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“Are you qualified?”
Classic Dad. He knows I’m qualified. This is about something else. Again, his words hurt.
“I’ve had almost a year of veterinary school and all the time I worked at the animal hospital in town during high school,” I remind him.
“That was a long time ago, sweetheart,” Mom says cautiously. She’s worried for me, but all her sentiment does is remind me of what I missed out on. How far behind I am. What I lost.
Five years to be exact, but—
Dad slams his phone down on the table. “The answer is no. Fuck, no.”
Mom gasps. “Rick. Watch your language.”
“There are enough ranches in the area for you to work on. You don’t have to work for the Bridgers.”
I frown. “What’s wrong with them? The head vet over at Bridger ranch thinks I can do the job as well as any vet tech.”
I sigh, eyeing my father closely. I don’t know what his deal is. It’s one thing to worry about me and smother me by the day, but he’s acting as if he doesn’t like the Bridgers specifically. I thought they wanted me to return to my life. To be normal again.
“Besides, Dr. Lake thinks I’m ready. More importantly, I think I am.”
God, am I. I need to get out of this house. I love my parents, but I’m twenty-seven years old, and they treat me like…
Well, like I could disappear at any moment…which I did five years ago.
Through no fault of my own, of course. At least that’s what Dr. Lake has tried to convince me during the last year of therapy. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time—having lunch at Millie’s Diner while home from vet school on spring break. Something as simple as that, in a small town in Montana, and my life changed forever.
I’ve only eaten at Millie’s about a thousand times in my life, but why did I have to go that day?
That particular damned day…
No. Not going there. Not right now. I need to be whole today to begin this new venture.
Ernie, our golden retriever, swishes around my legs, yellow fur sticking to my jeans. I love this hound, but man, he can shed.
“Hey, Ernie.” I ruffle his soft ears.
He’s older now with a white muzzle. The years aged him, too.He smiles at me. Yeah, dogs can smile. I know they don’t possess the requisite musculature, but I’m not convinced.
Ernie smiles. He doesn’t care that I’ve got a job with the Bridgers.
And his panting smile always makes me grin—inside and out—even after the worst nightmares.
I’ve learned to live with them, and they’re much less frequent than they used to be. I’m down to therapy only once a month now, and Dr. Lake says I’m ready to take the next step—a job—in returning to real life.
No, I have been living real life. Too real. But I have to look forward, not back.
Mom and Dad, on the other hand, aren’t on board.
Especially Mom.
I get it. I do. She loves me, and she’s fearful of losing me again. For those three years I was gone, they had to let me go. They had to believe I was gone forever and that I was never coming back.
They had a funeral, for God’s sake…and then, three years later, Derek Wolfe was murdered and the other women and I were all rescued from that horrid island where we were held prisoners and hunted, tortured, violated by anyone who could pay to play.
Garnet, Moonstone, Tiger Eye, Opal, Amethyst, Sapphire… All of them.
And me.
