The white siding and big front windows, a little too clean for a building that saw blood and fear and fur on a daily basis, but it was the semblance of normal I was craving.
The bell rang above the door, and it took me back to my summer job working for Brooke’s dad; he’d be barking orders and trying to fill his day with anything but yappy dogs and cats.
“About time,” Brooke called from the back.
I shut the door behind me. “I’m ten minutes early.”
“Yeah, but it’s late for you,” she yelled back. “I was expecting you here twenty minutes ago.”
I smiled despite myself and walked toward the counter. That’s one thing that hadn’t changed: I was never late.
Brooke appeared from the hallway with a clipboard in one hand and a stethoscope slung loose around her neck. She had her hair twisted up, a pencil jammed through it like she’d done a hundred times. She looked the same, which in River’s Edge counted as a miracle.
She stopped in front of me and didn’t say anything for a second. Her eyes moved over my face, my shoulders, the way I was holding myself like my bones might crack if I relaxed.
“Are you ready for this? You don’t have to start yet,” she said, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to read my mind.
“I’m fine, and yes, I do need to start today. Sitting on the ranch isn’t going to get the bills paid.” Suddenly, the thoughtdawned on me that if Ray owed so many people money, there was a good chance he owed Brooke, too.
She stepped in and hugged me, quick and firm, her arms strong around my shoulders. She didn’t do the soft friend hug; it was the kind to let you know she wasn’t going to let you float away.
“He didn’t owe me anything,” she whispered before letting me go. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
“Same,” I managed.
“Good,” she replied briskly, like she’d heard enough sentiment for one decade. She shoved the clipboard at me. “Mrs. Calder’s the first appointment of the day. I have to get her done first, or she ruins everything I have planned. We’ll put her in exam two.
Mrs. Calder sat on the bench in the waiting room, her spaniel Rosie panting on her lap like the world was ending.
“Mrs. Calder, let’s get Rosie looked at,” I said, and the older woman looked up and gave a slight frown. Rosie’s tail thumped the bench when I approached, then she immediately tried to crawl into my arms.
“Hi, Rosie,” I murmured, scratching behind her ears.
Mrs. Calder leaned forward, eyes shining. “Look at you. Back working. Back in town, how are you, dear?”
“I’m good,” I said, snapping on gloves. Mrs. Calder patted my wrist anyway, like she didn’t believe me and didn’t want to embarrass me by saying so out loud.
“Your Uncle Ray always spoke so highly of you,” she said.
My throat tightened. “Let’s get Rosie’s booster done.”
Brooke tossed me a look that said, “ thank you for steering,” and we moved through the appointment. Rosie yelped like she’d been stabbed, then immediately tried to lick my face as if apologizing for the noise.
When Mrs. Calder left, the bell chimed again, and thewaiting room filled with a new set of voices. I heard my name in a murmur. Not loud. Not secret, either.
“Tessa Callahan’s back.”
“Brooke hired her.”
“Good for her.”
Good for her always sounded like a backhanded compliment.
Brooke shoved a new chart into my hand. “Next. Shepherd with a limp and an owner who’s convinced it’s cancer.”
The owner was a man in his fifties with weathered hands and a cap pulled low. He didn’t look at me at first. He watched Brooke like she was the only one who mattered, then his eyes flicked toward me and sharpened in recognition.
“You’re Ray’s niece,” he said.
