“Thank you,” she stammers, looking embarrassed. A slight flush comes to her face, highlighting the freckles that dot her cheeks. “I-I-I do that all the time.”
“Fall?” I ask, lips pulling into a half-smile.
“No.” She smiles back, shaking her head, and causing her ponytail to swish behind her. “Climb up shelves to reach things.” She flicks her gaze to the horse treats on the top shelf. There’s only one bag left and it’s the only kind of treats we offer our equine clients at the clinic, dammit. “I don’t suppose you could grab that for me?”
“Sure.” I easily reach the bag and hand it to her.
“Thanks.” She offers a small smile and then we both bend down at the same time to pick up the treats I dropped so I could catch her. She picks up the last bag of cat treats and stands back up, handing them to me.
“Thanks again,” she tells me, and I take a second to look at her—really look at her. Her brown hair is messily swept back from her pretty face and her denim shorts hug her body in all the right places. She’s wearing cowboy boots, and if it wasn’t for the dirt on them, I might think she’s one of those women who likes to dress “country” even though they’ve never set foot in a barn. The fact that she’s buying horse treats says enough on its own as well.
“Don’t mention it,” I tell her and feel the strangest urge to keep talking to this clumsy woman. Then I remember I’m already running late for my next appointment. “Next time get a step stool.”
She shakes her head, letting out a small laugh. “Noted. Really, thanks.”
“Of course.”
Our gaze lingers for another moment and then I continue on, grabbing another brand of treats so I can go and checkout and then rush to my next appointment. Crystal is already on her way and will get to the Henderson’s farm before I do. They live in the next town over and it’ll be about a forty-minute drive before I’m even there. The Hendersons are a nice family with six horses and are the type of people you want to work with, so I don’t mind the drive. Today’s visit is a routine checkup on their pregnant mare as well as doing hock injections on two of their horses who need them to stay comfortable.
Sam texts me as I’m getting into my truck, asking if I want to go out to dinner with everyone tonight. “Everyone” means him, Chloe, Rory, and Dean. Not wanting to be the fifth wheel, I’m almost happy to use work as an excuse. Though a nice meal from one of the few upscale restaurants around here does sound nice.
Me: Won’t make it. About to head out to a farm in Hillford
Sam: You’re going all the way to Hillford? That’s like an hour from here.
Me: I’m aware. I have a few clients there.
Sam: You really need to hire someone else.
Me: Trust me, I know.
Sam: If you get back in time, join us for a bonfire and drinks at Chloe’s dad’s tonight.
Me: I’ll see how the night goes.
Sighing, I plug in my phone and start the long drive to Hillford.
“Looks good,” I tell Henry, a teenager who works at the clinic on the weekends. He does everything from cleaning empty cages to walking dogs that are here overnight. It’s the grunt work none of us want to do, but it’s necessary, and working at a veterinary clinic will look good on his resumé.
“Thanks,” Henry replies, taking off his rubber gloves. “That smell is still lingering.” He eyes the row of small kennels he just cleaned.
“Yeah, it will for a while. I will say you get used to it, though I don’t know if that’s necessarily a good thing.”
He makes a face and then shrugs. “I’ll say it’s a good thing. Because right now it makes me want to puke,” he admits.
“Breathing through your mouth can help, though sometimes I swear it just makes you taste whatever you’re smelling.”
He makes a fake-gagging sound and we both laugh. It’s getting late in the evening and we’re the last ones here. I have paperwork to do, a few medications to administer, and then I’m walking back to my house, taking a shower, and crashing on the couch. I might go crazy and put my phone on do not disturb mode so I can get a solid night’s sleep. My voicemail has numbers for animal ER services, though the closest equine clinic that’s open twenty-four hours is up near Grand Rapids.
Still, one night off is exactly what I need. I’m only human, after all, and I know my limits. How good I am about respecting them is a different story.
I have Henry help me hold a cat while I give her an antibiotic shot, and he assists me in checking on all the IV and catheter lines before closing up for the night. His mom isn’t here to pick him up yet, so he follows me into the barn to check on three patients we have back here.