Highland Doc's Christmas Rescue

The dirty street behind him was graveled with disappointment and heartache. He had vowed the lane ahead would be paved with the love and loyalty of a woman who wanted him as much as he did her. A lifelong partner. The next time he fell in love, he would get it right.

He shoved that fantasy aside and concentrated on what he was there for. “How’re you doing?”

“Better after a hot bath.”

“Good. You were impressive out there, Cass. You stayed in control. I know you must have been in pain. You should have said something. More than that, I should’ve thought.” Guilt filled him. “I’m sorry.”

She opened the door wider. “Hey, I’m an EMT. I’m trained to help.”

“True, but you’re also a patient here. I should have remembered that.” She looked cute in her T-shirt with her pink-tipped toes.

“I’m fine.” For once her eyes weren’t clouded with hidden feelings. In fact, there was a hint of a smile in them.

“I’m glad. Then I’ll let you get some rest.” He needed to go. Right now. He started down the hall.

“Hey, Lyle.”

He almost kept going, but curiosity got the better of him.

“You were pretty impressive out there too.”

He smiled. It felt good to have someone praise him, especially Cass. He was confident in his abilities, but it didn’t hurt to have others notice. His father certainly hadn’t. “Thanks. Sleep well, Cass.”

CHAPTER FOUR

CASS’S HAND SHOOK as she wrapped it around the handle of the glass door of the canine therapy center the next afternoon. She had said she’d keep her appointment and she would. But she wasn’t looking forward to it.

The thought of having anything to do with a dog made her want to break down and cry. The pain of losing Rufus was still too raw. It might be silly for a grown professional woman to feel this way, but she didn’t care. Rufus was gone. Some part of her clung to the irrational hope he would be waiting with his tail wagging when she returned home. No other dog could replace him.

She would do what she had to, then hurry to her room for a good cry.

When she jerked the door open the young man sitting behind the desk started. This was the same high-ceilinged room with the rough board walls where she and Lyle had brought the puppy a couple of nights before. He’d said it used to be the stables and she could now see that. The other night all that’d filled her mind was that she had a dog in her arms.

“Can I help you?” the man at the desk asked.

“I’m Cass Bellow. I’m a resident at the clinic.”

He looked down as if checking a list, then back at her. “Oh, yes, we’ve been expecting you.” As he got to his feet he added, “Come with me. Margaret assists with the canine therapy program. She’s back here.”

Cass forced her feet to move and followed him down a hall. It wasn’t the same one Lyle and Esme had led her down to the examination room the other night. The man pushed through a swing door. Cass entered a room furnished with easy chairs.

A dark-haired woman was down on her heels next to a woman seated in an easy chair holding a small black dog of no pedigree. Cass recognized the woman in the chair from the dinner table at the clinic. Lyle had introduced them, but Cass didn’t remember her name. Shame pricked her. She hadn’t even tried.

“Margaret, this is Cass Bellow,” the man announced.

The dark-haired woman looked at them, stood and came toward Cass with one hand outstretched. She smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

Was that her subtle way of reprimanding her for not showing up for her earlier appointments? The temptation to run grew.

“I help Esme with the canine therapy here at Heatherglen,” Margaret continued.

The man quietly left the way they had come in.

Staring at the small dog that was enjoying the woman’s gentle pats, Cass’s chest tightened. She wasn’t ready for this. She had no interest in doing anything with a dog.

Margaret was saying, “I thought you might like to meet Muffin. He’s a sweet little dog. He’ll be your companion during your stay. Let me get him and you can get acquainted.” She stepped through a side door.

Cass stood, knees shaking, in the middle of the room, looking everywhere but at the other woman. She didn’t want any responsibility for a dog for the next month. Especially one named Muffin. Her breathing became shallow. Her mouth turned dry. She shifted from one foot to the other. The need to leave intensified. This was too much. A meltdown was building if she didn’t get out of there. She wasn’t ready, might not ever be. What if she became too attached to the ridiculous Muffin? She would be leaving soon. All this pain would be there again.

Without thought Cass bolted for the door and up the hall to the front room. She had to get out of there. Ignoring the man behind the desk calling her name, she shoved the door open and stumbled into the cold air. Sucking in a deep breath, she kept going, heading toward the castle. By way of a side door she’d found yesterday, she slipped inside unnoticed.

Instead of going to her room, where someone would surely look for her, she headed for the conservatory. While exploring she’d also found an alcove hidden behind some large palm plants and banana trees with only a small sofa. There she could lick her wounds in private.

Relief washed through her when she found the floral fabric-covered settee empty. She sat, pulling her legs up under her and wrapping the coat Lyle had loaned her tighter. When would the pain go away?

She had no idea how long she had been sitting there staring off into space when she heard, “Cass?”

Lyle.

She stiffened. How had he found her? It didn’t matter. She had no intention of explaining herself. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? “Go away.”

He just stood there.

Finally, she murmured, “How did you know where to find me?”

“I saw you come in here. When I had a call from the center I knew where to look.”

Great. She’d believed she’d made her escape. Her focus remained on the green spots showing in the snow that was melting outside. “So now you’re riding to the rescue.”

Lyle came to sit beside her. “I’d just like to help. Be a friend. I was told you looked upset.”

Maybe if she ignored him he would go away. Instead of him taking the hint to leave, he settled further back into the cushions, his big body almost touching hers. They remained like that for a while, neither saying anything.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Cass stared at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam streaming through the glass.

“Not until I know you’re okay.” He stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles.

She huffed. “Let me assure you I’m not going to harm myself.”

“I didn’t think that but it’s good to hear.”

He settled back as though he was content to stay the rest of the day. As the silence between them grew so did her temper. She hissed, “What do I have to say to get you to leave?”

For a moment she thought he was ignoring her. When he did reply, concern laced his voice. “I’d like to understand why you’re determined to have no part in our canine therapy program, especially since you work with a dog all the time.”

Could she tell him? Would he understand? Was that the only way to get him to leave her alone? If he knew, maybe he would see to it she didn’t have to go to canine therapy.

She opened her mouth to tell him about Rufus but the words stuck in her throat. If she said it out loud, then it would make it true. She didn’t want that. Couldn’t live with that. She closed her eyes tight. Maybe if she said it really fast she could get it out. “Rufus, my partner, died. Now I don’t know if I can be around a dog all the time.”

The moisture she had been banking for days seeped out of her closed eyelids. She took a deep breath in an effort to stop the sob wellin

g in her throat but it didn’t work. Instead she doubled over in agony. As she tried to catch her breath Lyle ran his large hand across her back in a comforting stroke.

Then he cupped her shoulder and pulled her against his chest. She buried her face in his shirt, her fingers clutching his sides. All the emotions she had held in check since the day that wall had collapsed flowed freely. The pain deep within her consumed her. Rufus was gone. Life as she’d known it had gone with him.