. He paused on the threshold, letting the persistent rhythm of pouring rain enter the bright kitchen.
“Don’t worry, Caleb. As Thompson loves to say, you’ve got enough on your plate right now. Just let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”
“Yes,” chimed in Thompson. “And don’t even think about cooking a meal for yourself when you get home. You come on over and let me fix you something.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. Let’s hope old Finnegan pulls through.” He looked at Cassie, wishing he could take her into his arms and kiss her. Hating that he had to settle for a quick smile instead.
“See you, Slim.” And he was gone.
The week rushed by with the speed of a locomotive. Jamie and Sophie went off to school with hardly any of the fear or anxiety Cassie had secretly worried over. Perhaps being a twin was a huge help in situations like this. Sophie and Jamie were there for each other, so neither felt completely alone in the new school without a single familiar face in sight. After only two days, they were already bringing home stories, telling about the other kids in their class, the day’s events, and what their teacher, Miss Springer, had taught them.
Cassie continued working with the horses in her charge at Five Oaks, excited by the challenge each one represented. Every morning, she reviewed their schedules with Hank, trading ideas about how best to work with the animals. The first shows were coming up in a little over a month. The horses that would be competing needed to be up to snuff by then. Caleb was too busy these days at the animal hospital to do more than drop by for a few minutes now and then. Cassie didn’t even see him on those brief visits, hearing only through the grapevine—operated by Hank and Melissa—that Finnegan’s recovery, though slow was progressing.
But on Friday night, Caleb at last made an appearance, knocking once more on the kitchen door. Cassie had been helping Thompson prepare dinner, and, hoping that the knock was Caleb’s, hurried to answer it. The older woman saw the flush of anticipation on her face. Smiling, she turned back to the sink to busy herself with the fish fillets.
They stood staring at each other, neither of them speaking. She couldn’t believe how much she’d missed him this past week, all the conflicting emotions she’d felt for Caleb since that day in Topper’s stall suddenly evaporating now that he was standing there in front of her. A giddy excitement rose deliciously up inside her, like the finest of champagnes.
He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over his face. How was it possible, he wondered, that she looked better every time he saw her? Wasn’t he supposed to get desensitized to that mass of golden hair those sparkling eyes, and that so very kissable mouth? But there she stood, extraordinarily beautiful, looking up at him as if he were the greatest thing since sliced bread.
It occurred to him with a staggering clarity that he wanted nothing more than to be able to come home and see Cassie smile at him like this every night, with that happy wondrous look on her face. Rushing after this thought was the realization that he’d happily devote himself to keeping that look on her face there forever.
The idea left him reeling. Ruthlessly, he reined his thoughts in. Whoa there, Caleb, he cautioned himself. Remember life’s little lessons. You’ve already done the happily ever after. It lasted about nine months. Don’t confuse lust for a gorgeous woman with what you know can’t happen. Just stick with good old-fashioned lust. It’s never steered you wrong.
Obeying his inner voice with lightning speed, Caleb grabbed hold of Cassie’s hand. He flashed a wide smile at Thompson. “Back in a bit, Bessie. Got to show Cassie something. Mind if I invite myself to dinner?”
Without waiting for an answer, he tugged Cassie after him into the dark of the evening. Caleb broke into a lope, still holding Cassie’s hand. Chuckling at her breathless protests, he didn’t stop until they reached the small grove of trees by the edge of the pond. Once there, he turned toward her, allowing the momentum of her moving body to propel her into his arms. He smiled into the dark night at the impact, her body colliding softly with his. His arms tightened, drawing her even closer.
“Hi Slim,” he whispered softly, his warm breath fanning her face, his mouth inches from hers. “Long time no see.” He felt as much as saw her lips form Hello in reply as he lowered his head to capture the words. Sweet. He plundered her mouth again and again, desire and hunger coursing through him with a force that left him shaking.
Cassie could only moan and hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life as his sensual assault continued. He was so clever intuitively touching, kissing her in places she never dreamed would elicit such wild responses. She felt him strain against her, his body thrillingly aroused. Suddenly frantic, her hands traveled down the length of his shirt, tugging the hem out of his jeans. So desperate to feel his flesh.
She touched him.
Her hands sought him like a blind person learning the contours of a sculpture, her fingers skimming along the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers moved to the top button of his jeans.
He thought he might explode.
His tortured groan was music to her ears. Her fingers responded accordingly quickly freeing the flat metal button, sliding down along the worn fabric to search out the next.
Desperately Caleb’s hands shot out and circled her wrists like steel manacles, forcing her hands to a halt.
“Cassie, love ” his voice was rough, strangled with passion. “If your hands go any further here, we’re going to have a major meltdown. One more centimeter south, and nothing on earth’s going to stop me from taking you.” Just saying it had him instinctively flexing his hips, pressing against the juncture of her thighs, giving them both a preview of the pleasure that awaited. His body shuddered in reaction even as he forced himself to draw away.
Incapable of coherent speech, Cassie stood mute. As Caleb stepped back, and the cool night air invaded the few inches that separated their aching bodies, Cassie felt the loss as keenly as a razor’s edge. Long seconds passed before her body was hers to control once more. She raised her eyes to Caleb’s.
A wry smile of understandi
ng lifted the corners of his mouth. “Holy Moses, what you do to me, Slim.”
“I think it’s more like what we do to each other ” she replied shakily, still too close to combustion to try to pretend otherwise.
Caleb’s strong white teeth flashed in the night as he laughed, grateful for her attempt at humor. Now that the moment had passed, he could only marvel at the instantaneous and uncontrollable effect she had on him. When he was with Cassie, it was like striking a match to a bonfire, flames quickly turning to a conflagration.
Well, at least he could forsake his absurd vow of self-restraint, he thought happily.
He looped an arm about her shoulder, squeezing it affectionately as they turned back toward the lights of the house. “Come on, Slim, let’s go back inside. You know there’s only one thing in the world right now that could keep me from making love to you, right here under this tree for the rest of the night, and that’s Thompson’s cooking. I swear I haven’t eaten a decent meal since last Saturday.”
One didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to be able to figure out exactly what Caleb had been “showing” Cassie for the past fifteen minutes. A single glance at Cassie’s flushed features and swollen lips told the tale. Excellent for the appetite, Thompson reflected, pleased to see Caleb and Cassie’s mutual attraction humming along nicely. Pretending not to notice Cassie’s somewhat distracted state, Thompson ushered the two of them to the table and called for Sophie and Jamie to join them.
Over dinner Cassie and Thompson urged Caleb to fill them in on Finnegan’s progress.
“It’s been a long five days the boxer ” Caleb began. “That first night, we managed to reinflate the lungs, but then discovered there was still some air trapped in his stomach. So we had to perform a tap to draw out the air. Otherwise his lungs wouldn’t be able to reexpand to their normal size. To complicate matters, after we succeeded in removing the air the poor guy developed arrhythmia.”
