* * *
“Lyme disease, you’re sure?” Logan asked Dr. Charles. They’d been greeted in the waiting area of the vet clinic but had yet to see Gus. With the news, he couldn’t help but crane his neck around the receptionist at the front counter, hoping to see into the back exam area.
“Cases in Wyoming are pretty rare compared to many other states,” the doctor said, “but they do happen. We ran some tests to confirm.”
Abbie squeezed his hand.
He had patted Gus down, looking for any hint of what might be wrong prior to taking him in. It just didn’t seem possible that he missed spotting a deer tick.
“Looks like he had a tick but someone didn’t get the whole thing pulled out.” Dr. Charles folded his arms. “It’s the bacteria in those pinchers that causes it.” He went on to explain a few more things, how long it’d likely been since Gus acquired the parasite and the treatment plan to follow.
“Itcanbe treated?” Abbie asked.
“Yes, it’s early enough that I think some antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory should do the trick.” The doctor explained what treatment at home would require, and that Gus would be more susceptible in the future.
At the mention of thirty days, Logan’s eyes widened. “He needs medication for an entire month?” He couldn’t fathom his grandpa giving Gus medication twice a day for a week, much less a whole month. Not with the hours he was working and his general disinterest in getting Gus to the vet in the first place.
Abbie’s hand came to rest on his arm, and she stepped closer to him. The intoxicating scent of her honey shampoo hit him then. “I can help take care of him. Gus can stay with me if it comes to that.”
He met her eyes and lost himself in such gentle compassion. This woman was always meant to be his wife. He stole a look at her bare left hand and frowned. What would it take to make her see they could work this out?
“We’ll figure it out,” he finally said to the doctor.
“Between the two of us, we can work something out.”
He could finish out the season, traveling to as many events as it took to draw Tornado and hopefully win that title before the bull was retired at the end of the year. If he was ending this chapter of his life, he wanted to leave it on a high note. His dad would be prouder of him taking that shot at the title rather than quitting earlier since he was so close.
“Due to his age, Gus needs someone to keep a close eye on him overnight to ensure he doesn’t have any negative reactions to the medication,” Dr. Charles added.
Abbie could come to watch him compete at some events, and be waiting for him at home when others concluded.
“No problem,” Abbie answered. “I’ll watch him.”
Tonight was round one, and he’d been counting on Abbie to attend the event with him. Didn’t even care if the media snapped some pictures of the two of them. But without an interview as leverage and Gus requiring constant attention, he was out of ideas. “Are you sure, Abbs?”
“Of course.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes though, and that alone was cause for concern. “Your grandpa doesn’t have the time, and Cliff and Erin won’t mind a second dog in the guest cottage if it’s for a good cause.”
“I guess it’s settled, then,” he said. “Can we see Gus now?”
* * *
Gibbs didn’t quite know what to make of the new house guest. Logan watched him pace around the couch a couple of times, undoubtedly wondering why another dog was in his off-limits spot. “You sure you don’t mind Gus on the couch? He’s kind of an outdoor dog.”Dirty and dusty.
“He’s fine. There’re plenty of old blankets down.”
Gus was livelier than he’d been since Logan first saw him, but the medication added a layer of drowsiness. He sat along the edge of the couch, gently stroking his dog as Gus dozed in and out of sleep. He’d listened to the dreaded voicemail as Abbie drove them back to her cottage, but Grandpa didn’t have much to say other than he had no intention of paying for some expensive surgery. But his voice cracked near the end, leaving Logan to believe his grandpa cared a great deal about the dog.
Grandpa had tried to remove the tick. Probably thought he got the whole thing, too. He didn’t look forward to telling him the botched result of his good intentions, but it’d have to wait yet again because when he returned his call, he found the voicemail box still full.
“I know you’re riding tonight”—a hand dropped on his shoulder and he let his gaze travel to those chocolatey eyes—“but someone has to watch Gus. It can’t be you, so it has to be me.” Neither needed to mention Grandpa, who’d be working a late shift at the cement factory. Though Gerald hadn’t been forthcoming about his two-job schedule, Abbie had managed to ferret out the details through connections she’d made.
Despite his disappointment, he felt hopeful too. They seemed to be working as a team again. He’d missed this more than anything, how effortlessly they worked together. “I was thinking, Abbs.”
“Never a good sign.” A twinkle danced in her eyes, and she sat beside him nice and close. She wrapped her arms around his free one, her head resting on his shoulder. Her honey shampoo blanketed him in an aromatic cloud. “Fire away.”
“Why don’t you finish that interview?”
She didn’t say anything right away. Seemed she had to process his words first. “Why? I’m not going to ask Vince to give me my job back. Everyone seems to think he’ll beg me to come back, but you don’t know my uncle. He’s stubborn. Prideful. Some days I think he’d rather let the paper sink than try anyone else’s idea that might help it thrive.”
