Sit. Stay. Love.

by Karis Walsh

  She watched them nuzzle up to nurse for just a moment before leaving the room and going to the kitchen. She searched through the food Chip had conveniently left for her. Milk, eggs, coffee. Lettuce, of course. Some chicken. She made some hard-boiled eggs and poached chicken and chopped them up for the dog, leaving the plate near the water bowl. She made an egg salad sandwich for herself and sat at the wooden table in the kitchen to eat. Even though she had lived alone for years, she had always been surrounded by other people. Rooms above, below, and on all sides had been filled with coworkers or strangers. She felt the aching sense of empty space stretching in all directions. Worst of all was the stretch of time ahead of her before she could get back to the life she wanted.

  She put her plate in the sink and looked through the phone book Chip had left on the counter. She found Tegan Evans, DVM, and dialed the number after only a slight hesitation.

  “Dr. Evans.” Tegan’s voice was crisp and professional. The phone book ad showed the clinic was closed for the night, and Alana heard muted sounds of voices in the background, as if Tegan was at a party or restaurant.

  “This is Alana. We met today at Chip’s ranch.” Alana paused, but was met only with silence. “I’m his new…um…Activity Coordinator.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Tegan said in a sharp tone.

  Alana sighed. What had she expected? A hearty hello and an invitation to come over for the party or out for dinner? “So, I found a dog and puppies under my porch, and the mother dog looks like she could use a vet. She’s really thin.”

  “What kind of dogs?” Tegan switched gears immediately, resuming her professional voice.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Brown and white ones? What kinds of dogs are brown and white?”

  Tegan’s sigh was audible. “Never mind. Tell me about the mother dog. Has she eaten anything or had any water? Is she moving around, or lethargic?”

  “She ate about a cup of plain poached chicken and hard-boiled egg. She drank a little water, too. She’s not really lethargic, just wary. She jumped into the box with her puppies.”

  “All right. I’m not at the office now, but it sounds like they’ll be fine until morning. Can you bring them in at eight?”

  “Yes. That’ll be fine.”

  “Good. If you think they need emergency care during the night, call Dr. Hannigan. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She ended the call before Alana could say thank you or good-bye. She sat at the table for a long time, fiddling with the paper with Dr. Hannigan’s number on it and wondering over her mixed emotions about seeing Tegan again. She should be avoiding her, since Tegan knew about her lack of horse experience and could make her lose this job. Or maybe she should be glad to have a chance to see her, to convince her not to tell Chip about her misleading job application.

  Or maybe she was just looking forward to being around Tegan again. She certainly made Alana feel alive, even though some of the emotions she incited weren’t comfortable ones, like frustration and embarrassment. Some of them were pretty appealing, like attraction and intrigue. Alana had always prided herself on being in control at work and in her social life. She planned her career and her relationships carefully, aiming toward her goals with precision and forethought. Now, though, her future was blurry. She couldn’t even predict what the next day would bring, whether she’d find herself holding another box of stray animals or discovering yet another disturbing requirement of her new job. Until now, she hadn’t realized that she had been going through life while barely noticing it, since most of her thoughts and energy were focused on the next steps she needed to take. Suddenly, she found herself with nothing but the present. Where Tegan was, with her confidence and skills that made Alana feel incompetent at a job for the first time in years. And with her sexiness that made Alana aware of how many possibilities might open up when the predetermined route into the future took a detour.

  Alana sighed and cleaned the kitchen until the counters and dishes were spotless again. She was just feeling a little lonely and exhausted after this mess of a day. She’d face tomorrow when it came.

  The dog cried and scratched to get out of the bedroom, and Alana carefully opened the door to check on her. The dog squeezed through the opening and ran to the back door. Alana hesitated before letting her into the yard, but the grassy area was small and well lit. Hopefully she wouldn’t run away and leave Alana alone with the pups. The dog seemed to have as little faith in her ability to take care of them as Alana did, though, and she went outside and came back in in only a matter of moments, disappearing like a skinny ghost into the guest room closet.

  Alana refilled her water bowl and left the room. Maybe Tegan would be so distressed by her incompetence that she would confiscate the animals, and Alana would no longer be responsible for them. If not, she would get some real dog food, or maybe take the animals to a shelter if she could find a no-kill one. Then she’d be alone in this creaky old house. She lay awake for a long time, missing the sounds of hotel elevators and the footsteps of guests.

  Chapter Four

  Alana was up well before six, exhausted from spending most of the night hovering outside the puppy bedroom and occasionally peering inside to make sure all seven animals were still breathing. She hadn’t been quite as convinced as Tegan had seemed to be that she would know intuitively what constituted an emergency that required a call to Dr. Hannigan.

  They made it through the night without any emergency incidents, however. The mother dog scarfed down another bowl of chicken and egg while Alana sat cross-legged on the far side of the room and ate her own breakfast of a plain piece of toast and coffee. She originally meant to use the quiet time to bemoan her current predicament and figure out ways to get out of it, but she was distracted by the puppies. They were too young to do much besides squirm around, but every once in a while one would manage to wriggle on top of one of its brothers or sisters, and then tumble, nose first, down the other side onto the soft comforter. The mother dog glared reproachfully at Alana every time she laughed.

  As soon as everyone’s breakfast was finished, and the mother dog had bolted into the yard and back, Alana got the cardboard box out again. She used her pen to poke air holes in it until she worried she might have damaged the structural integrity of the box. It still seemed capable of holding its shape, though, so she put one of the fluffy new towels from the bathroom on the bottom of it and started piling puppies inside. The mother dog hopped in without needing to be encouraged, probably with the intention of getting her babies out again, but Alana quickly shut the flaps.

  She paced back and forth in the bedroom for a few minutes, debating what to do next. She had expected the morning chores of feeding and puppy packing to eat up more time, but she still had more than an hour before her appointment. She was too nervous to wait, though, so she decided to get to the vet’s office early. Even if no one was there, she figured she might as well be there and ready to go while she fretted about the day ahead instead of alone in this house.

  She spent the ten-minute drive into Yakima mentally writing a to-do list for the day. She was accustomed to checking off work and social items, such as Finalize menu for Saturday’s bar mitzvah and Meet friends at Cardy’s for happy hour on a normal list. She longed to have those familiar tasks in place of her new ones of Find home for six puppies and skinny mother dog and Learn to ride horses and Find out if sexy vet is going to tattle to new boss.

  She was not looking forward to the day ahead of her.

  Alana arrived at Tegan’s clinic a few minutes after seven. She pulled into the circular drive and let the truck idle while she checked out the property. The narrow two-story Victorian house was neatly painted white, with bright blue trim and fretwork. The windows were still dark and no other cars were visible, so she figured Tegan and her assistant hadn’t gotten to work yet. The front lawn was surrounded by a colorful border of tulips and daffodils. Everything was tidy and perfectly in order, and the place didn’t seem prepared for Alana and h
er newly messy life to descend upon it.

  There were a few parking spots in front of the house, but Alana noticed another road branching off the main driveway and heading behind the clinic. She slowly drove around the house and discovered another larger parking lot in the back. An ancient silver Jeep Cherokee with a dent in the rear bumper was parked near a plain white metal barn. A gold-colored horse stood in one of the attached paddocks with her head over the board fence, watching Alana’s truck drive by.

  Alana parked next to the Jeep where she had a better view of the outdoor arena behind the barn. She turned off the engine and watched as Tegan rode into view on a brown horse with bold white markings on its face and legs. Alana exhaled softly, as if even too loud a breath would break the spell Tegan and her horse were weaving. They seemed to be in their own world out there, with only the thud of hoofbeats breaking the quiet of the morning. If Tegan had even heard Alana’s truck, she gave no indication of it since she was clearly focused on her horse and the patterns they were making in the soft dirt.

  For quite a while, Alana was only capable of seeing how gorgeous Tegan looked. Her slender legs were wrapped in snug leather chaps, and she wore a black long-sleeved T-shirt. She was covered from her neck to her toes, but every soft curve and muscular line was showcased by the simple fitted outfit. Alana had never really understood the whole sexy cowgirl mania before, but now she was a devoted fan.

  Once she was able to claw her way out of the hazy fog of desire, she sighed again, this time with decidedly less enthusiasm. Even though she knew next to nothing—or absolutely nothing, if she was being honest—about riding, she understood that there was no way she’d be able to get anywhere near Tegan’s level of skill in a month. Or a year. She barely moved in the saddle, and her hands were gently and loosely holding the reins, but the horse responded to every slight shift Tegan made. They galloped across the arena and slid to a halt with the horse nearly sitting on its rear. They spun in place rapidly enough for Alana to feel dizzy while watching. If she’d been actually on the animal, she’d have been flung into orbit. There was no way in hell she could ride like this.

  Tegan slowed to a walk, and as she leaned forward to pat her horse on the neck she looked up and seemed to notice Alana’s truck for the first time. Alana ignored the foolish urge to duck out of sight—it wasn’t as if she could hide from Tegan for long that way. All she had to do was walk over and look through the window. Besides, Alana had an appointment. She was supposed to be here. She got out of her truck and waited for Tegan to dismount and walk through the gate and over to her.

  “You’re early,” she said.

  “I am.” Obviously. “This is a truck,” Alana said, pointing to it.

  “This is a horse.” Tegan laughed as she pointed toward the animal. “Although I might not be playing the game right since I’m not sure if that particular fact is glaringly obvious to you.”

  Alana realized she hadn’t yet seen an expression on Tegan’s face that didn’t seem to fall somewhere in the range between mildly annoyed and highly annoyed, and she had to smile in response despite the smart-ass comment. Tegan’s mouth was meant for laughing, with its slight upturn in the corners. And kissing, most likely, since her lips looked soft and mobile and expressive. Alana tried not to dwell too long on the thought of kissing her.

  “I can recognize the species,” Alana said with a haughty shrug. She was fairly confident in her statement, unless there were some strange horse types she hadn’t yet seen. She’d been able to spot all the equines at Chip’s ranch.

  “Well, that’s something, at least. Did you bring the puppies?”

  Alana gestured toward the narrow back seat where she had carefully wedged the box to keep it from tipping over if the dogs moved too much. “Of course. I certainly didn’t come here just for the witty conversation. Should I get them out now?”

  Tegan peered through the window. “You have them in a cardboard box? That’s not very sturdy for transporting animals.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I brought a couple dog crates on the plane with me yesterday, but I had already filled them with two other litters of puppies before this one came along.”

  “Right,” Tegan said in a drawl, tapping her chin as if just now remembering Alana’s recent arrival. “The plane. How’s the jetlag coming along?”

  Alana slapped playfully at Tegan’s arm, and she dodged out of reach with another laugh. “It’s cool enough outside,” Tegan said. “Roll the windows down a bit, and they should be fine while I untack Rio. Then I can help you carry them inside.”

  Alana cracked the truck’s windows a few inches and checked the dogs through one of the larger holes she had jabbed in the side of the box. Then she followed Tegan into the small barn, where she and her horse stood in the center of the aisle. She wasn’t certain if Tegan’s joking manner was a good sign or not. She didn’t seem as irate as she had at Chip’s ranch, which seemed positive, but she had also made it a point to bring up Alana’s questionable equine knowledge within seconds of seeing her. After messing up with the halters yesterday and seeing Tegan’s skills in action today, Alana had a feeling her only option was complete honesty. Tegan would see through anything less.

  Still, she wasn’t about to bring up the topic on her own.

  “Are these both your horses, or are they patients?” she asked, petting the gold horse who had come inside her stall through the open door from her paddock. She watched Tegan unbuckle the bridle and remove the saddle, trying to memorize each step in the feeble hope that she could replicate the actions on her own.

  “These are mine. This is Rio, and the palomino is Charm. I have two extra stalls for patients in this barn, and another one on the far side of the house that I use if I need to quarantine an animal.”

  Palomino. Alana filed away the term in her mind since she had heard the word before but had never connected it with anything concrete. One of Chip’s horses had the same coloring as this one, although she couldn’t remember its name.

  Tegan quickly brushed the horse’s already shiny coat and put him into one of the stalls. “We didn’t work hard today, so he’s okay to be put away now. I’ll groom him later.”

  Alana nodded in agreement, as if Tegan’s statement made perfect sense to her. They went back to the truck and she slid the box closer to the door.

  “Be careful with the bottom because it isn’t taped shut.”

  “Of course it isn’t,” Tegan said, shaking her head as if she was no longer surprised by any of Alana’s foolishness.

  Alana glared at her over the box as they lifted it from opposite sides. She supposed Tegan never traveled anywhere without a suitcase full of packing tape, leashes, and doggie treats in case of spur-of-the-moment rescues.

  Tegan held the back door open with her foot, and they managed to squeeze inside without jarring the contents of the box too much. She led them through the back entrance of a white-tiled room with a metal table and handed Alana a frayed pink blanket out of a cupboard.

  “Put this in the corner, and I can examine them on the floor. It’ll be easier than trying to keep them on the table,” she said as she draped a stethoscope around her neck and rummaged through some drawers. “Tell me again about how you found them.”

  Alana managed to turn away from the sight of Tegan—still wearing those damned ass-framing chaps—and focused instead on smoothing the blanket into place while she told the story of the rats and the exterminator. She had just about come to the part about making the dog some dinner when she heard a sort of gasping sound from behind her.

  “Are you laughing?” Alana had thought her rescue story sounded quite dramatic in the retelling. She had expected some gasps of amazement, not hysteria.

  Tegan was leaning against the metal table, wiping tears out of her eyes with one hand and pressing the other against her stomach. “No. Well, yes. I can just picture the expression on your face when he tried to hand you a box full of what you thought were rats. Oh, it hurts to laugh this much. Go
on, finish your story.”

  She sat next to Alana on the blanket and opened the box, reaching inside to let the mother dog sniff at her hands before gently lifting her onto the blanket. Her demeanor changed abruptly as soon as she started handling the animal, and Alana let her irritation at the bout of laughter fade away. Tegan held the dog carefully, yet without any trace of hesitation in her movements. Her obvious kindness and care for the small creature made her even more attractive to Alana, showing the character of the woman underneath the beautiful skin and sexy body. At the same time, though, Tegan’s competence and experience with animals threw Alana’s tentative attempts to handle the horses yesterday into stark relief. There was no way Alana could pretend she possessed experience on a level with Tegan’s. She continued talking about the night before, struggling to remember the details when all her mind wanted to think about was her calf, where Tegan’s hip barely brushed against her, and the soft smells of hay and apples she noticed every time she inhaled.

  She eventually stopped talking and watched Tegan examine the cowering dog. She slipped a collar around the dog’s neck and handed the attached leash to Alana. “Come closer and hold her against you. I’m going to draw some blood for a heartworm test and I don’t want her jerking away from the needle.”

  Alana scooted forward until her hip and thigh were flush against Tegan’s. She reminded herself to breathe, to pretend the entire side of her body wasn’t flaring to life because of the contact between them. Tegan already knew too many of her secrets. Alana wasn’t about to let her in on this one.

  She gathered the dog into her arms, shocked out of her arousal by the near weightlessness of her. Her furry coat had given her the appearance of having more substance than she actually had.

  “She’s so thin,” Alana said, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t want to give voice to the question in her mind of whether the dog was too ill to survive.