Farraday Country

by Chris Keniston

  Uncle Sean looked off in the direction he planned to go, then back at Ian. “Maybe I should come with you.”

  “Nonsense. This time we don’t need an extra pair of eyes.”

  His uncle hesitated, weighing Ian’s words. “You’re probably right. I’ll meet you back at the ranch house before supper.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Ian mounted his cousin Finn’s horse. The well-trained animal responded to the barest touch. He could have picked any horse to ride and they all would prove to be excellent cow horses. Though all his cousins were fantastic with ranch animals, Connor especially work wonders with any horse from any background. Even though Ian had grown up watching his cousin’s special way with all animals, especially the horses, it still surprised him just how good Connor was and how much he could accomplish.

  Brandy knew the way home. Ian considered riding straight over to check out the fence line but thought better of keeping the horse out any longer. He’d barely touched ground when a brief clatter caught his attention. Hesitating, he listened carefully. Nothing. He wasn’t even sure which direction the noise had come from. Brandy had been cooled, brushed, and put back in her stall when Ian heard another clatter and clunk sound and this time he could tell it came from the direction of the house.

  There was no doubt that his aunt was still in town with the Ladies club, Uncle Sean was out working, and Sam and Connor were in a far pasture installing some new fence line. Neither of them was expected back until much later. So who, or what, was rattling around near the house?

  Not that he really expected to find trouble, but with the possibility of rustlers in the area, and knowing all too well how easily trouble had a way of finding you, he reached for a rifle and made sure it was loaded. Keeping an empty rifle at a ranch made no sense, but he’d done his job long enough to know, always check your weapon.

  Taking slow careful steps in an effort to remain as quiet as possible, he followed the direction of the out of place sounds. Nearly to the back porch he tucked himself behind an overgrown sage bush and carefully scanned the property from left to right, taking in every window and door looking for a point of entry. Not noticing anything out of place, he surveyed the situation one more time when another louder clatter drew his attention to the east side of the house.

  Unable to see from where he stood, he risked stepping out into the open and taking wider steps, hurried around to the corner and pressed himself against the siding. Tossing his hat behind him, he craned around the corner for a better look. Nothing. But something had made the noises. Then he heard it again, another clank. This time an overturned trashcan banged against the cement foundation. Immediately Ian turned his attention to the windows overhead. No sign of open glass or flowing curtains.

  Ian hissed out a soft sigh. With no sign of human life, he braced himself for the other option. A critter. His aunt had been grumbling about trouble with bobcats and coyotes. Though this close to the house those were rarely a problem, he’d rather shoot a burglar or a rustler than an adventurous animal scavenging for his next meal. He really didn’t like having to shoot God’s critters. Now the two legged animals who deserved to fry in hell for the rest of their lives, those he didn’t have a problem aiming at.

  Another clashing of trash bin against wall had Ian squinting at his target. Whatever was responsible couldn’t be that large. He saw no sign of angry bobcat or disgruntled coyote. So what the hell was causing this ruckus? Slowly moving forward, he kept the rifle trained at the disarrayed containers. He could see now these were the ones his aunt used for storing biodegradable trash before someone hauled it off to the larger compost pile across the yard. His mom had been forced to do the same thing when keeping discarded coffee grinds and banana peels in the kitchen brought crawly things into the house that didn’t belong inside.

  Without a sound, the bin already laying to its side shifted slightly away from the house as Ian came within striking distance of the culprit. Prepared for a vicious or even rabid animal, silently praying for anything but a skunk, he almost doubled over laughing when a wagging tail appeared slowly backing out of the can.

  Rear end shifting in time with the happy tail, a furry pup raised his head. Catching Ian’s gaze, the little guy’s tail moved in double-time.

  The herding mix of some kind appeared well groomed and fed. Quickly, he shifted his attention to the huge dog pen where his uncle kept the cattle dogs. He wasn’t aware of any new litters, but King was almost at the age to retire so it wouldn’t have surprised Ian if King had recently sired pups, and for his uncle to have decided to keep the pick of the litter. Except the pen door was closed, confirming this pup had not escaped from here.

  “So who do you belong to?” Ian turned his attention back to the puppy and for the first time noticed the little rascal clamped tightly to a nice chunk of chicken carcass between his teeth. “Sorry, boy. Chicken is a no no.” Ian set the gun aside and squatted onto his haunches. “Come here, boy. Let me have that.”

  His rear end high in the air, the little guy leaned low on his front paws and bit down on the bones.

  “Don’t do that!” Ian shifted forward as quickly as he could without startling the dog.

  Unfortunately, the pup wasn’t stupid. For a second, Ian almost thought he smiled as he raised up and trotted several feet away before facing Ian again—tail in the air, paws down—and settled in to gnaw away.

  Ian had learned the hard way that cooked chicken bones and dogs do not mix. He’d been about eight years old when old Buddy stole a chicken bone from his sister Hannah’s plate. A stray the family had adopted years before, Buddy had been mostly well trained. Ian’s dad had done a good job of it, but regardless, Buddy still had a hard time resisting food at his muzzle’s height. Hannah putting the dish down on the coffee table had been too much temptation for the old dog. He managed to gnaw the chicken bone down to a mere stub by the time they’d found him. His father gave them all a strong lecture on chicken bones and dogs, but Buddy appeared to be no worse off for his thieving. They’d been lucky, or so they’d thought. The next morning his dad found the dog in the back hall. His mom and dad told the kids the old dog had died of natural causes, and there was always the possibility that having eaten the chicken bone was a mere coincidence, but Ian had overheard his parents talking. More likely, Buddy had regurgitated the stolen chicken and choked on a splintered bone.

  From stray to stray, Ian was not going to let that happen again. “Come here, fella,” he said softly with a smile, inching his way forward. “How about I trade you that scrawny bone for a nice thick juicy steak?”

  The dog shouldn’t have understood a word he said, but nonetheless, the puppy paused, perked his ears, tipped his head sideways and appeared to be contemplating the bargain.

  Not one to miss an opportunity, Ian lunged forward and grabbed hold of the protruding bones, willing to risk sharp canines if it saved the dog. Almost a game of tug-of-war, Ian pulled at the bone with one hand and scratched behind the puppy’s ear with the other. It took all of a few seconds for the animal to decide that belly rubs were better than chicken, and roll over onto his back.

  “Now who do you belong to? And what are you doing all the way out here by yourself?” Ian rubbed at the puppy’s tummy and looked around for any sign of siblings or maybe a mama dog, not that he really expected to find one. This guy didn’t look or behave like a feral dog. “We’re going to have to show you to Uncle Sean and see what he thinks.”

  The dog rolled back upright and squirming happily, stretched his neck ready to lick Ian’s face. Then he backed up, nodding his head, but it was the awful gagging sound that had Ian prying the dogs mouth open and feeling around for a caught bone. “Damn it.”

  Tail no longer wagging, even the puppy seemed to know this wasn’t right. Continuing to gurgle and struggle, the little guy looked up at Ian and he’d have sworn the pup was reproving him for not helping.

  “Looks like you’re going to meet my cousin Adam before his dad.”


  Cautiously lifting the dog under his arm, careful not to jar him or move the bone, making things worse, he ran through the house, grabbing keys and a nearby laundry basket and towel. Within seconds he had the dog comfortably on the towel in the basket on the floor boards of the old pickup, still gagging but thank God, still breathing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Yes, Mrs. Peabody, I’ll make sure to tell Doc Adam as soon as he’s back.” Kelly had been fielding or making phone calls all day. Shortly after the vet clinic had opened the doors this morning, Adam got an emergency call from one of the ranches. He and Becky had left immediately and Kelly had been on the phone rearranging appointments all day. Thankfully most of the scheduled appointments were for some routine wellness check or vaccination updates. Only Mrs. Peabody was distraught over her cat Sadie, who was off her food and definitely not pregnant since she’d been spayed after popping out the last litter. Kelly prayed that this was another situation where the pet’s owner was merely being a hypochondriac and not the one time that the poor animal actually needed Adam and couldn’t wait.

  Not more than five minutes had passed when the hinges squeaked on the front door. From her seat behind the counter, she could hear the sound of an animal in trouble followed by deep familiar male voice. “Need to see Adam.” Ian Farraday stood in front of her, his gaze anxious, holding a laundry basket with…

  “How did you get Hannah’s puppy?” Already on her feet and halfway around the counter at the sound of the puppy in distress, Kelly pointed to the first exam room just up the hall.

  “More like how did he get me, but whoever he is, he needs help.” Ian followed Kelly into the small room.

  “Where did you find him?”

  Ian set the pup and basket down on the examination table. “In the compost pile at the ranch.”

  “At the ranch? So he’s been choking for an hour?” Kelly should have said at least an hour since that’s how long it should take to drive into town. She wasn’t an animal tech, but she’d worked at the clinic long enough to observe and learn a thing or two. She pulled out a pen light to better see down the dog’s throat.

  “Yeah,” Ian bobbed his head, “he’s getting tired too.”

  Careful not to worsen the puppy’s condition, Kelly lifted his chin slightly and shone the light down his throat, wishing for something she could easily reach for and remove. “I don’t see anything.” She scratched behind the still wheezing and gurgling dog’s ears and reached for the nearby phone on the wall.

  “It’s going to be okay, boy,” Ian encouraged.

  Without looking up, the puppy thwacked his tail against the tabletop once, then twice, before it stilled.

  “Adam.” Kelly pushed speakerphone. “Ian just came in with Dale and Hannah’s puppy. He’s gagging on a chicken bone, but I don’t see anything in his throat even with the light.”

  “How’s his breathing?”

  “Shallow. He’s struggling. He’s tried coughing it out a few times.”

  “He was doing it constantly at first,” Ian added.

  “We’re about fifteen minutes out. He’ll need an x-ray. Do you think you can handle it, Kel?”

  She nodded, her gaze focused on Ian’s large hands gently scratching the puppy, keeping him calm and then realized Adam couldn’t see her. “If I run into trouble I’ll go out back and get Marti to help.” One of the large animal techs, Marti was doing post-op duty with a couple of the patients the doc had operated on yesterday that were still in critical condition. She hoped this fellow didn’t come to that.

  “Atta girl. Are Dale or Hannah there?”

  “No. It doesn’t sound like they know he’s hurt.”

  “All right. We’ll give Hannah a quick call. Just keep him as calm and still as you can until I get there.”

  “That’s the plan.” Kelly hung up, running all the times she’d helped with x-rays through her mind and almost smiled at the soothing gentle attention Ian showed the worn out pup. “Looks like he’ll give you another hour or two to stop that.”

  “No kidding.” He flashed her a hint of the famed Farraday smile.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll carry the basket, you just keep scratching his ears and chin.”

  Ian nodded. She was a little surprised at his willingness to follow her instructions. Not that she expected him to be unreasonable, but it seemed that lately the only kind of man she ran into were the ones who balked at following any suggestion, never mind orders, given by a woman.

  Everything set in the other room, keeping the dog still long enough to get a decent picture had been much easier than she’d expected. Too easy. Kelly didn’t like it one bit. Rather than move him again, she opted to wait in this room for Adam. “Poor fellow.” She gently rubbed his side as Ian continued to scratch by his chin. The puppy struggled to breathe but had given up on trying to cough up the bone, and staying perfectly still, whimpered softly.

  “He’s such a sweet pup. I hate to see him suffer.” Ian alternated from scratching behind the dog’s ears to under his chin and back.

  Once again the front door squeaked open followed by the sound of pounding heels coming up the hall.

  Adam came through the door first. “How’s he doing?”

  “He seems calmer,” Ian said.

  Immediately Adam approached the injured animal, quickly evaluating the situation. “Let’s look at those x-rays.”

  Becky placed the x-rays on the lit panel as Adam added, “Couldn’t get a hold of Hannah, but Dale is on his way.”

  “Here’s the problem.”

  As many x-rays as Kelly had seen, she was still surprised she could clearly recognize the jagged outline of the small bone caught low in the puppy’s throat.

  “And here.” Adam pointed to the additional x-ray Kelly had thought to take of the animal’s abdomen. “This fragment has perforated the bowel causing internal bleeding. We’ll have to prep him for surgery.”

  “Then he’ll be okay?” Ian asked.

  Adam patted his cousin on the shoulder. “I hope so.”

  Filling the hall, Dale’s voice grew louder as he approached the x-ray room. “Got it. Okay. Love you more.”

  From the face splitting grin, it was obvious Hannah had been on the other end of the cell. The second his gaze fell on the lethargic puppy, the smile disappeared. Dropping his phone into his breast pocket, he crossed the small space in only two steps and joining his cousin, began gently scratching the scruff of the puppy’s neck. “I don’t know who this little guy is, but our pup is at the arena with Hannah.”

  ****

  A stunned moment of silence passed as it registered with everybody that a new puppy had worked its way into their lives. Well, Ian’s life.

  “We’ll have to worry about who he belongs to later.” Becky nudged her way between Kelly and Ian, hovering over the puppy. “Time to get cracking.”

  As Adam and Becky hurried out the door to the OR, a heaviness pressed against Ian’s rib cage at the thought this could be the last time he saw the puppy. In a little more than an hour somehow he had managed to grow very attached to the four-legged fur ball. Not until Kelly lightly laid her fingertips against his elbow and nudged him forward did he realize he’d stood almost paralyzed in place.

  “I’d better send a message to Uncle Sean and let him know I’m going to be a little longer getting home.”

  “You don’t have to wait here. Adam will take good care of him and see that he’s comfortable. I’ll put the word out to see if we can track down who that pup belongs to.”

  Dale followed the two out of the x-ray room. “Don’t be surprised if you don’t find anybody.”

  “What do you mean?” Ian looked over his shoulder.

  Shrugging, Dale raised his eyebrows. “I’m just saying, this puppy looks enough like our dog to be a litter mate. And if that’s the case, then the dog doesn’t belong to anybody. Except maybe his parents. And that mystery has yet to be solved.”

  “Mystery?” Ian asked

  Ke
lly stuttered to a stop. “You think he belongs to the strays?”

  “I haven’t a clue. I’m just guessing here.” Dale shook his head. “I’m off duty in about an hour. I’ll pop back and check on him. Let me know if there’s any news before that.”

  “Will do,” Kelly said.

  The front door closed behind Dale and Ian turned to the woman beside him. Her gaze lingered off into space, her intense focus on some unknown point. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

  “Hmm?” She pivoted to face him.

  “You look worried. It’s that serious, isn’t it?”

  She blinked a couple of times, then shifted her attention down the hall to the OR and back. “Maybe not.”

  “But you are worried? I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Oh. Not really. I was just lost in thought a moment.”

  A small part of him was delighted that she didn’t fear the worst for the puppy, but another part of him already didn’t like whatever situation or circumstance had her looking so distraught. “Anything I can help with?”

  Shaking her head, whether in response to him, or physically trying to rattle away unpleasant thoughts, she took a step back and forced a light chuckle. “No. I guess I was just contemplating the immortality of the crab.”

  The not often used expression reminded him of his Aunt Helen. It was one of those things she always said to the kids whenever they asked her what she was thinking about. It had been a horrible blow for a young boy when he finally understood that he’d never see her again. The loss had been hard enough to take, but he couldn’t even begin to fathom the hurt his cousins had felt. The entire family had been incredibly fortunate that their Aunt Eileen had stepped into her sister’s shoes without skipping a beat. Which reminded him that she was across the street playing cards. “I’d better call Aunt Eileen and let her know what’s going on too.”