The same grand hotel stood across from what would have been the saloon, just as it had over a hundred years ago. But the saloon was now a soda shop, catering to tourists who traveled this far to visit the fort and observatory a few miles out of town. Fort Kyle was a pretty little town with an interesting history and just enough events and special happenings to make it worth the visit.
“Maybe we can get some ice cream,” he said to Pearl.
Pearl waved at him in the rearview mirror, the offer of ice cream causing no further reaction.
“Too young for ice cream?” he asked. He hated not knowing. “Might have to see if we can find a book on...raising a toddler?”
She clapped her hands then, her feet bouncing.
“The library might just work,” he said. “Might find you some books, too.”
“Da da,” she sang. “Da da da.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, turning at the fork in the road and driving the short distance to the library. “Except it’s closed on Sundays.” He shook his head. If he remembered correctly, most things were closed on Sundays in Fort Kyle.
He sighed and leaned back.
Two shops down was Fort Kyle’s veterinary clinic. Tandy’s truck sat out front. That’s why she was here—for a job. She had a life. He was undoubtedly a bump she’d rather avoid. He may have lain in bed thinking of all the things he wished he’d said and done differently when it came to Tandy Boone, but that didn’t mean she had. He had a lot more to figure out than just parenting. He had to figure out how to coexist with Tandy without wanting the impossible.
He blew out a slow breath and put the truck in Reverse. “We’ll come back for books. Let’s go see what they have at the grocery store. Sounds good, Pearl?”
Pearl nodded, still singing. “Da-mew-gee.” She paused. “Mew-sik, da-da-da-do-gee.”
Click shook his head. “All right, then, sounds like a plan.”
Chapter Nine
Tandy ran a hand over her face and slid the file back into the filing cabinet. Her first week working with James M. Edwards had been...exhausting. She’d predicted some hiccups, but this had surpassed her every expectation.
The man was deaf as a post, slower than a turtle, beyond rude and so old twice Tandy had thought he was dead, slumped over his desk. Charlene, the receptionist, had told her he needed at least two catnaps a day to keep his mind sharp. Tandy had had no answer for that.
But it was more than her employer. She’d stayed late every night this week, trying to make headway. The kennels were a mess. Dr. Edwards employed his two teenage grandsons to keep them up. T
hey weren’t. But chastising either one of them earned her snorts and eye rolls.
The technology... There wasn’t much. Charlene had a desktop that looked older than Tandy. The two in the office—one for her and one for Dr. Edwards—weren’t much better. She’d yet to see Dr. Edwards turn his on. There were no scanners, the printer clicked and groaned, and Charlene had left the fax machine off two of the five days they’d been open.
The filing system had almost sent Tandy packing. Apparently Dr. Edwards’s system consisted of putting folders in the drawers with no rhyme or reason. She’d flipped through, searching alphabetically, by species, then—still hopeful—by appointment date. So far, nothing was gelling. Which made pulling patient records damn difficult. When she had managed to find one of the four files she’d been looking for, Dr. Edwards’s abbreviations had been indecipherable.
When she’d asked what they meant, her patience had almost snapped.
“Dr. Edwards, can you tell me what these notes mean? This is for Frisky, Miss Francis’s tabby. She’s here for a checkup.” She waited, hoping he’d offer some insight.
“Miss Francis’s tabby?” He peered over the rim of his glasses and squinted. “Tabby, huh? She used to raise those damn fainting goats, she tell you that? Damndest thing to see. They get spooked and then fall over.” He chuckled. “Course, it’s not a highly useful trait when they have a run-in with a mountain lion, let me tell you.” He shook his head.
She stared at him, befuddled by the way his mind wandered.
He stared back, a frown forming on his well-lined face. “What are you waiting on?”
“I was wondering what this says—”
He threw his hands up and sat back. “With what I’m paying you, I figured you could read just fine.”
Her irritation mounted, but she shoved it down. “Well, Dr. Edwards, I still haven’t figured out your notations. So, if you’d take a look, I can take care of Frisky.”
He nodded. “Miss Francis’s tabby?”
“Yes,” she ground out. “She’s here for an exam.”