“Hey, puppy. Who’s a good dog? Are you okay?” I keep my voice soft, and I watch its ears perk up when it sees me. There’s no collar, but the dog comes to me easily, sniffing and licking my hand. “Well, you certainly are a friendly thing.” A glance between the legs tells me he’s a boy. “Okay, boy, I can’t leave you here. Think you want to go for a ride?”
The dog limps over to my Jeep, then stands there looking at me. “Crap. You can’t get in, can you?” A low whine melts my heart and I give him a boost into the backseat. “Okay, I got you now, buddy.”
I take the rest of the drive back to town a lot slower, glancing in my mirror every couple of minutes to look at my passenger. He’s lying on the back seat, tongue hanging out, and I swear he looks like he’s smiling. He’s huge; must be a lab mixed with something big is my guess. The problem is, what do I do with him now that I’ve got him? Dogwood Cove doesn’t have an animal shelter, so I phone the one in Westport, which is the closest town to us. When they say they’re full and can’t accept him, I’m stumped. The next closest place would be Victoria, but that’s over an hour away. “We’ll go see Ethan. He’ll know what to do.” The dog lets out a low ruff of agreement. At least, that’s what it sounds like to me.
But when we get to Ethan’s office, he’s in the middle of a crisis, thanks to his idiotic decision to keep a massive secret from Summer. I can’t help him get out of this one, and he can’t take the time to help me figure out what to do with the dog. Which makes our next stop the local vet clinic.
When I park out front, I turn back to the dog. “Okay, buddy. I hope you’re not one of those dogs who’s scared of the vet, because we need to get you checked out. And you’re a lot bigger than me. So let’s do this together, okay?”
He hops out of the back seat, landing on three paws. I’m worried about that leg of his, which is crazy, seeing as he isn’t even my dog. But I feel responsible for him. We head inside without any issue, and I check in with the receptionist. A few minutes later we’re in the examination room, waiting for Doctor Morton, the town vet.
“Mila Monroe, what have we here?”
Doc Morton is an older man, with one of those loud booming voices that always startles me. When I jump at his voice, the dog lets out a low gruff, and leans into me. My hand goes to his head and I scratch his ear.
“I found him on the highway. He’s limping, and there’s no collar. I figured my first stop should be to get him checked out.”
“That was a smart idea, Mila. Let’s take a look.”
Even though Doctor Morton’s specialty is large animals, like horses, he does a thorough examination, and I’m impressed by the fact that the dog sits patiently through it all. His soulful brown eyes — the dog’s, not Doctor Morton’s — are on me the entire time, and I feel myself becoming more attached every minute. Wherever this guy came from, he seems like a total sweetheart, and I can’t imagine a family not missing him. But he doesn’t have a tattoo or a microchip, and the receptionist couldn’t find any dogs like him listed anywhere as missing, which leaves his appearance on the highway a mystery.
“Without doing any more intensive diagnostics, I would say his leg was injured somehow. Maybe he was hit by a car; we’ll never know. But the good news is that rest, gentle activity, and some anti-inflammatories should help. You can either take him to Victoria or hang onto him for now.” Doctor Morton removes his gloves and leans back against the counter. “I’m not sure if we’ll ever figure out who his owner is or was. But he’ll need to go somewhere that can manage his limited mobility and make sure he gets the medication for his leg daily.”
I nod slowly, my eyes cast down at the dog’s head that is resting on my lap. “I’ll take him home for now.”
“Okay, let me set you up with some tablets to get you started, and a list of what you’ll need from the store. Next time you come in, I’ll have you meet our new veterinarian. I believe he has some more recent experience treating orthopedic injuries in large breeds.”
And that’s how I find myself loading the dog back into my car and heading to Westport, where there’s one of those big pet stores. I’m several hundred dollars poorer, but the dog has been vaccinated, had x-rays of his legs done, and pronounced healthy, except for the leg injury.
Later that night, after dealing once more with my idiot brother and his royal screw up with Summer, I climb into bed and turn on my side to watch what the dog does. He ambles over to the dog bed I placed beside my own, and sniffs at it. Then he turns three times before collapsing into a pile of furry limbs.
“Good night, pup. We’ll figure out a name for you in the morning.” I yawn, my eyes closing after what’s turned out to be one hell of an eventful day.
But my last thought before I fall asleep isn’t of the dog asleep on the floor, or on Ethan and Summer’s fight. No, the last thing that runs through my mind is, I wonder if I should make bran muffins tomorrow morning.
Chapter 2
Jackson
If you had told me six months ago that I would be moving to a small town on the coast of Vancouver Island to try and become partner in a local vet clinic, I would have laughed in your face.
But that was before. Before my ex-fiancée decided to come clean about lying to me for five years. Before my former boss at the animal shelter was caught embezzling funds that should have gone to the animals we were caring for. Before my life imploded and I needed to get away from it all.
Truthfully, just one of those two situations would have been enough to make me want a fresh start. But together, they spelled disaster if I stayed in the city. So when I saw the posting for a small clinic in Dogwood Cove that read future partnership opportunities available I applied. And here I am, sitting in a motel room with my cat Harley curled up on the bed, scrolling through house rental listings.
When I look at my watch and see I’ve got two hours before my meeting with Doctor Morton at the Dogwood Cove Veterinary Clinic, I decide to go and get some breakfast. The bakery I walked into the first morning I was here comes to mind. More specifically, the woman behind the counter who tried to convince me to order some crazy scone or something. I feel a slight frown furrow my brow, remembering the look of disappointment that crossed her face when I declined, choosing my standard breakfast instead. Ten years of a protein shake first thing, and a bran muffin with black coffee after a workout is a hard habit to break, and I wasn’t about to do so on my first day in a new town. Too much change is never a good thing.
I pull a pale blue pinstripe shirt out of the closet and put it on over my bare chest. Harley lifts his head to fix me with his yellow-eyed stare. “I have to go to work now. We’ll find a house soon with a sunny spot for you.” A scratch to his head, and a shake of my own for talking to my cat, and I’m out the door.
The nice thing about this town is how close everything is in the downtown area. The motel is a five-minute drive from the bakery and the vet clinic is just down the street. I could walk, but it’s a warm June day and I don’t want to be sweaty when I get to the clinic. Doctor Morton asked me to come in early today to finish our discussion about my goals and plans, which I hope will include more details about the partnership opportunities he lured me here with.
Pushing open the door to The Nutty Muffin bakery, I am assaulted by the aroma of fresh baked goods and coffee. Even I can admit it’s a tempting combo. I wait in line, and when it’s my turn, I place my order, trying not to be too obvious about looking around for the woman from yesterday. Not that I have any interest in pursuing something; dating is the last thing on my mind right now. But any man could see she was gorgeous in that classy girl next door kind of way. Long brown hair tied back in a braid, curves in all the right places, and a warm and inviting smile. The exact opposite of my ex, Stefani, who embodied the ice queen look from her platinum hair and willowy figure to her cool blue eyes.
I take my coffee and muffin and climb back into my car. A few short minutes later and I’m parked outside the clinic, where I quickly eat the muffin, which I have to admit is a lot better than any other bran muffin I’ve ever tasted. Once I’ve checked my shirt for crumbs, I get out, grab my coffee and my satchel, and head inside. I give a nod in greeting to the vet tech and receptionist as I head to the back-office area, where I deposit my bag and grab a set of scrubs to change into. If I remember correctly, I’ve got a dental cleaning and two neuter surgeries to do today, while Doctor Morton handles the regular appointments.
The man in question comes into the office just as I’m reviewing the chart for my first patient.
“Ah, good morning, Jackson. Lovely day, isn’t it?” He puts his bag down and claps a hand on my shoulder.
