Aidan: Loyal Cowboy: Aidan: Loyal CowboyThe Family Plan

by Cathy McDavid

  “I could tell.”

  They stepped out of line and started toward the parking lot. There would be no movie tonight.

  Why was she surprised?

  “It’s a client of mine. The Andersons. Their son Curt ran over their family dog. The kid’s sixteen and just got his license.”

  “Is the dog all right?”

  “They don’t know. She can’t walk and is hiding under an old table in the garage. She’s also bleeding at the mouth.”

  Flynn’s frustration fled upon hearing about the dog’s condition. “How’s their son?”

  “Pretty shaken up but otherwise fine.”

  “I didn’t think you treated dogs.”

  “I don’t, but the Andersons are also friends. You might have heard of them, they raise alpacas.”

  “I’ve seen the farm on the outskirts of town.”

  “It’s quite an interesting operation.”

  They reached Ace’s truck.

  “Be sure and phone me later,” Flynn said. “Let me know how the dog is.”

  “Actually…”

  “What?”

  “I hate to have to tell you this, but there’s no time to drop you off first.”

  “You’re taking me with you?”

  “The Andersons live on the opposite side of town. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Um…no.”

  “This could take a while.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  In the three years Flynn and Paul were married, countless last-minute work emergencies had cropped up. Not once did he suggest she accompany him.

  “Will it be all right if I go with you?” she asked. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  Ten minutes into the drive, Ace called the Andersons and received an update on the dog’s condition. It remained unchanged. When they pulled into the alpaca farm, Mrs. Anderson was waiting for them in the driveway, wringing her hands.

  “Thank you for coming, Ace.” Her voice wobbled. “We didn’t know what to do or who to call.”

  “No problem.”

  “Lovey’s over here.”

  She hurried them to the garage. Flynn blinked at the bright florescent lights.

  “Hello, Ace,” Mr. Anderson said.

  The two men shook hands, and Ace introduced Flynn.

  A pale-faced teenage boy—he had to be their son Curt—sat cross-legged in front of an old dining room set. Someone had moved the chairs to the side, creating a pathway to the dog.

  She lay beneath an old raincoat, only her nose and muzzle showing. Even at a distance, Flynn could see dark blood caked on the side of the dog’s mouth.

  The son sprang out of the way. Ace knelt in front of the dog and carefully removed the raincoat.

  “Hey, girl.”

  The dog trembled violently and gazed at him with a woeful expression.

  He carefully opened her mouth and pushed her lips aside.

  Lovey whimpered and jerked her head from his grasp.

  Talking soothingly, he continued the exam, palpating her sides and belly. She tolerated this considerably better, though she panted laboriously.

  “I don’t detect any internal injuries.”

  “No?” Mrs. Anderson asked. She waited beside Flynn, her hands still clenched in front of her.

  “Then how come she’s bleeding?” Curt asked.

  Ace peeled back Lovey’s lip to show them. “She’s cut the inside of her mouth on her teeth, probably happened on impact with the car. It doesn’t look bad.”

  “Thank God.” Mrs. Anderson went visibly weak.

  “Why can’t she walk?” Mr. Anderson asked.

  “Let’s see what we can find.”

  With profound gentleness, Ace lifted the dog out from beneath the table and set her on her feet—her three feet. She held her right front paw out in front of her at a painful angle.

  Flynn could see now that Lovey was a yellow Lab, with possibly a little German shepherd thrown in for good measure. She demonstrated how she’d earned her name by giving Ace’s face a thorough washing.

  He chuckled, trying to evade her tongue. “I like you, too, girl.”

  When he pressed down on her paw, she whined and tried to retreat beneath the shelter of the table.

  “Want me to hold her?” Mr. Anderson offered.

  “No. She’s in mild shock. I don’t want to cause her unnecessary distress.”

  Flynn was impressed with both the compassion Ace showed Lovey and his kind treatment of the Andersons. She’d been fortunate to work with several nurses and doctors at the emergency clinic who possessed the same admirable bedside manner. They were one of the reasons for her wanting to become a nurse.

  She hadn’t really thought about how a veterinarian interacted with his patients’ owners. Most of the vets her father had used over the years were nice but efficient. Not nearly as tenderhearted as Ace.

  He’d been every bit as gentle and compassionate with Fancy Gal as with Lovey. It was obvious to anyone he loved his job, his patients and helping to make their owners’ lives better.

  She longed for the same things herself.

  Perhaps they weren’t so different after all.

  “Flynn. Would you mind bringing me my medical case?” He passed her his keys. “It’s in the compartment on the driver’s side. Black box with a handle. The small silver key opens the lock. I also need a bottle of antiseptic wash. It’s on the bottom shelf, white label. Make sure there’s enough gauze and a roll of elastic cohesive bandage in the case. If not, grab a few more.”

  Flynn hurried to the truck. Opening the side compartment, she quickly located the items Ace needed.

  Mrs. Anderson returned at the same time as Flynn. Apparently she’d been dispatched to fetch a pan of warm water.

  Using a bulb syringe procured from his medical case, Ace flushed out Lovey’s mouth with the antiseptic wash and cleaned the blood from her muzzle.

  “What about her foot?” Mrs. Anderson asked.

  “My guess is she’s broken two or three toes.” He showed the Andersons the raised bumps on Lovey’s paw. “I’m going to bind the paw to stabilize and protect it and give her an injection for pain—she’ll be in a lot of it from the broken toes and the blow she sustained. She should be okay until Monday morning when you can take her to your regular vet. But I wouldn’t recommend waiting any longer.”

  “She ran out in front of me as I was pulling in the driveway,” Curt lamented. “I didn’t see her. There was just this awful thud.” He cringed.

  “Go easy on yourself.” His mother squeezed his arm. “What’s important is that she’s going to be fine.”

  Ace finished binding the paw. Lovey was visibly relieved when he snipped the tape and released her. She barely noticed the injection he administered.

  “Keep her quiet and warm for the next couple days. Make sure she has water available but don’t be alarmed if she doesn’t drink or eat much. It’s normal. Call me if there’s any change for the worse.”

  All three of the Andersons walked Ace and Flynn to his truck where she helped him load the supplies.

  “What do I owe you?” Mr. Anderson asked Ace.

  “I’ll just add the charges on the bill for my regular visit next week.”

  Mrs. Anderson hugged him warmly. “Thank you again.”

  “I’ll see you Wednesday,” Ace said as he and Flynn opened the truck doors. “Let me know what your vet says about Lovey.”

  When they were back on the road, Ace asked, “You want to try and catch the late show?”

  Flynn shrugged. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not.”

  His features fell ever so slightly. “I’m really sorry about ru
ining the evening.”

  “You didn’t ruin it at all. I enjoyed going with you to the Andersons’.”

  “Don’t ever take up poker. You haven’t the face for it.”

  “It’s true. I really did have fun.” She gazed at him earnestly. “What you did for the Andersons, that was nice.”

  “They’re good people.”

  “You are, too, Ace. A good person and a good vet. I can tell by the way you treated Lovey and Fancy Gal. I never thought being a vet was all that cool until tonight.”

  He grinned. “If I knew you were interested in my vet practice, I’d show you my clinic rather than take you home.”

  “Let’s go!”

  “I was joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “It’s getting late.” He checked the digital clock on the dashboard.

  “Not that late. Come on,” she insisted. “I’ve never seen your clinic.”

  “Okay.” Ace’s smile remained in place until they arrived at Thunder Ranch.

  He flipped on the lights at the entrance to the main horse barn. The occupants stirred at the disturbance, milling in their stalls and nickering.

  “My office is this way.” He patted a curious head here and there as they walked down the aisle and past the tack room. Opening a door, he turned on a second light and waited for Flynn to enter first.

  She didn’t recall what this room had been before its current incarnation. A storage area, perhaps? No more than ten feet by eight feet, it contained a desk, a computer straight out of the stone age, a printer/scanner/fax machine almost as old, shelves filled with numerous medical volumes and reference books, a small refrigerator in the corner with a microwave on top and a four-drawer lateral file.

  “This is nice,” Flynn observed.

  “You really gotta watch that poker face.”

  “Quit it!”

  “It’s small.” He shrugged. “I don’t need much. Not yet.”

  “Does that computer actually work?”

  “I could probably use a new one.”

  She indicated a door beside the cabinet. “Where does that lead?”

  “I’ll show you.” They went outside. Ace flipped on a third light switch, illuminating two covered pens. A young calf stood in one of them, his huge eyes woefully sad. “This is my hospital ward.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Flynn went over to the calf, who investigated her fingers with his sticky tongue.

  “He’s an orphan. His mama died a few days ago.”

  “Oh, no! What happened?”

  “Rattlesnakes. She inadvertently wandered into a nest of them.”

  “Poor thing.” Flynn scratched the calf between the ears. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Try and put him with another cow and calf, see if the cow will accept him. If not, I guess I’ll be hand-raising him.”

  The calf brayed mournfully.

  “What’s wrong?” Flynn asked.

  “He’s hungry. He’s always hungry.”

  “Can we feed him?”

  “Sure.”

  They went back into Ace’s office where he prepared the calf’s formula, pouring the mixture into a huge baby bottle.

  The calf brayed louder than before the second they appeared with the bottle.

  “Slow down!” Flynn giggled as the calf sucked lustily, emptying the contents in a matter of minutes.

  “You’re hired,” Ace told her when they were done. “But you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  “Maybe I will.” Flynn realized she was serious. Back inside the office, she asked, “What kind of software do you use for your practice?”

  “’Fraid I don’t have a very sophisticated system. Spreadsheets, mostly, and those are pretty basic.”

  “How do you keep track of your patients’ histories?”

  “A manila file folder.” He rested a hand on top of the lateral file.

  “Honestly? Ace, you need to update your system. And buy a new computer,” she added emphatically.

  “I know. I haven’t had the time.”

  “I could help.” The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them, not that she wanted to.

  “You would?”

  “It’s what I do at the clinic. I can’t imagine there’s much difference.”

  “You haven’t seen my system.”

  “Let me take a look at it sometime this week. You may not need to make as many changes as you think.”

  “I’d really appreciate it. And I’ll pay you.”

  “You will not!”

  “I can’t ask you—”

  “You’re not asking, I’m offering. And it’s something I like doing.”

  “What about nursing school? Will helping me get in the way?”

  “It shouldn’t. As it is, I’ve hit a bit of a roadblock.”

  “A bad one?”

  “Nothing I can’t resolve. Helping you will give me something to think about other than how long the process is taking.”

  “I won’t say no. I can use an expert.”

  Pleasure bubbled up inside her.

  Soon after that, Ace took Flynn home. The hug and peck on the lips he gave her at the door felt right and natural. Before going inside, she reminded him of her upcoming doctor’s appointment.

  Her father was still up when she strolled into the kitchen, humming softly.

  “You’re home early. Have a good time?”

  “I did. A really good time.” She fixed herself a glass of iced water and told him about her evening with Ace.

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It was.”

  The most fun she’d had with Ace in…possibly ever.

  What did that say about their evolving relationship?

  Chapter Ten

  “You didn’t tell me how the calf was doing.”

  “Fine.” Ace wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans.

  “Did you find a cow to accept him?”

  He stared at the door leading to the exam rooms. “Um, yeah. Finally.”

  “What’s wrong?” Flynn asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You seem kind of on edge today.”

  “Do I?” He leaned forward in the visitor’s chair, feeling his shirt sticking to his back.

  “Are you anxious about the ultrasound?”

  “A little.” He and Flynn had finished with her exam and were waiting for their turn in the imaging room.

  “The doctor said everything appears normal and right on schedule.”

  “I heard her.”

  “Then why are you sweating like a pig?”

  “I’m excited.”

  “Talk about a lousy poker face.”

  “I’m not anxious.”

  “Are you afraid of doctors? Because you’ve been like this since we arrived. I thought you were going to pass out during my exam.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You’re a vet. How can a vet be afraid of doctors?”

  He exhaled. “I guess I know too much.”

  “What happened? Did you have a traumatic experience as a child?”

  “I broke my arm when I was seven. It didn’t heal correctly, so the orthopedic surgeon had to rebreak it.”

  “That’s not so terrible.”

  “Without anesthesia or painkillers!”

  “You poor kid.” She patted his hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time. I won’t let the mean, evil doctor near you.”

  “I’m supposed to be the one supporting and comforting you,” he said glumly, irritated at himself.

  “Is your broken arm why you became a vet?”

  “A
ctually, it was old Doc Pilchard’s fault. Remember him? He’d come out to the ranch, let me help him treat the horses and cattle. I’d keep the IV bag raised while he removed an abscessed tooth or reattached a torn ligament.”

  Next to his dad teaching him to ride and bust broncs, Doc Pilchard’s visits to the ranch were some of Ace’s fondest childhood memories. The old vet had retired after a lengthy and respectable career, beloved by all.

  That was Ace’s ambition. He would not end his life like his father, tainting everyone and everything important to him.

  “And yet,” Flynn said, “you quake at the prospect of being in the room during an ultrasound. There aren’t any needles involved, or has no one told you?”

  “I hear the gel they use is cold.”

  “You’ll be fine.” She squeezed his fingers, her tone soothing rather than ridiculing or patronizing.

  When she would have withdrawn her hand, he held fast. After a few seconds, she relaxed. So did Ace.

  A man wearing a lab coat and looking barely old enough to be out of high school stepped into the waiting area and called her name. He escorted them down a chilly hallway to an even chillier room.

  “Undress down to your underwear and put on the gown, open in the front,” he said, and shut the door behind him.

  There was no curtain or privacy screen behind which to change. Ace sat on the only chair in the room and glanced away while Flynn removed her clothes and donned the gown. When she finished she sat on the edge of the exam table, holding the gown closed.

  “Cold?” Ace asked.

  “A bit. What about you?”

  “Great.”

  “Don’t tell me all that shaking is from nerves.”

  Luckily the imaging technician returned, relieving Ace of having to respond.

  “Lie back,” he instructed Flynn, and went about preparing for the ultrasound.

  Before long he was gliding the probe over Flynn’s still flat belly. He stopped, pointed to a blurry image on the monitor beside her.

  “There. See?”

  The image became clearer as he held the probe in place.

  “Yes!” Flynn radiated delight.

  Ace saw only a white-and-gray swirl.