Wednesday passed in a blur, what with a busy clinic schedule and another trip out to Margie’s place with Logan to check on the paint mare.
When Darcy finally picked up Emma at the sitter’s and got home, she was too tired to make anything more than hamburgers and green beans for supper.
But afterward, once Emma was tucked into bed, she finished the final coat of polyurethane on the master bedroom floor, flopped onto the sofa—the only piece of furniture in the living room—and heaved a sigh of relief. One room done.
She’d been flippant while telling Logan she could do it all herself once it was clear that he’d be laid up for a while. Saving his time for more complex projects had seemed logical at the time.
True, she could follow directions and slowly get the floors done, but all of the steps took more time than she’d dreamed. And after prying at the vinyl on the kitchen floor for an hour, she knew it was going to be one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.
At a knock on the door she jumped, startled and a little nervous as always about a stranger showing up on her porch after dark. Her heart had been broken after losing her elderly dog Elsie last fall, but as a single parent, Darcy also missed her fierce barking whenever someone approached the house.
No stranger would have guessed the noisy dog inside was a thirty-pound marshmallow.
“Yoo-hoo, are you home?” At the sound of Beth’s cheerful voice, Darcy hurried to the front door and let her in.
“I have to follow up on everyone who won a handyman at the auction and make sure things are working out.” Her arm curved around a clipboard, Beth surveyed the furniture piled in the kitchen and the bare floor of the living room. “Wow. You’re sure making progress. Is Logan working out for you?”
“Very well. He repaired the picket fence and also started the flooring, but then injured his shoulder. He also has some great ideas for the kitchen cupboards, though there might not be enough hours to cover any of that.”
“And how are you two getting along?” Beth waggled her eyebrows. “I was just at the salon getting my hair trimmed, and he seemed to be the hot topic of the day. Sooo handsome. So nice. So eligible. Just thought I’d mention it in case you’ve had any thoughts in that direction.”
“No. Absolutely not. It can be open season on Dr. Maxwell for as long as it takes for someone to tie him down. Really.”
Beth gave her a speculative look, her mouth twitching. “Sounds like an awful lot of protest.”
“Well, I mean it. You know what happened back in Minnesota with Dean. I trusted him. How can I dare fall for anyone else and be sure it won’t happen again? I was completely clueless.” Darcy snorted. “As in, too stupid to live.”
“I predict you’re going to find the right guy someday. A guy you can completely trust and love forever. And then you’ll have to eat your words. For the record, I do think your new vet is pretty hot.”
Well...yes. And he was turning out to be a much nicer guy than she’d first thought. But that didn’t mean she would take a chance on him or anyone else. “It just isn’t worth it. And what about Emma? I don’t want to start dating and have her thinking she’ll have a new daddy soon, then be heartbroken if the relationship doesn’t work out. She is my priority.”
“How is she doing, by the way? I heard she had an asthma episode after church last Sunday, when my husband and I were out of town.”
“She was fine after using her rescue inhaler. This time of year is tough for her, with the grasses and weeds, but molds and perfumes spell trouble, too. Since there were a lot of visitors at church for a baptism, maybe it was perfume.”
“Poor sweetheart.”
“She’s been fine since. We just never know. Sometime she even starts wheezing without any of her usual triggers nearby. The doctor said her sensitivities could change over time. I’m just hoping they go away.”
“Me, too. It’s always a worry having something like that. By the way—different topic—we’ve missed you at the book club lately. Monday mornings, eight o’clock at my bookstore?” Beth teased. “Thought I would mention it since we haven’t seen you for so long.”
“I used to keep that first hour on Monday morning open so I could join you, but things have been a lot busier lately. Once we get into summer and people are traveling, the schedule at the clinic will slow down.”
Beth gave her a knowing look. “When you come, bring that vet you’re definitely not interested in. We have some new members who might like to check him out.”
* * *
Check him out, indeed. Beth’s words kept slipping into Darcy’s thoughts as she worked through a busy appointment schedule the next day. How did she feel about that, really?
She’d told Beth the truth. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. Dean had pretty much cured her of that basic human longing for companionship and love. She’d had to immerse herself in prayer to finally let go of the hurt and anger following his betrayal.
But did she really want to see Logan madly in love with someone else? It was selfish not to wish him happiness. She didn’t even know him that well.
But with every day that she worked with him, with every conversation, she’d started to see new sides to him that had begun to touch her heart.
With several emergency call-ins and no extra time in her schedule to cover them, he had taken the extra appointments this afternoon so those clients wouldn’t face long waits.
Now, on her way to the lab, she passed the open door of an exam room where an elderly woman hovered anxiously over her obese Maltese while Logan checked its heart and lung sounds.
It was Mrs. Peabody, dressed as usual in her faded print Sunday dress, sturdy laced shoes and a sagging sweater that had seen better days. Bent over and always short of breath, she religiously brought her dog into the clinic for the slightest signs or symptoms but was only able to pay a few dollars each time against her ever-growing account.
Darcy hated to accept even that much from her and had begun charging her less and less, waving off the old woman’s protests by saying, “Today we’re having a sale,” or “I really didn’t do that much, anyway.”
Darcy lingered just past the door, hoping Logan wouldn’t look at Mrs. Peabody’s balance at the top of the clinic visit sheet. Hoping he wouldn’t say anything less than tactful. If she asked about today’s cost and he told her the truth, she’d probably succumb to a massive heart attack at his feet.
“I-is my baby all right?” The old woman’s voice quavered. “I was so afraid this morning when his breathing didn’t sound right. H-he’s all I have left, doctor.”
It was true. Her husband had died years ago, and her only child—a retired teacher—had passed back in December. Without her little companion, by now the crushing loneliness and grief might have taken Mrs. Peabody, as well.
There was a long pause. Darcy held her breath.
“He’s a beautiful dog, ma’am. And don’t you worry. His heart and lungs sound fine. There’s one thing he needs to do, though.”
“I suppose you want him to lose weight,” she said on a long sigh. “Dr. Leighton says that, too. But he gets exactly the right amount of dog food.”
“The weight loss formula?”
She nodded. “What Dr. Leighton prescribed. I buy it here.”
“Then it’s the extra little treats that have to go. Being overweight is very hard on his heart, so he needs less food and more walking.”
Darcy continued on to the lab, the voices following her down the hall.
“But he loves his treats and looks at me so sadly if he doesn’t get just a tiny bit off my plate,” she said sorrowfully. “How can I refuse? What is life without small pleasures?”
Darcy smiled to herself, waiting for his response. Good luck, Dr. Logan.
Footsteps came down the hall, and Logan appeared at the door of the lab. “Do we have any sample-size bags of light dog treats?”
“Top shelf, on your left. But—”
He grabbed a couple of bags and left before she could warn him about billing Mrs. Peabody.
His voice filtered down the hall as he explained the low-calorie treats and a proper diet.
Darcy once again held her breath when she heard him wrapping up his advice and saying farewell.
Then warmth washed over her like a gentle hug as she heard his next words.
“No—of course not.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper that Darcy could barely hear. “No charge for today. We weren’t that busy, and I didn’t really do anything. Anyway, we all love to see you and your beautiful little dog.”
* * *
After dialing the front desk and telling Marilyn there’d be no charge for the elderly lady toddling slowly down the hall with her dog, Logan left the exam room to head to back to his office.
As he passed the lab, Darcy stepped out the door and they nearly collided. He grasped both of her upper arms when she staggered, but quickly released her.
Her eyes widened. “Sorry.”
He said it at the same moment she did, and they both laughed self-consciously as they stepped back. The air between them seemed to quiver with emotion and unspoken possibilities.
She readjusted the stethoscope draped around her neck. “How was Mrs. Peabody’s dog?”
“Obese.”
“She worries about him all the time, you know. He’s the only friend she has. Her family is gone, and I hear all of her human friends have passed on, as well. Um... I couldn’t help overhearing...” She angled an amused smile at him. “If you talk loud enough for her to hear, you might as well be using a loudspeaker. Sounds like you charged her as much as I do.”
He felt himself flush a little. “This can’t be run as a free clinic, but...”
“I know. You don’t have to say it. She’s just such a sweet old lady.” Her eyes twinkled with silent laughter as her soft gaze locked on his and a faint blush stained her cheekbones. “I’m just relieved to find you have the same soft side for her that I do. And about those light treats? Tried already. The next time she came in, she told me he didn’t like them—unless she slathered them with gravy. But I’m sure she didn’t want to admit that to you.”
“A losing battle?”
“Definitely a losing battle. She loves him up with food, and after seeing that dog for a year, I can tell you that it isn’t going to change.”
The equine practice back in Montana had been highly professional. Successful. Busy. A well-run business—at least, until Cathy showed up. But from his first day in Aspen Creek, this town, these people and this practice had been proving to be so much more. Quirky. Warm. Populated with people who really seemed to care about each other.
“Does she truly understand how serious this is?” he asked. “Her little buddy isn’t going to have a very long life if he doesn’t lose weight.”
“I figure it’s like water dripping on a stone. If we talk to her every time she comes in, we may finally wear her down. I just hope it isn’t too late.” Darcy eyed him thoughtfully. “I’m guessing that this sort of thing wasn’t an issue at your last practice.”
He had to laugh at that. “Not often. But then, we weren’t dealing with doting small-animal owners like Mrs. Peabody. Our clients included most of the large breeding farms in the county. A lot of training facilities and many of the smaller show stables. Anyone who wasn’t concerned about optimal feeding and health care wouldn’t stay in business very long.”
“Do you miss it?”
“The practice?” He considered that for a moment. “I miss...what it was. The state-of-the-art, high-tech equipment that made it easier to provide the very best of care. Much of it is beyond the financial reach of a one-or two-vet practice. I miss the large staff.”
“But things changed.”
“Yeah. Some things changed.” He lifted his uninjured shoulder dismissively. “So now I’m glad to be where I am. Where ideally I have more control if issues arise.”
“Except with the Mrs. Peabodys of the world?” she teased.
“I have to believe that she’ll eventually listen to reason. I’m not giving up on her.”
“Good luck with that.” Darcy patted his arm. “You keep trying, and I’ll start praying. And sooner or later, it’s gonna happen. He cares for the least of his creatures, you know.”
He watched her head down the hall to an exam room, where another client was waiting.
Praying.
She’d said the word with such simple, straightforward faith. No hint of doubt, no hesitance about the power of prayer.
He knew the exact date when he’d last hoped prayer could alter the course of his life, and God hadn’t been listening that time, either. Logan hadn’t sent any more desperate pleas heavenward after that. But now he began to wonder. Was it ever possible to regain a childlike faith after so many things had gone wrong?