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“Do you like condos, Chewy?” Zoe asked, tentatively reaching her hand out to let him sniff.
He woofed softly and sat politely back on his hind legs. His woof blew the hair out of his eyes long enough to see the black gaze staring back at her.
“He needs a haircut,” Zoe said.
“There’s a groomer not far from the obedience school. I didn’t see you pull up in a car.”
“I walked,” Zoe said, still numb from all the life-changing decisions she’d made in less than twenty-four hours. “I live in the condo over by the lake.”
“Ooh, nice,” Mac said. “My cousin Hank built that development. It’s very swanky. Chewy is definitely an uptown dog.”
Chewy looked Zoe up and down, obviously trying to decide whether or not she passed muster, and he woofed once more before walking past them both and down the long row of kennels to the lobby door.
“Well,” Zoe said. “I guess he’s decided to adopt me.”
Chapter Two
Colt O’Hara signed off on a chart and handed it back to his nurse. In return, she handed him the cup of coffee he so desperately needed.
His eyes were blurry and there was more than a day’s worth of beard on his face. But Juliette Martin had finally delivered a healthy baby boy at seven that morning after sixteen hours of labor. Just in time for him to splash cold water on his face and be back at his office for his first appointment at eight.
He loved being a doctor. Correction…he loved being a doctor in Laurel Valley. There was a reassuring consistency in seeing to the needs of the three thousand full-time residents who lived in the resort town. And like any small-town doctor, he did a little bit of everything. There was something special about participating in the joys of a new baby, grieving with those who’d suffered loss, and going through the life stages of everything in between.
During tourist season—summer and winter—his schedule would get a little tighter. He’d treat plenty of people with altitude sickness or the common cold. But there were medics on the ski slopes and out on the lake, so anything more severe was automatically sent to the emergency room at the hospital in McCall.
“I’m heading over to The Lampstand for lunch,” Lucy Hatchett said. “Going to meet my daughter. She said if she didn’t get out of the house and away from the kids for a couple of hours she was going to request you sign her into the psych ward at St. Matt’s so she could get a few days of peace and quiet.”
Colt chuckled and stretched his neck from side to side, working out the stiffness. Hannah had graduated with his oldest brother, Duncan. She’d gotten married right out of high school to Beau Bright and then given birth to a son every year for the next five years. She’d given up on having a daughter, but had finally gotten her wish a couple of years back with a surprise package. And then Hannah had promptly told Beau to get a vasectomy.
Lucy had been his nurse since he’d bought the practice from Doc Willis five years before. And she’d been the nurse for Doc Willis for the forty years before that. She barely stood over five feet tall, her face was wizened like a gnome, and her steel-gray hair was always perfectly set in sausage curls that lined up like soldiers across her pink scalp. She knew everyone in Laurel Valley’s medical history and had it committed to memory. She gave scoldings when they were needed and lollipops to anyone under the age of twenty and over the age of sixty at every visit. He’d be lost without her.
“You go home and get some sleep,” she said. “I’ve seen corpses that look better than you. I’ll lock up here. Wally Gaines is our only afternoon appointment, but I’ll give him a call and see if he can come in tomorrow morning. His gout is flared up, so it’s nothing to write home about. No need to hang around here and watch the paint dry.”
Closing at noon on a Wednesday sounded like a marvelous idea. And there was no use arguing with Lucy. He wouldn’t have had the energy anyway. He was asleep on his feet, and then he remembered the coffee in his hand and took a sip, letting the bitterness send a jolt through his system.
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all week,” Colt said.
“Of course it is,” she said, her lips pressing together in a thin line. “You think you get to be my age without having two brain cells to rub together?”
“No, ma’am.”
She hmmphed and then looked at him over the top of her glasses. “Maybe since you’re so affable I should ask for a raise. Ever since your brother started building those condos and resorts the cost of living around here has gone sky high.”
Colt grinned, enjoying the familiar argument. Lucy was probably the highest-paid nurse in the state and she knew it. There was a reason she hadn’t retired.
“Hank’s a modern-day land baron,” Colt agreed. “I don’t know how he keeps getting invites to Sunday dinner.”
“Your mother has a soft heart,” Lucy said, clucking her tongue. “Bless her. I guess it’s a good thing Hank is so good looking, otherwise he wouldn’t have a thing going for him.”
“Which is why every single woman in west Idaho has tried to catch his attention,” Colt said. “He might as well go on one of those dating reality shows and be done with it.”
Lucy hmmphed. “I haven’t noticed you trying too hard to fight off all that female attention.”
He gave her a grin and a wink and said, “That’s because I’m a romantic at heart. I’m looking for that special someone.”
She snorted out a laugh. “Don’t play me, Colt O’Hara. They don’t call you Dr. O’Heartthrob for nothing. Maybe the lot of you should go on a reality show together. How you all hit the genetic lottery is beyond me. But you’re not fooling anyone, young man. You aren’t looking to settle down or you wouldn’t keep dating those empty-headed ninnyheads. This place is running smooth and steady thanks to me, you make a good living, and you’re not hard on the eyes either.”
Colt arched a brow. “Thank you?”
