Rose

by Elle Casey

He said just . . . He said just to see me! “You come out here for me?” Amber was right!

  “Pretty much every time I’ve been out there, with the exception of the first trip.”

  I will never doubt my sister again! I’m shocked. Shocked and pleased. My whole body goes warm. I could probably stand outside without a jacket and not even feel the cold. “Really?” I sound so needy it’s ridiculous.

  “Really.” His voice is so soft and tender. And sexy. Again. “It’s why I haven’t called you as much as I should have or as much as I’ve wanted to. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself.”

  I have to be cool. I can’t blow this. What would a cool person say? Very little. Keep it short and sweet, Rose. You can do this. “That’s very flattering.”

  “It’s not too much?”

  I shake my head, even though he can’t see me doing it. “No. Not too much.”

  He lets out a long sigh. “Thank God. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff getting ready to jump off. Now I know how it feels to experience acrophobia.”

  I laugh. “Believe me, I know what you mean.”

  “I guess this means we’re both into each other,” he says matter-of-factly.

  I have to rest my hand on my cheek to try to cool it down. “I can’t believe you just said that.” I have to stand up. I have too much energy to remain seated. I do a dance, throwing out my free arm and kicking out my legs, nodding my head to an internal rhythm only I can hear and feel. I’m so happy I want to sing like Maria in The Sound of Music.

  The clinic is aliiiive with the sound of muusiiiic!

  Banana comes over and starts dancing around me, and then Oscar Mayer joins the fun. We’re having a silent dance party in the office, celebrating the fact that I could be about to enter into an official relationship with a guy who is amazingly smart, gorgeous, sexy, and kind.

  “I take measured risks,” he says, oblivious to the existence of my silent dance-off. “I figured laying it out there was worth it.”

  I stop dancing and smooth my shirt down, trying to collect myself. “Hey, it’s cool. I take risks too sometimes.”

  “You sound like you’re out of breath,” he says, sounding confused.

  “Uh, yeah.” Great. Now who’s the heavy breather? Quick! Think of something to say! “Just . . . you know . . . lifting heavy things and stuff. Makes me lose my breath sometimes.”

  “You’re doing heavy lifting while you’re on the phone?”

  Oh, Lord, why can’t this part of the conversation be over already? “Yeah. Don’t you?”

  “No,” he chuckles. “Not in my office, anyway.”

  “Yeah, okay. That makes sense.” I cringe, wondering if he knows my secret: that I am so excited over a potential relationship with him that I’m losing my mind right here on the spot. I walk back to my desk, trying to calm myself by taking a seat and breathing slowly and deliberately. No more dancing. Not until I’m off the phone, at least.

  “So, when am I going to see you again?” he asks.

  “Whenever you get the itch to come to Maine, I guess.” I start randomly pressing the space bar on my laptop to keep my hands busy. I’m on pins and needles, waiting to hear when I’ll see him again. Please say tomorrow!

  “Would you ever consider coming here to see me?” he asks.

  I spin a pencil on the desk. “Maybe. But it would be pretty difficult with my patients here needing me.”

  “Yeah,” he says, sounding disappointed, “I understand.”

  I hear a voice in the background of his office and then some muffled sounds on the phone. He comes back on the line sounding completely different. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m sorry. Can I call you later?”

  “Sure. I’ll be here, and if no one answers, you can try the house phone.”

  “Why don’t you give me your cell phone number?”

  I cringe. “Because I don’t have one?”

  “You don’t?” He sounds shocked.

  “There really isn’t a need for me to. I’m always either at the clinic or the house.” I don’t mention the fact that a cell phone is an expense I can’t afford.

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll try one of those numbers, then.”

  “Okay, great. Talk to you soon, I hope.” I pray that didn’t sound too desperate.

  “Sure will. Bye.”

  I hang up the phone and then spend the next five minutes dancing like a crazy fool around the lobby. Banana and Oscar Mayer join me, barking like mad. I probably could have gone on for another ten minutes, but the phone rings again and puts a stop to the silliness. Running over to the desk, I go to grab the handset, but then I stop when I see this call is coming from an unknown number. It’s the stalker. Fury fills me, even seeping into my bones.

  I take the handset in a grip of iron and yank it off the cradle. I don’t even give him time to start his nasty breathing before I hit him with both barrels. “Listen here, you pervert! This is the last time I’m going to answer your telephone calls! You need to stop calling me and stop breathing in my ear, do you hear me?! You are going to get arrested! This is deviant behavior, do you understand me? You are a deviant. You are ill! You need to get help!” I pause to catch my breath.

  “Is this Rose Lancaster?” says a deep male voice.

  I feel the blood draining from my face and become instantly dizzy. He’s talking to me now. My stalker is a man. A big one. A scary one. Maybe a killer. And he knows my name. I fall into my seat and grab the edge of the desk. “Yes. It is. And this is . . . ?”

  “This is Officer Brownlee. I understand you have some sort of crank caller problem?”

  I let out all my air and lower my head to the desk, banging it a few times for good measure. I cannot believe I just went off on a police officer. He’s going to think I’m a complete nutcase. “Yes. I do.”

  “Sounds like he’s got you pretty stressed-out over it.”

  “You could say that.” I can’t believe the emotional roller coaster I’ve been riding over the last few hours. I need a nap.

  “How about I stop by in a little bit and take your statement?”

  I sit up, a trickle of relief making its way into my heart. “That would be really, really awesome. I would seriously appreciate that.”

  “Can I bring my dog?”

  His question throws me for a moment. “Your dog?”

  “Yeah. He’s limping. Maybe you could take a look at him for me?”

  “Sure. Absolutely. Bring your dog; I’d love to see him.”

  “Great. I’ll see you in a little while.”

  I hang up the phone and allow a small smile to play along my lips. This is very unlike what I was expecting from the police department. Maybe they’re actually going to take me seriously this time. Or maybe this guy just wants free medical care. But what the hell . . . I’m not above using that as leverage. Anything I need to do to get rid of this weirdo, I’m going to do. Bring on the free medical treatment!

  And I’m not going to let all this nonsense get me down. My phone call with Greg has the power to keep me riding high for days. Maybe weeks. Maybe months. Who knows, it could last a lifetime. But I can’t get ahead of myself. For right now, all Greg and I have is an acknowledged mutual attraction. We both want to see where this is going and whether we’re interested in pushing forward beyond where we are right now. That’s all good, right? And it sounds like my lawsuit is going to be a thing of the past soon. Everything is going my way for the first time in a while.

  Banana looks at me with his ears perked up.

  “You want to dance again, don’t you?”

  His mouth drops open and his tail starts wagging as he smiles at me. Oscar Mayer does the same. My heart fills with joy at all the wonderful things I have in my life. “Let’s go then, boys! Puppy dance-off! Woo hoo!” I jump up from my seat and go back to the lobby and dance until I’m too exhausted to bust a single other move.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The puppies are down for their nap and I’ve just fi
nished putting new bandages on the few patients I have when the phone rings. I pull off my gloves and walk into the front room, dropping them in the wastebasket on the way. It’s Greg calling; I recognize his number now.

  “Hi. What’s the news?” I have my fingers crossed, praying he won’t be crying.

  “I have great news. You were right. It was the tick thing.”

  I sigh with relief. “That is amazing. I am so happy for you.”

  “It’s a miracle. She’s actually up and walking around, like nothing ever happened.”

  “That toxin is pretty nasty stuff.”

  “It really is a miracle how you figured that out. I mean, I was dealing with the top vet in New York City, who had my dog right there on his table, and the fact that he didn’t know what was going on with her and you did—and you didn’t even have to see her? It’s just incredible to me. Unbelievable.”

  I feel a little pit develop in my stomach. If he were talking to another vet right now, he’d be happy but not this impressed. It makes me feel like he considers me to be . . . less. “Yeah. Sure. I get it. It’s amazing. Totally.”

  He pauses. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

  “No, I get it. He’s a veterinarian and I’m not. I can see why you’d be so shocked.”

  “But I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant . . .” He hisses out a sigh, his tone dropping its enthusiasm. “That was a poor way to say what I was thinking. I know you have a ton of experience and you’re just as qualified as the vets here in the city. What I meant to say is that you have a gift. You’re born to do this stuff. You know more than the people who’ve been to school to become experts.”

  “No, that’s not true. I don’t have their level of education.”

  “But you’re experienced. And you obviously have seen things in the field that they haven’t. Seriously, why don’t you go to vet school?” He sounds like he’s begging me to do it.

  I have to laugh at that. “You know why I can’t go. I have a busy animal clinic here. And I can even afford a cell phone, so unless they’ve started giving education away for free . . .” I stop right there because this idea of not being able to do something that could be very tempting is too difficult for me. Vet school is a dream, not a reality. I don’t have the luxury of putting myself first. I have a family business to support with my labor hours, and I have a community I already provide services to, and they all need me to keep doing what I’ve been doing for the past few years.

  “Yeah. I get it.”

  I expect him to say something else, but he doesn’t. I wait several long seconds but then decide it’s up to me to pick up the conversation. “Do you have Tinkerbell home with you yet?”

  “No. They want to keep her overnight for observation. Do you agree with that idea?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You don’t think they’re milking me for more money? They’re charging me an arm and a leg for this. I don’t mind paying for it, if it’s what she needs, but I don’t want to be taken advantage of.”

  “Not at all. If she were my patient, I’d want to keep her at least one night, maybe two, just to be sure.”

  “Then I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do with my animals.”

  “Do you have more than one?”

  “Not exactly . . . but I was thinking about Oscar . . .”

  “And?”

  “I think you’re right; Tinkerbell could use a companion. I’m not out of town very often, but it would be nice for her to not be too alone when I am.”

  “You can always bring her here, you know.”

  “I was thinking about that. Maybe next time I come she could come with me.”

  “We’ll put a tick collar on her.”

  “Heck yeah, we will.”

  I play with the pencil on my desk as I wait for him to speak again. I want to talk more about this budding relationship we have, but I’m not going to be the first one to do it.

  “I think I need to come up there to have you sign an engagement letter.”

  I’m seized by a case of sudden-onset tinnitus, and my eyeballs nearly fall out of my head. “An engagement letter?” Is he asking me to marry him in a really lawyer-like way?

  “Yes. In order for my colleague to do that legal work for you, he has to have an official contract with you as his client. It’s called an engagement letter.”

  I let out a long, shaky breath. “Oh. Yeah. That makes a lot of sense.”

  “Why do you sound strange right now? Did I say something wrong again? You’re not changing your mind about my firm’s representation, are you?”

  I fan myself with a stack of papers. “No, no, not at all. I’m just tired.” No way in hell am I telling him the real reason for my panic attack. I thought you wanted to marry me, ha, ha!

  “Are you free in the next couple days?”

  I pretend to look at a calendar. “Let me check . . . Umm . . . absolutely. I’m wide open.”

  “Great. Once Tinkerbell has recovered, I think I can move some things around and come out that way, if you think you’ll have time to discuss this legal matter.”

  “Yes. The legal matter. Sure.”

  He lowers his voice. “And maybe you’ll have time for another one of those kisses?”

  I can’t stop smiling. “I could probably work that into my schedule too.” I reach over to my desk calendar and write KISSES on one of the squares.

  “Great. Looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. Talk to you later?”

  “Yep. Absolutely.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I hang up the phone and allow myself a few moments to imagine us getting together again. Will we hold hands? Walk with our arms around each other? Kiss? Make love? Anything could happen. I’m going to let it, too. There will be no rules and no expectations. I don’t want anything getting in the way of the fun we could have together.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The past two days have been the longest of my life. I don’t have a large wardrobe, but does that stop me from putting together every possible outfit and trying them on twice? No. Of course not. I even used the iron, which is something I do only once a year at Christmas. And even though it’s not Christmas, it feels like it is. Greg is due here any minute. Smitty is picking him up from the airport.

  There’s a knock at my door, and Em sticks her head in. “What’re you doing in here?” She steps inside and closes the door behind her.

  My bed is covered in clothing. I’m totally busted. “Getting ready for a Goodwill run?”

  She sits down and smiles. “No, you’re not. You’re trying on clothes because Greg is coming.”

  I’m standing in front of her holding a shirt over my chest. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only to every single person on the farm. People in town probably don’t know, though, if that makes you feel any better.”

  I sag, drop the shirt on the floor, and flop onto my stomach on the bed. “Why am I like this?” I say into my comforter. “Why can’t I be cool?”

  She rubs my back. “You are cool. You’re the coolest one of the three of us.”

  I turn my head to look at her. “But you said everybody knows that I have a crush on Greg.”

  She gives me a pity frown. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Amber and I both fell in love in front of everyone; you know that.”

  “Who said anything about love?” I prop myself up on my elbow so I can scowl at her.

  “You know what I mean. You can say ‘like’ if you want, but I think you guys are really compatible, and it probably wouldn’t take much for you to fall in love.”

  “You just want everybody to be like you are.” I stick my tongue out at her. Sometimes she and Sam are so cute together it’s annoying. Or maybe I’m just acting like a brat because I’m so stressed about Greg’s arrival. It feels like there’s a lot riding on this visit.

  “I do want that for you, you’re right.” She stands and starts pull
ing clothing off the bed, holding up different combinations. “What about this one? I always thought it looked especially good on you.”

  I sit up and think about it. What would Greg think? Would he think it was sexy or frumpy? “I don’t know. I don’t really know what his taste is.”

  “Who cares what his taste in shirts is? His taste is you. You just need to feel comfortable and pretty, and the rest will take care of itself.”

  “I guess that outfit could work.” I fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “What if he changes his mind, though?”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  I twist my head to glare at her. “You need to answer my question first.”

  “If he changes his mind, that’s life. You let it go and move on.” She shrugs.

  “I know.” I sigh. “Sometimes I wish I could look into a crystal ball and see the future so I’d know what to expect.”

  “You don’t need a crystal ball to do that. I can tell you exactly what to expect.”

  I roll onto my side and put my hands in prayer position. “Please, Madam Zelda, tell me what my future holds.”

  She lies down next to me and wraps her hands around mine. Her eyes are super sparkly, and her face is so beautiful. I love her so much. I listen with everything I have, believing she has the answer for me.

  “Your future will hold passion and love, anxiety and worry, adventure and loneliness, togetherness and family. You will be impressed and disappointed. You will be excited and sad. You will have triumphs and defeats. But through it all, one thing will remain the same.”

  I feel tears building in my eyes. “What’s that?”

  “You will have the love of this family surrounding you, and it will never quit on you and it will never dim, no matter what.”

  I throw my arms around her and pull her up to me. “How did I get so lucky to have you as a sister?”

  “Karma. Something you did in a past life.” She hugs me back fiercely.

  I let go of her and wipe the tears from under my eyes. “I must’ve been a really good person in a past life.”

  She pinches my cheek. “I’m sure you were. You sure are in this life.” We both stand up slowly and then spend some time pushing my clothes around, arranging them into different outfits.