Single Dad in Her Stocking

by Alison Roberts

  He looked out of the window at the whirls of snowflakes, heavier and thicker than he’d seen in a long time. Then he looked at the puppy, who was devouring the food as if it hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe it hadn’t. ‘Who do you belong to?’

  One tentative sniff of the sausages and Spike gobbled the lot—okay, so the name just came to him. It fitted the mutt perfectly, especially with the tail that stuck straight up. And so much for not getting involved. As a rural GP he’d been around enough farmers to know you didn’t name things you didn’t want to get attached to.

  Then Spike bounded over to him, dragging the now mauled and mangled shoe. Alex used his best authoritative voice. ‘Drop. Drop.’

  But Spike went right on chewing at Alex’s feet. Whoever owned him scored very low in the puppy-training ranks.

  ‘You must belong to someone. Surely? How would I find out? A dog like you shouldn’t be out there in the freezing night—oh? Ugh.’ His words stalled as a warm and wet sensation trickled down his ankle.

  ‘Oh, great. Just great. A puppy with authority issues and a weak bladder. Brilliant.’ He looked down and his eyes met those dark brown soulful ones. He ignored the squeeze in his chest. ‘Spike, my man. Just what the hell am I supposed to do with you?’

  * * *

  Sometimes folks loved their pets more than people, and Beth Masters understood that more than most. Pets didn’t break promises or let you down. Pets never gave you the cold shoulder or silent treatment. Except for the one she was examining now; the poor farm dog was so ill, and exhausted from being sick, she could barely move. ‘How long has she been like this?’ Beth asked Meg’s owner, local farmer Dennis Blakely.

  The old man just shrugged as he stared down at his lovely old collie and stroked her muzzle. ‘Help her, Beth.’

  Beth recapped what he’d told her when he’d rushed through the door a few minutes before, frantic for help. ‘So, we have a history of vomiting and shaking...like a seizure?’

  ‘Yes. No. Well...she was shaking and coughing and then she was sick. It was dark-coloured.’

  ‘Blood perhaps?’ Beth did not like the sound of that. ‘And now she’s just completely exhausted. It could be a bug, or something she’s eaten. Or any number of things.’ Or, most likely some kind of tumour in a dog of such advanced age. But Beth knew better than to jump to conclusions and she couldn’t feel any obvious mass.

  Mr Blakely tore his eyes away from the dog and looked over at Beth. ‘Something she’s eaten? Do you think so? What kind of thing?’

  Beth listened to the dog’s heart. ‘At this time of year it’s usually chocolate. People leave it wrapped up underneath the Christmas tree and forget it’s dangerous to dogs. Oh. Oh, dear, poor you.’ She rubbed gently as the dog vomited onto the counter. This wasn’t looking good. But she could see it wasn’t chocolate that had made the poor pooch sick. Meg whined and laid her head onto her paws, her eyes looking deep into Beth’s heart. Wait...there was a tinge of yellow in the dog’s sclera. Liver problems maybe?

  Her phone vibrated on the desk in the corner of the room. She ignored it. If it was urgent they’d call back.

  They did. Her heart thumped as the vibrations made the phone dance across the wood. ‘Excuse me, I need to get this.’

  But it was just a text from her mother reminding her about the carol concert they’d planned to go to later. Well, that plan was about to go south; she couldn’t leave poor Meg like this. ‘Mr Blakely... Dennis... I’m so sorry that Meg is so sick. I’m going to run some tests and, in the meantime, keep her as comfortable as I can. It could take a while to get her stable...if I can even manage that.’

  ‘Aye.’ He nodded. His pale eyes filled. ‘Do what you can, love. But save her, whatever it takes. She’s all I’ve got now Nancy’s gone. It doesn’t matter how much it costs. Just save her.’

  Beth’s heart twisted. Poor guy. A widower of only two years and, judging by the scruffy whiskers and the unkempt hair and dirty clothes, he wasn’t coping well. But caring for a very sick dog overnight would mean she’d have to miss the concert and she’d be letting her mum down. Again.

  Because the progressive rheumatoid arthritis had eaten away at her mum’s joints and rendered her unable to drive without a lot of pain she was relying on Beth to get her to and from the school hall. Beth felt torn; promises were something she always tried to keep, but she couldn’t not treat a sick dog.

  ‘Let’s see how she goes, Dennis. She’s very sick and you need to know...’ Her throat was raw. God, she hated this part of her job. She put her hand on his arm. Despite the thick old coat that hung from his thinning frame his papery skin was cold to the touch. ‘I can’t promise she’ll make it through the night.’

  The man just nodded and looked as if his heart was breaking. She put a drip up through one of Meg’s veins and bandaged her paw. The poor thing barely flinched. Then Beth popped her onto a blanket in one of the holding cages and made sure she was comfortable and safe while Beth ran the tests. ‘That should start rehydrating her and hopefully she’ll feel brighter. I’ve taken some blood and will do some X-rays and see if they come up with any clues.’

  Someone banged on the surgery front door.

  ‘We’re closed!’ she called out. ‘Dennis, you go on home. Try to get some rest.’

  ‘Hey!’ The person outside rattled the letterbox. ‘I can see you’re in there.’

  ‘Still closed!’

  No rest for the wicked. She tried to remember when she’d done something wicked and came up blank. Sure, she’d wanted to be wicked...lots of times. But she was far too sensible to throw caution to the wind. As a child she’d always been a little devil-may-care but being her mum’s carer and then having her heart stamped on had curbed that a little. And now she was a very responsible professional, who could hear canine yelping and human huffing.

  She sighed, because sometimes she was her own worst enemy, but she couldn’t let another animal suffer if she didn’t have to. She just hoped it wasn’t another serious emergency. ‘Okay. Give me a minute.’

  Focusing back on the situation in hand, she double-checked Meg was stable then walked Dennis to the door. ‘I’ll call you if things change.’

  ‘Good lass. I just hope I got to her in time.’

  ‘Fingers crossed.’ But she had a sinking feeling that it was going to need a lot more than luck to get Meg well again. She unlocked the door and opened it to let Dennis out.

  ‘Hey, Dennis. How are you?’ A very familiar voice had her heart jumping. And not in a good way.

  Alex Norton. Great. She breathed out slowly, trying not to let her body overreact, or her brain for that matter. She had more important things to concentrate on than Alex Norton.

  Dennis sighed long and deep and shook his head. His movements were slow and infused with grief. ‘Not good, Dr Alex. Not good at all.’

  ‘Oh? Anything I can help you with?’ Alex smiled. There he was with the smooth, kind and concerned doctor tone. If only they knew.

  He was holding a puppy, which was licking his neck. And he was smiling.

  Alex Norton and a puppy and a smile. How could the universe be so cruel?

  ‘I doubt you can help this time, Doc. Not unless you know about four-legged patients.’ There was a crack in the old man’s voice. ‘Meg’s taken a turn. She’s not doing well. But Beth here’s a good ’un. If anyone can make her well again, she can.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure Beth will do her best. I’m hoping she can help me out too.’

  No. Please, no. The last thing she needed right now was a conversation with the man who’d stomped on her heart all those years ago and—unfortunately, for Beth—the only man to date who could affect her with a simple look.

  Not that she didn’t want to see him per se; in fact, he was lovely to look at. From being a good-looking adolescent he’d grown into a damned fine-looking man in his expensive wool coat a
nd jeans. His dark hair was shorter than he’d used to like it and the odd grey strand was creeping in. His blue eyes were darker than she remembered and had developed one or two lines around them. He was broader too, his shoulders more powerful-looking and he was, possibly, taller than back then. But with him being six feet two his mouth had always been a tiptoe to reach.

  She was not going to think about his mouth. Or his kisses. Or him.

  So, while she didn’t mind looking at the gorgeousness that was Alex Norton she just didn’t want to lay her eyes on him. Because whenever she did she was filled with such a heady mix of emotions she couldn’t sort through them. Although she knew sadness and anger were definitely the dominant ones.

  ‘Hey, Beth.’ His smile was still there...and something else. He wanted something and, because she knew him so well, she knew that whatever he wanted was going to cost her.

  ‘Alex.’ She aimed for the same amount of ice that coated the path outside the vet surgery.

  He didn’t seem to notice. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I thought you might be going to the carol concert or Friday band night at The Queen’s Arms.’

  ‘Interesting. You thought I wouldn’t be here? Or hoped?’ He’d actually thought about where she might be? That was unusual; thinking of someone other than himself. Despite her better judgment she let him in but only because he was holding a pet, and pets were her business, not his.

  But she didn’t have the time to play nicey-nicey with him, even if just looking at him sent her heart into apoplexy. Stupid heart to keep hammering a tattoo for someone who dumped her and disappeared into the ether with not a single look back.

  ‘I did wonder whether you might be here.’ He lugged the puppy up under his arm. ‘Or whether you’d even be open this late.’

  ‘We are officially closed. And I did promise to take Mum to the concert, but I can’t leave Meg now—she’s really not well.’ Beth hurried back through to the hospital area so she could keep an eye on the old dog. The poor thing lay with her head on her paws, breathing steady. No more vomiting, so that was something. But she didn’t look right. ‘I need to run some tests. Like...now.’ She hoped he’d take the hint.

  ‘Would you like me to arrange for someone to take your mum to the concert? Joe’s going. I’m sure he’ll be able to take her down.’

  Not good at hint-taking, then. For a second she thought about saying no to him just because that was how she was feeling. But saying no to her mum having a nice night out when she rarely left the house was plain mean-spirited. So, it looked as if she was going to be beholden to Alex Norton tonight. The first and last time.

  She managed a brief smile. ‘Okay, yes, if you could give Joe a call that would be lovely.’

  As he called his business partner she took the chance to check on Meg again. She was holding on, but very weak as Beth did her vital signs. She didn’t move an inch when she was put in the X-ray sling. Didn’t so much as whine as Beth drew more blood.

  Alex came back as Beth was finishing up another round of observations. ‘Okay, done. Joe will take her to the concert and drive her home afterwards. He was more than happy to do it. He said he’d make sure she got back into the house safely.’

  ‘Thank you.’ That was something to feel less guilty about, at least. One good thing about being in Oakdale was that everyone looked out for each other, even though it could feel claustrophobic at times. Like, when everyone knew when you’d been dumped at Christmas and you had to endure those pitiful stares and sad smiles and you couldn’t wait to get the hell out and never come back. Except, of course, when your mum needed you. ‘I’ll give her a call and explain why I’m still here.’

  ‘I’ll wait. Er...we’ll wait.’ Alex cradled the puppy against his chest and stroked its back until it fell asleep. Beth refused to let the sight of gorgeous man and dog do anything at all to her emotions.

  When she’d finished calling her mum he asked, ‘Was she okay about it?’

  ‘Not really. We were both looking forward to going together like we used to do years ago, but she knows my work here is demanding and that I often have to stay late, or even overnight. She’s used to me making promises I can’t keep. But then...we all know how that goes, right?’ Ouch. That was probably unnecessarily harsh. But when you broke off a relationship—an engagement—by phone call with no explanation, you had to expect the odd barb, right?

  Geez. Beth closed her eyes for a second as she found some calm. It had been eight years. Eight damned years. She needed to let it go. In fact, she’d thought she had, until she’d come back to Oakdale to help her mum and found herself bumping into Alex at every turn. Ironic really, given that eight years ago, when she’d so desperately wanted to talk to him, she hadn’t been able to find him, and now she didn’t want to see him he was front and centre of Oakdale life. The sooner she went back to Glasgow, the better.

  When she was able to breathe slowly again she turned to him. ‘So, Alex, why are you here, exactly?’

  His jaw clenched and she wasn’t sure whether it was a reaction to her short manner or whether it was something else. ‘I seem to have a new friend.’

  And why do I care? Oh. Why did she care? Because she knew deep down she still did. Cared enough about him that he made her heart hurt. Just a few more weeks and then she’d be gone and Alex wouldn’t be part of her life again.

  Then she realised he meant the adorable puppy in his arms, who had woken up and was licking Alex’s chin and making him squirm. She scrubbed the back of the dog’s neck and it turned to look at her, large eyes brightening at her touch. ‘He’s gorgeous.’

  ‘He? You can tell the gender without looking?’ Alex’s eyes grew bigger too. ‘It took me a few minutes to figure that out.’

  ‘I can tell the gender by the way you’re holding him.’ She tried not to laugh. ‘But, if this is just a show and tell about your new pet then I haven’t got the time.’ Or the inclination.

  She had to keep telling herself she didn’t have any inclination towards Alex Norton. Except anger. Was that an inclination? There had been many times, particularly in the first few months after he’d dumped her by phone, that her inclination had been to force-feed him the engagement ring he’d so beautifully proposed to her with. That was, if she’d been able to find him.

  Alex shook his head. ‘He’s not mine. He just followed me home, snuck into my house and ate my shoes.’

  ‘All very lovely, I’m sure. And you want me to...?’

  ‘Take him.’ With the kind of smile that had once melted her heart, and now did absolutely nothing to her at all—at all—he handed the puppy out towards her. ‘He doesn’t belong to me.’

  ‘Nor me.’ Shrugging, she looked at the cute little dog who had a silky coat and bright eyes that were adoringly fixed on the man she’d once looked at like that. But he was distracting. They both were, and she had to deal with Meg. ‘He looks perfectly fine. Healthy and alert.’

  ‘He is.’ Alex craned his neck away from the puppy’s tongue and grimaced. ‘Too alert.’

  ‘Alert is a good thing, Alex.’

  ‘I need to find his owner.’

  ‘Of course you do, and I’m sure they’ll be very grateful.’

  ‘Has anyone reported a missing puppy to you or anyone here?’

  She quickly flicked through the notices in the large clinic diary on the desk. ‘No, not in the last few days. A white rabbit, rather unoriginally named Bugsy, is currently AWOL, as is a Siamese cat called Marg, but no dogs.’

  She threw him what she hoped was an über-efficient and over-officious smile that she knew would definitely not reach her eyes or exude any warmth or encouragement for them to stay. Whimpering came from the treatment room. Meg.

  Damn. ‘Look, I have to go. Meg needs me and I need some answers.’ And not just about what was ailing the dog. ‘You know where the door is. Goodnight, Alex and friend.’
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  Copyright © 2019 by Louisa George

  ISBN-13: 9781488048401

  Single Dad in Her Stocking

  Copyright © 2019 by Alison Roberts

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