“Look, it was her idea that I try the therapeutic riding, so naturally, she’s the one I thought of in the moment.”
Mason wheeled toward the back door. The therapeutic riding instructor would be here soon, and it was time to head to the barn.
“She’s a nice-looking woman,” Shane commented casually, falling in step beside Mason’s wheelchair. “You two have a lot in common.”
Mason stared straight ahead, his focus on the first barn in the distance. His brother was right, of course, but that didn’t mean he was going to ask her out. There were a million reasons why it would never work.
“You realize that you have to ask her out, now that you’ve stuck your foot in your mouth?”
Mason glanced up at Shane, who wasn’t looking at him. Judging by his profile, there was an amused smirk on his brother’s face.
“Between you and me, I’m sure we’ll come up with something by next Friday,” Mason grumbled.
They approached the barns in silence for a few minutes, then Shane laughed.
“This feels like old times, don’t you think?”
Mason looked at his brother, then joined him in laughter. “Figuring out a way to get out of hot water with mom was always our specialty.”
Shane was right. This was exactly the kind of camaraderie he’d been missing.
“I think Raine is worse than Mom ever was,” Shane said lightly. “Now we simply have to get you a date with Dr. Lori Emerson, and all will be well.”
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
Shane looked skeptical as he rolled his Suburban into the parking lot at the Burnt River Veterinary Clinic. His face was barely visible in the darkness, except for the shadows cast by a faint streetlight shining into the cab.
Mason shrugged. “It’s Friday night, we’ve driven every back road in the county already to kill time, and it’s getting late. You need to get home to your wife before she gets suspicious. I’m going to talk to Lori at some point, and even though I’m not actually on a date with her, at least we will have spent some time together this evening. That’s the plan. If I come home with you, Alley is going to ask a million questions about why my supposed date ended so early.”
“Coming to the clinic after hours when you’re supposed to be out on a date with Lori isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, Mason.” Shane shook his head. “You had a week to call her up and ask her out. You should have just bit the bullet and asked her, instead of sneaking into the clinic to catch her off guard.”
Mason clenched his jaw. He’d confided a lot in his brother over the last week, and it had seemed like old times again between them as they snuck around and plotted how to keep their sister and Alley from finding out about his therapy with riding horses. In order to do so, he had to set up, what looked like, a date with Lori.
The one thing Mason hadn’t told Shane was that a rejection from Lori would have simply been another blow. While she’d been willing to help him and make suggestions about coming back to work, entering a relationship with a cripple was an entirely different matter. He wasn’t even going to put her in the position of having to reject him. If he simply met her at the clinic after hours and they talked for a while, he could call it a date in front of Alley.
Mason opened the Suburban’s door. “Let me have my chair, Shane, and you can go home.”
“What are you going to tell Alley when you get home? She’ll wonder where you’ve been so long.”
Shane shrugged. “I’ll tell her I ran into Boone and Jerry and we got to talking for a while.” He shot Mason another look that conveyed he didn’t think this was a good idea, but stepped out of the vehicle. Seconds later, he appeared at the passenger side and positioned Mason’s wheelchair so he could slide out of the Suburban easily.
“I thought about finding out how to get one of the farm trucks, or maybe even your vet truck, altered so you could drive it yourself.”
Mason glanced over his shoulder at Shane. He scoffed. “Save yourself the expense.”
If he allowed everything in his life to be altered to accommodate his handicap, he might as well throw in the towel and give up ever trying to walk again. It was bad enough things in the house had been modified for his wheelchair so he could get around mostly on his own. Altering a vehicle would simply be a sign that he’d resigned himself to be a cripple forever.
Mason reached into the cab of the Suburban and pulled out his guitar case. This might be a long night if things didn’t go the way he’d planned. He’d called up Doc Johnson’s receptionist earlier in the week and confirmed that Lori was on-call for after-hour emergencies tonight. That also meant that she’d be making late-night rounds at the clinic to check on any hospitalized patients.
According to Sally, there were two hospitalized dogs and a couple of cats.
“Poor Deeohgee. He’s terrified of being here. Hasn’t wanted to eat or drink for anyone, according to Vanessa,” Sally had said. “If you were here, I know you could get him to eat. Dr. Emerson has tried everything, and even Dr. Johnson can’t get him over his fear, but the poor pup needs to stay overnight for IV fluids. He ran away for a few days and came back terribly dehydrated.”
“How are you going to get home?” Shane glanced from the dark building back to Mason. The lights in the upstairs apartment were off, too.
Mason grinned. “If Lori won’t give me a ride home, I guess I’m spending the night.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’ll be sleeping in one of the kennels.”
“I’ve slept in worse. Remember the time I was up all night at Abe Cooley’s place when his sow farrowed?”
“You came home smelling like a pig pen.”
“That’s because I spent the night in one.”
Shane shook his head. “Call me if you need anything, or want me to come and get you.”
Mason wheeled toward the back of the building. He dug in his jeans pocket for the key to the clinic’s back door. He called over his shoulder.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Shane. Thanks for covering for me.”
“Anytime,” Shane grumbled. The door to the Suburban opened then slammed shut, and the engine started.
Mason let himself into the dark building through the back door. He inhaled deeply of the familiar smells lingering in the air inside the veterinary clinic – dog and cat odor, sanitizing solutions, iodine, alcohol, and the faint odor of medicines. He moved down the hall to the treatment room, where the hospitalized patients were kept. Turning on one of the lights to give off a soft glow, he glanced around the room.
Newspaper shuffled as a dog moved around his cage. A faint whine came from one of the top cages. Mason wheeled toward it and read the cage card. He reached his hand up to let the little Jack Russell sniff his hand.
“Hey, Cowboy. Looks like you need to stop tangling with porcupines. Next time you might get a sticker in your eye.”
The little dog’s face was swollen and dotted with punctures. Mason smiled. How long had it taken Lori to remove all the porcupine quills from this little dog? According to the card, he was staying overnight for observation and to get several doses of injectable antibiotics. Doc Johnson would have pulled the quills and sent the dog on his way with some salve and maybe a prescription of oral antibiotics.
The two cats in their cages observed him quietly. Another dog whined, this time from the largest cage at ground level. Mason looked down. Deeohgee, the Australian Shepherd, sat hunched over in the corner, shivering. An IV line fed from a bottle of lactated ringers hung off a pole through the cage bars and into the dog’s front leg. He wore an Elizabethan collar, no doubt to prevent him from chewing at the line.
“I wouldn’t want to eat with one of those ridiculous cones on my head, either.”
Mason reached his hand into the cage and gave the dog a pat on the head. There was some smelly canned food in a bowl that the dog clearly hadn’t touched.
Mason wheeled to the front of the clinic, searched the shelves of canned food, and grabbed
one. He headed back into the treatment room, opened the can, and poured the contents into a clean bowl. Taking his guitar out of its case, he opened the cage, replaced the new bowl of food with the old, then pulled himself out of the chair and scooted into the cage with the dog.
“How’d you like some company, Deeohgee?” Mason shook his head. “Your owners couldn’t come up with a better name for you than Dog?”
Deeohgee cowered further into the corner, his body shaking.
“Dinner’s always better with some music.” Mason didn’t make a move to touch the dog. He left the door open and leaned against the back of the shiny stainless steel wall of the cage. Doc Johnson may not have the latest and fanciest diagnostic gadgets, but at least he’d invested in some nice, modern clinic cages a few years ago.
Mason picked at the guitar strings, playing a soft country tune. He began to hum with the music, then sang along quietly. By the time he started the third song, Deeohgee had visibly relaxed. He moved out of the corner, and inched toward Mason, lying down completely. His nose touched Mason’s arm.
“You like this song?”
Mason patted the dog’s side. He untied the cone-shaped collar and pulled it from the dog’s head.
“I think you’ll be able to eat better now, without this thing on.”
Deeohgee whined, then laid his head on Mason’s thigh. Mason picked up the song where he’d left off. A minute later, he offered the bowl to the dog. Deeohgee raised his head, sniffed at the food, and took a tentative bite.
“I know it’s hospital food. Probably not the greatest, but better than nothing.”
When the dog took another bite, Mason set the bowl down. Deeohgee ate with more enthusiasm, and Mason continued to play his guitar and sing. The room suddenly illuminated, and if he hadn’t been sitting inside a cage, it probably would have blinded him. He still had to squint at the sudden brightness. Deeohgee shifted next to him, and Mason put a reassuring hand on the dog’s head.
“Mason?”
He peered out from inside the cage. Lori stared at him with a dumbfounded look on her face. Her forehead scrunched, leaving deep furrows between the bridge of her nose and her eyes. Turning to the dog, Mason patted the canine’s neck and grinned.
“Deeohgee, it looks like my date finally showed up.”
Chapter 11
“Date? What are you doing here, and . . . in this cage?” Lori sputtered.
Seeing Mason in a dog cage, with one of her patients, had to be the strangest thing ever . . . and the most heart-warming. It was certainly the last thing she’d expected to find during her rounds at the clinic on a Friday night. Up until now, the entire evening had been rather dull and uneventful.
After having a quick dinner at Evie’s Diner with Raine Taggart, Lori had come back to her apartment over the clinic, slipped into her pajamas, and watched the Discovery Channel in the dark. So much for a crazy Friday night. Not that she’d ever had much of a social life to begin with.
While she’d gone out with fellow classmates during vet school, most of the time it had been to study, not really for socializing. Dating and boyfriends had never been a top priority before. However, since meeting Mason Taggart, it had been easy to sit in her lonely apartment each evening, thinking and daydreaming about the good-looking vet who’d given up on his career - and quite possibly on himself - unless things turned around for him.
Not one to chase after a guy, she’d kept away for the most part. He hadn’t bothered calling her, even to discuss the cases they’d seen together at the ranches. Her feeble attempt to connect with him again a week ago when she’d presented him with the idea of equine therapy had failed.
She’d tried being assertive with her suggestion, and not let her feelings for him show. He didn’t seem at all interested in either the idea of riding, or in her. He probably thought she was a pest and didn’t want her to meddle in his business. If she called to talk to his sister-in-law, it would sound as if she was desperate.
Having dinner with his sister at Raine’s invitation, however, had given her a chance to discreetly ask about Mason and find out if he’d at least looked into equine therapy to try and stimulate his damaged nerves.
“He hasn’t said a word about it,” Raine had told her. By the look on her face, she’d at least seemed interested. “I’ll ask him. It actually sounds like a great idea, and something I should have thought of, too. He spends a lot of time in physical therapy, but this might get him out of the house, if nothing else.”
Lori had nodded, slightly disappointed that Mason was being so stubborn. It seemed as if he didn’t want to try everything possible to get better. Or maybe he simply didn’t want an outsider to butt in on his personal business. Still, there had been something in the way he’d looked at her in the truck the day they’d gone on farm calls, and the way he’d held her, that had turned her stomach and heart into knots. Sitting alone in her apartment each night, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.
From all accounts, Mason Taggart was a great vet, and from what she’d seen of him, a caring man. If they had met under different circumstances, would he have even given her a second glance? No doubt he had plenty of women wanting to go out with him. Maybe he even had a girlfriend. No, neither his sister nor sister-in-law had said anything about a girlfriend.
After finishing a pint of huckleberry ice cream in front of the TV, it had been late enough to check on the hospitalized patients before bed. None of them were critical, so she hadn’t bothered changing out of her pajama bottoms and tank top. It would only take a few minutes to do a visual inspection of each patient and take some quick vitals.
Descending the stairs that led to the clinic’s storage room, she’d noticed a soft glow coming from the treatment area. She’d frowned. She’d been the last person in the clinic, but she always double-checked to make sure the lights were turned off.
The faint sound of guitar music along with a man singing a country tune could have come from the radio Vanessa liked to have on during business hours, but she always turned it off when she locked the front of the clinic. With a pounding heart, Lori had entered the treatment area and turned on all the lights. The last thing, or person, she’d expected to see, was Mason Taggart, sitting in a cage with his guitar, singing to a dog.
Mason pulled himself out of the enclosure and maneuvered into his wheelchair. Fascinated, Lori could only watch with her mouth slightly open. He had incredible upper body strength and coordination, but he didn’t look bulky. He was athletic from head to toe, except the lower half of his body didn’t work. His deep olive complexion was a clear indication that he spent a lot of time outdoors, or at least he used to.
“Your patient finished his dinner,” he announced after settling in his chair. He looked at her with penetrating eyes, and that heart-melting grin.
Lori blinked and cast her gaze elsewhere. Heat crept up into her cheeks. She’d been caught blatantly staring at him. Her brows furrowed to cover her embarrassment.
“What are you doing here after hours? How did you get here?”
Mason glanced at the dog in the open cage. The animal sat without making a move to leave, staring at Mason through the bars with adoring eyes. Hopefully she hadn’t stared at him with the same kind of look a minute ago.
“Shane dropped me off,” he said casually, and wheeled toward her. “I still have my clinic key, so I let myself in through the back door.”
Lori shook her head. “But why? What were you doing, sitting in that cage?”
Mason stopped in front of her and looked up. The soft grin on his face as he perused her, letting his eyes linger on her bare arms sent a tingling feeling all through her, as if he was touching her instead of simply looking. Lori forced her eyes away, finding interest in the feline hysterectomy patient in one of the top cages. The little cat seemed to be resting comfortably. Lori wrapped her arms around her middle, as if that would keep Mason from his continued stare.
“I came to see you, actually.”
“Yeah, to let you know that I took your advice.”
“You did?” Could she sound any dumber? All she was able to produce were stupid questions to his responses.
“I called the lady who does equine therapy, and she’s been coming to the ranch every day for the last week.” A soft glow shone in his eyes that matched his smile as he spoke. “I can’t say that it’s helped, but it sure beats sitting in the house all day. Even though I can’t feel my lower extremities, it does feel good to be on a horse.”
“Mason, that’s wonderful.” Lori smiled. She took a step forward, and her hand landed on his shoulder. The contact sent a surge of adrenaline through her, and she immediately pulled back as if the touch had burned her. She shook her head to focus on something else.
“I had a quick bite to eat with your sister this evening. I asked her if you’d looked into equine therapy, and she didn’t seem to know anything about it.”
The smile on Mason’s face faltered. “You had dinner with Raine?” He rubbed at his chin. “That might present a problem,” he muttered almost to himself.
“Problem? Why is that a problem?”
Mason glanced up. His grin was back, but it looked more like the sheepish grin of a boy caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.
“Well.” He continued to rub his jaw, tilting his head to study her. “My sister-in-law thinks I’m on a date with you right now. If I know women, Alley will tell Raine about it in the morning at the latest. That puts me in hot water with both of them.”
Lori swallowed. Date? Earlier he’d been talking to the dog, saying his date had arrived.
“Would you care to elaborate and explain yourself, Mason?”
Why would he tell his sister-in-law he was on a date? And with her, no less? He hadn’t called since she’d stopped at the ranch a week ago, and she definitely would have remembered if he had asked her out.
Mason chuckled. “Well, it started out with me telling Shane about the equine therapy. I then asked my brother not to mention it to Raine, because I’m a bit tired of her sticking her nose in my business. Alley overheard that part, but not the part about the equine therapy. So, without thinking, I told Alley not to tell Raine that I was on a date with you tonight. I figured coming here was better than hiding out for the evening in the barn at home.”
Mason's Rescue Page 10
