The woman’s eyes widened. “Uh—Look, I just got the kitten to entertain my kids. I didn’t think it would cost an arm and a leg to keep it. As it is, I can barely afford the food and the litter. There’s no way I can pay three hundred dollars to get shots and have surgery done.”
“I understand it’s expensive, but you don’t want a pet around your children who hasn’t had its shots. Some diseases can be transferred from pet to human. Not many, but they do exist. And you don’t want your children to grow attached to a pet who may die because it wasn’t protected from distemper or feline leukemia.”
The woman shook her head. “I can’t do it. Three hundred dollars could feed my kids, or pay their doctor bills.”
“There is a pet care plan that will pay for the surgery and you make payments by the month. We could do just the shots, then next month you can bring her back for the surgery, although you’ll need to watch her carefully in the meantime. If the hernia strangulates, she’ll start throwing up and be off her water and food, possibly run a fever. You’ll have to bring her in as quickly as possible. Without care, she could die.”
The woman reached out to touch the gray tabby. She was already tearing up. “Could you find her a home with someone who can afford to take care of her?”
If Mrs. Taylor refused and dropped her at a shelter because she already needed treatment, they’d put her down.
Piper stifled a sigh. “Are you sure you can’t make payments on her treatment, Mrs. Taylor? She’s a beautiful kitten, lively, healthy except for the hernia. She’ll make a good pet for your family. And kittens and cats are very independent and don’t require as much care as other pets. Once she gets past this rough patch, she’ll be okay. Then you just have to get her annual shots.”
“I can’t do it. We’re barely squeaking by as it is. Just paying for this office visit—” She cut off what she was about to say, her cheeks flaring with color.
“I understand, Mrs. Taylor.” Piper counted to ten. “I’ll keep her until I can find her a home.”
“You’ll take care of her?” Relief flooded the woman’s face.
“Yes, I’ll take care of her. We’ll repair the hernia and find her a foster home until she can be adopted.”
The woman’s eyes were glassy with tears. She laid a hand on the kitten while she climbed Piper’s lab coat again and cuddled under her chin. “I’m sorry.”
Piper didn’t know if she was apologizing to her or the cat. “I am, too, Mrs. Taylor. I hope the children don’t take it too hard.”
Mrs. Taylor nodded, gathered her purse and the diaper bag, and bolted from the room as if afraid Piper might change her mind.
Later, despite her tears, she’d be relieved to have gotten out from under the care of a pet she couldn’t afford. The woman’s fifty-dollar office visit fee would pay for the shots and the kitten’s food, but not the cost of the surgery Piper would have to perform before the kitten could be adopted.
Why did people take on the responsibility of a pet when they knew beforehand they couldn’t afford it?
And why was she such a soft touch? Dammit! They’d find a home for the kitten eventually, but until then… She had to harden her heart, grow a thicker skin. Every time she did this kind of thing, it cost their practice money. The kitten purred against her face while she petted it.
Sherry Sams, their receptionist, rushed in, her normally rosy-cheeked face white. “There’s a man in the waiting room with a bleeding dog. He said he hit it with his car and it’s a military war dog. Its leg is…barely hanging on.” Sherry’s complexion turned a little green.
“Here,” Piper handed her the kitten. “Put her in one of the crates. I’ll be giving her shots and performing hernia surgery on Wednesday morning. I’ll do the paperwork later.”
Piper rushed out into the large waiting room. The L-shaped seating area, with its long row of wooden, cushion-covered benches, was crowded with customers. She focused first on the red-haired man holding the injured animal wrapped in a blanket and nearly stumbled over her own feet as he heart jolted with recognition, then fear. David. It couldn’t be him. He was… He’d been gone for almost seven years, and shouldn’t be out of jail for another year.
She caught her breath and took two long strides, intent on reaching the dog. Then the man turned his head and his eyes settled on her.
The resemblance had been a trick of the light or her imagination. She knew David was in prison. She had no reason to be afraid. But her heart was still beating high in her throat, and she was having trouble breathing. She concentrated on the man in front of her, searching for the differences between him and David. And there were plenty.
The man’s wide, square-jawed face was tense with concern. She’d have known he was military even if he hadn’t been dressed in desert camouflage. The way he stood, the sharp way he focused in on her, underscored the rest. His auburn hair needed a trim. It rolled over his forehead in out-of-control waves and curled around his ears. And his biceps bulged from holding the weight of the dog.
She motioned to him. “Come this way.”
He fell in behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder, noticed his limp, and asked, “Are you hurt?”
“It’s a previous injury. I’ve already been checked out.”
Instead of leading him into an examining room, she took him straight back to the surgery. The dog yelped when the man laid it down on the metal table.
“I tried to stabilize the limb as best I could, and I’ve clamped the vessel that was torn by the break. She was bleeding out.” He folded back the blanket. The limb was wrapped in gauze holding a metal clamp in place, a tongue depressor keeping the limb stationary.
Battlefield medicine at its best. He had to be a medic. Who else would have a clamp handy? “How long has it been since you hit her?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
Shit! She had to get the blood supply reestablished to the limb as quickly as possible, or the dog would lose it. But she also had to see what other damage might have been done by the car. Opening a drawer, she reached for a muzzle.
Though the dog growled, she allowed her to place the device over her face and secure it.
“She’ll need X-rays.” And Kathy hadn’t come in yet, since surgery for the day had been canceled.
“Let’s do it.”
“Are you assuming responsibility for her treatment?” she asked.
“Yes, I hit her. She’s a WMD. You have to do something.” The way he bit out his words, as though he couldn’t get them out fast enough, spoke of his anxiety. “They spend upwards of twenty thousand or more to breed, raise and train these animals. They save lives. Do whatever you have to save hers.”
“Okay. Will you lift her so I can remove the blanket?”
“Sure.” He did so effortlessly while she slid the fabric free.
Easing the dog back down on the table, he said, “You need to scan her for a chip. If she’s retired, she’ll have been chipped and assigned to whoever adopted her.”
“First things first, Mr.—” She handed him the bloody blanket and went to the sink to wash her hands and put on gloves.
“O’Connor. Ensign Zach O’Connor.” He ran a large hand over the dog’s head and ears, soothing her. With his long hair and scruff, he didn’t look as military as most enlisted personnel she’d dealt with. It had been his curling tumble of red hair that triggered her moment of heart-stopping fear mixed with… Yes, she’d felt pain and panick at the thought of seeing him again. She was still paying for what he’d done to her, done to her family.
Had this man been freshly shaven and his hair cut, would she have mistaken him for David? No. His features were more masculine, the look in his eye focused and sharp. David had never looked that directly at anything. He’d been a charming con artist. A liar. A criminal. Worse.
Piper did a quick but thorough examination of the dog, looking into her eyes and ears. Her lungs sounded clear, her heartbeat fast and thready. She ran her hands over h
er, neck, body and legs, in search of any other injuries. She palpated her abdomen to see if the stomach or bladder had been affected.
The dog watched her every move but didn’t react to anything other than her careful exam of her leg. She cut the wrappings from around the limb to get a good look at the injury. At the dog’s high yip of pain and instinctive jerk, Piper pulled back.
Zach caught her in mid-lunge and restrained the action. “I’ve got her, Doc.”
“Thanks.” For a moment, she looked directly into his face. No, there was nothing there to remind her of David except the color of his hair. She had to block this out and concentrate on the Malinois.
Piper ran a soothing hand over the animal’s brown and black coat. She appeared well cared for and nourished, and she had on a collar, but no tag.
“Ensign O’Connor.” She swung the X-ray machine over the table. “I’m going to take X-rays of her pelvic region and her legs. You’ll need to leave.”
She went to the phone on the wall and asked Sherry to call Kathy, her vet tech to come in, and send in Tony, one of their assistants, to help. Kathy was with a patient and would be in ASAP.
Tony Chaffey appeared at the door. A college student of eighteen, he dressed in jeans and T-shirts with a white, hip-length lab coat over his clothes. He hadn’t bothered to button the lab coat. As soon as he entered the room the dog struggled to rise and would have lunged off the table, damaged leg or not, had Ensign O’Connor not grabbed her and looped an arm around her chest. “Ease down, honey. It’s all right.”
The dog was having none of it. She had fixated on Tony and was growling, her eyes, ears, and posture displaying a visceral aggression. Even muzzled, she projected seventy pounds of lethal muscular intent.
Tony froze, arms fanned out, showing he was not a threat.
“Move out. I’ve got this,” Zach said. At the note of command in the man’s voice, the kid’s eyes, already wide, flashed open even bigger. He disappeared back into the hall.
“We don’t usually allow owners back here.”
“I’m not her owner. And if I’m authorized to volunteer at the naval medical facilities wherever I’m deployed, I can hold her so you can do the X-rays.”
Piper ran through the liability issues of allowing a nonemployee to be exposed to the limited amount of radiation and conceded. The dog remained calm while he was with her, and she might do more damage to the leg if she thrashed around. And Piper didn’t want to have to sedate her for the X-rays.
“Come on, Doc. Time’s a’wasting.” He urged the dog back onto her side.
She handed him a lead-lined apron to cover him from neck to mid-thigh. “Try and keep her on her side. We’ll roll her onto her back next, then over to the other side. I need to check for broken bones and other issues.”
“Got it.” He put on the apron and rubber gloves as though he’d done it often.
Working quickly, Piper took several films, the ensign as skillful and efficient as any of the vet techs and assistants they employed. She pulled off her latex gloves and went to the computer to pull up the X-rays. Her heart sank as she studied the images on the screen. She rolled the machine on its stand, close to the table so she could show O’Connor the images.
He pulled off the latex gloves and moved in close beside her. Heat radiated from his body down her right side, and he briefly rested a hand against the small of her back in a gesture she was sure was unconscious. “Shit, the hip’s broken, too,” he murmured, regret in his tone. “I was hoping it was just dislocated.”
“Yes. We can put pins in to hold it in place until it heals so she’ll be able to move around with little pain, but the leg…” It was badly broken, the end splintered above the joint.
“I can see it for myself.” He swallowed and shook his head. “She was running full out. I knew when I hit her it was bad. Jesus!” He rested a hand against his forehead, and his lips compressed. When he dropped his hand, his green eyes found her face. “If she’s not retired already, she will be now. Do whatever you can to get her ambulatory. If you have to take the leg…” His expression went flat, controlled. “Even on three legs she’ll be a good dog.”
“I’ll do what I can.” She pointed out a small, rectangular shape on the screen. She does have a chip. We’ll scan it and find out who she belongs to.”
“Good.”
The intercom buzzed and Sherry spoke to her. “There are two policemen in the waiting area. They’ve asked to speak to Ensign O’Connor.”
Piper’s brows jerked up.
“I called to report the guy she was chasing. He had a stocking mask over his face.”
“So he was up to no good.”
His features tightened with anger. “These dogs don’t attack unless they’ve been ordered to. The son of bitch skimmed past my bumper with half a second’s grace with her on his tail. She wasn’t as lucky. It was the only way he would have been able to shake her.”
“Give your contact information to one of the receptionists at the desk, and you’ll need to sign a form giving me permission to operate. I’ll be taking her into surgery immediately, and will give you a call as soon as I’ve finished to let you know how she’s doing. And we’ll scan the chip and see who her owner is.”
She moved to the intercom and, with the dog’s reaction to Tony in mind, asked for Jasmine and Barbara to come back to the surgery.
Ensign O’Connor offered his hand. “Thanks, Doctor…” He tilted his head and offered her a subdued smile that looked very white compared to the rust-colored beard surrounding it.
“Dr. Bertinelli.”
He shook her hand. “First name?”
Piper hesitated. “Francesca, but everyone calls me Piper.”
His smile widened into a grin, and with it his strong features transformed from tough to charming. She felt the potent charm of that smile hit her in the chest, the pit of her stomach, and lower. He was very masculine despite his boyish freckles and red hair. The resemblance to David was even less pronounced with the self-assured cockiness this man projected.
‘The Pied Piper of animals, huh?”
Surprised he’d guessed, she nodded. “So they tell me.”
Barbara came in and immediately went to the dog. She spoke soothingly to the Malinois and earned a weak tail wag. Ensign O’Connor stepped away from the animal to give her more room, but hovered, obviously reluctant to leave.
“She’s going to be fine, Ensign. We’ll take good care of her.”
The way he focused on her once again gave her a jittery feeling in the pit of her stomach. He nodded. “Call me Zach. Piper suits you. I’ll go deal with the cops while you deal with this.”
Piper nodded.
He removed the apron and handed it to her. “I’ll call back in a couple of hours to see how things are going.”
“That will be fine.”
When he limped out, he seemed to take most of the energy in the room with him.
She dragged her attention away from him to the injured animal lying on the stainless steel table while she reached for the cell phone in her pocket. Dr. Dorsey, the senior veterinarian in their practice, would want to observe this one. She called the front desk. “Sherry, page Dr. Dorsey to surgery and tell him we’ve had an emergency case come in. I’ll be starting the surgery ASAP.” She hung up.
“Jasmine, scan for the chip. I want to know who her owner is.” She breathed a sigh of relief when Kathy rushed into the room. “Set her up for surgery, Kathy.” She went through the dog’s injuries. “I’m going to repair her hip and try to save her leg.”
Chapter 3
‡
Zach experienced a quick rush of blood to places south when he thought about how Piper Bertinelli’s cheeks colored when he smiled at her. He’d breathed in the light scent of flowers as she stood next to him reading the X-ray, and her hair was tinted with just enough red to warm the brown and make her olive skin seem pale in comparison. He’d felt the punch of attraction to his toes when her eyes, a rich ma
hogany brown with gold around the iris, looked directly into his. If they hadn’t been dealing with an emergency situation… He’d save the rest of his impressions to think about later, after he dealt with the police.
He spent a moment in the pint-sized restroom scrubbing the latex smell from his hands, his actions sharp and quick as his anger returned. What a waste. Because of some asshole, the dog would probably lose her leg.
If she were his dog, he’d be out looking for her. They really needed the info from her chip. He dried his hands with a paper towel, glad they’d elected to go old school and forgo one of those damn blow dryers that made the air muggy and still didn’t dry your hands.
When he came out of the restroom, the two police officers were standing at the desk waiting. He greeted them with, “Ensign Zach O’Connor,” and shook their hands. He turned to the receptionist he’d spoken to on arriving. “If you can get the paperwork started for me while I talk to these fellows, I’d appreciate it.”
She smiled at him. “It will be ready for you as soon as you finish.”
“Thanks.” He nodded to the two police officers. “Would you like to go outside and discuss this in private?”
“Yes, sir.” The taller of the two answered.
Zach led the way. Now the adrenaline had leached off, his hip ached with every step. He stood under the shaded eave of the front entrance and leaned back against the side of the building.
“I’m Officer Harrison, and this is my partner Officer Morgan,” the taller of the two said.
Had he ever been that young? They looked like Cub Scouts. When did the police start recruiting from junior high? Morgan looked a shade wetter behind the ears than Harrison, but faced with their close-cropped, military haircuts and freshly-shaven faces, Zach felt scruffy and old.
“The dog has a chip. You’ll be able to trace the owner through it. If you know who she belongs to, you may be able to discover where the guy I saw was running from.”
“We already know, sir.” Harrison’s grave expression didn’t bode well. “Her owner was attacked. His neighbor discovered him in his yard. He’d been beaten. He’s in the hospital and stable, but hasn’t regained consciousness.”
Breaking Out (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 6) Page 3
