Veterinary Partner

by Nancy Wheelton

  Callie rested her elbows on the table and stared at Lauren. What to talk about? “Tell me how your day’s going.”

  “Well, Max is healing well, but I’m worried about coaxing him to walk. He has to try tomorrow. Border collies are an upbeat breed, but Max is too quiet even when you consider the surgery. I swear he knows his family has abandoned him. We know so little about the subtleties of how dogs in a pack communicate. The Macphersons were his pack, and they discarded him. Is that a crazy theory?”

  “No.” Callie tapped her bottom lip with her index finger. “Why don’t I visit him and let him know he has a new pack?”

  Lauren nodded. “Perfect. But don’t bring Becky until you’ve seen him. He’s healing well but has a long row of sutures that might frighten a child.”

  The comment felt like an order, but Callie tamped down her annoyance. “Becky’s seen plenty of sutures. Or are you forgetting all the C-sections?”

  “Sorry, yes. Whatever you think is best.”

  “Can I bring Becky to see the animals another time? She’d like to meet you, too.”

  Lauren leaned back and her eyes shifted from side to side. She didn’t answer.

  Callie filled in the awkward silence. “We’d like to visit, but only if it’s okay. My sister Martha’s here for a few weeks. Can I bring her too?” Maybe that would take the pressure off, make it more like a field trip. Though what made Lauren uncomfortable about it she wasn’t certain.

  “Sure. I’ll let you know when we have something to see.”

  Wasn’t there always something to see at a veterinary clinic? Callie ignored the evasive answer and motioned at her clothing. “I’m not dressed for visiting Max today, but I’ll visit tomorrow. Shall I call first?”

  Callie watched Lauren’s eyes slide over her body. It was a warm look, caressing. She had dressed in tight blue jeans, a lavender V-neck sweater, and matching earrings. She’d piled her hair high on her head and she wore a little mascara. Lauren leaned in to catch the subtle scent of her perfume and Callie grinned. The dreamy expression on Lauren’s face was inviting, and she longed to crawl across the table toward her. Fantasies were always better than reality, though, and that’s where this one would stay. Even if she did like Lauren’s attention.

  “Can I visit him tomorrow? Should I call first?” she asked again. Callie suppressed the urge to laugh when Lauren blushed. Busted, Dr. Cornish.

  “Sure. Val will help you with him if I’m not there. If you coaxed him to walk a few steps that would be great. He needs to believe he can still walk.”

  “Okay. I’ll call tomorrow.” The conversation stalled, and when their lunches arrived, they concentrated on their food and talked about surface things like Callie’s cattle until she stopped them. “Let’s not talk anymore about my animals or calvings, please.”

  “What do we talk about?”

  “Why did you become a vet?”

  Lauren picked at her salad. “Don’t remember. I just always knew. Since I was little. Years ago, when my mother sold her house, I packed up my stuff from when I was a kid. I found a stuffed dog with an ink mark on his leg, where I’d taken blood or given a vaccination or something. I picked my career a long time ago and I don’t recall why.” Lauren blushed again.

  “Ah, sweet. Are your parents veterinarians?” Lauren was extra cute when she blushed. Callie had imagined Lauren was too experienced and confident to blush, given that she was from a big city and all. She wasn’t sorry to be wrong. Lauren’s vulnerability was compelling.

  “My mother has a university degree in English, but she was a stay-at-home mom. My father was a university professor. He taught physiology at the veterinary college in Guelph, Ontario, but he wasn’t a veterinarian.”

  “Is he gone?”

  “He died the year before I graduated from vet school. He never saw me graduate and I still miss him.” She gave a small, brief smile.

  “I’m sorry.” Callie rested her hand over Lauren’s. “I’m sure he was proud of you.”

  “Thanks. How about your parents?”

  “My parents own a berry farm in Surrey, British Columbia. I did a two-year agribusiness course at college and planned to work with them.”

  “You didn’t intend to run a farm at all, then?”

  “Oh, I’ve always loved farming. I’m a country girl at heart. I just never imagined I’d be running a farm with livestock and cash crops, but now I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  “So, no plans to return to British Columbia?”

  “Only every time the temperature dips below minus twenty here.”

  “I hear that. It must be hard to find the time to visit your folks. From what I’ve seen, farming is more than a full-time job.”

  “It is, but I also work for the RCMP part-time. It’s nice getting off the farm and interacting with adults.” The extra cash helped too. Many farmers had two jobs.

  “Is it interesting?”

  “Sometimes, but I’m not solving crimes. I type and file and sometimes cover reception.” Callie shrugged. “Six months after Becky and I settled in Thresherton I went looking for part-time work. I practically pick my hours and the detachment budget even paid for a couple of computer classes in Saskatoon.” Believing he was responsible for assisting the widow of a fellow RCMP officer, the detachment commander had driven out to Poplarcreek and offered her the job. He was a generous man and she was grateful.

  “I can’t imagine how you fit it in.”

  “I usually only work about eight hours a week, but not this calving season. Not when I’m all by myself and have heifers calving.” Callie shook her head. “How does every conversation manage to circle back to my cattle?”

  “That’s agriculture.”

  “Becky’s at the police station almost more often than me so she can visit Mitch. Officer Mitchell is our good friend from British Columbia. I don’t know if you’ve met? It was a gift to move to Thresherton and find her here. The first year I was here Mitch was at the farm all the time helping with whatever I needed. On her weekends off she took Becky for a day. She said it was to give me a break, but she always made it fun for Becky.”

  “That’s a good friend.”

  “She is. She visits less often, but still steals Becky away for the odd day of fun.”

  They chatted for a while longer about school, traveling, and life in Saskatchewan. Then Lauren peered at her phone. “Twelve fifty already. I feel as if I sat down ten minutes ago. I wish I could stay longer.”

  Callie dropped cash and a generous tip on the table. She liked that Lauren didn’t insist on paying. Liz would have.

  Lauren accompanied Callie to her truck. “Here’s the insulated bag and container from last night. Thanks for dinner. That was really considerate.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “Tell Martha I said thank you too, please. My mother told me never to return a dish empty, but I’m not brave enough to cook for you.” Lauren scratched the nape of her neck. “Fiona was at Kingsway Farm this morning and picked up eggs for me. I put a dozen in your bag in lieu of my cooking.”

  “Thanks. I love Kingsway eggs.”

  “Thanks for lunch.”

  “You’re welcome.” Lauren started to turn away just as Callie leaned in for quick hug. It was awkward and Callie ended up hugging Lauren’s shoulder. She stepped back inexplicably dissatisfied and slightly embarrassed.

  Callie waved at Lauren, then she climbed into her truck and drove away. She circled the block to drive by Lauren and wave one more time. But Lauren was strolling along the sidewalk and didn’t notice her drive past. Callie turned on the radio and sang along as she headed home.

  Lauren had checked her out, and it generated a wave of warmth that flowed through Callie, making her wonder… She slammed on the brakes and skidded, stopping with one front tire hanging over the ditch. Callie backed onto the road and straightened her truck. She wasn’t interested in Lauren in that way and she’d just been looking at her clothes. “We’r
e friends. Yes, friends with similar interests. Nothing more.”

  As she drove on, Callie pondered their conversation. She’d done most of the talking, and once again, she’d learned very little about Dr. Lauren Cornish.

  Chapter Ten

  “That was an amazing class, Becky,” Callie said. “You’ve worked hard and I’m proud of you.” It was Monday night, and Callie and Becky were in town for Becky’s painting class. “Would you like to go to PVS and visit the animals? Dr. Cornish invited us.” It was four days since their lunch date, and she was pleased that Lauren had called. She hadn’t forgotten about her request to visit PVS.

  “Yes, please.” Becky bounced in her seat.

  Callie drove into the PVS parking lot. She spotted Lauren’s truck and another car. She didn’t want to get in the way. What if Lauren was dealing with an emergency? Callie parked behind the clinic and they climbed out.

  As they approached the door, laugher floated from the building. It was a sweet, musical woman’s voice, but not Lauren’s. She loved Lauren’s laugh, but it was deeper and not as loud. Callie froze. Becky was there to see the animals, but Callie was at PVS to see Lauren. Hopefully, she wasn’t interrupting anything. Becky tugged on her hand and hopped in excitement until she moved forward.

  “Come on, Mommy. Let’s go.”

  Callie squared her shoulders and knocked. An instant later, the door flew open and Val grinned at them.

  “Hey, Becky, hey, Callie. Come and join the party.”

  “V.C., come here, quick.” Lauren called from somewhere deep in the clinic.

  Val pointed to hooks by the door. “Hang up your coats but keep your boots on. On my way, L.C.” Val jogged from sight.

  They removed their coats, hats, and gloves, and headed into the treatment room. Lauren and Val stood shoulder to shoulder, with their backs to Callie as they struggled with something on the table. Lauren and Val were laughing hard, with their mouths inches apart. Callie couldn’t help the jolt of jealousy at their easy banter.

  Callie followed Becky into the room. “What’re you doing?” Becky’s voice rose to end on a squeak. “Why’re you putting clothes on that kitten?”

  Lauren looked at her with a wide smile. “You must be Becky. You’re very observant, my friend. We are indeed dressing Mr. Paws, but he’s a grouchy kitten.” The kitten was hissing and scratching, but he was so small his tantrum was cute.

  Becky fired off questions. “How old is he? Is he soft? Where’s his mom? Is he hurt? May I hold Mr. Paws, please?”

  “Just a second.” Lauren focused on the struggling kitten. “There we are.” Lauren raised the little cat in triumph. It was a brown tabby kitten sporting a bright red shirt. “Hi, Callie. Did you bring Martha?”

  “I invited her, but she’s taking an online accounting course and wanted to catch up on her homework. She’s been helping me so much she’s fallen behind.”

  “What about this one, Mommy?” Gwen entered from the next room with another kitten in her arms. “Hi, Mrs. Anderson. Hi, Becky.”

  Callie grinned at Gwen. It was impossible not to like her. She was a tiny eight-year-old, with the same red hair and blue eyes as her mother. “Hello, Gwen.”

  Callie had met Gwen on Becky’s first day of school in Thresherton. She and Becky had been waiting for the school bell. Becky was toeing the ground with her boot and clutching her knapsack against her chest as if it were a shield. Gwen had jogged toward them full of big smiles and announced, “We both have lesbian moms so we should be friends.” Callie could have hugged Gwen. As accepting as society was becoming, it still helped kids with same-sex parents to have peers who understood the challenges of their nontraditional families.

  Becky glanced at Gwen and then at Lauren and then back at Gwen. Callie watched Becky waver between petting the kitten Gwen held and waiting for Lauren’s answers.

  “His name’s not Mr. Paws, but it could be. I name all the kittens Mr. or Ms. Paws until they have a real name.” Lauren blushed. “He needs a little shirt to cover the sore on his back to keep him from licking it.” Lauren lifted the little cat’s red shirt to show Becky and Callie the quarter-sized area of red, raw skin. “He has to quit licking the sore or it won’t heal. I prefer shirts instead of cone collars on tiny kittens because they have problems walking with the cones on and it keeps them from cuddling with the other kittens.”

  Gwen crinkled her nose. “And they get gross and yucky when they eat wearing a cone collar.”

  Lauren nodded. “That’s true. He’s six weeks old and you may hold him, but don’t touch his back, please.”

  Becky held out her hands for the kitten and peered up at Callie. At Callie’s nod, Becky accepted the little cat and at once cuddled him to her chest. Becky’s reward was a tiny motor. “He’s purring.” Becky squealed, delighted.

  Callie looked away from Becky to find Lauren’s green eyes and bright smile focused on her.

  Val opened the door that led from the treatment room. “Come on, girls. Let’s take those kittens into the next room where the others are.”

  Callie glanced at Val, and Val winked. After they departed, Callie wanted to swallow her words, but they escaped. “Val is nice. And attractive, too.” Subtle.

  Lauren shrugged slightly. “Val is outgoing, and I admire her for the way she interacts with clients. She knows when to help them and cajole or shame them into taking care of their pets. She’s even better with the animals.” Lauren looked at Callie thoughtfully.

  Callie stuffed her hands into her pockets and poked at a piece of crumpled paper on the floor with the toe of her boot. “I see.”

  “No, you don’t see.” Lauren stepped closer. “Number one, I work with Val. Number two, she’s way younger than I am, and number three,” Lauren counted on her fingers, “she’s dating somebody in the city. Number four, we’re great friends, and number five, I’m—” She stopped as two giggling girls bounced into the room with arms full of kittens. Lauren swiveled to face Becky, and Gwen and inspect the kittens.

  I’m what? Callie screamed in her head. What was Lauren going to say?

  Val followed the girls into the room. She caught Callie’s eye and mouthed, “I’m sorry” above the bent heads of the girls.

  Those few unspoken words combined with the sympathetic expression on Val’s face told Callie everything she needed to know. She smiled in gratitude, a little embarrassed she was so transparent. “You two are working late.”

  Val grinned. “PVS has become the unofficial local SPCA and rescue shelter. Ian and Fiona support the rescue project as much as they can afford to with housing and medical supplies. The community donates bags of food.”

  Callie nodded. “That’s generous.”

  “The deal is whichever veterinarian I get to help me has to see the rescue patients on their own time. In the evenings, Lauren and I spay or neuter stray animals and some nights we treat sick kittens.” Val poked Lauren in the side. “I had no trouble convincing you to join me when you moved to Thresherton.”

  Bent over a kitten, Lauren twisted to stick her tongue out at Val. Then she gazed up at Callie. “It’s true. I am a willing accomplice.”

  Callie felt special for being included in the camaraderie of the circle. She had never seen Lauren playful and unguarded before. Gwen chatted nonstop to Lauren, and Lauren smiled fondly as she answered the girls’ many questions. Gwen all but hung off Lauren’s arm, and Becky crowded close, making it more difficult for Lauren to treat the kittens.

  It was another thirty minutes before they finished. They had cleaned sores and medicated the kittens. Two now sported little shirts. Becky cuddled a kitten that had brown ears with black, hairless tips.

  “The kitten had frostbite and the top halves of its ears froze.” Lauren shifted like she was going to put her arm around Becky’s shoulders, but then paused and let her arm drop instead. “Now the tips of his ears are black because they’re dead.”

  “Will his ears heal?” Becky asked.

  Lauren shook he
r head. “When he’s stronger and has eaten lots of good dinners, we’ll do surgery on him to remove the black bits. Mr. Paws will look different with short ears, but he’ll be a happier kitten afterward.”

  A few minutes later, the kittens lay curled together in their fleece bed. Lauren and Val cleaned the treatment room and then everyone traipsed to the back door.

  Val and Gwen tugged on their coats. “Night, Callie. Night, Becky. See you tomorrow, L.C.” After a quick wave from Val and after Lauren hugged Gwen, the Connors exited the clinic.

  Lauren grimaced. “Sorry the kittens took so long.”

  Callie gazed into Becky’s happy face. “They were fun, but is it too late for us to visit with Max?” She’d been by twice to see Max. It was unfortunate Lauren had been out of the clinic on both her visits, but this morning when she visited, Val told her Max was going to survive, so there were no worries about Becky becoming attached to an animal that might die.

  “Not at all. Follow me.” Lauren led them to the room with the dog runs. At five feet by twelve feet, the runs weren’t large enough for a dog to go far, but they could jump and stretch their legs.

  Max’s tail thumped when he saw Lauren, but he didn’t move. He lay on a thick fleece blanket with his head in a cone collar resting beside his remaining front leg. Sad, anxious eyes flitted between Callie and Lauren. When Max spotted Becky, he lifted his head and glanced from Lauren to Becky and back. Callie imagined he was asking if Lauren had brought him a playmate.

  Lauren opened the door to Max’s run and removed the cone collar. Max slowly got to his feet and hobbled on three legs toward Becky. “Wow! We always have to lift him or coax him to stand. He walked right over to you,” Lauren said to Becky.

  After receiving permission from Callie, Becky petted the dog with small, tentative strokes to his head. “Max is Lisa’s dog.”

  “Not anymore. He lives here now,” Lauren said.

  Actually, Max belonged to Callie and therefore Becky, but she hadn’t told her and she’d requested Lauren not tell her yet, either. She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up, but it was time to start the process.