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Chapter 1
Undulating waves of torrential rain poured over Zander’s head as he knelt beside the wounded red fox. Early June in the oceanside town of Half Moon Bay meant plenty of spring rain. Situated on the west coast, smack dab between Canada and the United States, the Bay was technically an American town but many of her residents were Canadian.
He loved his hybrid Canadian American hometown. He was living the dream. He had his ideal veterinary practice and was minutes away from his mother if she needed anything. That was a mixed blessing. Seeing her regularly was great, but lately his mom and her friends had taken to setting him up with every single woman in town.
Today was another example of her desire to find him a wife. He was on his way home from the world’s most awkward date with Mrs. Patterson’s daughter, Julia. Lovely girl, but they had nothing in common. He wasn’t surprised when she thanked him after their date and honestly told him she felt they hadn’t clicked.
What he needed was a way to avoid dating. All these setups were taking too much time out of his already busy life. Never mind the money it cost to wine and dine an endless string of women. It wasn’t in him to go on a date and not pay. Dutch was the best he could do and after eleven dates this month alone, he and his bank account were starting to dread another one.
He turned his attention back to the animal alongside the road. The fox’s belly was swollen with pregnancy. Her hind leg was bent at an unusual angle, with the bone visible through a tear in her hide. The coppery tang of blood hit his nose and tastebuds. She’d bled a lot. Probably more than he could tell in this downpour.
Cars roared past, their headlights providing flashes of illumination that almost made his examination harder. Consistent dim light was easier to work in than having his eyes adjust to random bright and dark.
She growled low in her throat but didn’t snap at him as he reached toward her. He was risking a bite and potentially rabies if she nipped him, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t leave her here to die alongside the road.
“Hey, girl. You look like you’re in a bad way.” He inched closer. “I’m Dr.Bellamie. Call me Zander, I’m a vet. I look after animals.” He placed his hand on her side. Her heart raced and she growled again but didn’t nip at him. He couldn’t help smiling. Sometimes he swore animals knew his intentions. In veterinary school, he easily treated animals his fellow students couldn’t get close to.
Even as a kid, he’d been able to catch injured wildlife without harm. His grandmother always said he had an affinity for animals, and that they knew they were safe with him. Her words sounded like superstitious nonsense, but on days like today, he hoped she was right.
Dark was falling fast. He stood to return to his truck to prep a sedative from supplies he kept in the medical bag he carried everywhere. The fox whined and he told her it would be okay. “I’ll get you off this busy road and to the clinic where I can fix that leg.”
With his hand back on her side, he flipped the cap off the needle. The poor animal was so weak she didn’t even flinch when he punctured her skin. “That’s my girl,” he crooned as he pressed the plunger. “It’s going to be okay.”
He sprinted to his truck and grabbed a low-sided cardboard box from his chrome storage bin. Careful not to jostle her more than necessary, he slid her into the box and placed it on the floor of the truck. He blasted the heat to warm her. Even unconscious, she shivered from the drenching she’d received. He didn’t bother to change into the dry clothing he kept in the back. Getting her to the clinic to determine the extent of her injuries and whether or not he could save her, and her kits was priority one. It was late in the year for whelping. With luck she’d survive birthing on top of her trauma.
King, his black lab, who had been waiting on the passenger seat, leaned over the box and sniffed the fox.
“Leave her alone.” Zander chided gently. King immediately lay down on the front seat without taking his eyes off the fox.
He loved healing animals. Other people’s pets were his life, but this, standing strong in an emergency, was what fueled his blood. The fear of something going wrong, battling with the certainty that he could save an animal; the excitement and hope of alleviating an animal’s suffering. It didn’t matter if it were a dog or a cat, or even a horse. The harder the case, the more he loved it. He excelled in a crisis. Helping animals, and people, fed his soul. This was why he was a vet.
His phone connected to Bluetooth as soon as he started the engine. He pressed the dashboard screen and said, “Call Jenny’s cell phone.” The speaker repeated his words and in seconds her phone was ringing.
“What’s up boss? I was just about to tuck the kids in.”
“I’m headed to the clinic with an injured fox. Are you able to come in to assist?”
“Hang on.” Muffled voices said she must have covered the mouthpiece. “Yup, Todd will handle the rugrats. I’ll head over right way. I need the overtime” she teased.
“See you there.”
He had to drive through town and travel another five miles to his clinic on the northern outskirts of Half Moon Bay. The drive took an eternity and yet passed in seconds as he planned his diagnosis and treatment. Little Red, as he’d mentally dubbed the fox, would be a rehab case. If she survived, she’d be housed behind the clinic in one of his specially made runs until she was healed and had whelped and weaned her kits.
His rehab center currently housed a coyote, a white tail deer, and a snowy owl.
He pulled into the yard. The clinic lights blazed. Jenny had arrived before him. Excellent, she’d have things prepped for the exam. She was a darned good assistant. He stepped out of the truck and waited for King to hop down behind him. A rusty Toyota careened into the parking lot and screeched to a halt halfway into a stall.
Before he could react, a tall slender blonde leapt out of the car, slamming the door behind her hard enough that the car rocked. His brother’s chef raced toward him. She stumbled to a stop when she saw his dog.
“King, sit.” The massive dog dropped to his backside behind him.
“Zander! Help! I don’t know what to do.” Her voice shook with panic. She jerked forward in her haste to reach him, nearly falling.
He grasped her arms and held her upright until she regained her balance. “Take a deep breath, Heather. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Rain pelted down in thick gray sheets, but her arms were warm under his hands. Her eyes darted to the car and back to his face. She was seriously freaked out. Heather Olsen was usually the epitome of calm rationality. She ran her kitchen with a strong, understanding hand, and never got upset.
He’d admired her looks from the day they met at the grand opening of his brother’s small inn. Since then, they’d shared an occasional conversation, and his admiration turned to respect and attraction. Her self-control, her generosity, and her smile were enticing. She was always happy, yet if you looked deep enough, it seemed a façade to cover something not quite so perfect. Her mouth smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Today that smile was replaced by naked fear.
