Angel's Rest (2 page)

As the closest thing this county of 827 permanent residents had to a medical doctor since Doc Ellis died in August, Nic stitched up almost as many two-legged creatures as four-legged ones these days. While she was glad to help with minor injuries, Eternity was desperate for a doctor.

“Mrs. Hawkins is closing for supper?” Lori pursed her lips in surprise as she grabbed the bottle of disinfectant from the supply closet. “Wow. She never does that. I knew this meeting tonight was a big deal, but … wow.”

“It’s an important announcement. Eternity Springs needs a miracle.”

Lori wrinkled her nose and squirted lemon-scented spray on the exam table. “I don’t think building a prison in town qualifies as a miracle.”

“I can’t honestly say I’m thrilled at the prospect myself, but it would bring jobs to town and boost our permanent population. The town needs that if we’re going to survive.”

“Tell me about it.” Lori tore a handful of paper towels from a roll and went to work. “Even if they’re not going on to college, everyone leaves town after high school graduation because the only work here is summer work. Mom says it wasn’t like that when you were my age. I want to go away to college and vet school, but I also want to be able to come back home to live after I graduate. I love Eternity Springs.”

“I hear you.” Nic had fallen in love with the tiny mountain town when she and her mom moved here to be close to Mom’s sister and her husband. Nic’s jerk of a father—her mom’s married lover—had finally cut all ties with his mistress and their daughter. Nic had been nine years old and devastated, and the place and its people had given her a hug and a home. Years later when her marriage fell apart, she could have gone anywhere to rebuild, but this mountain valley had called to her soul. She’d spent a year at a clinic in Alamosa to reacquaint herself with large-animal veterinary medicine, and then finally she’d come home. She’d renovated her late uncle’s dental office into a vet clinic and scraped by.

Nic loved Eternity just as it was, but she recognized that her hometown wouldn’t thrive and perhaps not even survive if the local leaders didn’t succeed in bringing in some sort of new industry. New jobs meant new residents, which would be good for everyone. A new prison would definitely bring that doctor they needed so desperately to town. If Mayor Hank Townsend relayed a thumbs-up on the prison tonight, she could at least look forward to having that particular burden shifted off her shoulders.

“I don’t want to live anywhere else, Lori,” she told her
young assistant. “If building a prison in the valley means we get to stay here, then I’ll help clear the land for it myself.”

Lori sighed dramatically, reminding Nic of the teenager’s mother at the same age. Those two were so much alike it was scary.

“You’re right. I see that.” Lori’s expression clouded with worry as she met Nic’s gaze. “But I love Eternity Springs as it is. What if we do get the prison and it changes us?”

Nic’s stomach gave a little twist at the thought, but experience had taught her how to answer Lori’s question. “Change happens whether we like it or not. The trick is to accept it, to make it work for us as best we can. Who knows? Maybe it’ll bring that man your mom’s been waiting for to town.”

Lori rolled her eyes. “Great. I’ve always wanted a criminal for a stepdad.”

“I was thinking more of a tall, dark, and handsome contractor.” She waggled her brows and added, “Who wears a tool belt. Sarah has always had a thing for tool belts.”

“Dr. Nic, puh-lease! That’s my mom you’re talking about. Besides, we already have a handful of contractors in town. I can’t say I’m impressed.”

Nic laughed and carried the trash bag outside, where sometime in the ten minutes since young Beth had left with her Mamey a light snowfall had begun. Years of experience told Nic the flurries wouldn’t stick, but this did represent the first snowfall of the season. Winter was bearing down upon Eternity, and Nic recognized the fact with dismay.

Once upon a time, winter had been her favorite season. Cold weather invigorated her. She loved the holidays, winter sports, and cozy nights snuggling in front of a fire with the man she loved. But a series of really
awful winters had all but ruined the season for her. First she’d found her husband in bed with another woman two weeks before Christmas. Then a stroke took her beloved uncle David the following November. The next winter, the financial fallout from an ugly, prolonged divorce took its toll, and Nic was forced her to sell her share of her Colorado Springs vet practice. Then, on New Year’s Eve of her first winter back in Eternity Springs, her mom and her aunt had dropped the bombshell that they’d bought a condo in Florida and moving day was two weeks away. Now Nic couldn’t feel the sting of a snowflake on her cheek without mourning all that she’d lost.

And wondering what losses the coming winter would bring.

Attempting to ward off the melancholy that threatened, she exhaled a cleansing breath and hauled the trash bag outside to the waste cans, which she then rolled out to the street for tomorrow morning’s pickup. When she was halfway back to the clinic, an unfamiliar red Jeep Wrangler skidded to a stop at the curb. Nic’s steps slowed as a bedraggled stranger climbed out of the vehicle. He was tall, broad, and trim with dark hair overdue for a cut and a square jaw that needed a shave even worse. He reached into the backseat to reappear with an armful of struggling dog—a skinny brindle boxer whose left hind leg appeared to be bleeding badly.

Nic picked up her step. “Lori? Emergency patient coming.” To the man, she called, “Bring him here.”

The stranger followed Nic into the clinic. Lori took one look and then set about preparing the supply tray Nic would need. The stranger placed the boxer on the exam table Nic indicated and held him in place.

“What happened?” she asked.

Concern shadowed his whiskey-brown eyes. “A damned leghold trap.”

“He’s your dog?”

He shook his head. “No. He’s probably a stray. Our paths crossed a few days ago while I was hiking the backcountry, but he didn’t hang around or follow me home. When I was hiking on Murphy Mountain today I heard something howling in pain, so I tracked the sound and found him caught in the trap.”

“You poor baby,” she murmured to the dog.

“We tussled a bit when I tried to free him. I’m afraid I made his injuries worse.”

Nic sedated the suffering animal and made a cursory examination. Lacerations, trauma where he’d chewed himself. Broken teeth. She studied the bone. “Not fractured, believe it or not. Significant muscle damage, but I think we can save the leg.”

With that pronouncement, Nic focused on her patient and went to work.

Gabe breathed a little easier when he saw the competent, methodical manner in which the vet acted. Dr. Nicole Sullivan of Eternity Springs Veterinary Clinic—according to the sign beside the door—obviously knew what she was doing. He could leave with a clear conscience.

Instead, Gabe stayed right where he was, watching the woman work.

One minute stretched to five, then to ten. She had good hands—long, narrow fingers that moved with a surety of purpose. Straight white teeth tugged at a full lower lip when she tied off sutures. He judged her to be younger than he was, but not by a lot. Early thirties, he’d guess. She was petite but shapely, fair-skinned with a dusting of freckles across her nose. She wore her blond hair long and pulled back in a ponytail; plain gold studs were in her ears. He saw no rings on her fingers beneath the latex gloves.

She spoke in a quiet, confident voice as she explained her actions to the teenager. A teacher with her apprentice, he thought. She was good at it, too. Gentle and warm, her tone soothing and compassionate. A healer.

Gabe didn’t belong here. He should leave.

Only he didn’t want to leave.

“So where did you come from, boy?” the vet asked the unconscious dog as she frowned over something on his belly. “He’s little more than a puppy. Judging by his body weight and the state of his coat, he’s probably been out in the wild for a while.”

“Think he could have been abandoned at birth?” the teenager asked. “No collar on him, and I’ve never seen a boxer his age who still has his tail. This one is crooked, too. If he had an owner, you’d think they’d have docked his tail.”

“It’s a cute tail,” the vet declared. “Gives him character.”

Gabe tugged a worn leather dog collar from his back pocket. “Here. I have his collar. It came loose while I was trying to free him from the trap.”

He handed the collar to the teenager, who checked its heart-shaped metal tag. “Rabies vaccine is current from a clinic in Oklahoma. Bet he belonged to summer tourists and got lost from his family.”

“I don’t recall any lost dog notices for a boxer,” the vet said. “We’ll make some calls. He could have traveled a long way.” She glanced up at Gabe. “Where did you find him?”

“Murphy Mountain.”

Surprise lit the vet’s pretty blue eyes. “That’s private property.”

“Not private enough, apparently. The owner didn’t set that trap.”

The teenager’s head jerked around. “How do you know? Are you a Davenport?”

“No.”

The girl waited expectantly, and when Gabe remained stubbornly silent, she tried again. “If you know the owner didn’t set the trap, then you must be a friend of the Davenports. That, or you’re just another trespasser.”

Gabe gave in. “Jack Davenport is a friend.”

The girl’s chin came up. “Then would you give him a message for me? Tell him that I’m looking for his cousin, Cameron Murphy.”

“Lori,” said the vet, a thread of steel beneath the warmth. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“Lori Elizabeth, no.”

A mutinous expression settled on the girl’s face, but she went silent. Gabe tried not to be interested in what that bit of drama had been about. Davenport business, obviously. Definitely none of his.

He needed to leave. Should have just dropped off the dog and hightailed it. Why had he hung around, anyway? That wasn’t like him.

The
beep beep
of a car horn sounded outside. “There’s your ride, Lori,” said the vet, lifting a gauze bandage roll from the supply tray. “Tell your mom I’ll see her at the school tonight, okay?”

The teenager hesitated and darted a glance at Gabe. “I could stay, Dr. Nic.”

“Thanks, sweetie, but you go on. I’m going to wrap this bandage and I’ll be done here.”

The girl didn’t like leaving the vet alone with a stranger, and Gabe couldn’t blame her. He should speak up. Say he was leaving, too. Instead, for some inexplicable reason, he kept his lips zipped.

Beep beep
. “Oh, all right.” The girl tugged off her gloves, then looked him straight in the eyes. “What was your name, mister?”

His lips twitched and he acknowledged her challenge with a nod. “Gabe Callahan.”

“I’ll tell Mom you won’t be long,” she said, shifting her gaze to the vet. On her way out the door, she paused and added, “By the way, I think Mom is having supper with Sheriff Turner.”

In the wake of the girl’s departure, Gabe shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and observed, “That was subtle.”

“We watch out for one another around here.” She quickly and efficiently wrapped the bandage, released the locks on the table where the dog lay, and rolled it toward a wall lined with crates. When she opened the door to a medium-sized wire box, Gabe stepped forward. “Let me help.”

“Thanks.”

Careful of the boxer’s injured leg, he slipped his hands beneath the dog’s torso and shifted him into the crate. When he stepped back, Dr. Nic was frowning at him. “What? Did I do it wrong? Did I hurt him?”

“Before, I was concentrating on the dog. I didn’t notice.” She gestured toward his chest. “That’s your blood, not his.”

Gabe glanced down at his shirt. “More his than mine, and my fault for being careless. He got me a time or two before I thought enough to use my shirt to wrap his head while I released him from the trap.”

“Why didn’t you use your coat?”

“Wasn’t mine.”

He watched her silently mouth a word that just might have been
idiot
. Gabe almost grinned.

“Scratches or bites?”

“Both.”

She sighed heavily. “Go sit on the table and take off your shirt.”

“There’s no need for that,” he said, uneasy over how appealing he found the idea.

“That dog’s been running wild. At the very least you need the wounds flushed and examined.” She pointed toward the table.

He hesitated, and she scowled at him. “Now.”

Gabe gave in to both their desires. He tugged off his shirt and it wasn’t until he heard her shocked gasp that he realized just what he’d done. The scars had been a part of him for so long now that he forgot he even had them. He unconsciously straightened, bracing himself against the barrage of questions sure to come. Questions he had no intention of answering. That part of his life was a closed book.

The pretty veterinarian surprised him. But for that one betraying inhalation, her professionalism never slipped. Maybe her gaze was a bit softer, her touch as gentle as the snowfall, but she never once recoiled or eyed him with pity. Gradually Gabe relaxed. For a few stolen moments he allowed himself to pleasure in the sensation of human touch upon his skin.

“I’ll quarantine the boxer,” she said. “You should drive into Gunnison and see Dr. Hander at the medical clinic. He’ll put you on prophylactic antibiotics. When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Last year.”

“Good.”

Next she ran through a series of basic questions about his medical history, and then asked him to lie on his back. “Your legs will hang off the table, I’m afraid, but this way will keep your pants dry.”

His jeans had been wet since he wrestled with the dog, but he kept that detail to himself and studied her through half-closed eyes as she prepared to bathe his wounds with saline. Her beauty was the wholesome, girl-next-door type. He figured the lack of a ring on her
finger was due to work-related safety factors rather than marital status. Bet she was married with a couple of kids.

Pain sliced through him as she applied the solution, and Gabe sucked in a breath.