by Erin Wright
Actually…He tapped his chin, thinking. It wasn’t so much the vaccinations and birthings that were kicking his ass – it was the paperwork. He felt like he was drowning in it. If he could just hand the office work off to someone else, hell, that’d make all the difference in the world.
He did have someone right now…kinda. Oliver Blank was a high school student who he had coming over after school to help with the animals staying at the clinic for one reason or another, but as much as Adam liked the kid, he wasn’t exactly prime office help. Although he was an absolute gem around animals, he was equally as awful with people. Hell, just last week, he got into an argument with a client who’d had the temerity to ask for a business card. Oliver had told the woman hotly that if they handed out business cards to everyone, well, soon they’d run out of them!
Yeah, it’d taken precious minutes to smooth that one over. He’d tried to explain to Oliver after the slightly mollified woman left the clinic (business card in hand, thankyouverymuch) that the whole point of business cards was to give them away, but…
Well, it hadn’t exactly gotten through to the kid. Adam half expected that next, he’d let loose on a client’s head that if Adam took the time to talk to the client about vaccination schedules, Adam wouldn’t have the time to actually vaccinate any animals!
Which, while being somewhat true, also greatly missed the point.
No, he needed to stop relying on Oliver to man the desk, no matter how desperate Adam was for an extra set of hands upfront. He needed to keep Ollie in the back, far, far away from any being that walked upright. Let him stick to the four-legged variety, where he could work his magic. Ollie understood and loved animals on a level that Adam wasn’t even sure he was at. He’d make a damn fine vet one day…as long as he never had to talk to another soul while doing it.
As Adam walked out of Mr. Petrols, sucking at the brown, life-giving liquid, he sighed to himself. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, it was time to face the facts: He needed to hire an honest-to-God receptionist. An older woman who would be steadfast and unflinching in the face of growling dogs…and humans. Someone who could help him keep on track and get to his appointments on time. Someone who could do his billing for him.
You know, all the shit Adam hated to the depths of his soul.
A part of him cringed in pain at the idea of adding someone else to the payroll of Whitaker’s Vet Clinic, but if they would actually bill clients on time and get both his accounts payable and accounts receivable under control, hell, they’d probably pay for themselves just through the avoidance of late fees. Oh, and by actually collecting money owed, something Adam wasn’t exactly the best at.
So instead of heading out of town towards the Cowell spread to look at their mare’s lame leg, he took a right and headed over to the local Sawyer Times office. It was time to bite the bullet and hire someone to help him shoulder the load. An even-keeled, placid, heavyset, 50-year-old woman with a touch of gray in her hair and a steely-eyed gaze that could bring even the most riled-up dog to heel with a glance.
Hells to the yes.
Now, he just needed to find this paragon of perfection and hire ‘em on the spot.
Chapter 3
Kylie
There was some part of her – very small and very distant and oh-so-very quiet – that recognized that she was spiraling into some sort of depression. She’d never been one to be depressed before. There was just too much to do and see and experience and learn. She loved life.
She just didn’t happen to love life right now. Or, more specifically, love the idea of giving birth to life.
At least, not at the moment. It just wasn’t part of the plan. She’d always believed she’d become a mother…someday. She would marry a handsome guy and they’d have 2.5 kids and a house with a white picket fence and she’d be happy and fulfilled in her Unnamed Career doing Unnamed Things.
Just because she was 22 and hadn’t figured out what that Unnamed Career was, let alone what those Unnamed Things would be, didn’t mean she was a failure.
But the fact that she was pregnant, single, and homeless probably did.
She snuggled back down underneath the covers. She was so tired. So very, very tired. She’d get up in a minute. Maybe eat breakfast. Hell, maybe even brush her teeth. That’d be true progress.
But…not for another minute. She needed her rest. She was carrying another human inside of her, after all. That sort of thing was exhausting. She couldn’t be expected to be Superwoman, right?
She was drifting in and out, the world a hazy blob around her, when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She sat up slowly, blinking owlishly at the door. “Co–come in,” she croaked out. She cleared her throat. Why was it so hard to talk? She tried to remember what she’d last said to her mom, but the days had slipped by like water down a mountain stream, and she couldn’t remember what she’d said, or when she’d said it.
The world had turned into this murky, indistinct disaster zone, and Kylie couldn’t keep straight what she’d actually done versus what had happened in her dreams. Which should freak her out but she was too tired to freak out. She’d worry about it later. Maybe after another nap.
Her mom popped her head around the door, surprising Kylie. She’d already forgotten about the knock on the door. Her mom sent an overly bright smile at Kylie even as her eyes said, “Danger ahead!” Even through her sleepy eyes, Kylie caught the look that spelled trouble. It was the same one her mom had given her in high school, right before sitting her down and lecturing her about getting B’s in her classes, when she could be getting A’s.
Ah. Back when life was so much simpler.
Kylie tried to plaster a happy look on her face. “Hi, Mom!” she said, a touch bit too cheerfully. She cleared her throat again. It was strangely hard to talk. “What’s…what’s going on?” She ran her fingers through her hair, hoping to straighten it out, but she hit a few too many snarls and knots, and gave up on the task. Ugh. When had she last brushed her hair?
She couldn’t remember that, either.
Her mom crossed over to the bed and sat down. “I just got home from my book club meeting,” she started out. Kylie’s eyes widened with surprise. Book club? That was an evening thing. A Monday-evening-from-7-to-9-pm thing, if she remembered correctly.
But, that couldn’t be right. That’d mean that she’d been here a week, and that it was nine at night.
But…but…she’d only been here a day or two, and it was still morning.
Her head hurt.
She surreptitiously grabbed her phone off the nightstand and checked it.
Holy shit.
How was it May 14th? And how was it 9:34 at night?
That couldn’t be right.
Her head hurt even more.
Her mom stopped talking and Kylie looked up blankly. “Sorry, Mom, I missed that. Come again?”
With a disgruntled look, her mom snatched her cell phone out of her hands and set it down on the other side of her. “I saaiidd, the women at Between the Covers mentioned that Doc Whitaker is hiring a receptionist for the clinic.” Kylie gave her a blank look. “The vet clinic,” her mom said, trying to clarify. Kylie blinked. Why was her mom talking to her about the vet? She didn’t have a pet. Hell, she didn’t even have a goldfish.
What she did have was a human being growing inside of her, which was unfortunately much more terrifying than a goldfish. For starters, she didn’t have to push a goldfish out of her—
“You should go apply for the job,” her mom said bluntly, finally giving up all pretense of dancing around the subject.
“Work at the clinic?” Kylie repeated, confused. She’d planned on getting a job someday, but right now, it just seemed overwhelming. She’d have to get out of bed and put on clothes and take a shower – hmmm…maybe, take a shower and then put on clothes – but this all sounded like a lot of movement, no matter what order the steps went in.
“Kylie, you’re in a depressed funk.” Apparently, her mom
was sticking to the blunt plan. “You’ve been here a week almost to the hour, and I don’t think you get out of bed except to go pee and occasionally shuffle to the kitchen to eat a bowl of Cap’n Crunch cereal. I love you, but enough is enough. I am not here to be your source of sugary breakfast cereal for the rest of your life. I am not here to be your babysitter when you give birth to this baby. I am not here to be your refuge where you get to hide from the world. I kept thinking you just needed some time to pull your head out of your ass and get it together, but apparently, that time isn’t going to happen on its own. So, I’m going to force it. You need to get up, take a shower, brush your teeth, brush your hair for hell’s sakes, and then come into the living room. It won’t kill you to go somewhere else other than this bed. We can talk when you’re done.”
And with that edict, her mom walked out of the room and shut the door with a click behind her.
Kylie stared at the door in shock. She couldn’t believe it. Dammit all, she was pregnant and she didn’t know what she was going to do with her life! Her mom could cut her a little slack.
Hot tears of indignation trailed down her cheeks as she headed to the adjoining bathroom, stripping as she went. Her mom could try being nice. Kylie was her only child, after all, and—
The smell hit her nose, stopping her thoughts in their tracks. What the hell is that smell? It was putrid. Had her mother let a dead body rot in the bathtub?
She pulled the shower curtain back cautiously, peering in. Huh. Clean and shining, like always.
Hold on…right before that smell hit, Kylie had just taken off her sweatshirt and tank top that she vaguely remembered wearing on the Greyhound bus to Sawyer.
Which meant that she hadn’t taken them off in eight days.
Could that be right? It couldn’t be right.
She took a tentative sniff of her armpit and yanked her face away in disgust.
Okay, so maybe that was right. Shit, she had no idea body odor could be so offensive.
Kylie peeled the rest of her clothes off and stepped into the shower, holding her breath as much as possible as she quickly adjusted the water to the hottest temperature her skin could bear. As the hot water pounded down on her, the fog that’d wrapped her up in its comforting embrace over the past eight days began to dissipate. She began to feel energy and thoughts and clarity return, ever-so-slowly at first. She scrubbed her scalp with shampoo twice, trying to get the layer of oil and grease out of it that she’d allowed to settle in, and then started in on shaving. The more she scrubbed and shaved and rinsed, the better she felt.
By the time the hot water was gone, her legs were shaky and she felt lightheaded, but she also felt…herself. More alive and present than she had been in weeks. Maybe months.
She brushed her teeth and then tugged on yoga pants and a tank top – a clean one – and headed to the kitchen. She needed to find something to eat, and then she could talk to her mom. She needed fortifications for this convo, she was pretty damn sure. Her mom met up with her in the kitchen as she was rummaging through the fridge. “Feeling better?” she asked, leaning against the counter.
Kylie pulled out a stack of items and piled them on the counter. Mustard, horseradish, sprouts, pepper-jack cheese, sweet pickles, and strawberry jam. Her mouth watered at the sight. This was going to be a glorious sandwich.
“I do. I…” She paused in her slathering of the jam on the rye bread and smiled meekly at her mom. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’m still in shock, I guess.” She went back to spreading a thick layer of sprouts, smooshing it into the jam with the back of a spoon. She ignored the strangled groan of disgust from her mom. “I didn’t realize how long I’d been here, honestly. I thought it’d only been a day or two. I can’t believe it’s been a week.”
She piled some baked ham slices on, and then squished the two sides together with a pleasing smoosh sound. She took a huge bite and let out a groan of happiness. Her mom watched her, a smile playing around the edges of her mouth. “I don’t even need to see the pee stick,” she said dryly. “No one can fake those kinds of pregnancy cravings.”
Kylie shrugged, chewing and swallowing just enough to make room to shove some more in. She hadn’t realized how hungry she’d gotten, either. She had vague memories of pouring herself some Peanut Butter Crunch but she couldn’t remember when or how often. Based on her stomach rumblings, she was going to guess not often enough.
The food began to hit her bloodstream and she felt the trembling in her legs start to go away. She started to feel…human again. It was a wonderful feeling.
“Okay, so tell me about the vet job again,” Kylie said, and then took another huge bite of her sandwich.
It was time to start making some changes, and that began with getting back on her feet. She wasn’t here to be a mooch.
It was about time to act like it.
Chapter 4
Kylie
Kylie went walking up to the front door of the clinic the next afternoon, wiping her palms on the thighs of her jeans before reaching for the door handle. Today had been exhausting – all she’d managed to do was eat more sandwiches and take more naps between last night and now – but she felt like she’d been running a marathon. After a week of almost no movement whatsoever, walking between the bed and the kitchen was a bigger struggle than she really liked to admit.
And now, she’d managed to walk her happy ass all the way down to the clinic, three blocks of walking in the bright sunshine and everything. She was damn happy to be out and about, even if there was no way Dr. Whitaker would hire her as a receptionist, considering she had neither receptionist nor animal experience. This was a fool’s errand, there was no doubt about it.
But on the other hand, he was actually hiring – not a small consideration for a town the size of Sawyer – and the clinic was within walking distance of her mom’s house, also not a small consideration for someone who didn’t own a car.
So, it was worth a try. After this, she would walk over to the Shop ‘N Go and see if they were wanting cashiers or grocery cart chasers or something. No matter what, she wanted to be able to go home that evening with at least a job prospect to share with her mom.
She plastered a smile on her face as she walked into the air conditioned building, the bell overhead jingling, alerting Dr. Whitaker to her presence.
Except…
This can’t be Dr. Whitaker.
Because instead of an old man coming out of the back, a pimply teenage boy not even old enough to shave came walking out. He tugged on the brim of his baseball cap nervously when he spotted her. “Yeah?” he grunted, picking up a pen from the desk and clicking the end rapidly.
“Umm…I’m here about the job opening. Is Dr. Whitaker available?” She tried to keep her voice calm and in control, as if this was normal to go apply for a job. As if she wasn’t at all nervous.
The kid turned towards the back and hollered, “Adam, some chick is here for you!”
Kylie did her best to cover her startled snort of laughter with the fakest cough ever, so when the kid looked at her suspiciously, she just shot him a bright smile.
One guess as to why Dr. Whitaker wants a proper receptionist, and the first three guesses don’t count.
If this was the bar the vet would measure her performance by, she could stop being nervous now. Anything short of accidentally murdering a patient would probably be seen as an improvement.
Dr. Whitaker came walking up from the back, and Kylie had the strongest sense of déjà vu wash over her at the sight of him.
This can’t be Dr. Whitaker.
She remembered the vet – she’d met him when he came to her fifth grade class and did a presentation on the animal sciences and what it was like to be a vet. He’d been old. She remembered that much. Well, that and how pretty his horse was.
But the man standing in front of her with an easy smile on his face, putting his hand out to shake hers…he wasn’t old. He was older than her, sure, but not old. Shoul
dn’t he have a potbelly and whiskers and ruddy cheeks and white hair? A veterinarian version of Santa Claus?
She felt a little off-balance as she put her hand out and grasped his. “I’m Kylie VanLueven,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, even as electrical sparks went shooting up her arm from his warm, calloused hand. “You’re hiring?”
Nervous. So damn nervous. Her heart was racing and her breath was short and she was just staring up at this monstrously tall guy and shaking his hand and…
She finally realized that they’d been shaking for longer than was probably normal and yanked her hand away. A smile played around the edges of Dr. Whitaker’s lips as he drawled, “Nice to meet you. Carol VanLueven’s daughter?”
She nodded, smiling confidently. Fake it ‘til you make it, sister. “You know my mom?”
“Everyone knows your mom,” Dr. Whitaker said with an easy chuckle. “She sure does a lot for this community. We’re lucky to have her. So, you’re interested in the receptionist job, eh?”
“Yeah.” She wiped the palms of her hands on her thighs again. She didn’t expect to be this nervous.
She didn’t expect…him. Dr. Adam Whitaker, country vet for Sawyer, Idaho, was quite possibly the cutest guy she’d ever laid eyes on.
No, she didn’t expect that at all.
Chapter 5
Adam
Adam’s eyes skimmed over Kylie, taking in her appearance. She’d come dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and tennis shoes.
In other words, she came ready to work in a vet office.
He appreciated that. If she’d come in high heels and nylons, he would’ve sent her packing on the spot. He didn’t have time for that kind of bullshit. He dealt with enough shit – real shit – on a daily basis. A girl who spent more time primping than working wasn’t gonna cut it.