Mason frowned. He certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. Setting the soda can on the counter, he wheeled through the kitchen and down the hall. His eyes widened as he opened the door.
“Hi, Mason.”
“Lori. What are you doing here?”
Mason moved aside to let her enter. His eyes pored over her and his heart sped up at the sight of her. She wore her hair loose rather than how she’d worn it the previous times he’d seen her, in a bun or in a ponytail. Her skirt swooshed around her legs, but she wore sandals instead of high heels.
“I should have called, but I thought it was best to stop by and talk to you in person.”
Mason frowned. Judging by the smug look on her face, he wasn’t going to like what she’d come to talk to him about. Even so, having her here, seeing her rather than simply hearing her voice on the phone, his day had already brightened up. Not that he was going to let her know that.
“I was just grabbing something to drink,” he said lamely.
Lori’s brows shot up. “I hope you’re not drinking again, but it worked pretty well the last time when I had something to ask you, so maybe this could work in my favor again.” She smiled.
Mason grinned. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t make it a habit of getting drunk. The thought sounds mighty appealing sometimes, but I haven’t gone that route just yet.”
He wheeled toward the kitchen to get his soda, and Lori fell in step beside him.
“Well, that’s good to know, because I think I have something much better for you than self-medicating with alcohol.”
Mason’s frown deepened. “Something tells me I’m not going to like it.”
Lori laughed. “I think two weeks is plenty of time for you to think things over, Mason Taggart. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She pulled up a chair and sat, then tossed the large bag that hung from her shoulder onto the kitchen table. She stuck her hand inside it and began rooting around. For a second, it looked like one of those magical, bottomless bags out of the movies that were capable of producing entire sets of furniture and other large objects.
Mason wheeled up beside her, pushing one of the other chairs out of the way.
“Enough time to think what over?” He glared at her.
“Don’t tell me you forgot our talk already? Just because I didn’t bring it up again that day, or haven’t called you to bug you about it, doesn’t mean I’ve given up. I was really hoping you’d call me, or maybe Dr. Johnson.” She sat straighter in her chair and looked him in the eye. “You need to come back to work.”
Mason stared at her. She was back to being the self-confident Lori she portrayed when she wasn’t dealing with potbellied pigs or large thoroughbreds, or thinking about how she’d screwed up during a complicated surgery. She was the girl he’d immediately said yes to when she’d asked him to go with her on farm calls.
He mentally shook his head. He hadn’t said yes. The alcohol had made him do it. Mason braced himself for what she had up her sleeve this time. At least he was prepared to say no. His mind was completely clear.
“No.”
Lori paused. Her gaze went from whatever it was she was digging for in her bag to his face.
“No?” She sighed. “I knew you’d say that, but I have something else that might interest you.”
She pulled out several printed pieces of paper and slid them toward him on the table. Mason frowned at her, then glanced down when she tapped her finger on the papers.
“Have you thought about doing equine therapy, or has anyone brought it up before?”
Mason ran his hand over his face. “Lori, I already told you. I can’t go back to work in a wheelchair, and definitely not to see horses.”
She shook her head. “I’m not talking about horses as patients. You would be the patient.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Equine therapy. Take a look.” She smiled with the kind of enthusiasm that made his head spin just looking at her. If circumstances were different, he’d have asked her out two weeks ago, after he’d held her in his arms.
Mason cursed his stupid predicament again. He’d never shied away from asking a girl he found attractive out on a date. Along with his career, dating was something he couldn’t even think about now. Lori seemed helpful enough as a colleague, but if he asked her out, she’d probably laugh in his face. No. That wasn’t her style. She’d find a polite way to turn him down.
“I was on a farm call with Dr. Johnson a couple days ago.” She glanced up and smiled. “My first one since the day you came with me. I’ve been sticking to the small animals, and some of the clients are actually warming up to me.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Anyway, we went to a farm where they provide horseback riding to disabled children. The more I watched, the more I thought about you.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Mason lifted his soda to his lips and drained the can. Too bad it wasn’t a beer.
“I talked to one of the instructors, who told me riding helps the children with muscle coordination and it speeds up healing, and is great for their mental well-being.”
Mason wheeled away from the table and stared out the window. He gritted his teeth.
“There is nothing wrong with my mental state, Lori,” he growled. “And in case you need to read up on spinal cord injuries, I’m paralyzed. I have zero muscle coordination because I can’t feel a damn thing below my waist.”
Mason pounded his fist against his chair. His voice had risen to near shouting, and his pulse throbbed against his temple as his frustration and anger grew.
Lori came up beside him. She held one of the papers under his nose, and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t claim to know how completely frustrated you must be, Mason, but I’m trying to help.” While he’d yelled at her, she’d remained calm, and her soothing voice tempered the rage inside him.
He raised his head to look up at her. Lori smiled. Her look of concern and caring, combined with the soft hand on his shoulder, did more to muddle his mind than alcohol ever could. There was something far deeper in her gaze than simple caring. Mason blinked and shook his head. He must have misread that look of attraction in her eyes.
“What is this?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from her and looking at the paper. It was a printout from a website, with a picture at the top of a woman dressed in fancy dressage clothes complete with tails and a top hat, doing a half-pass on a gray Warmblood.
“This is Susan Miller, who is paralyzed from the waist down. She was a top-level dressage rider. She thought she would have to give up riding after she had an accident, but her love for the sport and for horses wouldn’t let her quit. That picture was taken only a few weeks ago. If you want to go on the internet, there are videos of her, too.”
Mason stared at the image. Nothing about the rider’s pose indicated she was in any way handicapped. Upon closer inspection, the only difference was the dressage saddle, which had knee flaps that looked to be specially designed to keep her thighs in place.
“Your sister told me that you’re an accomplished rider. Therapeutic riding might be something to look into. It certainly couldn’t hurt, and maybe it might even help your nerves and muscles.”
Mason shook his head. Nothing had helped so far.
“I have to get back to Burnt River. Dr. Johnson gave me an extended lunch, but I have patients to check on. There’s a dog at the clinic with GDV. Dr. Johnson did surgery on him yesterday.”
Mason glanced up at her. “A bloat is serious. I’m glad he made it through surgery.”
Lori nodded. “Me, too,” she whispered. “Dr. Johnson offered it to me, but I told him I’d never done any kind of gastric surgery, and I’d be happy to assist, but not perform the operation. It went well, but I still need to keep a close eye on him for a few days. On top of that, I have to be back in time to draw blood on a pug that I’m testing for Cushings Disease.”
Mason’s brows rose. Clearly,
he was missing out on a lot of interesting cases. “Cushings? Haven’t seen one of those in a while. What are his symptoms?”
“Acute drinking and peeing, to put it in layman’s terms. He might have some underlying kidney disease as well.”
“Have you done a glucose test on him?”
“What for?”
Mason rolled his eyes. Not even a first-year undergrad would ask such a silly question. “To check and see if the dog has an elevated blood sugar level,” he said slowly.
Lori’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re thinking the dog has diabetes?” She shook her head. “He has a distended belly and looks like a classic Cushings dog, Mason.”
Mason grinned. “I’m putting my bets on diabetes.”
She laughed. “You haven’t even seen the patient.”
Mason shrugged. “What do I get if I’m right?” He stopped himself in time from blurting that if he was right about the diagnosis, she’d have to go out with him. He gnashed his teeth. Why would any woman want to go out with a cripple?
Lori shook her head, smiling in disbelief. Mason stared at her. Something fluttered in his gut. She was even prettier when she smiled. Discussing cases with her was refreshing and definitely more fun than sitting around his room all day with his guitar. She was right, of course. He shouldn’t simply make a diagnosis based on symptoms without seeing the animal, but it was enjoyable to disagree with her.
“What do I get if I’m right?” Lori challenged.
“If the dog’s glucose is normal, I’ll look into your equine therapy idea.”
“And what if it’s high?”
Mason tilted his head and stared at her. Here was his chance to ask her out without making it seem like he was asking her out.
“If his glucose is over 600, you have to stop pestering me like my sister.”
Lori laughed. “600? You’re on.”
She pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “Sally, could you ask Vanessa to do a quick in-house glucose check on Fred the Pug? . . . I’ll hold and wait.”
Lori smiled at Mason while she held the phone to her ear. “My patient is not diabetic,” she whispered to him while she waited.
Mason shrugged. He’d blown his chance to ask her out, but it was better this way. It wasn’t fair to put her on the spot like that, even if it turned out he was completely wrong, and the dog did have Cushings rather than diabetes.
Lori’s eyes widened suddenly, holding the phone to her ear, and she stared at Mason. She’d been on hold for several minutes already. “Okay. Thank you, Vanessa. I’ll be back at the clinic within half an hour.” She disconnected the call and shook her head.
“The dog is diabetic,” she murmured.
Mason laughed. He’d made a guess based on symptoms, nothing else.
“He could still have Cushings, too,” he offered. “What was his blood glucose number?”
“578.” Lori still stared at him as if he’d sprouted horns or something. “Why didn’t I think to run a basic test like this in the first place?”
“I’m sure you ordered a full blood panel on top of the Cushings test. At least now it won’t be a surprise when you get the results back in a few days.” He offered a good-natured grin. “Besides, it looks like neither one of us won the bet.” He glanced at the paper he still held in his hand, then back to Lori. “You’d better go see about your patients.”
She smiled quietly and pointed at the paper. “Even though I lost the bet, think about what I said. Maybe this is worth a shot and you can ask your PT about it.”
Mason nodded simply to end the discussion. He led the way to the front door to see her out.
“Thanks for stopping by.”
He closed the door, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His fist tightened around the paper in his hand, making it crumble into a ball.
Chapter 10
“Are you busy, Shane?”
Mason nudged the door to his brother’s office open and entered. Shane sat behind his desk, shuffling some papers around. Sitting behind a desk was probably Shane’s least favorite part of running a large horse operation. Who could blame him? Filling out charts and updating records was a mundane part of being a vet, but it was part of the job and needed to get done. Same held true for running a horse ranch.
Shane glanced up. “If you have something for me to do that’ll get me out of this office, then no, I’m definitely not busy.”
Mason grinned. “I’ve got something even better than simply getting you out of the office. How about giving me a hand with something?”
Shane’s brows rose. He immediately pushed his chair back and moved out from behind his desk.
“Where are we going?”
“The barn. I’ve got an itch to go riding.”
Shane, who was already halfway out of his office, stopped in his tracks and spun around to face Mason.
“Riding?”
Mason laughed at the dumbfounded look on his brother’s face.
“Don’t worry. I’m not doing anything stupid. I hired someone to come out and show me how to ride again. I thought you’d want to come along and watch.” Mason looked directly at his brother. “And, I need you to run interference to keep Raine from finding out.”
“Did your PT suggest this?”
Mason shook his head. “No, this was Lori Emerson’s idea.”
Shane cast him a surprised look, but kept whatever was on his mind to himself. A few seconds later, he said, “Raine’s going to find out, you know that. She always finds out. I’m still not sure this is such a good idea.”
Mason forced his smile to remain. “Look, Shane. I’m not asking you to stay and watch if you don’t want to. Nothing’s going to happen, all right? I need you to be the brother I used to know, not someone who’s constantly tip-toeing around me.”
Shane frowned, but nodded. “You know how I feel about that accident.”
“Well, knock it off. It was just that, an accident. You could have been the one who tripped over that bucket and had the horse fall on top of you. It happened, and I wish we’d just get back to the way things were. It would make things a lot easier for me.”
Shane closed his eyes for a moment, then placed his hand on Mason’s shoulder.
“I’m trying. It kills me to see you in this chair, Mason.”
Mason scoffed. “It kills me, too, but instead of you treating me like a cripple, I’d like for you to help me get better. I don’t want anyone but you to know, because I don’t want to get my hopes up in case this doesn’t work.”
Shane smiled. “Then I suppose the first order of business is to keep our sister from finding out your latest scheme.”
“Keep her from finding what out?”
Mason and Shane both groaned when Alley appeared from around the corner of the hallway. She threw glances at both of them. Shane reached for his wife’s hand and pulled her to him. He gave her a kiss and smiled, then glanced at Mason.
“Raine’s got it in her mind to play matchmaker with Lori Emerson and Mason,” Shane stammered. “We’re simply trying to, ah, keep her from knowing that –”
“Lori and I are going on a date next Friday,” Mason finished for Shane, who was stumbling over his words. He instantly cursed under his breath for what he’d said.
Go on a date with Lori? Where had that come from?
Shane coughed. His eyes widened as he stared at him, giving him a look that clearly said, “Now you’ve done it.”
Alley’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going out with Lori next Friday? I thought you said she was acting just like Raine, trying to push you into going back to work at the clinic, and you didn’t want anything to do with her.”
Mason chuckled. “Well, she seems to have backed off. She came by about a week ago to say hi and thank me again for going on the farm calls with her.” He shrugged. “I think she’s an attractive woman, and I thought I’d ask her out. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
At least that last part was the truth.
He had thought about taking her on a date . . . if his circumstances were different.
Somehow, some way, to get himself out of trouble with his sister-in-law, he was going to make it happen, and without giving Lori the idea that it was actually a date. He cursed again. He’d really dug himself a hole this time. It would have been much better if Raine had found out about the riding. If she caught wind of this lie, he’d never hear the end of it.
Shane cleared his throat. His eyes darted from his wife to Mason. He reached behind his head and scratched at his neck. “So, yeah, in case Lori turns him down, it’s probably best if we keep it quiet in front of Raine. You know how she can get.”
Alley shook her head. She cast calculating eyes at her husband, and at Mason.
“I smell something fishy here, and whatever it is, it isn’t a date with Lori. All I know is you don’t want Raine to find out.”
Mason smiled at his sister-in-law. Alley was much too perceptive and smart for her own good. But she was also very tight with Raine and would inform her what he was doing.
“There’s nothing fishy going on. Just forget we had this conversation and don’t talk about me or Lori in the same sentence in Raine’s presence.”
Alley frowned, but nodded at Mason. “I’ll be sure to ask Lori how it went after Friday.” Her frown turned into a triumphant smile. She kissed Shane on the cheek, then headed up the hall.
“Great,” Mason grumbled.
“We could have simply told her the truth,” Shane offered. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have said anything in front of Raine. Going on a date with Lori, though?” Shane’s mouth widened in a smirk. “Why did you think that was a good thing to say? You’ve really dug yourself a hole now.”
Mason gritted his teeth. It was the first thing to come out of his mouth because it had been on his mind since the day she’d stopped by with the therapeutic riding idea. He mentally shook his head. No. He’d thought about it longer than that.
“It just sort of slipped out of my mouth,” he answered lamely.
“Uh huh.” Shane scrutinized him like their sister always did.
Mason's Rescue Page 9
