Mach One

by Elsa Jade

  Cautiously, he released her, but she stayed upright. “I hate to leave you if you’re feeling punchy.”

  While it was true, he knew it would also have the effect of steeling her. Sure enough, she straightened, and he could practically see her pushing away any lingering bewilderment in order to seem strong. “I’m good. Just need some sleep and some coffee.”

  He closed his eyes for a second. “Okay then. Have a great day.” Swiveling on his heel, he headed for the door.

  “You too,” she murmured, following him. “Call us if anything comes up. And make an appointment for six weeks for a ‘check-pup’ and her first round of puppy vaccinations.”

  That almost made him laugh out loud, imagining how that would go. “Sure will.”

  At the top of the stairs, he paused and glanced back at her. He needed to walk away. There was no reason for him to stay, like taunting an enemy after a victory. So why did he feel like he would be losing if she shut the door? “I was thinking of getting some coffee myself,” he started tentatively. Was this how Earthers made overtures? He’d only been programmed for war.

  She pursed her lips. “I need to get some sleep.” Was that a note of wistfulness or wariness in her voice? How could he be here a century and still not know? “But I’ll see you when you bring the pup into the office for her shots.”

  Unbeknownst to her, that meant never again. Squelching the disappointment, he gave her a careful tip of his Stetson and started down the stairs.

  “Mr. Halley,” she called.

  He swiveled eagerly on the step to gaze up at her. “Yes, Doctor Chien?”

  “You forgot something.” She disappeared inside while his nanites raced in consternation. But she popped back through the doorway, clutching at the blanket he’d wrapped around her.

  He grimaced, part relief, part dismay. “Oh. I have some business in town. Do you mind if I just leave that here over the rail and come back for it later?”

  She folded her other arm over the top of the blanket, watching him. “There are some squirrels in the cedar who are getting ready for winter, and they’re chewing up everything. I can just leave it inside for now.”

  He nodded once. “Thank you.”

  She nodded back. He might not be good at Earther interactions, but somehow he excelled at awkwardness. That wouldn’t have been his first choice of advanced programming. Not that he ever had choices.

  He clomped the rest of the way down the stairs and swung toward the alley behind the garage that would take him to the street. Though he strained his ears lest she call out to him again, the only sound was the quiet rustle of dying leaves in the October wind, and when he looked back, the door was closed.

  Chapter 8

  Lun-mei watched him go from her windows until he stepped out onto the street, turning toward downtown. Maybe he wasn’t lying to her?

  She stood back with a muttered curse. So weird. Had she really bumped her head that hard? She touched the back of her skull again. She definitely had a headache, but that sometimes happened after not enough sleep and too much caffeine.

  When she realized she was clutching his blanket to her chest like a lifeline, she let it drop to her side with a louder curse. She’d been doing a great job with her large animal house calls, and then the one time she had a slightly problematic dog birth, she managed to knock herself senseless. Great.

  Hopefully none of this got back to Graham, not when he’d been the only rural vet willing to give her a chance. Yes, she’d grown up in The City, and yes, she’d trained at the University of California, Davis, one of the best around. But she didn’t want to just clip the toenails of dogs who walked around on carpeting all day and upsell cancer treatment for geriatric cats. The people out here might be rough, sometimes curt, seemingly disconnected from their feelings—Mr. Halley being a prime example—but their animals were their livelihood, often the only other beings they saw for days at a time. Her presence here mattered in a way that wouldn’t mean as much elsewhere.

  Anyway, Mr. Halley and his ilk weren’t unfeeling, not at all. Just because he didn’t post his emotions for everyone to comment on didn’t mean he didn’t care. He wanted to take her to a doctor for her head bump, and he’d even wrapped her in a blanket. And he’d been so worried about his dog, she remembered…

  She closed her eyes. Damn, did her head hurt. Maybe she should get checked for a mild concussion. She recited the organic chem formulas that she’d forced herself to memorize in school and that had stayed stubbornly with her even after the final. Well, it all seemed to be there still. And she definitely remembered how Mach had smiled at her, his eyes lighting up in delight when the pup was born. Strangely silvery eyes…

  She shook her head hard, which just made it hurt more, and turned away from the window.

  And almost tripped over Hayate who mewed at her insistently and began stropping around her ankles. When Lun-mei leaned down to tickle his spine, the corner of the blanket flopped out of her grasp, and the cat howled with alarm, arching his back and spitting and backpedaling all the while. She straightened in surprise. The one-time feral tom had never been the most emotionally available creature, but mealtimes were one of his friendliest times. Maybe he was just mad that she’d missed his wet breakfast.

  She tossed the blanket on the bed and went to the small efficiency refrigerator. Hayate was instantly snuggles again, and just like that, all was right in her world. Except for this lingering headache.

  She fed the cat, topped off his dry food, cleaned the litter box, checked her phone—no messages, thankfully—and jumped into the shower. Afterward, with the help of two ibuprofen, she felt almost human again. A cup of coffee (she should think about grinding her own beans, though she wasn’t sure why that seemed like a good idea) completed her transformation from mumbling zombie to fully functioning member of society. Good thing, because she had afternoon office hours.

  In her truck, the seat was set so far back she couldn’t reach the pedals and the seatbelt sagged around her. She couldn’t believe he’d had to drive her home. How embarrassing. No wonder he’d thought he could invite her out for coffee.

  Although… She wouldn’t say she wasn’t tempted. She’d been so busy getting established in the practice while still making the occasional trip home that she hadn’t bothered getting around to thinking about dating. And it wasn’t like Carbon County was exactly brimming in options for her love life, although when her sister had said as much, she’d claimed Wranglers increased the automatic sexy quotient by a third and everyone knew it. But if the entire West Coast hadn’t proved good hunting ground long before this, she couldn’t really blame the rest of the West for its failings. “It’s not you, it’s me,” she muttered to herself as she pulled into the clinic parking lot.

  Inside, she caught up with the front desk staff, promising to finish her paperwork from her night calls as soon as possible. As soon as she remembered… She scowled to herself as she knocked at Graham’s office door. When he called out for her to enter, her hand slipped on the doorknob. Her pulse skipped in a strange way, and she stared down at her shaking fingers, gripped by a strange coil of excitement and fear. What…?

  The knob yanked out of her fingers and she looked up at Graham.

  He smiled at her. “Hey there. I said come in.”

  She followed him inside and perched on the edge of the patient chair across from his desk. “I just wanted to apologize for not checking in this morning.”

  He waved one hand. “Midnight calls. Sleep. Coffee. I totally get it.”

  She grinned back at him. They knew her too well. “Anyway, I’m here for the rest of the day if you’ve got better things to do.”

  He gestured at the papers in front of him. “Just a few more notes and I’m out of here. In case you haven’t heard, Dan’s Belgian mare and the foal are both doing great.” He clicked his pen at her. “Thanks to you. He even made a follow-up appointment—and didn’t ask if it was included in your fee—for a checkup on the two.” They ea
ch snorted in harmony. “Did you make it out to the Halley place? I wasn’t sure if it was anything or not since the call got disconnected.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him about the birth, but no words emerged.

  He leaned back in his chair, rolling the pen in his fingers. “Was everything okay?”

  She stood up from the chair, an electric zing of unease making her nerves tingle. “Yeah. I got out there late, and the pup was…caught…” She hated how tentative she sounded. “Breech,” she said more definitively, even though it rang wrongly in her mind. “But everything went fine.” There, that sounded better. She made a fist and then straightened her fingers, trying to flick away the baffling nervousness. She paused at his door, her hand on the knob shaking again, although not so much, thankfully. “What do you know about the Halleys? I got the impression they aren’t much liked.”

  Graham shrugged. “Not not liked. Just…not as friendly as some.” He shrugged again. “You know how it is around here with strangers.”

  She gave him a wry look. “Nah. I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t see race, color, creed, gender—”

  “Maybe you need new glasses,” she said, only partly teasing. “I guess as long as you can tell the horses from the hogs, the cows from the cats, the dogs from the…” A little starburst of pain at her temples made her wince. “Dragon.”

  Graham laughed. “I’m pretty sure I got that last one nailed.” His expression turned serious. “I didn’t hire you for who you are, May. I hired you for what you do: a damn good job.”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “And because now you can stay in bed on winter nights while I go stumbling out into cold, dark barns across parts of five counties.”

  He grinned enthusiastically. “Yup. Still patting myself on the back for that one.”

  Office hours were hopping until early evening when the last dog—a Chihuahua that had to be muzzled to get his nails clipped—was out the door. She updated the charts for the day and said good night to Linda the vet tech. She did one last walk-through of their few in-patients and a couple boarders in the office kennels and then locked up.

  She stood out front of her truck, staring up at the night. The dark came early this year but that just meant there were more stars. Though ragged clouds raced across the sky, there were more twinkling lights up there than every earthly city together. She took a deep breath of air, loving the whiff of cured leaves, woodsmoke, a hint of snow drifting down from the mountains… Ooh, and fresh hops.

  Too late for coffee now, but it was the perfect time for a beer.

  Like a good hunting dog with her nose in the air, she trotted down the sidewalk. Maybe she could get her family, or maybe just her sister, to come in around Christmas. Diamond Valley Depot was small but just quaint enough to look adorable at the holidays. Harvest decorations were everywhere; she figured half the local corn crop was grown just for cute yard décor. And the first ghosts and goblins were popping up from those who couldn’t wait for Halloween.

  She thought she’d kicked her headache, but her temples throbbed again. Mach Halley had said something about trick-or-treating. No, just tricking…

  Had she said it? Now she couldn’t remember. She also couldn’t remember the rules about concussions and drinking, which probably meant she did have a concussion—but dammit, it had been a long day. She’d done a good job, and atta-girls from the boss were nice but a tall frosty one was better.

  Half the shops on Main Street were already closed for the night—she’d been told Diamond Valley was livelier during the hunting and snowmobiling seasons—but just down the street, the brewery’s sidewalk tables were packed. The sound of music reached her (country and western) and she was already smiling in anticipation when a huge, dark figure strode out onto the street in front of her.

  She rocked to a halt, her heart leaping. Speaking of tall and cool… “Mr. Halley.”

  He looked down at her. “Doctor Chien.”

  A terrible thought struck her. “You’re not stranded in town because you gave me a ride, are you?” She scowled at him. “If you are, I’m going to be very angry that you didn’t tell me.”

  He angled his head down to her, the rim of his Stetson shielding his face from the light in the shop window. “I told you, I had some shopping to do,” he said. “But my brother is coming into town later.”

  Though she’d always hated that saying about how curiosity killed the cat, her gaze slid to the shop next to them. “Needed some jewelry for your cows?”

  He dipped his head just enough that the shine from the gemstones and watches glinted across the subtle curve of his lips. “Maybe a gift for my new pup.”

  She nodded, kind of charmed by the idea. “What’s the birthstone for October?”

  “Not sure. But I’ve heard puppies will take any kind of treasure.”

  “No, that’s…” She quirked her lips to one side in surprise at the word that again into her mind. “Dragons.”

  The rancher towering above her didn’t move or say anything, but suddenly she was strangely aware of being his entire focus.

  “Maybe that’s so,” he said finally. “Did you change your mind on that coffee?”

  She shook her head, as if she could shake that echoing word out from between her ears. “I was actually going for a beer instead.”

  He tipped his hat again, back to hiding his face. “Well then. Enjoy.”

  Maybe it was the beautiful fall night or thinking about her sister’s snarking—or maybe it was the concussion—but for some reason she found herself wanting to get to know this big, quiet, dog-loving rancher. Maybe he wanted to get to know some more people too, even though Graham said he didn’t get out much, let people see beyond his enormous size and admittedly terrifying appearance.

  Her heart was beating faster in the same way it did when she was walking into a loose box or an open paddock for the first time, wondering what she’d find. Well, she hadn’t been trampled or gored yet, and as intimidating as Mach Halley was, she didn’t figure he’d bite her.

  “While you’re waiting for your ride,” she found herself saying, “you can wait with me at the brewery. If you’d like.”

  She finally saw his face in full as he tipped his head back in surprise, like a startled stallion. “I’d…like. If you don’t mind sharing.”

  She snorted and made a circle around him—a fairly large circle since he was a fairly large man—and continued on her way down the sidewalk. “I’m not going to drink it all.” She glanced back over her shoulder to see that he hadn’t moved. “So are you coming or not?”

  He pivoted and fell into step beside her in one stride. “Well, I have seen you with coffee, so you can understand my concern.”

  She looked up at him, wrinkling her nose. “Hey, it was late. I’d been up all night anyway. And then you called about your…dog.” It took everything she had not to say dragon. Maybe when she’d hit her head she’d knocked that neuron loose and now it was misfiring all the time.

  Inside, they were lucky to find a couple of stools at the quiet end of the bar. When the bartender stopped across from them, Lun-mei studied the board then sighed. “I’ll have your house ginger ale and bitters, please.”

  The bartender turned her attention to Mach who set his Stetson on the bar and said, “Whatever pilsner is on tap.”

  Lun-mei huffed under her breath and when he lifted one eyebrow, she confessed, “I had you pegged as a stout man.”

  He ran one hand over his hair, dark brown as the darkest beer, smoothing it unnecessarily. “Because I’m stout.”

  “I would’ve said manly, but that’s totally judgey, right?” She gave herself a light smack on the cheek. “Feel free to walk away from me now.”

  “Then I’d have to wait by myself, and you’re better than nothing so…”

  She laughed, and when their pint glasses came, she held hers out. After a moment, he clinked his against it. “Here’s to happy, healthy pups who
never judge.”

  He drank, then confessed, “I ate the last bite of a sandwich once while Chip and Pickle were watching. I felt very judged.”

  She twisted her lips into an uh-oh face. “Did they pee in your shoe after?” When he shook his head, she said, “So they must still love you. Unlike Hayate. My cat,” she clarified at his confused look. “He hates everything. Except food. And this time I feel qualified to judge because I’ve lived with him for fourteen years.”

  “That’s a long time.” Mach looked down into his drink. “Does it ever bother you to be responsible for his life?”

  “Bother me?” She took another drink, rolling the bubbly bitters over her tongue. Not quite as good as a beer, but good. “I’m a veterinarian. Everyone in my family is a doctor, but I wanted to go my own way, be my own person, and so…ta-da, animal doctor. I’d have chosen the wrong profession if I didn’t want to care for him and nicer creatures than him.”

  “Chosen, right.” He took a much longer drink than she had, and the bartender walked back to them, obviously noticing.

  “Another?” Her hand was already on the tap.

  He nodded, and Lun-mei touched the back of his hand. He looked at the connection then at her.

  “Your pup is fine,” she murmured, infusing as much confidence as she could into her voice. Wasn’t as much as she would’ve liked because of her stupid memory, but still. “It’s hard sometimes when they trust us and need us, and we don’t always feel worthy. But we have opposable thumbs and those cans of kibble aren’t going to open themselves.”

  She said it so seriously, it took a moment for him to give her that little smile of his. “I’m pretty sure this new pup will figure out a way.”

  Maybe it was forward of her, but she curled her fingers forward into his grasp. “Then see? You’re already a great step-dad, raising a smart, resourceful little pup.” She realized she’d been all but hanging onto him and abruptly let go. “Just be the person your dog thinks you are.”

  Before she could withdraw very far, he twisted his hand around to capture hers. His grasp was gentle but inescapable, like the hold she used on the feral barn cats that had to be desexed and treated for pests.