I can do this.
*
Dr. Carly Warner grimaced as she examined the skin sample beneath the microscope’s lens. She’d known without looking that the boxer puppy in exam room two hadn’t yet overcome a particularly bad case of demodectic mange, but hoped that it would’ve improved more by now. Maybe it was time for a new tactic in the puppy’s treatment.
“Damn it,” Carly muttered. She hated to suggest Mitaban dip, as it was nasty stuff, but it looked like the ivermectin alone wasn’t cutting it. Pulling away from the microscope, she squeezed the back of her neck and closed her eyes briefly. Since when did she get so tired after only six hours of work?
The door to the back room opened and Joyce entered in typical fashion. “You will not believe who’s sitting in the waiting room right now.”
Carly made a note in Boadie the boxer puppy’s chart and turned to walk back to exam room two. She hated to tell this young family to bring their new puppy in for relatively expensive weekly dips in a parasiticidal rinse and didn’t have much patience for Joyce’s reception desk gossip. Usually she tolerated busybodies like Joyce reasonably well, but today she felt more irritable than normal. Maybe she needed to get laid. The thought brought on a twinge of guilt, but it had a ring of truth.
“Who?” Matt asked. An extremely competent vet tech, he never hesitated to snap up whatever tasty tidbit Joyce offered. “Scarlett Johansson?”
Carly rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a smirk. The eternal hope of youth. She put her hand on her exam room’s knob, ready to deliver the disappointing news.
“Ray McKenna.” Joyce acted as though she were announcing the cure for cancer.
Carly released the knob and stared at Joyce, whose eyes gleamed with solemnity. Despite the histrionics, Carly was suddenly very interested in what she had to say.
“Like, the hostage?” Matt turned his attention away from the cat whose blood sample he was taking, mouth agape. “That Ray McKenna?”
“Who the hell is Ray McKenna?” Susan said. Another very good vet tech, she was twenty years old and clearly stayed away from network news and most other media sources. Probably lived in a cave.
“Are you kidding me?” Joyce seemed to vibrate with the pleasure of being able to deliver such big news. “The American soldier who was captured in Iraq a couple years ago? They cut off her buddy’s head? She was in that tape the terrorists made?” Joyce was nearly frothing, as excited as Carly had ever seen her. “Any of that ring a bell?”
“I guess so,” Susan said, but she looked uncertain. “So the terrorists let her go?”
“Insurgents,” Matt interjected. “There’s a difference.”
“The marines found where the insurgents were keeping her and stormed in. It was this huge rescue mission.” Joyce shook her head in disbelief. “You’re kidding me that you don’t know who Ray McKenna is. Do you ever turn on the TV? Or read a paper? Or a magazine?”
Susan shrugged a little defensively. “Two years ago I had just graduated high school. I was having a lot of sex with my ex-boyfriend then.”
“Apparently,” Joyce said.
“So what’s Ray McKenna doing here?” Matt turned back to the cat, who was meowing loudly on the counter in front of him.
“I’m guessing it has something to do with the Great Dane with her,” Joyce said. “It’s Dr. Warner’s next patient.”
Carly maintained an even expression, not wanting to encourage any of her colleagues to react differently to Ray McKenna’s presence than that of any other client. “I’m finishing up in exam two,” she said. “Susan, why don’t you take them to exam one and get started? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Sure.” Susan set aside the medications she was sorting through.
“And all of you, please, try not to make it obvious that you’re curious. I’m sure she’s gotten a lot of attention since coming home, and I can’t imagine that all the morbid curiosity is fun to deal with. Let’s treat Ms. McKenna like any other pet owner who comes in here, okay? With respect.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Susan said as she walked to the door that led to the waiting room. As she passed Carly, she said in a low voice, “I really don’t know who she is, anyway.”
Carly patted her on the back. “Marathon sex is time consuming,” she said in a similarly quiet voice. “I was in college once, I get it.” Wanting to avoid the inevitable rush of melancholy that would sweep over her if she allowed herself to dwell on those memories, Carly put on a sympathetic face for Boadie’s family and opened the exam room door.
*
Carly thought she was more than prepared not to react when she saw Ray McKenna in person, but she wasn’t expecting the former soldier to be so beautiful. The pictures and videos splashed all over the news and Internet for the past couple of years had alternated between shots of a fresh-faced kid and a frightened soldier. None of those images contained a hint of the alluring woman in front of Carly now. Even with her eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, Ray McKenna was the kind of the woman who would’ve drawn Carly’s attention, no matter who she was.
Ray was studying a large poster detailing the different breeds of domestic cat when Carly opened the door, and she startled visibly at the sound. Her dark hair was cut short, falling just below her ears, and her features were delicate. Pale skinned and slender, and achingly feminine, she wasn’t at all what Carly had imagined.
With effort, Carly was able to limit her reaction to Ray’s appearance to only a slight hesitation as she walked in, and for that she was grateful. Anxiety was pouring off Ray in waves, and the palpable tension in the room compelled Carly into a familiar air of professional detachment.
Sitting on the floor beside Ray’s chair, nearly as tall as her, was an impressive blue Great Dane with natural ears. Carly focused on the dog, which wasn’t terribly hard to do, in an effort to make Ray feel more at ease. This appointment was about him, she reminded herself, not Ray.
At her entrance, Jagger stood and placed himself between Ray and the door. Carly noted with interest the red service-dog cape he was wearing, wondering what role he played in his guardian’s life. Ray appeared to be in one piece, reasonably healthy, and though she wore sunglasses, she tracked Carly’s movement in a way that suggested vision wasn’t her problem.
“Oh, you are a handsome guy, aren’t you?” Carly bent slightly, reaching out to see if the Dane would come to her. “Good boy, Jagger,” she cooed, rattling off the name she had memorized from his newly created chart only moments before. Sparing Ray a brief glance, she said, “Hi, I’m Dr. Warner. Carly Warner.”
“Hello,” Ray said quietly. Her voice betrayed an obvious case of nerves, but the timbre of it was lovely. Smooth and low, even sexy. She cleared her throat, then said, “I’m Ray.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Carly grinned down at Jagger, who had left his owner’s side to give her a careful sniff and then a slightly wet nuzzle. “I love Danes. And he’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“He’s my first.” Ray sat up straight in the chair, looking uncomfortable. Though Carly couldn’t see her eyes behind the dark lenses, she sensed that Ray wasn’t sure where to focus her gaze. “I always wanted one.”
“They’re wonderful dogs.” Carly ran a hand along Jagger’s face, then down to pat his chest. Susan had given her an overview of the purpose of this appointment already, so Carly inserted the earpieces of her stethoscope and smiled at Ray. “We’re giving Jagger only a basic exam today?”
Ray nodded. After a slight hesitation, she said, “I just moved to town, so I thought…well, I thought we would come to the vet’s office.” Scowling, Ray tilted her face, probably looking at the floor. Her cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink, and she swiped at her forehead with the back of one hand. “You know, to meet you. So Jagger could meet you.”
Carly listened to Jagger’s heartbeat for a few seconds, a steady, strong rhythm, then inspected his ears. They were velvety soft and very clean. As she went through the steps of
the simple exam, she tried to decide whether she should attempt to make small talk with Ray, who was clearly not happy to be here. Carly worried that Joyce had given away her intense curiosity at the front desk and caused this obvious discomfort.
“It was a good idea to come,” Carly said, keeping her eyes on the Dane as she examined him. “It’s nice when people bring their pets in when nothing traumatic is happening. Helps the animal learn to trust the people in the funny blue scrubs.” She picked up a thermometer from the counter, giving Jagger an apologetic chuckle. “Well, nothing too traumatic.” Jagger cocked his head slightly, looking at the new object in her hand, and Carly said, “I promise you’ll get a treat out of it, big boy.”
“He never refuses a treat.”
Affection rang clear in Ray’s voice, and Carly instinctively warmed. Ray was an animal lover. Strangely, not all pet owners were. So that meant she and Ray had something very important in common. Maybe it was enough to help them establish a rapport. “Would you mind petting him while I take his temperature? Sometimes a distraction helps.”
For a moment Ray didn’t move, looking slightly stricken, but she quickly recovered. She called Jagger to her and he went eagerly. Ray cradled his head in her lap and started massaging behind his ears in a way that Carly knew would make her own dog Jack weak in the knees.
“So is he your first dog, or just your first Dane?” Carly asked as she inserted the thermometer. Jagger took a slight step forward, but otherwise betrayed no reaction.
“My father had a German shepherd when I was a kid,” Ray said. “But Jagger is the first dog I’ve ever had on my own.”
“I have a mutt who’s probably a German shepherd mix,” Carly said. “One of many guesses. Rhodesian ridgeback or boxer are other possibilities. Adopted him from the shelter up in Ukiah. He’s a sweetheart.”
Ray said nothing, but slowly took off her sunglasses. She fumbled with them a bit as she put them in her front pocket, then, drawing in a breath, she met Carly’s eyes. Her mouth moved as she said something, but Carly didn’t hear a word.
Ray McKenna was one of the most gorgeous women Carly had ever seen. Her hazel eyes were breathtaking, full of loneliness and sorrow, but also shining with an inner beauty that made Carly feel as though she were gazing directly into Ray’s soul. Carly felt lost in their depths, and her professional demeanor slipped for a moment when she realized she was staring.
Averting her gaze, she tried to recall what Ray had just said. Sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. Determined to get ahold of herself, Carly said evenly, “No reason to apologize. They looked nice on you.”
“How old is your dog?” Ray asked.
Carly withdrew the thermometer and glanced at the display. “Looks good,” she said. “Jack is probably just over five years old. I say ‘probably’ because I can only guess. He was picked up as a stray, so the shelter didn’t have much information on him.”
“It’s great that you gave him a second chance.”
“He deserved it.” Carly rose and crossed the exam room to rinse the thermometer in the sink. She kept it under the water a bit longer than she needed, grateful for the breathing room. When the hell had she ever reacted so strongly to a straight woman? This was completely unlike her, and her lack of control irritated her. “Jack’s a good boy.” Smiling over at Jagger, she cooed, “And so are you, Jagger. How about that treat I promised?”
The moment her hand went into the treat jar, Jagger’s ears perked up. Sitting up straight, he watched her face as she crossed the room, easing into an appealing doggy grin.
Because he was already sitting, Carly offered her hand and said, “Can you give me your paw?”
Jagger lifted one heavy paw and dropped it into her hand, drawing a proud smile from Ray. “Good boy.” Carly offered him the biscuit, which he took gently, and Ray murmured another “good boy.”
“Well, he looks as healthy as a horse,” Carly said. Glancing at his chart, she noted, “Almost as big as one, too. One hundred seventy pounds. Wow.”
“I told you he never refused a treat.”
Carly looked up from the chart and laughed, catching Ray’s gaze. In that moment Ray was as unguarded as she’d been since Carly walked into the room. Ray shared a smile with her, then seemed to realize what she was doing and smiled even harder, shyly turning away.
“Well, thank you guys for coming to meet me,” Carly said, and rubbed Jagger’s floppy ears. “Come see me again, Jagger. I can always promise a treat.”
“He will,” Ray said quietly. “Thank you, Dr. Warner.”
“You’re very welcome. You can just stop by the front counter on your way out.” Carly gave Ray one last nod, then walked out of the exam room. Once the door closed behind her, she collapsed against the wall and exhaled. “That was ridiculous,” she scolded herself. Ray McKenna was straight, she was clearly very introverted, and Carly had read something about a boyfriend in one of those magazines. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
Maybe she really did need to get laid.
Chapter Three
After her last patient of the day, Carly woke Jack from what sounded like one hell of a barking, grumbling nap in the corner of her office and took him to say good-bye to Joyce and Dr. Patterson, who owned the clinic. As usual, they were the last three holdouts at the clinic after a very long day. Normally she would have outlasted even Patterson, sixty years old but still tireless at his practice, but today she was eager to get home, if only to a nice glass of wine and some quality time with her dog.
With Jack secured to the passenger seat in his car harness, Carly cracked the window slightly and pulled out onto Highway 1. As it did every day, the breathtaking Northern California coast made for a pleasant commute home. The three twisting, hilly miles drove more like ten, but the serene beauty of the Pacific Ocean crashing against the rocky shore made it a pleasure. In fact, she often overshot her house on purpose, just so she could keep enjoying the view. Sonoma County was so different from San Francisco, and while she loved the city and all its strange rhythms, she had worked toward an inner peace here that she doubted she could have ever attained in her old apartment in the Castro.
Carly pulled into her driveway at six fifteen, deciding that the glass of wine she had imagined sounded better than prolonging her scenic drive. Besides, the sun would go down in an hour or so, and she wanted to be able to do some agility training with Jack before it was too late. He seemed to relish the brief walks they were able to take when Carly had time between patients during the day, but she knew he was most happy when he could really expend his energy.
Unbuckling Jack from his harness, she patted him on the chest and said, “Let’s go!” He hopped out of the car and immediately lunged forward into a rather dramatic stretch. Tail wagging madly, he yawned, then trotted to her side as she headed into the house.
They went straight through to the backyard and Jack ran over to the first obstacle in the modest agility course she had set up, a relatively small A-frame. His entire back end swayed side to side with the force of his wagging tail, and Carly’s fatigue began to slip away at the sight of her best friend’s obvious joy.
“Okay.” Carly pointed at the A-frame. “Go!”
As always, Jack’s improvement in running the course impressed her. They didn’t get a lot of practice time together, but he learned quickly as long as he was having fun. Carly ran alongside him shouting commands, awed by his pure athleticism. Sixty-five pounds of muscle, he was fawn colored with a black mask on his face and a white muzzle, a handsome, graceful mutt whose incredible speed and strength outdoors belied his absolutely lazy personality in the house.
She took him through the course five times, until he seemed to become more easily distracted by the random bird chirping overhead or a particularly alluring scent on the breeze. When he veered off course to give the corner of the wooden fence that enclosed her yard a vigorous sniff, Carly decided it was time for them both to get something to eat.
“Okay, Jackie,
” Carly said. “I get it. You’re done for today.” She walked to the back door and called out, “Dinnertime.” Jack nearly broke his neck in his haste to follow.
Once inside, Carly went through her nightly routine with practiced efficiency. She pulled some leftover pasta from the fridge and tossed it in the microwave, then uncorked a bottle of pinot noir. As the pasta heated, Carly filled Jack’s food dish with kibble and a bit of soft food, to entice him to eat. Due to skin allergies, he was restricted to a diet of duck-and-potato kibble, which he seemed to find only marginally appealing.
When both of their dinners were prepared, Carly loaded her arms with the food and the bottle of wine, then made her way out to the patio. Jack followed close at her side, threatening to trip her with his eagerness to be with her. He was like a shadow, her constant companion, and despite the times he made her stumble over him, she couldn’t imagine not having him there.
Setting Jack’s food dish in his elevated feeder, Carly released him to eat almost immediately. Usually she would go through their obedience commands first, but she was too tired. Instead she headed straight for the small café table, dropping into a cushioned chair to pour a glass of pinot noir.
Before she moved to Sonoma County, she hadn’t been a big wine drinker. But once she lived here, she felt obliged to learn to enjoy her new home’s most famous export. To her surprise, Carly had developed a true appreciation for the stuff—so much so that she sometimes had to remind herself not to overindulge. Especially on an evening like this, when the loneliness she tried so hard not to feel crept in, leaving her hollowed out and introspective.
Carly closed her eyes, trying to appreciate the silence of the evening. Five years ago, she wouldn’t have liked this quietness. She’d thrived on the excitement of the city, and she and Nadia rarely spent a solitary evening at home. Now silence was all she had, and learning to find the beauty in it kept her sane.
Battle Scars Page 2