Highland Doc's Christmas Rescue

by Susan Carlisle

  The dirty street behind him was graveled with disappointment and heartache. He had vowed the lane ahead would be paved with the love and loyalty of a woman who wanted him as much as he did her. A lifelong partner. The next time he fell in love, he would get it right.

  He shoved that fantasy aside and concentrated on what he was there for. “How’re you doing?”

  “Better after a hot bath.”

  “Good. You were impressive out there, Cass. You stayed in control. I know you must have been in pain. You should have said something. More than that, I should’ve thought.” Guilt filled him. “I’m sorry.”

  She opened the door wider. “Hey, I’m an EMT. I’m trained to help.”

  “True, but you’re also a patient here. I should have remembered that.” She looked cute in her T-shirt with her pink-tipped toes.

  “I’m fine.” For once her eyes weren’t clouded with hidden feelings. In fact, there was a hint of a smile in them.

  “I’m glad. Then I’ll let you get some rest.” He needed to go. Right now. He started down the hall.

  “Hey, Lyle.”

  He almost kept going, but curiosity got the better of him.

  “You were pretty impressive out there too.”

  He smiled. It felt good to have someone praise him, especially Cass. He was confident in his abilities, but it didn’t hurt to have others notice. His father certainly hadn’t. “Thanks. Sleep well, Cass.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CASS’S HAND SHOOK as she wrapped it around the handle of the glass door of the canine therapy center the next afternoon. She had said she’d keep her appointment and she would. But she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  The thought of having anything to do with a dog made her want to break down and cry. The pain of losing Rufus was still too raw. It might be silly for a grown professional woman to feel this way, but she didn’t care. Rufus was gone. Some part of her clung to the irrational hope he would be waiting with his tail wagging when she returned home. No other dog could replace him.

  She would do what she had to, then hurry to her room for a good cry.

  When she jerked the door open the young man sitting behind the desk started. This was the same high-ceilinged room with the rough board walls where she and Lyle had brought the puppy a couple of nights before. He’d said it used to be the stables and she could now see that. The other night all that’d filled her mind was that she had a dog in her arms.

  “Can I help you?” the man at the desk asked.

  “I’m Cass Bellow. I’m a resident at the clinic.”

  He looked down as if checking a list, then back at her. “Oh, yes, we’ve been expecting you.” As he got to his feet he added, “Come with me. Margaret assists with the canine therapy program. She’s back here.”

  Cass forced her feet to move and followed him down a hall. It wasn’t the same one Lyle and Esme had led her down to the examination room the other night. The man pushed through a swing door. Cass entered a room furnished with easy chairs.

  A dark-haired woman was down on her heels next to a woman seated in an easy chair holding a small black dog of no pedigree. Cass recognized the woman in the chair from the dinner table at the clinic. Lyle had introduced them, but Cass didn’t remember her name. Shame pricked her. She hadn’t even tried.

  “Margaret, this is Cass Bellow,” the man announced.

  The dark-haired woman looked at them, stood and came toward Cass with one hand outstretched. She smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

  Was that her subtle way of reprimanding her for not showing up for her earlier appointments? The temptation to run grew.

  “I help Esme with the canine therapy here at Heatherglen,” Margaret continued.

  The man quietly left the way they had come in.

  Staring at the small dog that was enjoying the woman’s gentle pats, Cass’s chest tightened. She wasn’t ready for this. She had no interest in doing anything with a dog.

  Margaret was saying, “I thought you might like to meet Muffin. He’s a sweet little dog. He’ll be your companion during your stay. Let me get him and you can get acquainted.” She stepped through a side door.

  Cass stood, knees shaking, in the middle of the room, looking everywhere but at the other woman. She didn’t want any responsibility for a dog for the next month. Especially one named Muffin. Her breathing became shallow. Her mouth turned dry. She shifted from one foot to the other. The need to leave intensified. This was too much. A meltdown was building if she didn’t get out of there. She wasn’t ready, might not ever be. What if she became too attached to the ridiculous Muffin? She would be leaving soon. All this pain would be there again.

  Without thought Cass bolted for the door and up the hall to the front room. She had to get out of there. Ignoring the man behind the desk calling her name, she shoved the door open and stumbled into the cold air. Sucking in a deep breath, she kept going, heading toward the castle. By way of a side door she’d found yesterday, she slipped inside unnoticed.

  Instead of going to her room, where someone would surely look for her, she headed for the conservatory. While exploring she’d also found an alcove hidden behind some large palm plants and banana trees with only a small sofa. There she could lick her wounds in private.

  Relief washed through her when she found the floral fabric-covered settee empty. She sat, pulling her legs up under her and wrapping the coat Lyle had loaned her tighter. When would the pain go away?

  She had no idea how long she had been sitting there staring off into space when she heard, “Cass?”

  Lyle.

  She stiffened. How had he found her? It didn’t matter. She had no intention of explaining herself. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? “Go away.”

  He just stood there.

  Finally, she murmured, “How did you know where to find me?”

  “I saw you come in here. When I had a call from the center I knew where to look.”

  Great. She’d believed she’d made her escape. Her focus remained on the green spots showing in the snow that was melting outside. “So now you’re riding to the rescue.”

  Lyle came to sit beside her. “I’d just like to help. Be a friend. I was told you looked upset.”

  Maybe if she ignored him he would go away. Instead of him taking the hint to leave, he settled further back into the cushions, his big body almost touching hers. They remained like that for a while, neither saying anything.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Cass stared at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam streaming through the glass.

  “Not until I know you’re okay.” He stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles.

  She huffed. “Let me assure you I’m not going to harm myself.”

  “I didn’t think that but it’s good to hear.”

  He settled back as though he was content to stay the rest of the day. As the silence between them grew so did her temper. She hissed, “What do I have to say to get you to leave?”

  For a moment she thought he was ignoring her. When he did reply, concern laced his voice. “I’d like to understand why you’re determined to have no part in our canine therapy program, especially since you work with a dog all the time.”

  Could she tell him? Would he understand? Was that the only way to get him to leave her alone? If he knew, maybe he would see to it she didn’t have to go to canine therapy.

  She opened her mouth to tell him about Rufus but the words stuck in her throat. If she said it out loud, then it would make it true. She didn’t want that. Couldn’t live with that. She closed her eyes tight. Maybe if she said it really fast she could get it out. “Rufus, my partner, died. Now I don’t know if I can be around a dog all the time.”

  The moisture she had been banking for days seeped out of her closed eyelids. She took a deep breath in an effort to stop the sob wellin
g in her throat but it didn’t work. Instead she doubled over in agony. As she tried to catch her breath Lyle ran his large hand across her back in a comforting stroke.

  Then he cupped her shoulder and pulled her against his chest. She buried her face in his shirt, her fingers clutching his sides. All the emotions she had held in check since the day that wall had collapsed flowed freely. The pain deep within her consumed her. Rufus was gone. Life as she’d known it had gone with him.

  Lyle held her close, rubbing her shoulders and back. “Let it all out,” he whispered.

  Cass did. All the raw feelings she’d held in check for weeks flowed, leaving her nothing but a heaving shell. She couldn’t stop the pain, fear and sorrow from escaping.

  Lyle continued holding her and murmuring soft reassuring words while she clung to him.

  She had no idea how much time had passed when she woke with a start. Disorientated, she still had a sense of safety. Slowly it dawned on her she was still in Lyle’s arms.

  Embarrassment flooded her. Placing her palms on his chest, she pushed into a sitting position. Yet one of his hands remained on her back.

  “I’m so sorry for that ugly scene,” she heard herself saying. “I don’t know why I fell apart like that. It isn’t like me.”

  “I’d imagine it was because you needed to. You’ve been under a tremendous strain.” He shifted, putting his hands on his thighs.

  She missed the reassuring weight immediately. Lyle was right, there was a lot of stress and emotion involved in her profession. She should be able to handle it. But where Rufus was concerned she was lost. Cass wiped at his sweater. “I’ve made a mess of your clothes.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m glad I was here to help.” He sounded as if he meant it.

  “So part of your job description is to have patients cry all over you?” Cass managed a weak smile.

  He looked at her tenderly. “Not all patients. I have to say you’re a special case.”

  Warmth gradually replaced the coldness running through her. Lyle was a nice man saying all the right things. For an instant she wished he wasn’t a doctor speaking to a patient.

  “I knew about you losing your dog, it was in your file. But I had no idea that going to canine therapy would be so difficult for you. You’ve had a tough time physically and...” he paused “...emotionally. Flora, Esme and I didn’t recognize that. I’m sorry. Would you like to talk about what happened? I’m a good listener.” His words were encouraging, not demanding.

  Cass shook her head, both in response and to clear it.

  He waited a few moments then asked, “When did you learn the details of what happened?”

  “I realized the wall was falling but I had no idea...” She swallowed. Her throat was tight and dry. Inhaling, she fought through the final pang of denial. “I didn’t find out Rufus didn’t make it until I woke up in the hospital. When I asked about him, one of the nurses had to ask around for the information.”

  Lyle put his arm around her shoulders again and gave her a supportive squeeze. “I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened like that.”

  Cass continued to look at the windowsill. It was such a large one. Almost big enough to use as a seat. “No matter when I was told, or how, it wouldn’t have made...the terrible truth any easier to hear.”

  “Maybe not, but at the very least the news should have been given to you in a sensitive manner.” He sounded irritated on her behalf. “Will you tell me about your dog?”

  She didn’t want to, but he deserved to know why she’d just sobbed herself into an exhausted sleep all over him. “Rufus was more than my dog. He was my partner and best friend.”

  And her longest relationship. He been there more than once when a relationship with a man had ended. Those guys had either been intimidated by a woman who handled such an emotionally demanding job, or they didn’t like her leaving for weeks at a time on the spur of the moment. For a couple of them her relationship with Rufus had been a bone of contention. They’d wanted all her attention and hadn’t understood the uncanny connection between her and her canine partner. Now she had physical scars that they might find offensive, too.

  Jim, the latest and the man she’d believed was The One, had felt her job was too risky. It had been nice to have someone worry over her at first, but it had soon started to feel restrictive. Despite their breakup he’d been kind enough to call her while she’d been in the hospital, but it had soon turned into a conversation that was more about him telling her I told you so than about his real concern for her. There had been no sympathy on his part for Rufus. She’d thought at one time they might have a chance at a real life together. Sadly, she’d really cared for Jim but there was no hope of that after their conversation.

  Lyle removed his arm. She wanted it back. It was comforting. “How long was this dog your partner?”

  “Four years. He was two when I got him. We spent the first eight weeks in training. He was born in Germany. Most good rescue dogs are. The Germans are known for breeding them to be work dogs. In fact, most of his commands I gave in German.” It felt better, and was easier, to talk about Rufus than she’d imagined.

  “Interesting.” Lyle waited.

  She looked at him. His expectant expression suggested he was truly interested in what she was saying. Yet she couldn’t imagine him actually caring.

  “How did you train together?”

  “Are you really interested?” What if he was just asking to keep her talking as part of her “therapy”? None of the men she had known before him had cared one way or another. Why would he be any different?

  “Aye. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” His voice carried concern. It had been so long since she’d heard that in a man’s voice, it struck a deep chord within her.

  “I had to do a written test and have a physical. Then I had to have a home visit so the powers-that-be knew I could care for a working dog. An animal like Rufus can cost as much as ten thousand American dollars so handlers are vetted closely. That kind of money can’t be wasted. Rufus had to have a physical as well, and learn obedience basics and detection, especially body odor recognition. It was pretty intense for both of us.”

  “A powerful bonding experience for you both.”

  Cass’s chest tightened from the memories. They had indeed bonded. She had loved the dog, heart and soul. At least Lyle seemed to understand. “Though he was only four, he was getting old for a working dog. Rufus was going to have to retire soon. I had already put in the paperwork to take him after he was done.”

  “Going to canine therapy was almost like punishment for you. You should have said something.” His distress was evident in his voice.

  She looked away in horror. “And embarrass myself, like I did a few minutes ago?”

  Lyle took hold of her hand. His was large, secure...comforting. “You haven’t embarrassed yourself. It’s okay to be human.”

  “Yeah, but blubbering all over you is a bit too human.”

  He leaned closer until his shoulder touched hers. “I didn’t mind. I’m just sorry I kept pushing you into canine therapy.”

  “I figured you’d seen it in my file.” She winced at how pitiful she sounded.

  “Yeah, but that didn’t mean I understood how close you were.”

  Great. He probably thought she had really gone off her rocker. “I don’t know if I can handle being around a dog right now. I’ll be leaving here in a few weeks and I, uh, just can’t risk becoming attached to another one.” What she wasn’t telling him about was the heavy guilt she carried over the fact that Rufus had sacrificed himself to save her life. If he hadn’t barked, she would have never looked up to see the wall starting to fall. Or that he’d jumped and pushed her out of the way. It had been a split second between her life and Rufus’s death.

  “I understand completely,” Lyle said sincerely. “Would you consider an alternative ki
nd of therapy, if we can come up with one? Maybe just helping out at the canine clinic. Not having a specific dog assigned to you.”

  She was doubtful it would work but she could try. At least he was trying to work with her. Somehow she had to get past this grief, rebuild her life emotionally and move on. Yet her heart protested with a fresh pang even as she said with caution, “That might work.”

  “If it doesn’t, then we’ll try something else.” His sincere tone and expression convinced her he would at least listen if she complained. Lyle’s comfort was the first she’d had since Rufus had died. She was going to hang onto it.

  He let her hand go and shifted away. “Do you feel up to a bite to eat?”

  “I don’t want to go to the dining room.”

  “It’s too late for that.” He tilted his head toward the glass.

  Cass was shocked to find it was dark. How long had they been sitting there? “I’m so sorry. I made you miss dinner.”

  “Not a problem. Mrs. Renwick will have left me something in the kitchen. Let’s go see what we can find.”

  “I think I’ll just go up to my room.” She wanted to get away. Regain her composure.

  “Nonsense. You must be hungry, and I could use the company while I eat.”

  She had kept Lyle from his hot meal. She owed him. “Okay, I can do that.”

  “Not the most excited acceptance I’ve been given to a dinner invitation, but I’ll take it.” He stood.

  Cass liked his sense of humor. He seemed to take life as it came without too much angst. She lacked that ability. Her way of meeting life’s challenges now consisted of worry, fear of failure and the guilty conviction she hadn’t done enough to make a difference. She wanted to save everyone, give them what her family had received. The chances of achieving that desire were slim to none, but still it was her goal. Now she was just a mass of nerves, help to no one. Not even herself. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “I’ll try to do better in the future.”