“Shelby cares more about a few stray cats than she does about her love life,” Mae muttered. Lucky bounded over to her and rested his head on her knee. Mae stroked his broad forehead. “You’re a beast.”
“You’re not fooling anyone, Mae.” And neither was Shelby. She was blushing. “Even the dog can see through your facade.” Shelby led Gage to a corner where the mirror and dais had stood a few days ago, dropping smoothly to her knees to press her ear to the wall. “I think they’re here.”
Gage knelt in front of her and set the tools down.
“Thank you for coming,” Shelby whispered. “I didn’t expect you to after... You know. Last night.”
The deepening blush in her cheeks unsteadied him. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her leg for balance. It wasn’t as if they’d never touched each other before, but she startled. “Get over it,” he grumbled. “If we’re not going to talk about it, you have to get over me touching you. I’ll try not to.” Because touching her made him want to kiss her again.
Her eyes widened, dilated, as her gaze dropped to his mouth. He may have been in love with her for years, but that didn’t mean he had no experience with other women. He recognized she wasn’t indifferent to him. Now that he had her attention, she knew how to interpret the signals he was sending.
“Yep,” he said, feeling more confident than he had all morning. “You’re reading me right.” He wanted to kiss her.
She gulped, but didn’t argue or protest or draw away.
Everything’s going to be all right.
Whether he stayed in Harmony Valley or left, whether he and Shelby were successful at rebuilding their friendship or not. For the first time in days, Gage felt free.
“What are you two whispering about?” Mae asked. “It’s rude to whisper.”
“Shelby shouldn’t take Lucky without permission.” He released Shelby, picking up the hammer. “Lucky is still under my care.”
At the sound of his name, Lucky left Mae and came to sit next to Shelby.
She rubbed the ruff beneath Lucky’s collar. “I... Can we talk about us later?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I thought we’d talk about a lot of things last night. Or this morning.”
“Later,” Shelby whispered with a glance in Mae’s direction. “I promise.”
Something rustled in the walls, followed by a soft mew.
He’d make sure they talked later. For now, there were kittens in need of rescue. He tapped his hammer against the wallboard, trying to find a stud to the right or left of where he thought he’d heard a kitten. The sound of the hammer striking plaster must have worried the kittens because the mewling stopped instantly. He found a hollow point about two feet from the floor, high enough to be above any small cat. He swung the hammer through the lath and plaster. Dust, and debris heaved from the resulting hole, spewing onto him and the floor.
“They used to insulate the walls with newspaper and horsehair,” Mae said. “Looks like it’s disintegrated.”
Shelby leaned in closer. “I can’t see anything.”
“Give me a minute to make a bigger hole.” Using his hammer, Gage yanked as much of the wood planking and plaster finish free as he could. “Flashlight,” he requested using his doctor voice.
Lucky tried to poke his nose through the hole. Gage nudged him away with an elbow. “Lucky, stay back.”
Shelby handed Gage the flashlight. He could feel her anxiety to see what was in the wall, but he recalled seeing signs of rats upstairs. He pushed her gently back, as well. “There’s a possibility that you’ve been hearing rats.”
“There are kittens in there,” Shelby said firmly.
“Acoustics can distort sound, Shel. If this is a rat’s nest, I’d rather the mama rat leaped out on me than you.”
“Oh.” With a slight shudder, she gave him some space. “By all means, proceed.”
He angled his head in and managed to see down to the floor with the light. There was debris, like a nest on the bottom. “They’re not here.” However, bits of fur edged the old posts, long, fluffy and orange. Not a ratlike color. “But they were. I can see the signs. There’s some kind of hole in the beam, large enough for a kitten to crawl through.” He knocked on the adjoining wall, presumably the sheriff’s office.
A deep, unintelligible voice rumbled in answer.
“Those kittens are leading you on a game of cat and mouse.” Mae chuckled. Her low laughter turned into a harsh cough.
Shelby went to the old woman’s side, rubbing her back. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call Nate to come get you? We could use his help with these kittens.”
“Nate?” Jealousy stabbed at Gage. What was happening to him?
Both women gave him a knowing nod, which only prodded at his ego.
“We don’t need the sheriff. I’ve got this.” Easy, boy. No need to mark territory you’ve no right to.
“I think the sheriff is just what we need.” Mae smiled cryptically. “His office shares this wall. Perhaps he’s seen these kittens. Perhaps Gage’s looming hammer has sent them into Nate’s arms.”
“Don’t torture him, Mae.” Shelby turned to Gage. “Can we just save some kittens, please?”
The sheriff entered, looking hero-like in clean jeans and a pristine, tan sheriff’s shirt. Even his badge had a shine. Gage brushed off some dust, but there was dog vomit on his work boots.
“This is better than my soaps.” Mae sat up in her chair. “It’s time I went home, Nate, and I’m taking a box full of dresses with me. I bet you can lift it all by yourself, you being such a big strong man.”
Gage gritted his teeth. “I can help you with the box, Nate.”
“I love it when men get ruffled.” Mae stood, leaning heavily on her cane. “It only proves how serious they are about a woman.”
“Now it really is time for you to leave,” Shelby said with an apologetic look in Gage’s direction. The blush was back in her cheeks.
After the sheriff and Mae left, Gage checked the time on his cell phone. If he didn’t leave for Davis soon, he’d be stuck in traffic an additional hour.
“You’re upset and I’ve interrupted your day. I owe you an explanation. About last night.” Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “The kiss was nice.”
Gage thought he might sink to his knees to give thanks.
Except the look on her face wasn’t elation or joy. In fact, it threatened to rob him of any strength he had left. It was the let-you-down-easy face.
“The kiss was nice,” she said again, unaware that he’d rationalized his way leaps and bounds ahead of her. “But I’m not looking for anything with anyone.”
He put a hand on the wall for support. He should have driven to Davis after she called, then on to Kentucky.
“What you do is dangerous,” she was saying. “Unsafe.”
Safe? No one was safe.
He held up a hand. “You want someone who doesn’t take chances?”
“I don’t want anyone,” she reiterated, staring at the floor.
“If I stayed here,” he began as diplomatically as if he was discussing treatment options. “And practiced in Harmony Valley—”
“Gage.” She came closer and gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “I’d never ask you to give up something as important as your dreams.”
No. She’d never ask. But those were the conditions: give up horse deliveries and treat small animals.
He thought about the rush he experienced delivering foals and how people in the horse breeding industry sought out and accepted his advice. Their validation was important to him. “I won’t give up Kentucky.”
As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. It was Nick laying claim to her all over again. He and Shelby weren’t destined to be together. No matter how many times he circled the issue, the
conclusion was always the same.
“So. On with the kitten rescue?” She seemed to have come to the same conclusion he had.
Gage nodded. Now wasn’t the time to lament lost opportunities.
Gage rose to his feet, taking stock of the situation. “We need to be as reassuring as possible to these kittens, which means ol’ Captain here can’t be part of the rescue unit.” He shut Lucky in the storage room and opened up a hole in the wall by the front of the shop.
He refused to feel anything. He denied his disappointment, squashed the memory of Shelby in his arms, the taste of her lips, or the sunshine of her smile.
She crouched next to him and shoved a high-heeled shoe into the hole, preventing the kittens from escaping to another part of the wall. “It was destined for the trash,” she explained. “If the kittens come this way, they’ll be blocked.”
“Good idea. You take the front.” He returned to their original hole. Any more damage to the walls and the store would look as if it should have a little graffiti. “If I pound on sections, starting back here, and work my way to the front, that should flush them to you.”
Gage began hammering in the corner. Pausing, he thought he heard the soft sounds of scrambling paws. “Don’t let them see you.” He moved forward and sent the hammer through the wall a few feet up, prying out slats to make sure no kittens were hiding in the section below. Another few steps and he made another hole.
He’d made three holes in the wall before a scrawny, orange kitten tumbled out near the front of the shop. Shelby immediately snatched it up. “There’s one more. It went back.”
Gage sent the hammer through the wall above what he anticipated was the kitten’s path. He reached into the small space and it was as if he was reaching into a birth canal, only from this one came something small, dry and furry.
He lifted out an orange and white tabby. The pair of felines looked to be three weeks old and nearly starved.
Shelby cradled the orange striped kitten, an expression of utter devotion on her face.
She’d make a good mother.
Once she realized love was safe, not the other way around.
And that would be when Gage was long gone to Kentucky.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHELBY HELD THE two thin, trembling kittens in her lap while Gage drove them all to the clinic. Bribed by a dog treat, Lucky sat in the middle of the bench seat, occasionally snuffling the kittens and drenching them in slobber.
“I’m a mess,” Shelby admitted. “Dog drool, kitten fur, plaster, dust, sweat.” The aftereffects of a kiss, the threat of another, followed by agreement that there would be no more kisses or threats thereof. What a morning. “I must look scary.”
“You look great,” Gage said without so much as a sideways glance. “You always look great.”
Shelby leaned against Lucky’s solid shoulder, wishing it was Gage’s. They drove the rest of the way in silence. Even the kittens were quiet.
Felix Libby, the town’s number one cat lover, met them at the clinic with feline formula and a take-charge attitude.
“How did you know we’d found them?” Shelby asked.
“Mae called.” Felix took the orange tiger from the cradle of Shelby’s arms, studying it through very thick glasses. The small cat nearly disappeared in the former fire chief’s big hands. “And I called War. We’ll need—”
“I’ll get what we need after we do a preliminary exam.” With a resigned smile, Gage handed off the orange and white kitten to Shelby before heading down the hall with Lucky at his side.
“I thought you were off to deliver another racehorse.” Shelby’s grandfather rocked back in his chair behind the front desk.
“Change of plans.” Gage’s voice held a defeated note.
Grandpa winked at Shelby, as if something significant had just occurred. She hurried after Gage, finding him in an exam room. Lucky was curled up in a corner. “Don’t tell me you stayed in town when you should have been elsewhere.”
He flashed that charmer smile at her, the one he used when he needed just a few extra minutes to finish a test or wanted a female bartender to bring them a free plate of nachos. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t. Her head was shaking. Her hands, too. “I should have talked to you last night. I should have said something to you this morning. Then you could have left without...without...” Without whatever their kiss might have meant had she been brave enough to face up to it.
“Shel,” he said softly, coming forward to stroke the ear of the kitten. “It’s just one delivery. There’ll probably be another one in a few days and a slew of them in Kentucky. I was happy to help at Mae’s.”
He hadn’t been. She’d seen his indecision when he’d pulled up to Dream Day Bridal.
“War tells me you’re conducting the exam in here.” Felix lumbered into the room, a challenge in his voice. “They’re dehydrated and starved and may not make it if you don’t hurry.”
Despite Felix stating the obvious, Gage’s smile never wavered. “It’ll only take a few minutes.” And it did. Gage performed a gentle exam—ears, eyes, nose, mouth—plus a gentle assessment of their bodies. “This one has a kink in its tail. Not too bad a mark when you consider what the little girl has been through.”
Sure enough, the orange and white kitten’s tail was bent near the tip.
“They’re ready for their first feeding.” Gage brought the chair from the second exam room so Shelby and Felix could both sit. He dug into Felix’s bag of supplies.
Felix tried to order Gage about. “You need to—”
“I know.” Gage prepped two bottles of formula.
The orange tabby gave a loud meow in Felix’s arms. “She’s probably constipated. We’ll need—”
“Damp gauze to wipe them down after they eat.” Gage’s smile was bright and softened the older man’s objections. “The wipe stimulates the anal glands. I’ve got this.”
“I suppose you do,” the older man admitted, settling back into his chair and feeding the kitten.
Grandpa leaned against the doorjamb. “How could a man who knows so much and cares so much about animals be a copper thief?”
“He couldn’t.” Felix glanced up at Gage and gave him a nod of respect.
The orange and white kitten in Shelby’s arms burped, then began purring, kneading her arms with its small, sharp claws.
Gage handed Shelby a piece of damp gauze. “I’ll prep a box.” As he left the room, his phone rang. His voice became distant as he walked along the hallway. “I’m sorry, Dr. Thomason. There was an emergency here. I can be there—”
Shelby’s gaze fell to the kitten, whose eyes had closed. Then she spied Lucky, and his big brown eyes stared soulfully at her, as if he wasn’t fooled by Gage’s smile either.
He regretted staying.
When Gage spoke again, his voice was a mix of apology, disappointment and anger. “Dr. Faraji did the right thing. I’m sure there was nothing more that could have been done.”
There was silence in the clinic. And then the back door banged shut.
* * *
“THE FOAL DIED,” Gage said when he heard Shelby’s footsteps behind him. He’d been staring at Bea’s goat, who was still grazing her way through the paddock. Another day and all the wild grass would be gone.
Lucky bumped affectionately against his leg, bringing his head beneath Gage’s hand. His fur was soft and silky.
“I’m sorry.” She came to the other side of him, slipping her arm around his waist. “I shouldn’t have asked you for help.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.” Even as he spoke, his words seemed to heave with sadness. Over lost foals and lost loves. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and laid his cheek on top of her head.
“Could you have saved t
he foal?”
Gage’s jaw seemed wired shut. He’d promised to be there and when he hadn’t shown up, there’d been a death. An image of Nick in the water flashed through his mind.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“There were complications.” Would he have known had he been there? Gage liked to think so. “The outer placental membrane ruptured too soon, which began depriving the foal of oxygen. The mare was agitated and hit her head against the stall and stumbled.” He shouldn’t be telling her any of this. It was more ammunition as to why she couldn’t love him. “The attending veterinarian was tossed against a wall. The time they spent attending to him was time the foal needed to survive.”
Shelby’s other arm came around him until her hands clasped about his waist.
“I know Dr. Faraji. He doesn’t see the value in trying to read a patient’s personality or mood.” Having been raised around livestock, Gage viewed animals differently. They had feelings and anxieties the same as people, and that required care and treatment, too. “I would have tried soothing the mare’s nerves before things got intense. I wouldn’t have been a bystander or observer as she transitioned into different phases of the delivery.”
“I think I understand a little better why you do what you do.” Her arms around him were truly comforting.
Lucky rubbed his jowls on Gage’s pants, leaving a large wet streak.
“You shouldn’t have come to Harmony Valley. Your work means the world to you. My grandfather will understand if you don’t stay.” She tilted her head up to look at him. “I’ll understand if you don’t stay.”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, wishing there were no complications between them—no fears, no differing goals. Wishing he could kiss her. “How can I leave when there’s this?” And then because he couldn’t stand not kissing her any longer, he lowered his head and claimed her lips.
Their kiss began tenderly, their breath mingling upon a sigh. Their lips softly greeting each other.
Her arms crept around his neck. His hands settled at the base of her spine.
She raised onto her tiptoes. He pulled her closer.
One Perfect Year Page 17