Chapter Five

 

HOT TEARS BURN my eyes as I wind the truck down the gravel road leading to the lake. I can’t remember a time where I was ever this angry. Why would Paula do this? I snort out a laugh through my anger. I know exactly why she did it—Publicity. She wants to capitalize on my disease to make money for the record label. She doesn’t care that I’m living through one of my worst nightmares. She just sees it as a way to sell more albums when they finally release it.

Shaking my head, I use the back of my arm to wipe the tears from cheeks. I’m just lowering my arm as I turn a corner and right there, in the middle of the road is a dog, cowering on the gravel as my truck bears down on it.

My blood runs cold as I slam on the brakes and crank the wheel, desperate to avoid hitting it. Though I’m not moving too fast, I lose control and the truck goes into a spin. Gravel pings wildly off the underside and dust clouds the air. My arms fly as I spin the wheel, doing what I can to get it back on course. Finally, the truck lurches to a halt, facing the opposite direction of where I was heading.

My entire body trembles and I gasp for air, bringing my hands up to my chest to help calm my racing heart. Mentally, I do a quick check. Everything seems to be okay, but I’m afraid to look up. I have no idea if I hit that poor dog or not.

Slowly, I lift my eyes, and there she is. A beautiful brown mixed breed dog lays panting in the centre of the lane, struggling to get to her feet. Oh God, I think I hit her. I fling open the door and jump out of the truck, moving towards the dog. Her cries and whimpers fill the air and my heart clenches. Damn it! I think I hurt her.

Approaching her slowly, I squat down, holding my hand out for her to sniff. “Hey, baby. Are you okay?”

The dog sniffs my hand and gives it a lick before crying out in pain once more. I give her a quick check, but see no signs of blood on her fur. Wherever her pain is coming from, it’s not something I can see. She looks healthy, if not a little overweight, but she is quite obviously in a great deal of pain. I pet her head and speak in a soothing tone until I’m sure she’s not going to bite me.

Leaning forward, I slide my arms under her and slowly scoop her up and against my body. “Oh, geez girl. You’re a heavy one, aren’t ya?”

My legs shaking from the added weight, I struggle to stand. Pain slices through my breast, right at the incision area from my lumpectomy. I know I shouldn’t be carrying this heavy dog, but what choice do I have? I can’t just leave her here. She’s in pain.

I move as quickly as I can and make it to the truck. I can’t figure out a way to open the passenger door, but I am able to pull down the tailgate and settle her gently into the back. She whimpers softly and gives my hand a lick.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m going to find someone to help you.”

Slamming the tailgate closed, I rush around to the driver side and hop in. Pulling the gearshift into drive, I step on the gas and speed along the road, heading back towards town. As I drive, I glance repeatedly back in the rear-view mirror to see how she’s doing, and each time, she’s curled up in a ball, right where I’d left her.

The only veterinary clinic in town has been there for as long as I can remember, though since I’ve never owned a pet, I’ve never been inside. I pull into the driveway of the old stone house turned clinic and park around back in the designated parking area.

Urgency overwhelms me when I see that the dog is barely conscious. “Hold on, sweet girl,” I say softly as I scoop her up and rush around to the front entrance. The walk is long, and up a slight hill. The pain in my breast gets worse with every step.

Putting it out of my mind, I push open the door and step inside, my eyes frantically scanning the empty reception area. The dog’s head droops against my arm, and I can tell that she’s out cold. “Hello?” I call out, unable to keep the panic from my voice. “Can someone please help me?”