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a dog. Nope, not at all. Ever.
Keeping my gaze straight ahead, I turned off the dirt road that always snuck up on me. The clinic was a converted farm with a ton of land, but it was rather remote. A horse was grazing in the fenced off area to the side of the building, his ragged tail twitching happily. Maverick was a rescue from a shitty owner, and the vet, Grant Thorn, had nursed him back to health.
I knew that because when I’d nearly killed Dusty—since the stupid cat loved to lay in the middle of the damn road, and I’d clipped his tail swerving away so I didn’t kill him—the vet had been unloading the horse when I rolled up in a panic. Now I was the proud owner of a cat with a slightly crooked tail, and it looked like Maverick was living his best life.
I downshifted to gently roll over the tire ruts from the last good rain. Dirt became gravel the closer we got to the large horse stables. A little girl with a lopsided ponytail was chasing a tripod dog around the opening of one of the bays.
Someone must have been looking out for us since there were only a handful of cars in the parking lot. I parked and the little girl came running over to us.
Penny? P…something.
“Hey, Miss Dusty. Everything okay with your cat?”
Lucky stepped down from the truck.
Priscilla? No…she was a flower name. Poppy! “Hi, Poppy. Dusty is doing really well, but my friend’s dog not so much.”
“Oh, no.” Her huge eyes glittered with tears immediately. She rushed to Lucky, showing absolutely no fear toward the six-foot-four long-haired stranger.
I should probably talk to her dad about that.
Lucky crouched down to the kid’s level. “Are you the vet?”
The little girl’s tears dissolved away with a giggle. “No. I’m not big enough yet. Someday though. I’m gonna be just like my daddy.”
“I’m sure he’ll be proud. Think you could find your dad for me? My friend here could use some help.” Butch peeked out from the side of his shirt, the end of the rusty red rope frayed from Lucky’s knife.
“Oh, no.” Poppy’s eyes went fierce. “You didn’t tie his mouth shut, did you? We don’t use those kinds of muzzles, sir!”
“No. Not at all. We found him like this. It looks really painful though. We want to get him all fixed up.”
I resisted the urge to rub my chest. My heart was doing funny twirls and I really didn’t like it.
“I’ll go get my daddy. He’s having a tuna sammich, but I’m sure he’ll stop his lunch for your doggie.” She tipped her head and lifted a corner of the towel snaking out of Lucky’s shirt. “Is that Harry Styles?”
“Harry is taking good care of Butch, yes.”
Poppy giggled. “You’re funny. Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Lucky glanced up at me. “Cute kid.”
I swallowed. “Yeah, she is.” I cleared my throat. “Anyway, let’s go in. Dr. Thorn is a bit different, but he’s a damn good vet.”
“Hot too, right?”
I flushed and stalked past him. “Yeah, well, I have eyes. It was just an observation.”
A huge white sign hung next to the black door. Thorny Paw Clinic was open rain or shine, day or night. It had a few block sliders to say which vet or vets were on the premises. I was relieved to see Grant’s name there.
It was a rotating roster, but I knew Grant Thorn did good work. I opened the door for Lucky and resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the guy behind the desk.
Snooty Steve was manning the desk today. Great.
“Hi, we have an emergency.”
He didn’t even look up when we walked in. “Everyone has an emergency. We’re a clinic.”
I curled my fingers into my palm, hiding it beneath the half wall that divided the small vestibule.
