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Lucky came up behind me, his cedar scent with a side of dog curling around me followed by a wall of warmth. A cool fall day had nothing on his ability to pump out a disturbing level of heat from the furnace of his upper body. He wasn’t even wearing a coat, for God’s sake.
“I have a hurt dog we found tied to a bush. It’s an emergency.”
Steve’s gaze tracked up and his bored face cleared to attentive. “Right. Fill this out and I’ll go check with Dr. Thorn.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Lucky. “I had it.”
Butch peeked out from Lucky’s jacket, a little snaggle tooth peeking out from the dirt caked on him. Dammit, he was so sweet even with that damn rope around his face. I gently stroked his nose. “Dr. Thorn will fix you right up, buddy.”
Lucky angled down to look at me, his voice still rumbly. “I’ve never seen you so soft, Ruby.”
I frowned up at him. “Did you hurt your head?”
His eyebrow rose in question.
“Ruby?”
“Hair, racing stripe, helmet on your bike. Rich, dark ruby red.” His lids lowered to half mast over those dark green eyes of his. “Ruby.”
“Tish,” I reminded him.
“More of a Ruby to me.”
I didn’t have time for his nonsense. “Anyway, it’s a defenseless dog. I’m not an asshole.”
His lips kicked up at one corner, showing that slightly crooked incisor. He matched the dog. I refused to find that endearing. “I really like when you’re grumpy.”
“You’re weird.”
“The doctor will see you. Janice will show you to stall three.”
I stepped back and spun, almost taking Janice out. “Sorry.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “Which way?”
Janice blinked and took me in, then Lucky behind me. Being female and almost six feet tall was definitely not something I could forget. But it wasn’t often that a guy was taller than me to the extent Lucky was. The tech was barely over five feet tall. We probably looked like freakish giants—with a teacup-sized dog.
How was this my life?
Janice hugged the iPad against her chest. “Right. Um, this way, please.”
We headed past the waiting room as a few grumbling patients watched us walk by and down a hallway into the repurposed barn. Instead of horses, the large stalls were sectioned off with old sliding barn doors on glossy black rollers. Each door was a different color. A well used chalkboard hung from a nail in the center of each door and gave quick stats about the pet’s name and breed.
The first door was dark red with Larry the Macaw scrawled in chalk. The next was a whitewashed natural color with Baxter the Collie chilling inside, and the last one was navy with a blank chalkboard waiting for our details. Yellow caution signs signaled a freshly scrubbed cement floor. The sharp scent of bleach couldn’t quite cut the scent of many different animals even with the front and back of the barn open to give a cross-breeze. There was only so much the crisp fall day could do to clear the air with animals in various stages of fear or injury.
The yip of a dog followed by a chorus of responding canines echoed through the barn. The back of the clinic was also a bordering and adoption center. Grant had a big heart when it came to getting animals taken care of.
I might have donated a chunk of money to his vet practice. It was a good write-off for the business, and did I mention I was a sucker for animals?
Poppy came ripping around the corner. Her ponytail was a tad higher, but that was probably more out of annoyance than from help from a brush. Dr. Thorn brought up the rear mostly because his daughter was dragging him along. His white lab coat flew behind him over his typical faded black thermal shirt, jeans, and sturdy boots.
The three times I’d been in for Dusty he’d been wearing something similar each time.
He gave us a harried smile. “Poppy tells me we have a special case. Nice to see you again, Tish.” The lilt of Ireland teased like the breeze. There, but not at the same time.
“I wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Me too.”
Lucky stiffened behind me. I wasn’t sure if that was his little growl or one of the dogs in the kennel. Considering the sound seemed awfully close, I chose to go with ignorance.
