Major shrugged. “It was worth a try. I’ll have to rearrange my schedule is all. Or have Lucy rearrange it.” He looked toward the receptionist’s desk and winked at her.
Lucy, who had worked for Bob and his partner, Hap Shelley, for several years, rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”
Bob laughed. “I’ll see you Friday.”
“On call only, right? We’re officially closed for New Year’s, Hap told me.”
“True, but we’ve got some inpatients you’ll need to treat, and there are always a few emergency calls.”
“Right. I’ll be here.” Rick nodded at Lucy and escaped. The drive home to Wasilla would take a good forty-five minutes. He disliked the commute, which would probably get harder as winter went on. Why had he ever agreed to do two days a week in Anchorage? He’d left full-time practice with Far North a year ago, but the other two doctors insisted they still needed him to man the clinic some of the time. Rick had agreed to continue working one day a week in Anchorage and opened his small veterinary practice in Wasilla. He’d reasoned that he might not have enough business to support him up there and should keep the ties to the larger practice strong in case his new venture didn’t work out.
Talk about underestimation. Despite the fact that several other veterinarians worked in the area, he’d soon found that he couldn’t handle all the business waiting for him in the Mat-Su Valley if he’d cloned himself. But Bob had pleaded with him a month ago to add a second day to his weekly commitment at the Anchorage clinic. Rick had reluctantly agreed. Now Bob wanted him to cover on extra days.
Rick slid behind the wheel of his pickup, thankful he’d had the courage to refuse. The way things were going, they’d soon try to draw him back into the Anchorage practice full time. Bob and Hap had already hinted that they’d started looking for a new partner to replace Bob when he retired. It would be a secure position for Rick, and a better income. He could move back to Anchorage and not have to drive so far. In the city, most of the patients came to him. In the valley, he made as many house calls as office visits. And he wouldn’t be risking his life savings on a new venture.
But every time he drove to the city, Rick found himself a little more certain he didn’t want to do that. He loved his log home on the outskirts of Wasilla. The building he rented in town for his practice wasn’t ideal, but it was adequate. He hoped one day to build a spacious new facility, where he could provide complete services, within a few miles of Iditarod Headquarters. Maybe he’d be the one bringing in a partner. It was a big dream, but at thirty-three, Rick knew what he wanted. His own practice. His own home. Someday, his own family.
He used the first part of the drive to pray for his patients and his work situation then popped in a CD. By the time he reached his driveway, the tension was gone. A slight pang of regret nudged him as he unlocked the door to the empty house. It would be nice to have someone waiting for him. But with his long days on the road, he didn’t feel he could have even a dog at home. He wouldn’t like to neglect one, and he couldn’t see taking one with him to the clinic. Too complicated.
The house was cold. He ran the heat low while he was away from home. A fire in the woodstove tonight might be enough to keep him warm. He’d heard temperatures would fall later in the week, though, to zero or below. He’d have to rely more on the furnace.
After he’d gotten the place warmed up and fixed dinner in the microwave, he remembered he’d promised to call Robyn.
She sounded a little breathless when she answered.
“Hi,” Rick said. “Everything okay over there?”
“Yes, thanks. Coco seemed a little better tonight. I rubbed her shoulder for a few minutes when I fed her.”
“Good. How’s Mr. Holland?”
“Well … they’re keeping him tonight and maybe tomorrow. But Mom says the doctor will probably recommend rehabilitation after that. Instead of sending him home, they may put him in a skilled care home for a little while.”
“That may be what’s best for him right now,” Rick said. “I know it’s hard to face, but if he needs therapy, let the professionals help him. Chances are he’ll feel better and be able to do more when he finally comes home than he did before the accident.”
“Maybe.” She sighed. “I’ve been praying all day. I know Grandpa would hate having to go somewhere else. He doesn’t like being away from home anyway, and being in the city would be a double blow for him. Mom thinks the rehab place would be in Anchorage.”
“That’s rough,” Rick said. “I hate to think of you and your mom having to go back and forth a lot. If it’s any help, I’d be happy to give either of you a ride when I’m going that way.”
“Thanks a lot.”
He wished he could put a smile in her voice. Robyn usually presented a sunny attitude. What would cheer her up? One thing came to mind. “Hey, I was asked today if I’d help oversee the ‘dropped dog’ station for the Iditarod in March.”
“Oh, that is so cool. I’d love to get that assignment.”
“You want to help? I can try to get your name on the list of volunteers.”
“Really?” She hesitated. “We always do something during the Iditarod, usually here in the valley. But it would be great to help tend the dogs during the race.”
“Yeah. I always feel bad for mushers who have to drop a dog, but they do get tired or injured sometimes. We’ll give them the best care when they’re flown to Anchorage, until their owners can pick them up again.”
“Let me talk to Mom about it, okay? If she wants to help at one of the checkpoints up here, I should probably stay with her.”
“Just let me know. Can’t guarantee you a spot, but I’ll use what influence I’ll have as a team leader.”
“Thanks.”
She sounded happier now, and Rick hated to end the conversation. Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve, and there’d be a celebration downtown. Should he ask her? People would be out watching the Northern Lights and generally raising a riot. He’d planned to avoid the noisy gathering. Besides, did he really want to stay up that late after a full day making his rounds? He decided not. “Well, I’ll stop in tomorrow and take a look at Coco.”
“Good. Oh, I plan to go with Mom around ten in the morning to see Grandpa.”
“I’ll come earlier. Eight all right?”
“Perfect.”
“Robyn, if you need help with anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, I will. I know you’re busy.”
“Hey, I mean it. And I plan to help out at your race this year, too.”
“Oh, good. I was hoping you would. I tentatively put you down for pre-race vet checks, and we’ll have you evaluate the dogs when they finish, too, if you can do it.”
“Fantastic. I love the way all the people in town help out on race day.”
“Me, too,” she said. “Only three weeks to go. My friend Anna is keeping track of the volunteers, and she said nearly all the spots are filled. It’s always a blessing to see the people come out and help us.”
Rick signed off and settled in his recliner with a book, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Robyn and their conversation. It reaffirmed his decision about Far North Veterinary. They could find another vet. His place was here in Wasilla now.
“Why can’t I just go home?” Grandpa Steve folded his arms across his chest and glared up at his doctor.
“I don’t think you’re ready just yet,” Dr. Mellin said with a smile. She shone her flashlight into Grandpa’s eyes, observing with a frown. “A couple of weeks at rehab will do a lot for you. It’ll give you a chance to regain your strength and balance. We don’t want you to go home and have a fall and wind up back in here.”
Robyn glanced at her mother. Leave it to Grandpa to kick up a fuss, but then, she’d expected that.
“Isn’t there a place here in Wasilla?” Mom asked.
Dr. Mellin straightened and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Will it be a hardship for you if he goes to Anchorage?”
Mom sh
rugged. “Some, but we’ll do whatever we have to. Won’t we, Dad?”
He snorted and refused to meet her gaze.
“Grandpa,” Robyn said, “you’ve got to do what the doctor says. When you get better, then we’ll bring you home.”
“People go into nursing homes and don’t come out.”
Robyn almost laughed at his passionate scowl, but something in her stomach twisted. He mirrored her fear exactly, down to the childish expression.
“Mr. Holland, I’m only recommending this because I think it’s the best course of treatment for you. We can’t keep you here more than another day, given your condition.”
“What does that mean?” His eyebrows pulled together as he looked up at her.
“It means you’re getting better, but you’re not completely well. Your head injury seems to be healing, and in a few days your bruises will go away. But your muscles need some attention. Let us get you the treatment you need and send you home in a couple of weeks in good shape.”
“A couple of weeks? You hear that, Cheryl? I can’t come home for two weeks.”
“That’s my estimate based on what I see today.” Dr. Mellin consulted the chart. “If you behave yourself, that ought to do it. No guarantees though. So … I’ll refer you, and if nothing’s changed for the worse, we’ll release you tomorrow.”
Mom stood. “How will he get to the rehab place?”
“He doesn’t really need an ambulance. If you are able to drive him to Anchorage, it would save the expense. I think he’ll ride fine in a private car for that distance.”
“Mom, I can take him,” Robyn said. “You have to work tomorrow afternoon.”
“I could take the day off. I think I’d like to take him myself, honey.” Mom smiled at her. “No offense, and if you want to come along, that’s fine. I just want to be there to help him get settled.”
“Will I be able wear my own clothes?” Grandpa threw back the covers. “These johnnies are worthless. I want my pajamas.”
Dr. Mellin smiled. “I think they’ll let you wear pajamas, sir. And now you should rest. I’ll pop in this evening to see what you’re up to. Don’t run the nurses ragged today, you hear?”
“Who … me?”
Mom peeled back the blanket and replaced the sheet over Grandpa’s thin legs. “Dad, she’s kidding.”
“Ha.”
Dr. Mellin laughed and headed for the door. “See you later, Mr. Holland.”
“After awhile, crocodile.” He frowned up at his daughter-in-law. “Cheryl, they don’t know how to make apple crisp here.”
“Relax. I brought you some cookies.”
“What about my razor?”
“Yes. Do you want to shave?” Mom asked.
“Not now. What kind of cookies?”
Robyn pulled the plastic container from her tote bag and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Gingersnaps and peanut butter. Mom had a bake-fest last night. Which do you want first?”
“Ginger snaps.” He looked around at the nightstand and spotted a glass of water with a straw in it. “Can you reach my drink?”
Robyn handed it to him.
After the first cookie, Grandpa switched to peanut butter. “How’s Coco doing?” he asked.
“She’s okay. Dr. Baker looked at her yesterday and again this morning. He thinks she’ll be fine.”
Grandpa’s eyebrows shot up. “Rick made two house calls?”
“Well … yes, if you want to get technical.”
“Are we paying him for it?”
“I …” Robyn looked around helplessly at her mother.
“I think Rick stopped in as a neighbor, Dad. Don’t worry about it.”
“But if he’s doing vet stuff, we should pay him.”
“I’ll make a point of asking him to send us a bill,” Mom said.
Grandpa sighed and lay back on his pillows. “I made a big mess, didn’t I? I bet my vet bills are going to be a lot more than Coco’s.”
His eyelids drifted shut, and Robyn glanced at her mother. They’d stopped at the billing office on the way in. Most of this hospital stay would be covered, but they’d learned only seven days of Grandpa’s rehab would be paid for. If he stayed in treatment longer than that, the family would be expected to pay for it.
Mom had leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She looked exhausted. Robyn determined to ask Darby to help her feed in the morning. She needed to be finished early—in time to go with Mom when she moved Grandpa to Anchorage.
three
Darkness had fallen when they returned to the house the next afternoon. Robyn was surprised to see Rick’s pickup in the yard when she drove in.
He ambled around the corner of the house from the direction of the dog lot as she parked. “Hi,” he called. “Need any help?”
“No, thanks,” Mom said. “We don’t have much to carry.”
“How’s Steve?”
“All settled at the nursing home.”
“That’s good. I hope he does well there.” Rick looked at Robyn. “Hope you don’t mind, I went out back and looked at Coco. She seems to have recovered well.”
“I think so, too. I asked Darby to take her out on the leash for a few minutes this morning. I’ll be around tomorrow to work all these lazy dogs.”
Rick smiled and walked with her as she followed Mom into the house. “It’s a big job, getting them all in shape. Especially in this cold weather.”
“Yes. And I have several I hope to sell. They need to be in top condition when the buyers start looking.”
“When will that be?”
Robyn stopped in the living room and faced him. Mom was in the kitchen, out of earshot. “Actually, we have someone coming next week to look at a few of the dogs.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that.”
She took a breath and looked away. “I’m not. He wants breeding stock, and those aren’t the dogs I want to sell right now. But … I may not have a choice.”
“Everything all right?” Quickly he added, “I don’t mean to pry, but if there’s anything I can help with …”
“Things are a little tight financially. But hey, they always are around here.” She pulled out a smile for him.
“I’ve been praying for your family.”
His simple statement comforted her. She’d picked up on a few things he’d said in the past, but he’d never come to the little church her family attended in Wasilla. Grandpa had a bolder nature than she did though. He’d pinned Rick down verbally once while he was examining a new litter of puppies. Robyn wished she’d been there. Grandpa had told her later that Rick shared their faith. Actually, Grandpa’s exact words were, “Just what we need. A vet who knows his Bible and his medical books.”
“Thank you. Pray that we’ll have what’s needed for Grandpa’s care, and that he’ll be ready to come home soon, so we don’t have to pay too much.”
“How long will he need physical therapy?”
“The doctor estimated two weeks—which is more than he’s covered for.”
Rick nodded. “Got it. I’ll be praying about the race, too. It’s not that far away, and I know your grandfather usually helps a lot with that.”
“Three weeks.” Robyn caught her lower lip between her teeth.
“Are you nervous about it?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how we’ll do. There’s a meeting next Saturday for all the volunteers. If you’re busy, it’s okay.”
“I’ll be there. What time?”
“Ten o’clock, at Iditarod Headquarters. They’re letting us use the meeting room.”
“Nice.”
She nodded. “Mom is helping a lot, but it’s been tough since my dad died. Grandpa and I do most of the race preparation, and we get friends to help. My brother and his wife plan to come the week of the race. Aven’s terrific. He’ll do all the last-minute heavy work. Ormand Lesley is our race marshal. He does a lot of work, too. And we’ve got people organizing the mushers’ drop bags and communications a
nd—oh, a thousand other things.”
“Even a race of this scale is a ton of work, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. But we’ve done whatever we had to in order to keep it going these last few years. The success of the Fire & Ice is important to our business.”
“I thought it might be. I’m happy to volunteer my services for the day.”
“I’ll give you the toughest duties.”
He grinned. “That’s what I want. Let me at it. And if the route will allow me to do the check-in exams and then go off to another spot farther down the line, I’ll do it. I know the teams loop around and come back to the start, but I might be able to help someplace else for a few hours. Whatever you need.”
“That’s terrific. I’ll take you up on it.” She stood for a moment, looking up into his gleaming eyes. Rick Baker could surely give a girl ideas.
“Hey, let me help you feed the dogs tonight,” he said.
“Really? You don’t need to.”
“I know. I want to. You’ve been gone all day, and I’ll bet you’re tired.”
“Okay, you asked for it. I’ve got meat in the refrigerator. The rest of it’s out in the barn.”
She led him into the kitchen. Mom bent over a base cabinet and pulled out a frying pan. “Feel like a grilled cheese sandwich, Robyn?”
“Sure. Thanks. Dr. Baker’s going to help me feed the mutts, so it won’t take long.”
“Rick, have you had supper?” Mom asked. “It’s not fancy, but I can make a few extra sandwiches without any trouble.”
“Well …” He eyed her with his eyebrows arched.
“Why not?” Robyn asked. “You’ll be earning your keep.”
He laughed. “All right. Thank you, Mrs. Holland.”
“It’s Cheryl. And thank you. I think Robyn and I are both frazzled tonight.”
A note was tacked to the door of the shed they referred to as the “the barn.”
Happy New Year! I cuddled the puppies for a bit and cleaned out their pen. See you tomorrow.
Fire and Ice Page 3
