Book Read Free

Groomed for Love

Page 3

by Helen R. Myers


  After a slight hesitation, Noah did step up into the vehicle. He couldn’t deny that he was curious as to what things looked like inside. “That’s what Mother claims to have been worried about. At home Bubbles has about ten thousand square feet to roam around, all in a safe environment.” As soon as he said that, Noah inwardly kicked himself. Not only did it sound as though he was bragging, but he knew better than to offer details to strangers, particularly about the family’s wealth. Granted, one had only to drive by the property to know they were well-off, but to him this was just another sign of how easily Rylie Quinn could undermine his discipline.

  “Lucky girl. At least we don’t have to worry about her getting enough exercise, regardless of the weather.” Rylie stepped back to make room for him. “I wondered how Mrs. Prescott could be feeding her all of those treats she admits to, yet this munchkin stays at a healthy weight.” She leaned over to pick up the little dog that—upon Noah’s entry—had gone straight to her and planted one tiny foot on Rylie’s sneaker.

  Noah didn’t miss the move, which struck him as possessive. That left Noah with the uncomfortable feeling that the dog could sense his conflicted feelings about Rylie. Or was the animal sticking close to her because she hated the idea of having to ride home with him? At this rate the spoiled fur ball was going to have Rylie thinking he was abusive.

  “She also likes to chase around the pool,” he continued, “while my mother has her therapy.”

  With a sympathetic sound, Rylie said, “I heard about what happened to Mrs. Prescott—and the terrible loss you both suffered. I’m so sorry.”

  Although he nodded his thanks, he had to look away after feeling an unexpected pulling in his midsection, as though someone was tethering them together via invisible strings connected to each of their ribs. In self-defense, he changed the subject. “This is quite a setup you have here. When I heard you had been working out of an RV, I pictured something less...comfortable.”

  Rylie glanced around, her expression reflecting her own sense of good fortune. “A business contact of my parents helped me get a great price and terms. It’s a repo,” she told him. “I didn’t really need anything so big, let alone lavish, but the extra space would have come in handy if Doc hadn’t been so generous in letting me use the clinic’s facilities. But you never know. The clinic business keeps growing, and if things get too crowded for him—especially if he adds staff—then I’ll have to work in here again.”

  Taking that in to mull over later, Noah’s gaze zeroed in on the master bedroom at the far end of the RV. He saw the king-size bed with the blue-and-purple bedspread and small berg of matching pillows piled against the sapphire-blue, cushioned headboard. It was too easy to imagine Rylie lying there, and when his wayward thoughts started to edit what she might—or might not—wear to bed, his body stirred with hunger.

  “Do you have our bill ready?” he asked, abruptly.

  “Oh...of course,” Rylie said, immediately contrite. “Sorry for wandering on. I know you have to get back. Actually, I have another appointment in a few minutes myself.” She went to the dinette table and picked up the invoice lying there beside a half-eaten salad. “I gave your mother a discount because this is Bubbles’s third visit in just over a month, meaning there’s less matting than I usually have to deal with. Also please let her know that Bubbles’s nails didn’t need trimming this time. You’re such a good girl,” Rylie cooed to the dog.

  After eyeing the fresh coat of purple nail polish on the dog’s toes, Noah saw Bubbles lick Rylie’s chin, then give him a look as though telepathically saying, See? This is how I like to be treated.

  Accepting the bill, Noah reached for his billfold. As he handed Rylie the correct amount, he asked, “Would you mind bringing her to my car? I can really do without the ladies in the courthouse snickering at me when I return smelling like I’ve been hanging around a perfume counter.”

  Choking, Rylie insisted, “You’re exaggerating. I can’t handle excessive scents myself, nor can Bubbles. I use a very light touch on my animals.”

  Some inexplicable something egged him on, and Noah intentionally rubbed the tip of his nose. “If that’s restrained to you, we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

  “Don’t listen, cutie.” Rylie cuddled Bubbles again. “He’s determined to try to make us think the problem is with us. I think you smell as delicious as your name, and your mommy will, too.” As the dog reached up and touched a paw to her cheek, Rylie laughed in pleasure. “You are a heart stealer, yes, you are. Let me just stamp your bill as paid,” she told Noah, “and—”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “But I always make sure your mother has a detailed—”

  “I’m handling this for her.”

  Rylie’s face lit with pleasure. “How nice of you.” Leading the way, she opened the door and took care going down the steps. “Gotta be careful with our precious cargo, huh, sweetie?” she crooned to the little dog. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” she added to Noah.

  “It’s hot for autumn.”

  “But the evenings are so nice. Doc has a couple of kenneled dogs this week and he’s letting me walk them. Then they get to spend the night with us. As you saw, there’s plenty of room, and they enjoy it so much more than being locked up in pens.”

  Noah lost the battle with his curiosity. “Us?”

  “MG and me. My dog.”

  “And MG stands for...?”

  “Mommy’s Girl. They told me when I got her from the shelter that they’d named her Marnie, but it was soon apparent that we were going to be very close, and she’s seriously maternal. She instinctively steps in to help whenever she decides I need her assistance with an animal.”

  Noah was sorry he’d asked. Sure, he believed there were special relationships between some pets and their owners, but Mommy’s Girl? That was laying it on a bit thick.

  Unlocking the BMW with his remote, he opened the passenger door for Rylie. Looking over the hood of the car, he considered the grassy area and the woods beyond it where she said she walked. It was more a wild pasture than a park. “Aren’t you concerned about snakes, or getting eaten up by chiggers and mosquitoes?” Texas also had more than its share of wild hogs, coyotes and an increasing number of abandoned dogs, too, he thought.

  “We haven’t been bothered yet,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe there’s safety in numbers. In any case, I tend to take a live-and-let-live approach. It’s more important that the dogs get some attention and exercise. They’re missing their homes, and some are overweight, so being constricted in pens for days is just unhealthy.” She began to put the dog on the BMW’s black leather seat only to rear back. “Oh! Please put on the air conditioner and give us a moment for things to cool down. She’ll get burned.”

  “Try putting her on the floorboard.” When he saw her stubbornly resist, Noah did get into the car and start the engine. Sure, it had gotten warmer in the short time that he’d been in her RV, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been in July or August. As the vents quickly blew cold air through the inside of the vehicle, he reiterated, “The floorboard, please. I don’t want claw runs in the leather.”

  “But she won’t be able to see, and it’s a rougher ride down there.”

  The Mother Teresa of furry creatures really was beginning to push his buttons. “For crying out loud, this car’s shock absorbers are the embodiment of foreign skill in cushion and spring. She has no idea what rough is.”

  With a sigh of exasperation, Rylie said to the dog, “Your big brother is determined to be disagreeable, isn’t he, precious?”

  Big brother? “Okay, that’s enough,” Noah said, having had his fill of this nonsense. “Put the damned dog in now. Please.” He had to get out of there before she fried what brain cells he had left.

  With a mournful glance, Rylie did as ordered. Carefully shutting the door, she bac
ked away.

  As Noah cut a sharp U-turn, he decided he was going to tell his mother that her pet’s groomer—cute as she was—was a nut job who needed a reality check. There were kids, even in this area, who needed help with essentials—food, clothing—not to mention finding a safe family environment. Spending any more time on inanity like this was ridiculous. How could a woman be so adorable, yet irritating at the same time?

  As he circled around the clinic and cut a sharp turn onto the service road, Bubbles barked at him as the force of the turn tipped her over.

  “Oh, put a lid on it,” he muttered.

  Chapter Two

  As Noah expected, his mother was parked in her wheelchair within sight of the front door and applauded with excitement as he entered Haven Land with Bubbles. Adding to his soured mood, she immediately started complimenting Rylie’s work the instant her precious four-legged princess leaped into her arms. Even if he wanted to pass on Rylie’s comments and messages, he couldn’t get a word in due to her effusiveness.

  “Isn’t that shade of purple ribbon adorable, Aubergine?” she said to her housekeeper, who was standing with the glass of tea and the small cup of medications Audra needed to take. “Livie—look at her nails! A perfect match. And she’s so happy to be home.”

  Aubergine Scott had been with the family since before Noah had graduated from high school. She was a single mother of two children, now grown, gratefully educated by his parents. Daughter Rachel was a lawyer in Washington, D.C., and son Randolph was a teacher in Houston. Each had tried to make the sixty-year-old retire, to pay her back for all she’d done for them, but Aubergine liked her independence and was devoted to his mother.

  Olivia “Livie” Danner quit her RN job when Noah’s mother had been discharged from the hospital in Dallas, and joined their makeshift family. Quiet, bookish and athletic, at fifty-seven, she was as reserved as Aubergine was outspoken, but both possessed a dry sense of humor that Noah appreciated, even though quite a bit of it was directed at him. What he cared about most, though, was that his mother liked and trusted her.

  “She’s as pretty as a valentine,” plump and short Aubergine declared.

  “Charming,” tall and toned Livie added, with a tolerant nod. “Please take your medication, Audra.”

  “In a minute. Oh, she smells good enough to eat,” Audra gushed, all but burying her face in the dog’s fur. “Did you properly thank Rylie for me, dear?”

  Ignoring Aubergine’s barely repressed grin, he shoved his hands into his pants pockets to keep everyone from seeing him curl his fingers into fists. “Mother, trust me, she knows how supportive you are of her. She all but rubs it in my face. If anyone should be appreciative, it’s her for having your business.”

  His mother gave him a distressed look. “I swear, you are sounding more like an old grouch every day. And you were raised to have better manners. Do I have to call her and apologize on your behalf?”

  “No, ma’am, you do not,” he said, with only a modicum of guilt. Also not happy to be scolded in front of the other two women, he continued, “Do you mind if I get back to work now? Vance went home sick, so I’m holding the fort today.”

  “What? Then why are you standing there breathing on your mother?” Livie immediately started pulling the chair toward the living room.

  “I’ll get the disinfectant spray,” Aubergine assured her partner-in-protection. To Noah she said, “You heard her, get going. You know her lungs don’t need any more work than they already get.”

  Noah held up his hands in surrender and quickly backed out of their presence. He knew he’d blundered, and the sooner he made his exit the better.

  “Oh, Noah, they’re only being protective,” his mother called after him.

  “And they’re very good at it,” he said with a courtly bow. “Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll eat out. Have to work late.” He didn’t really, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to work ahead.

  * * *

  Judy was on the phone when Noah returned to the office and Ann, the junior clerk, was either still on her lunch break or in some storage room hunting files. Ann was more Judy’s assistant than any help to Vance or himself, and Noah often forgot she was even employed there. From the looks of the poor woman, whom someone had nicknamed “the beige person” for the way she dressed and behaved, she might have easily just emerged from the bland walls one morning and retreated into them at night. She rarely spoke that he could hear.

  Back in his corner, where he was framed by a window, a wall and on the third side file cabinets—the closest thing he could develop into an office—Noah took the extra time to check his email account and then on a whim typed Rylie’s name into the search engine box. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had just enough annoyance left in him to want to see what would happen.

  As expected, there were no clear results. There was a link to Riley’s Car Wash, another Riley who could read your psychic vibes for twenty bucks and a masseuse. For a second he wondered if Rylie changed the spelling of her name to moonlight in an even more lucrative field. Hindsight being what it was, he regretted not having written down the RV’s license plate number. That would be easy enough to check, even if they were still California plates.

  About to start a different search, he saw Judy put her call on hold. “Noah—it’s the sheriff,” she called back to him. “With the D.A. out, he was wondering if you two could meet regarding upcoming cases he thinks are ready for us.”

  “Of course.” With reluctance, Noah shut down his web browser. “Where does he want to meet, here or at his office?”

  * * *

  “Well, if you come now, we’ll see you right away,”

  Roy put his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece and gestured for Rylie not to leave as she’d been preparing to. Curious more than disappointed at not getting to call it a day yet, she backtracked to wait beside him.

  Putting his hand over the mouthpiece, he said, “Noah Prescott. Emergency.” After that he said into the phone, “Come to the side door. If people see vehicles in front, they’ll think we’re open for regular business. We’ll be watching for you.”

  As soon as he hung up, Rylie commiserated on her uncle’s bad luck, while worrying about Bubbles. Uncle Roy had planned to meet the old-timers at the VFW hall to watch a Texas Rangers baseball game this evening. What could possibly have happened to the little dog? “Bubbles is hurt?”

  “Audra Prescott dropped a glass. You can picture the rest. Noah is running the pup over here.”

  “Poor little thing. How badly is she cut?”

  “Bad enough that neither he nor Ramon could get the piece out. The dog snaps at them when they try to get a good look.”

  Rylie wasn’t surprised about her reaction to at least one of the men. “That’s a surprise about her snapping at Ramon.” The caretaker, who was closer to her uncle’s age than Noah’s, appeared to get as much of a kick out of the little dog as his employer did.

  “If you ask me, Bubbles is just partial to women,” Roy said. He nodded to MG. “Like someone else I know.”

  Nudging him affectionately due to his lingering fretting over why MG wasn’t warming to him as much as he expected, Rylie said, “Either way, I know Mrs. Prescott is stressed. You go on, Uncle Roy. I’ll manage this.”

  Although he looked tempted, he hung back. “You haven’t even started your certification as a technician yet. What happens if the dog needs stitches or something else that requires she be put under sedation?”

  “Then I’ll notify Doc and I’ll keep Bubbles as calm as possible until he’s back from his emergency call. Go enjoy your game with the guys, and if something changes that I can’t handle, I’ll holler.” The VFW was only a half mile down the service road.

  Roy seemed tempted, but the pull on his conscience was clearly stronger. “You don’t have a key to lock up in case
Gage isn’t needed.”

  “So lock that side door and leave the back one open. I’ll keep an eye on things until you can make it back here to close up.”

  Roy rubbed at his whiskered jaw. Like Rylie’s father, he took after the Black Irish side of the family, while Rylie favored her red-haired mother, whose ancestors were from England as much as Ireland. “I would give you my key and you could give it back in the morning,” he ventured.

  Rylie loved him for the gesture but shook her head adamantly. “Hey, I will get a key when Doc is ready to give me one.”

  “Which will be soon,” Roy assured her. He gave her a quick hug. “Have I told you lately what a great job you’re doing? I’m really proud of you.”

  Afraid that he was going to ask questions again about why she’d quit veterinary school when she’d been in her last year, she assured him, “That means more to me than I can tell you. Now, go. Enjoy! And I’d like to hear that you actually talked to a woman while you were over there.” She didn’t understand why he was still single after all these years. He didn’t even have someone special he was seeing. On first glance he did appear severe with his stark coloring and serious manner, but he was attractive and fairly fit, although probably a bit too shy with the opposite sex for his own good.

  Relenting, Roy dug his keys out of his jeans pocket. “I’ll see you right after the game is over—unless it’s a total blowout from the beginning. Then I’ll head over here sooner. We can play a couple hands of poker over a beer. It’s time we find out if you can finally keep up with your old uncle.”

  “Be careful for what you wish for,” Rylie countered with a cheeky grin.

  Waving goodbye, she rounded the building to wait on Noah. She knew if she didn’t, he would be confused, then annoyed that things weren’t the way Roy had said he would find them. Also, knowing Bubbles would be stressed, she wanted to make things go as quickly and easily as possible for her, too.

 

‹ Prev