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Matt narrowed his eyes in concentration as he began closing the abdominal incision. He was working on Henry, a seven-year-old Weimaraner lying stretched out on the operating table. The beautiful hound had been rushed in by his owners when he had begun pacing and drooling excessively, and his stomach had become swollen and distended. They had been terrified that it would be “bloat”—an urgent, life-threatening condition affecting deep-chested dogs where their stomachs filled up with trapped gas and, in the worst case scenario, twisted on itself. And they had been right.
Henry’s stomach had already begun torsioning when he arrived, with the blood flow to the abdominal organs rapidly being compromised. If his owners had left it any longer, he could have gone into shock and multiple-organ failure, leading to death within a few hours. It was probably one of the worst canine emergencies you could encounter and every large breed owner’s nightmare.
But at least Henry had been brought into the animal hospital in time. Matt had quickly performed a decompression procedure on the Weimaraner’s stomach, using a large needle which allowed the trapped gases to escape, then launched straight into abdominal surgery, fervently hoping that the dog’s twisted stomach and spleen had not been irreversibly damaged. If the tissue death was too extensive, Henry’s chances of recovery would have been poor and the kindest thing would have been to put him to sleep.
Luckily, though, they had caught it in time. Matt had repositioned the stomach properly and then performed a gastropexy, suturing the stomach to the abdominal wall, so that if Henry bloated again at least his stomach wouldn’t be able to twist.
He tied off the last knot and cleaned the wound with a saline-soaked sponge, then removed the sterile drapes. Matt checked the dog’s vitals—they were looking stable—and nodded to the vet nurse, who started preparing Henry to be taken to the ICU. They weren’t completely in the clear yet—a lot of dogs developed cardiac arrhythmias and died post-surgery. They would have to monitor Henry’s heart rate and rhythm closely, as well as watch for other complications. But hopefully with Henry being a fairly young, healthy dog, his chances of a complete recovery were good.
Matt sighed, taking off his mask and pulling off his scrub cap. He needed to go out and speak to Henry’s owners—let them know that the Weimaraner had come out of surgery safely—and then write up the post-operative care orders. He rubbed his neck, trying to ease the tension from his muscles. It had been a long day of operating, with several other cases in addition to Henry’s. Still, it was always worth it to see the expressions of relief on clients’ faces, such as Henry’s owners when he went out to see them.
“So he’ll be okay?” asked the wife. Her eyes were red and she had obviously been crying.
“He’s not out of the woods yet,” said Matt cautiously. “He could still develop post-operative complications. But it’s looking hopeful. The first forty-eight hours after surgery are the most critical.”
“Can we see him?” asked the husband.
“He’s in the ICU now and he’s still heavily sedated from the anaesthetic, so he won’t be aware of anything for a while. You’ve been sitting here for hours now—why don’t you go and grab a drink or a bite to eat and come back in a couple of hours? Maybe even go home and rest a bit,” he suggested gently. “We’ll ring you if there are any developments, but he should just gradually come round.”
“Thank you.” The wife clasped his hand, her lips wobbling. “Thank you for saving Henry’s life.”
Matt patted her on the shoulder. “No need to thank me. You’re the ones who saved his life by recognising the symptoms of bloat so quickly and bringing him in. Try not to worry—he’s got the best chance of making a recovery now, so you need to take care of yourself, okay?”
She nodded, her eyes starting to fill again. Her husband put his arm around her and the two of them walked slowly out of the surgery. Matt watched them go. He really hoped that Henry would pull through. It would break their hearts to lose the beautiful hound.
Matt had just sat down in his office to complete the post-operative notes when his phone rang. He felt a twinge of unease when he heard Pippa’s voice. He hadn’t seen her properly since their trip to the Hunter Valley last weekend. It had been a full week with long days at the clinic and they had only managed a quick drink together at the Laughing Kookaburra in the middle of the week, but she had seemed distant and preoccupied. He knew that her interview on Tuesday at the resort hadn’t gone as she’d hoped and that she was worried about her job prospects, although she hadn’t seemed to want to talk about it much. He wondered now if she was calling him with good news. Then he noticed that her voice sounded particularly flat.
“I... I haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I?” she asked.
“No, you’re good,” he assured her. “I’ve just come out of surgery, actually.”
“Oh. Was is something serious?”
“Bloat. Gastric dilatation volvulus. Probably the worst canine emergency you can get. But the dog made it through surgery and, hopefully, should make a full recovery.”
“Oh, that’s great. Um... what kind of dog was it?”
Matt wondered if Pippa was really interested. He got the feeling that she was stalling. “It was a Weimaraner. It’s one of the breeds at highest risk for bloat.” He heard a commotion in the background. “What’s that?”
Pippa heaved a sigh of exasperation. “Sparky. She’s becoming so naughty. She’s just climbed onto the bookshelf and knocked half of my books off the top. And she keeps getting into all sorts of crazy places! This morning I had to fish her out of the toilet bowl, and last night she got stuck in one of the old air vents in the living room wall.”
Matt chuckled. “As long as she doesn’t climb into the oven, she should be okay.”
“Heaven forbid!” said Pippa. “Don’t even suggest it!”
Matt expected her to laugh but she sounded more aggravated than amused. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
There was a pause, then she said in a rush, “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“How are things on the job front?”
She sighed. “Nothing still. Matt...” She paused again. “I was thinking...”
“Yes?”
She sighed again. “Nothing. I... I’d rather tell you in person. Can we meet up tomorrow? I know you’re covering the animal hospital this weekend but I was thinking maybe we could have dinner together tomorrow night—”
“Actually, I’m busy this weekend,” said Matt.
“Oh...?”
Matt hesitated. Should he tell her? Ever since he had gotten the message last night he had been wondering how to break the news to Pippa. “I’m sorry—I’ve... er... got a friend visiting from Sydney and I’ll be busy all weekend.”
“Oh.” Pippa’s voice was thick with disappointment.
Matt felt something in him react to the distress in her voice. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. Why complicate things? He wasn’t even sure of his own feelings... he didn’t want to find himself making promises he couldn’t keep.
“Well...” Pippa made an attempt at cheerfulness. “I hope you have a good time.”
“Thank you,” said Matt blandly. “I’d better go now—I’ve still got a few patients waiting.”
“Oh, sure, of course,” Pippa said quickly. “Well... um... I’ll speak to you next week, I guess. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Matt stared at the phone in his hand, wondering if he should have said something else. The despondency in Pippa’s voice tore at him. He knew that his sudden withdrawal had bewildered her. But this was the best way. He sighed. He had been so determined to stay away from Pippa, but somehow she had gotten under his defences. And he had discovered that he didn’t want to fight the temptation. He wanted to be with her.
He thought back to their day trip in the Hunter Valley—it had been the first time that the dark cloud over his head had lifted—the dark cloud which had been with him since last Christmas, when he had split from Justine. Just being with Pippa, seeing her smile, feeling her in his arms... he wanted more of that. The contentment, the euphoria, the thrill of just having her near him.
But it wasn’t that simple. Were his feelings real? Or just the reaction to being lonely and in the company of a pretty woman? And what about the past? Could he just abandon everything he had once hoped for, to follow a new dream? Well, this weekend will find out, Matt thought as he put the phone away and pulled the paperwork towards him. The two cases left to see seemed to be fairly straightforward consults. With any luck, he might be able to leave in an hour.
He was just finishing his notes when the door to the office burst open and one of the vet nurses stood there.
“We’ve just had a couple rush in with a Bull Terrier. They think he might have swallowed their son’s video game controller.”
Matt shook his head with a wry laugh. “Okay, I’ll be right out.” As he quickly signed off the post-operative notes, he realised that he would have to revise his estimate. It didn’t look like he was going to leave the animal hospital any time soon.
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The cherry-red convertible, its metal body gleaming in the sun, pulled up in front of the bistro with a throaty growl and parked next to Matt’s Range Rover. He watched as a beautiful brunette wearing oversized sunglasses stepped out from the driver’s seat. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he saw her. She was wearing a white, figure-hugging halterneck dress, the colour showing off her golden tan and the style highlighting her breasts and bare shoulders. Her toes showed off a gleaming red pedicure in her stiletto sandals and her make-up was faultless. More than several men—as well as a few women—turned their heads to watch her as she sashayed from the car to the bistro entrance.
She moved like a model, with slow, languid confidence, and the look on her face was soft and inviting as she approached Matt. He had to admit that she was stunning, easily outshining every woman there. As she came up to him, he saw the looks of envy on several men’s faces and it brought back what it was always like to go out with Justine.
“Hello, Matt.” She smiled at him as she removed her sunglasses. Her voice was high and a little breathless, not at all the deep, throaty purr you’d have expected from her seductive appearance. Instead, it was more like a little girl’s, seeking approval. It had always been part of her charm, this flash of vulnerability. It was one of the things that had first drawn him to her and he was remembering again why he found her so attractive.
“Hi, Justine.” He smiled and stepped forwards to peck her on the cheek.
She caught his shoulders with both hands, her lips rounding in a pretty pout. “Is that all the welcome I get? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Then she curled her right hand around his neck and pulled his head down to hers, slanting her mouth across his in a possessive kiss.
