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Miami Attraction

Page 2

by Elaine Overton


  “What the hell is going on?” Dusty asked Tim.

  Tim’s eyes widened, noticing his boss standing in the doorway of the operating room.

  “Sorry, Dr. Warren, a dog got loose.”

  “A dog?”

  “A new patient. Hannah was just checking her in when—”

  A blue-jeans-clad woman came charging around the same corner as the others and did not even hesitate as she rushed past both Dusty and Tim, following in the wake of Hannah and the dog.

  A slight breeze of perfume floated on the air as she passed, but the woman was moving so fast Dusty barely saw her face. The snug fit of the jeans around her curvy hips would’ve been noticeable even in the dark.

  “Who was that?” he asked Tim, who still hadn’t moved from his position on the opposite wall.

  “That’s the dog’s owner.” Tim looked down the hall where the three had disappeared around the corner. “It’s Mikayla Shroeder.”

  “The author?”

  “In the flesh.” Tim nodded.

  Dusty shook his head, trying to shake off his growing confusion. “Can you finish up here?” he called to Nurse Fran over his shoulder.

  “No problem,” she called back.

  Dusty let go of the swinging door, removed his latex gloves and went after the two women and the dog, motioning for Tim to follow.

  Dusty thought about the large size of the animal that had rushed by earlier. “Is the dog dangerous?” he asked, taking long strides.

  “No,” Tim answered a few steps behind him, “just ill-mannered. That thing she has in his mouth is Hannah’s new dress. She bought it for a party she’s going to tonight with her new boyfriend.”

  Dusty glanced over his shoulder at his young caretaker, remembering that only recently he and Hannah had stopped dating.

  “She had just taken it out of the bag to show some of us and then the phone rang.” Tim continued. “She laid it on the desk, and out of nowhere the dog grabbed it and took off.”

  Dusty came around the corner. He stopped dead in his tracks, leaving Tim to put on his brakes to avoid running into the back of him. They were in the pen area and the other dogs locked in the cages were going crazy with the sudden infusion of activity around them.

  Before Dusty were his receptionist, Hannah, and the dog’s owner, both flanking the dog. To be fair, the scruffy, mangy mutt barely qualified as a canine. The large dog had dirty, gold-colored, matted fur. She had the large, muscular build and square-shaped head of a Saint Bernard, but the pointed features and blue eyes of a husky. Independently, both were beautiful species of dogs, but combined in this two-hundred-pound monstrosity it seemed an abomination.

  Watching the two women, its whole body vibrated with excitement. The dog stood in a wide-legged stance with a tattered red cloth clamped between its teeth, shining blue eyes looking for any small opportunity to escape.

  In the cacophony of barks and howls, Dusty heard what sounded like a muffled cry and realized it was coming from his receptionist.

  “Oh, what’s the use, it’s ruined!” Hannah’s shoulders slumped, her guard dropped, and the dog seized the opportunity, ducking between her legs only to be grabbed by the collar and tackled by Tim.

  “I’m so sorry.” The other woman put her arms around Hannah’s shoulders, and Dusty found his eyes once again drawn to her fitted jeans. “I’ll replace it—today. Just tell me where you bought it and the size and I’ll pick up another today.”

  “You can’t!” Hannah cried harder. “It was the last one, I found it on the clearance rack.”

  Dusty glanced back to where the dog was wiggling and squirming to get free from Tim’s tight hold around its body. The animal’s legs were spread wide as it kicked and pawed in every direction. Tim hauled the animal over to an empty carry case and pushed her into it headfirst and latched the box closed.

  Angel began to revolt, barking and scratching at the sides of the box. Hearing her pet’s cry for help, Mikayla left the young woman’s side and kneeled beside the box.

  She attempted to comfort Angel with shushing noises. Seeing it was not working, she sighed. “Sorry, baby, but you brought this on yourself.”

  Meanwhile, Tim had circled back around and replaced Mikayla, wrapping his arm around Hannah’s shoulder in an attempt to console her over the loss of her new dress.

  Between the howling animals and the crying receptionist, Dusty had had enough. He walked over to the woman kneeling beside the cage and offered his hand to bring her to her feet. Mikayla accepted the helping hand, and as she stood she came eye-to-eye with the doctor.

  Dusty forgot his train of thought. His staff, the barking dogs, everything fell away. All he could focus on were eyes the color of September’s fall leaves just as they began to turn that rich, deep brown. There was aged knowledge in those eyes that did not go with the beautiful, youthful face in which they were contained. She was what the elders called an old soul. A person wise beyond their years, and he was curious to know what had given such a beautiful young woman such sad eyes.

  Feeling her tug, he realized he was still holding her hand and quickly released it.

  He cleared his throat and put on his professional voice. “Hello, I’m Dr. Dusty Warren.” He introduced himself to the woman.

  “Mikayla Shroeder.” She smiled. “Sorry to cause your staff so much trouble, but I guess you can see why we’re here.” She gestured to the dog. “This is Angel, and as you can see she is in desperate need of some training, and I was told you’re the best.”

  Dusty smiled. “You’ve certainly come to the right place. Tim, please put the dog in room three.”

  But Tim and Hannah had their heads bent together, talking in whispers. Rather than call him again, Dusty pushed the wheeled case himself. “This way.” He gestured for Mikayla to go ahead of him.

  “I apologize again. I don’t know what got into her.” Mikayla was speaking over her shoulder as she moved back into the main hospital.

  “Well, let’s go find out, shall we?” Dusty struggled to keep his head up and avoid looking at those form-fitting jeans and how they moved with her body.

  “I think you may have accidentally done Tim a good service,” Dusty said, closing the door behind him. “That dress was for Hannah’s date with a new guy.”

  “Aaahhh,” Mikayla said. “With Tim being the old guy, I presume?”

  “Exactly.”

  Dusty parked the case by the table, and Angel was sitting quietly inside, having accepted her temporary fate. Dusty reached over to the wall and took down a leash.

  He opened the cage and hooked the leash to her collar before Angel even realized what he was doing. But once the collar was attached she began bouncing around inside. Even with her standing a few feet away, Dusty could feel the tension in Mikayla.

  Once the dog was out of the cage and climbing all over Dusty, Mikayla released a breath she’d been holding.

  “She likes you.” The slight surprise in Mikayla’s voice indicated that this was not typically the case.

  Dusty pushed Angel back down on her bottom and began trying to examine her, while she continued to climb on him, attempting to put her paws over his shoulders. All of a sudden her busy motion stopped and she sat down on her rump, tail wagging, but beyond that she was calm.

  Dusty looked at the dog and was surprised to see her just watching him in silence. “She seems in good health.”

  After much resistance, he managed to get her mouth open and looked at her teeth. “What is she, about six? Six and a half?”

  “I think so.”

  He glanced at Mikayla and looked away. What a beauty, he thought, trying to keep his mind on the dog.

  He knew about the author and motivational speaker, Mikayla Shroeder. Who didn’t? In fact, he’d read her first book a few years ago. He’d picked it up at the airport, just wanting something to read on the plane while traveling to a veterinarian conference in Portland, Oregon, not realizing at the time that it was Christian inspirational non
fiction. The book, Reclaiming Your Soul, had been a national bestseller within weeks of coming out, and launched the formerly unknown author into instant superstardom. That day in the airport, he had wanted to see what all the fuss was about. In fact, as far as he knew the book was still selling in record volumes.

  Surprisingly, he’d enjoyed reading it at the time, but he had given little thought to the author, and what thought he’d given had not come anywhere close to the gorgeous, young woman standing in his office.

  She’d only written the one book that he knew of, but nowadays you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing a promotion for one of her upcoming seminars.

  He’d assumed she was older. Much older. Why, he wasn’t sure, just something about the way she wrote spoke of a maturity beyond her years. He thought about the book he’d read and didn’t think there’d been an author photo along with the brief bio.

  He was so occupied by his thoughts of Mikayla that what came next took him by surprise. Angel sprang at him in joyful delight, all two hundred pounds of her, and together they hit the floor with Dusty on the bottom.

  Before he knew what had happened, Angel was standing on his chest, smiling down at him. She barked once, a loud, happy bark as if to declare she’d won.

  “Angel!” Mikayla was pulling on the leash, trying to get the dog off him, but Dusty was more successful in just pushing her to the side and climbing to his feet. Except for a bruised ego, he was none the worse off.

  “Bad girl!” Mikayla was scolding her, even as she petted her head. Dusty wondered if she understood how contradictory her actions were.

  He dusted himself off. “You shouldn’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “You’re disciplining her with words, but rewarding her with action.” He motioned to where her hand was running over the dog’s head. Angel’s tail wagged as she enjoyed the petting.

  Mikayla looked down at her hand as if it had taken on a life of it’s own. “I hadn’t even realized it.” She snatched back her hand. “It’s just habit.”

  Dusty glanced down at the dog who was once again sitting, this time at her master’s side, her tail still wagging happily.

  Dusty thought he better lay down the ground rules now. He’d seen this before. People who could not bear the idea of being apart from their pets for any amount of time. Just watching her behavior with the dog, Dusty thought Mikayla Shroeder might be one of those people.

  “Ms. Shroeder—”

  “Mikayla.”

  “Mikayla, you need to understand that my training methods are different from others. If I accept Angel as a client, she has to stay here with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “For how long?”

  “Eight weeks.”

  “Eight weeks? Why so long?”

  He braced his weight against the examination table and folded his arms across his chest. “What I do is less training and more deprogramming. I need to be her complete focus for a while. After two weeks, you can come visit her and then after that I need you to come in once a week for training.”

  “What kind of training?” she asked.

  “You have to understand that Angel is half the problem. You’re the other half. Your behavior toward her has to change as much as her behavior toward you.”

  She glanced down at her dog, who gazed up at her with adoring eyes. “I don’t know about this. Eight weeks is a long time. We haven’t been separated that long, since…I just don’t know.”

  Dusty caught the pause, but said nothing. Most people who came to him never went through with the program for this very reason. They did not want to be separated from their pet for such an extended amount of time. But separating them was the only way to get the dog’s complete attention, and getting the dog’s complete attention was the way to retrain them.

  “I tell you what.” He walked over to her and took Angel’s leash. “How about I give you a tour of the hospital and training facility and then you make up your mind?”

  Chapter 3

  Dusty led her down a series of hallways, pointing out the various rooms to her, showing her the hospital was a lot bigger than it looked from the entrance.

  “We are a full-service hospital and can accommodate up to twenty-five patients overnight.”

  “Are you the only doctor?”

  “Yes. I do allow other local vets to use the facility on occasion. We have two operating rooms, both are state-of-the-art in their components.”

  The pride in his voice was evident as he guided her around his hospital, and Mikayla couldn’t help but be impressed by the place and the man.

  They reached the back entrance where a set of automated double doors led to the emergency entrance. As they walked out of the back entrance it was like they were walking into another world.

  From the front entrance the Warren ranch looked like a comfortable tract of land, big enough to hold the hospital and make a kennel, but behind the hospital its secret was revealed. The place was huge.

  She stood on a slight incline overlooking acre after acre of green, open fields. In the distance, she could see another tall two-level building, made of the same light brick that the hospital was made of. Beside the two-story building was a smaller building that Mikayla could not quite make out from the distance.

  He gestured to two golf carts sitting nearby. “If you want we can take one of the carts, but if you don’t mind I would rather walk.” He gestured to Angel, whom he still held by the leash. “Give her a chance to burn off some of that energy.”

  As if sensing the possibility, Angel was pulling at the leash, straining to get out in the open field.

  “Lead the way,” Mikayla said, and they headed across the field.

  The more she saw, the more impressed Mikayla became. On one edge sat a stable and barn. Several horses pranced and stood in the gigantic pen just outside it. On the opposite end sat a large, three-story brick house.

  Once they started walking, Angel stopped pulling at the leash and skipped along, sniffing at various things in the grass and taking in her surroundings. It didn’t escape Mikayla’s notice that Dusty seemed to have her pet well in hand.

  Maybe, she thought, his way of doing things, keeping Angel on the ranch for eight weeks, would work. At least, no one had ever tried anything like that before. And she seemed satisfied to stay at his side.

  “Do you board horses here?” she asked, gesturing to the stables.

  “Yes, but we also raise them. I have some of the finest trainers in the country and three young colts, one of which I think could take a title.”

  “Vet, dog trainer and horse breeder. Wow,” she said with a shake of her head. “You’re a busy man.”

  “And you’re a busy lady. I have to confess I’ve read your book.”

  “Oh? What did you think?”

  “It was excellent, very thought provoking. It’s just you seem too young to have such an in-depth understanding of human nature.”

  A brief sadness crossed her eyes, and Dusty regretted his words.

  “Hard times do not have an age limit.” She pointed toward the large house. “Is that your home?”

  He nodded, his attention distracted by Angel who’d gotten wrapped up in the leash. “Yes. I have three dogs of my own, by the way. So along with the dogs in the kennel, Angel will have lots of company and opportunity to interact with other dogs.”

  “That would be good. She doesn’t get that chance very often.”

  Before she realized it, they had reached the training facility. She glanced back up the hill where the hospital sat, still amazed that the large building somehow hid all this from the main road.

  Dusty introduced her to the staff of trainers and gave her an overview of what a typical day would be like for Angel. He showed her the area she would be kept in, and Mikayla had to admit that as far as kennels went, this was quite elegant, with padded floors and more toys than Angel could ever play with.

  Outside, she was shown the large play area where several dogs
lounged, enjoying the sun.

  “Most of the dogs spend the majority of their time outside, so don’t think she will be sitting in a kennel all day.”

  She shook her head. “No, I didn’t think that. You have a great place here and I’m sure she would be fine. It’s just we’ve never been apart for very long periods of time.”

  Dusty stopped walking and turned to face her. “Mikayla, I can help Angel, but you’re going to have to trust me. I know eight weeks seems like a long time, but it’s the minimal amount of time necessary to deprogram her bad behavior.”

  Mikayla glanced around once more, and could find no fault with the ranch. She looked at Dusty and could find no fault with the man. “Okay.” She nodded.

  She bent to Angel’s level, and the dog pulled on the leash to get to her. “I wish you could understand that I am not abandoning you.” She kissed the dog’s furry head and fought back the tears.

  “I’ll take good care of her. You can come see her in two weeks.”

  She stood. “I know.”

  “Let me take her inside to Sam and I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded and looked away as Dusty led Angel back inside. At the door the dog stopped and looked back at her, expecting Mikayla to follow, and when she did not, Angel turned to go back to her, prompting Dusty to tug on her leash.

  The dog finally surrendered and followed the man inside. Once they were out of sight, Mikayla walked to the six-foot fence surrounding the play area and released the tears she’d been holding back.

  She knew her behavior would seem extreme to Dr. Warren or anyone there. After all, they would only be separated for eight weeks. But no one else understood what this separation meant. It wasn’t just a few weeks apart, it was a broken promise.

  Only one other soul in the world knew the truth, that the relationship between her and Angel went deeper than just owner and pet. They were best friends. Not only friends, they were each others saviors.

  On the worst night of her life, five years ago, as she lay bleeding to death in a deserted alley, she’d made a promise to the stray dog that rescued her from her attacker. The dog, even after the attack was over, stood over her wounded body like a sentinel, watching, guarding from all comers.

 

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