“I’ll hold you to it.”
He picked up his fork and took a bite of cake to keep from saying anything else. Despite its appearance, the cake tasted pretty good. Chocolate had always been his favorite, and his mother had gone out of her way to make it for him and Shane on their birthday when they were growing up.
“Speaking of work, did Shane talk to you last month at the wedding about his plans?”
Mason glanced from his sister, who’d posed the question, to Shane. “What plans?”
Shane glared at Raine. Clearly, it wasn’t something he’d wanted to discuss, at least not right now. Raine’s brows rose, and she looked contrite, as if she’d realized she’d once again opened her mouth and said something she shouldn’t have. It had been a lifelong habit.
Shane shifted in his seat, but met his brother’s gaze. “I bought the Cramer place shortly before the wedding.” He glanced quickly at his wife. “Alley’s grandpa still lives there, but he’s done with the horse business. We’re getting his last crop of two-year-olds ready to race this fall, and hopefully sold.”
Mason smiled and pointed his fork at Alley. “And you got the girl in the deal.”
Shane’s hand reached up to cover Alley’s, which rested on the table. A tender look of love passed between the couple. “Yeah, I got the girl in the deal.”
“What are you planning to do with the farm, then? I suppose Taggart Ranch can always use more pastureland.”
Shane nodded. “Yes, a few more pastures never hurt, but I bought that place primarily for its location.”
Mason shrugged. “Yeah, good location, since it borders Taggart Ranch.” Why would Raine make an apparent big deal out of this particular business transaction? Shane made deals that benefitted the ranch all the time, and none of them came with the kind of fanfare his sister made this one out to be.
“I bought it with a different purpose in mind than a horse farm,” Shane continued. He glanced around the table, his eyes once again resting on Raine with a displeased look. “I think it’s a great location for a large animal veterinary practice to expand Doc Johnson’s place in town. I mentioned it to him, and he seemed excited about the idea.”
Mason swallowed the bite of cake in his mouth. He nearly choked, and reached for the cup of coffee next to his plate to wash the food down his gullet. His body tensed for a brief moment, then he forced a smile.
“Sounds like the old doc isn’t ready to retire, then. Good for him. He’s like an icon in this community.” He rested his gaze on his brother again. “And you’re right. Cramer Farm is in a great location.”
“So, you’re in agreement and are going to take over once the clinic is built?” Raine asked with great enthusiasm and a note of surprise in her voice.
Mason’s brows shot up. Once again, he darted looks from his sister to his brother. When they fell on Shane, his eyes narrowed. He shook his head.
“Wait a second. I never said anything about taking over.”
“But you were going to step in and take Doc Johnson’s place anyway. You’ve been his associate since you graduated. He felt you were more than ready to take the reins and was all set to retire, right before –”
Raine stopped in mid-sentence. For once, she must have realized that she’d said too much.
Mason’s jaw clenched. Anger ripped through him every time he thought about the unfortunate turn of events in his life. He’d been more than ready and willing to assume the role of Burnt River’s resident veterinarian, but now?
How could anyone think that he could continue in his chosen career? He was a cripple. It was impossible for him to even consider going back to practicing veterinary medicine. Being in a wheelchair made it impossible.
Everything he’d worked for, and dreamed of, for as long as he could remember, had all been taken away from him in the span of a few seconds. One unfortunate accident had cost him everything.
Mason plastered a smile on his face. “I think this is a bit sudden, don’t you think? I still have some rehab to think about before I decide when I’m going to go back to work.”
It was his standard answer, a safe answer. He wasn’t going to get angry with his family or let them see how much he hated what had happened to him. His brother had enough guilt over it. Not that he should. It wasn’t Shane’s fault that the young colt hadn’t been sedated enough and had panicked. Mason had already accepted full responsibility. It was part of the risk in his line of work. A line of work he’d enjoyed, but because of the accident, could never do again.
“I agree.” Shane stood from the table and started gathering plates. “Let’s give Mason some time to settle back into life on the ranch, and he can decide on his own when he’s ready.”
Alley stood and helped her husband carry dishes from the dining room into the kitchen. Maria, the caregiver, wheeled their mother from the room. Only Raine remained seated across from Mason. He was about to move his wheelchair away from the table when his gaze went to his sister. She stared at him with way too much perception in her eyes. Once everyone had left the dining room, she leaned forward on her arms, glaring at him.
“What are you afraid of, Mason?”
Mason flinched. He stared back at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Raine.”
“Yes, you do. For months, you’ve avoided the subject of your career. Every time I’ve come to visit you in Salt Lake, and filled you in on what’s been going on with your patients, or passed along that Doc Johnson asked about you, you’ve always changed the subject.” She leaned in further. “There are ranchers in this community who have waited for you to come back. You’ve built a lot of trust with them.”
Mason gritted his teeth. He raked his fingers through his hair. Damn his little sister for always seeing through her brothers. “I’ve had other things on my mind lately, in case you haven’t noticed. I need to get through all my rehab first before I can decide what I want to do.”
“Don’t take too long to decide, Mason.” Raine stood from her seat, still glaring at him. “Doc Johnson is getting old. He can’t handle the work anymore on his own. He’s not going to wait around for you forever. In fact, he’s hired a new associate to help out until you decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself and quit throwing your entire career down the drain.” She raised her hands in front of her, making air quotes when she said the word “decide.” Her glare intensified, then she spun on her heel, and marched from the room.
Mason stiffened in his seat, staring after her. A jolt of foreboding rushed through him, as if another nail had been pounded in his career coffin. Raine was right. Doc Johnson was getting old, and he’d been looking forward to retirement.
If he’d hired an associate, it meant the work was taking its toll on him. The small animal practice in town would be easier to handle, but Burnt River was a farming and ranching community, and the veterinary practice had always been a mix of large and small animals. Anyone working there would be expected to treat everything from cats and dogs to horses, cattle, and an assortment of other farm animals.
Mason wheeled himself from the dining room. He stopped in the living room to stare out the large windows at the view of the expansive pastures and barns of Taggart Ranch. It was just as well that Doc Johnson had hired a new vet. It made Mason’s decision that he could never go back to practicing veterinary medicine that much easier.
Chapter 2
“Your next patient is waiting in Room Two, Dr. Emerson.”
Lori glanced up from the chart on her desk. Vanessa, the vet tech, stood under the doorframe of the small office, and held out a thick folder. Lori glanced at her over her glasses, then returned her attention to the chart in front of her and flipped the page of the thick volume of the Merck Veterinary Manual.
“I’ll be there shortly.”
The tech cleared her throat. “I think you’d better come now. Mrs. Billings is quite upset, and her little dog, Mr. Bubbles, doesn’t look so good. I took his temperature already, and it’s one-o-three point thr
ee.”
“That’s not unusually high,” Lori mumbled. In fact, for a dog, it was barely a fever. She was in the middle of figuring out the correct initial starting dose of anti-seizure medication for her first patient of the day, and the interruption was breaking her focus. The dog’s body temperature certainly didn’t indicate a life-threatening emergency, and could surely wait a few minutes.
Vanessa set the chart on the desk with a loud thud. “Mrs. Billings is a good client. She loves her dog to distraction. If he wasn’t so sick, she would have preferred to come another day when Dr. Johnson was in the office, but she’s agreed to see you. You should come now and not make her wait.”
Lori stared up at the technician, who seemed to glower at her. Vanessa was at least two decades older than she, and had been with the practice for at least that many years, if not longer. It was best not to get her angry, but at some point Vanessa would have to be told not to overstep her bounds. She wasn’t the doctor, after all, and if Doctor Johnson allowed her to talk like this to him, he had some serious staffing problems. It was always in everyone’s best interest to have a good working relationship with the staff, but they shouldn’t be allowed to call the shots.
“Then I guess I’d better not keep Mrs. Billings waiting.” Lori forced a smile and pushed her chair away from the desk to stand. She grabbed her stethoscope off the table, draping it around her neck, and snatched the chart before marching out of the office. Vanessa moved aside to give her room to pass. Hopefully this office call wouldn’t take long.
A low-grade fever could indicate an infection somewhere. Maybe some bloodwork to rule out any underlying issues, and a prescription of antibiotics would be all that was needed, and she could send the client and her dog on their way. Then she could go back to researching anti-convulsive doses for the beagle she’d admitted earlier for observation.
She inhaled a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Her heart began to pound faster in her chest, and she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.
You’ve got this, Lori.
Diagnosing illness and conditions had been her strong suit in vet school. She was as familiar with textbook cases as she was with the back of her hand. Routine office calls shouldn’t give her this much anxiety.
Lori knocked on Exam Room Two, then entered. To cover up her nervousness, she smiled brightly at the gray-haired, round older woman sitting on one of two chairs in the room. This was the first time since she’d started this position a few days ago that Doctor Johnson was away from the office to do farm and ranch calls.
A Miniature Schnauzer with an impeccable classic Schnauzer clip that would put a Westminster show dog to shame stood on the other chair, slightly hunched over. The little silver-colored pooch’s body shivered uncontrollably. The client, Mrs. Billings, stood and swooped the dog into her arms.
Lori held out her hand. “I’m Dr. Emerson, Doctor Johnson’s new associate.”
Mrs. Billings had her arms full holding her dog. She eyed Lori with a skeptical look, her gaze seemingly drifting over every inch of her in a critical assessment.
“You’re the new vet?” she finally asked. There was no disguising her skepticism. “You’re just a little girl. How old are you?”
Lori bristled. She’d received remarks about her age and youthful appearance before, but no one had ever outright called her a little girl. Her smile widened.
“I’m old enough to have graduated vet school. How about we take a look at Mr. Bubbles?”
“I don’t know.” The old lady hesitated, shaking her head. She turned her body slightly to the side, preventing Lori from touching her pooch. “I usually don’t let anyone but Doc Johnson, or Doctor Taggart, look at my precious boy. Do you know if Mason is coming back to work soon? It’s just terrible what happened to him.”
Lori frowned. Doctor Johnson had told her when he’d hired her that he had another associate, but he’d been in an accident involving a horse, and had sustained a spinal injury that had left him paralyzed. Whether he would be able to return to work with that kind of a handicap was doubtful.
“I’m not sure,” Lori answered vaguely. “But if it will put your mind at ease, I graduated top of my class at Colorado State University, and I assure you, I passed all my boards.” Her cheek muscles hurt while trying to maintain her smile. She looked younger than her twenty-six years, no doubt because she was short in stature and liked to wear her long hair tied back in a ponytail. Maybe she should try putting it up in a bun. That might make her look older and gain her some respect. The glasses didn’t seem to be helping.
Neither the clients nor the staff took her seriously because of her youthful appearance, but other than prove she was capable of the job and projecting confidence that she didn’t feel, especially after what had happened a few months ago during her internship, there was nothing she could do about the way she looked. Lori mentally shook her head and pushed the self-doubt aside.
“I understand Mr. Bubbles has pyrexia and isn’t feeling well. I’d like to take a look at him so we can figure out the cause. You were clearly concerned enough to bring him in for an exam.”
Mrs. Billings stared at her with a blank look on her face. She petted the Miniature Schnauzer’s head, holding the dog’s trembling body in her arms.
“What is pyrexia? It sounds like Mr. Bubbles is going to die.”
Lori shook her head. “I’ll need to do an examination, if you could set him on the table. Vanessa told me he was running a slight fever. That’s all that pyrexia means.” She kept her voice even to calm the old lady.
Mrs. Billings scrutinized her for another long minute, then seemed to have reached a decision. She set the little Schnauzer on the table.
“He’s been throwing up and not feeling well. He wouldn’t even eat the fried chicken I made him for breakfast this morning.”
Lori’s brows rose. “Fried chicken for breakfast?” That could be the problem right there.
“It’s his favorite.” Mrs. Billings beamed. “He won’t eat anything else most days. Unless I give him his fried chicken, he won’t eat his regular dog food that Doc Johnson has told me he needs to eat.”
Lori gave the little shivering dog a pat on the head. The dog had a distended, bloated-looking abdomen and a hunched-over appearance. Clearly, this was not going to be a quick case of prescribing some broad-spectrum antibiotics and sending the client on her way.
She ran her hand down the dog’s stiff back, then pushed on either side of his belly with both hands. The little dog tensed and let out a quiet groan. She checked his gums, his eyes, then held her stethoscope to Mr. Bubbles’ chest. His heart sounded normal, but beat fast. Most likely due to fear and pain.
Lori draped the instrument around her neck when she was done. She glanced up at Mrs. Billings, whose eyes were wide with worry.
“What’s wrong with him? Can you fix him?”
“I’m glad you brought him in. I’m afraid Mr. Bubbles is very ill.”
The old lady’s hand flew to her mouth and she gasped. “Will he die?”
Lori shook her head. “He’s presenting with classic symptoms of pancreatitis. He’s got abdominal distension and pain, a low-grade fever, you told me he’s been vomiting and not wanting to eat. I’m going to have to run some tests, but I’m pretty sure they will confirm my diagnosis.”
Mrs. Billings looked more confused than ever. “What can you do for him?”
“I’d like to start him on an IV drip, and give him some antiemetics to prevent any further vomiting and dehydration. I might also give him some pain medication to make him more comfortable.”
This was a classic clinical case, even though pancreatitis was not always easy to diagnose. Going down the list of symptoms and a treatment plan, just as she’d done in school when presenting cases to her professors, came like second nature. Hopefully she came across with enough confidence and sounding knowledgeable that Mrs. Billings would trust her with the dog’s care.
“We’ll have to keep him here at
least a day or so, and also give his pancreas a chance to rest. That means he won’t be getting anything to eat or drink for at least the next twenty-four hours. I’ll do an x-ray to rule out bloat, and send some bloodwork to the lab to confirm my diagnosis.” Sounding professional should put this pet owner’s mind at ease that she was capable of treating her dog.
“I expect his white blood cells will be outside normal range, and I’m also looking for elevated levels of amylase and lipase in his blood chemistries. There is a newer test available to diagnose pancreatitis in canines, but Doctor Johnson doesn’t have it available. It would have been easy to do an in-house test for pancreas-specific lipase for a definitive diagnosis, but sending bloodwork to the lab will be sufficient. Do you have any questions?”
If anything, Mrs. Billings’ blank stare had only increased. She blinked, and a tear ran down her face. “I don’t want my little Bubbles to die. What you’re telling me sounds horrible.”
Lori continued to smile in reassurance and shook her head. “I don’t think he’s at the stage where his life is in immediate danger, as long as we get started on his treatment. If we hold off, it could potentially become life-threatening.”
The woman began to sob. Lori stared at her. She’d explained the case thoroughly. There shouldn’t be anything to cry about.
“Let me send Vanessa in. She’ll have some paperwork for you to sign. With your permission, I’d like to take Mr. Bubbles to the treatment area and get started.”
Mrs. Billings nodded. She bent forward and gave the dog a hug and a kiss.
“Mama loves you, Bubbles. You’re going to be all better soon,” she crooned.
Lori picked up the dog and turned to leave. She stopped when Mrs. Billings called out.
“When will Doctor Johnson be back?”
Lori stiffened slightly. She plastered her practiced smile back on her face. It was understandable that this woman would be slightly hesitant to allow her to treat her beloved pet. She was new, and to older people, she didn’t look old enough to have graduated high school. It would take some time to gain the trust of the pet owners in this small community.
Mason's Rescue Page 2
