“What might that be?”
“It’s early, but my guess would be minor excision and, if it hasn’t spread, cryotherapy. I’ve handled worse.” His smile softened. “If it’s caught early, it’s treatable. Especially if it hasn’t spread into the orbit. Not a complicated treatment, but the sooner the better.”
Elise let out a breath. “Then she came to the right place.”
The ewe gave a low, wavering bleat, as if agreeing. Wade chuckled, resting a palm against her shoulder. “What’s her name?”
Elise shook her head. “The farmer didn’t say, but he did comment that she’d been in shambles for a while, whatever that means.”
Wade’s eyes warmed as he looked at the animal. “All right then, Shambles.” He patted her again. “Let’s see if we can put your life, and eye, back together again.”
“Shambles?” She laughed. “I love it.”
He turned to smile at Elise. Crouched down as he was, he had to look up at her. Their gazes met, the air thick with straw dust and the faint rhythm of the ewe’s breathing. For a heartbeat or two, neither of them moved.
Finally, Wade straightened. “Let me know what I can do to help. I have some research papers on the problem I can forward to you and I’m happy to look at the biopsy results. Not that I want to push myself on this institute.”
“I, for one, would love the outside opinion,” she said. “I’m such a novice and this sheep is my responsibility at the moment.” She leaned in as the light caught the ewe’s face just so—one bright eye clear and watchful, the other shadowed but open. “You definitely have something going on, Shambles.” She reached out and put her hand on the animal’s head.
“She’s going to be just fine with the right treatment, Elise. I promise.”
“Oh, there’s the good news,” she whispered to the sheep. “This handsome oncologist is going to fix you right up.”
He chuckled. “Handsome?”
“Well, if she can’t see real well at the moment…” Biting her lip, she squinted up at him. “I thought she should know the doctor’s cute.”
His mouth slid into a slow smile, then he leaned over and whispered into the sheep’s ear. “Did you hear that, Shambles? She thinks I’m cute. Think she’ll let me help with this Nativity thing? I’m kind of itching to get involved.”
Her heart did a little dance, but she managed a casual shrug. “We might need an extra Wise Man.”
“I can do gold, frankincense, myrrh, or penicillin. Just lead me to the manger.”
She laughed, adoring his attitude. “Let’s go out to the pen and meet the rest of the gang.”
They stepped—or rather, rolled and walked—outside to the largest pen, where the stocky donkey watched and chewed, his ears flicking lazily.
Elise gestured. “That’s Eeyore, our headliner who brings a very pregnant Mary into the stable. He knows his role is underappreciated.”
“Not by Mary,” he cracked.
The donkey brayed, earning a chuckle from Wade.
He crouched down near the fence, watching two more goats nose each other for the best pile of hay. “They look happy.”
“They are,” she said softly. “It’s kind of amazing, actually. No matter what they’ve been through, animals just—move on. They heal faster than we do.”
“They do in the right hands,” he said. “Which I can already tell you have.”
“You can?” The compliment felt so good. “Thank you. But the real hero here is you, who figured out what was going on with that sheep’s eye.”
He gave a humble shrug. “Not that impressive when you consider I just finished years of oncology training. But taking on vet school, residency, and the big Christmas program? That’s impressive.”
Because she was in a wheelchair…or just because?
She didn’t know and right that moment? She didn’t care.
After checking all the animals, they wandered back out to the quad. The air outside had shifted, the clouds tinted pink and lavender against the snowy peaks.
