Which is why I prefer to be around animals instead of people now; though, to be fair, I always knew there was something special about them.
The way they don’t judge.
Their eagerness to forgive.
Their ability to heal…not just themselves but our souls.
All of my siblings like to heckle me about how I surround myself with pets, not people. But if they’d learn to just shut up and listen to what the animals were trying to tell us, they’d understand it too.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Harris,” Kim says with a wave, slowly getting off the porch swing. She’s moving slower than normal today, with dark bags under her eyes that seem to get worse every time I see her, making me wonder if she’s not in remission as she told me a few months ago. “Busy day?”
“Isn’t it always?” I reply and walk halfway up the sidewalk, waiting for Kim to join us so I can hand her the latte. “How’s he doing today?” I ask, knowing Kim knows exactly which horse I’m referring to.
Her gray eyes get misty and she slowly inhales. “Let’s go find out.”
“Finally,” Mason huffs dramatically when I step into the house. He’s sitting at the kitchen counter next to Sam and our brother-in-law, Dean.
“Hello to you too,” I retort dryly. Mason always gave our sister shit for being dramatic, but he’s the worst of us all.
“Mom wouldn’t let us eat until you got here.”
Eyeballing the bowl of chips and salsa on the counter, I feel little pity for my brothers. I kick off my shoes, leave them by the back door, and cross the room. I’m late, no surprise there, but I did make it home in time to change. Really, I had no choice since the last farm call resulted in both Crystal and I getting splattered with blood.
“Looks like you survived.” Going around the counter, I eye Sam and smile. “I can finally say congrats in person. And heckle you for taking fucking forever to propose.”
Sam chuckles and gets up, pulling me in for a one-armed hug. “Yeah. Only a few decades, right?”
“And in those decades, Rory has planned a dozen weddings for you,” Dean laughs. “She’s planning a Dungeons and Dragons themed one right now.”
“That sounds like something Chloe would like,” I say and pull out a barstool so I can join my brothers.
Sam looks out the window behind us, gazing at his fiancée with a smile on his face. Chloe is outside with our parents, chatting with Rory as Adam, Rory and Dean’s one-year-old son, plays in the yard.
“It does,” he says and flicks his eyes to Dean. “Brace yourself for her disappointment. We’re leaning toward something small without announcing the date to anyone but family.”
“Give Rory a fake date then,” Mason quips, sliding a beer over to me. “One months ahead of when you actually want to get married.”
Sam lets out a snort of laughter. “That’s not a bad idea. This whole being famous by association is fucking weird,” he admits. Chloe is a bestselling author with a very successful TV show based off of her series and has a huge fanbase. “Anyway, how’s work?”
“Busy as ever,” I reply and pop the top off my beer. Being one of the only vets in the area, I don’t drink often since I’m basically always on-call. “Horses are sensitive to the change in weather so I’ve been doing a lot of farm calls.”
“Have you hired anyone new yet?” Dean asks.
“I have a few interviews next week. I’m hoping for someone halfway decent at this point to take over my small animal clients so I can focus on large animals.”
“We know how you like those large animals,” Mason mumbles and I just roll my eyes, being used to his lame beastiality jokes by now. Sam’s a doctor, Rory is a nurse, and I’m a vet, making Mason—an FBI agent—the only one out of the four of us who didn’t go into the medical field. Naturally, we give him hell for it.
Finally noticing that I’m here, Mom waves, and I go outside to say hi to them. Chloe and Rory are sitting in the grass, petting two barn cats that wandered up to the house in hopes of being fed scraps of food. I give my mom and sister hugs and then pick up my nephew, who’s been busy bringing my mom handfuls of grass.
“Hey, Jacob!” Chloe greets me cheerfully. “How’s the gelding? I’m almost scared to ask.”
“He’s the sickest horse I’ve treated yet, but he’s fighting,” I tell her, stopping at the edge of the patio. “Congrats on your engagement.”
“Thanks,” she says with a smile. “But he’s going to make it?”
Dad laughs at Chloe being more concerned with the horse than her upcoming wedding.
“Honestly, I can’t make that call yet. Being starved takes a toll on internal organs and he’s battling pneumonia. We have to take it one day at a time.” I let out a breath.