3
Savannah backed out of the dog room and closed the door, finally muffling the deafening sound of a dozen animals all barking at once. She loved her job, but full kennels made her head pound, and right now, she could feel a whole percussion section behind her eyes.
“Savannah?”
She jumped and turned to find a tall, older man standing a few feet away.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” said Dr. Timson.
Savannah pressed her hand against her chest and forced herself to breathe more slowly. “I-it’s okay,” she stammered. “I’m jumpy on the best days.”
Dr. Timson smiled kindly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “On the contrary, I’ve heard you’re one of the steadiest technicians we’ve had in a long time. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
Dr. Timson wanted to talk to her? Specifically?
Savannah racked her mind for a reason. Dr. Timson owned the clinic in Cypress Valley, as well as several others in the area.
He wasn’t their regular in-house veterinarian, but he did drop by from time to time to see how things were running.
Savannah could only remember talking to him twice in the short time she’d been back in West Tennessee—both times as part of her interview process.
The older man seemed to notice her discomfort because he smiled again, reminding Savannah a little of her grandfather. “No need to worry, Ms. Reynolds. You haven’t been sent to the principal’s office,” he joked.
Savannah gave a weak smile in return, her heart still jackhammering behind her breastbone. Dr. Timson made his way over to the now-empty exam table and sat down on a stool to one side. Then he gestured for Savannah to take the other seat.
“Are you still interested in an anesthesia specialty?” he asked.
Savannah sank onto her stool, wrinkles creasing her forehead. How did he know she liked—
“You mentioned it in your interview,” the doctor clarified. “Just a passing comment, but when I called your references, Dr. Clements said you’d been especially interested in anesthesia and showed great promise. I’m wondering if that’s still something you’d consider pursuing.”
Savannah silently considered the question.
Training for a specialty was a big deal for a veterinary nurse and would likely mean a jump in pay, but it also took several years and a special board license.
It wasn’t something she could do overnight, and it would require working for a much larger clinic with a more robust surgical setup.
She didn’t want Dr. Timson to think she was already trying to jump ship.
“I think I’d enjoy it, yes,” she started, “but I’m not planning to go anywhere for a while. ”
He smiled and leaned his forearms on the table between them, his hands clasped on the smooth surface.
“Well, I ask because an old friend of mine owns a practice in Huntsville, Alabama, and his primary veterinary anesthesia technician will be retiring in a few years. He asked if I knew anyone who might be interested in training there and taking over the job when the time comes, and your name came to mind. You’re from that area, aren’t you? ”
Savannah blinked, processing this unexpected information. Huntsville was less than three hours from home; she could cut the trip in half! “Yes, sir,” she answered. “My parents are in Tuscaloosa.”
“Good, good,” Dr. Timson went on. “Well, just keep the idea in mind, and if you do decide you’d like to throw your hat in the ring, I’ll be happy to give you a recommendation. Dr. Madden tells me good things about your work here.”
“I appreciate that, sir! I will think about it,” Savannah said. Fragmented thoughts were already zipping through her brain like cracked-out hummingbirds. How much was rent in Huntsville? Could she sublet her current apartment? What exactly did it mean to sublet?
“You’re welcome! Please let me know if I can ever be of service,” Dr. Timson said, rising from his seat.
“I’ll leave you be now.” He turned and went back down the long hallway in the direction of Dr. Madden’s office.
Savannah watched him pause and knock on the other vet’s door before letting himself inside.
An anesthesiology job in Huntsville?!
Part of her wanted to jump for joy—a chance to specialize, a chance to make more money, a chance to be closer to her family!
But another part felt an odd sense of disquiet.
She’d only just gotten settled in Cypress Valley, only just started to reopen old friendships and peek inside them.
Did she really want to turn around and leave again?
She’d never expected to come back a second time; if she left now, she doubted there would be a third.
Savannah wandered up to a folding table laden with home-baked bread. The smell was heavenly, and she closed her eyes to better enjoy a lungful of the warm, yeasty scent. How much bread could one person safely eat? And did she have enough money for it all?
“Eight dollars a loaf,” the baker said, obviously noticing Savannah’s interest. Either that or she was openly drooling, a possibility she couldn’t completely rule out.
“Sold!” she said quickly. She paid the woman before choosing one of the plastic-wrapped loaves and cradling it against her body like a child.
If she’d been planning to visit the farmers’ market, she might have thought to bring a tote bag or something, but as it was, the stop had been a spontaneous decision, and she’d arrived woefully unprepared.
Everything she could see looked delicious: trays of flavored honey straws, jars of colorful jams and salsas, and crates of ripe fruits and vegetables.
Savannah was wandering the aisles, mostly trying to make up her mind, when she finally spied a stall with a familiar logo on the cloth-covered table.
Tanner Farms.
Her eyes traveled from the produce-laden tabletop to the young woman behind it, and her mouth nearly dropped open. “Brooklyn?!” she shouted.
The woman looked up, clearly having heard her name but unable to tell who had called it. Savannah strode forward and laid her loaf of bread on the table. “Brooklyn Tanner, are you serious?”
Confusion clouded the girl’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a look of surprise. “Savannah? No way!” Brooklyn darted out from behind the table, and the two girls collided in a long-overdue embrace, both chattering at the same time.
“You look the same as ever!”
“You were still a kid when I left!”
“Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Savannah squeezed Drew’s sister again and stepped back to look at her from arm’s length. “No more princess dresses, I see?”
Brooklyn grinned, and her cheeks turned pink. “I had to grow out of that sometime, didn’t I? Besides, they don’t make them in my size anymore.”
Savannah could feel her smile stretching wider by the second. Brooklyn was four years younger than her brother, but she’d often been a tagalong with Drew and the older kids anyway. “Where are your folks?” Savannah asked, looking around.
“Oh, they’re not here, but I know they’d love to see you! You should come by the house sometime,” Brooklyn exclaimed.
A crash from nearby made both women jump, and Savannah looked beyond Brooklyn for the first time to see a familiar flatbed truck parked a few yards from the pavilion.
Drew was standing beside it glaring down at a pile of empty wooden crates that had apparently fallen over.
Savannah watched as he jerked one roughly from the ground and began to stack them again.
“Oh, don’t mind him,” Brooklyn said carelessly. “He’s having a cranky day.”
“Does he have any other kind?” Savannah asked. The words jumped from her mouth without thought, and she clapped one hand over her lips. “I’m sorry, that was rude,” she said.
But Brooklyn was smiling. “Rarely,” she supplied. “Today it’s about the rain.”
Savannah looked out at the cloud-filled sky that threatened to keep leaking the way it had been doing all week. “The rain? I thought farmers liked rain.”
“We do,” Brooklyn explained, “but the harvest should have started days ago, and now the corn is too wet to cut.”
“Oh.”
“It’s only a week, which makes a difference, sure, but it isn’t the end of the world.
” Brooklyn went on. “Though to hear Drew talk, you’d think they were already a month behind.
” She paused to sell a woman a container of bright-red tomatoes before continuing.
“He’s also irritated that some of us decided to watch the football game at his house later. ”
Savannah furrowed her brow. “He didn’t invite you?”
There was another crash as Drew set his newly stacked crates back on the bed of the truck with more force than necessary. “No, I did not invite them,” he cut in, making it apparent that he’d been listening to their conversation.
Savannah felt her cheeks redden as she remembered her earlier comment.
Brooklyn rolled her eyes and turned toward her brother. “Well, you’re the only cousin with his own house, so you get to have us over. That’s how it works. If we waited for you to invite us, we’d never get to do anything.”
Drew grumbled audibly but kept working.
“Anyway,” his sister said, addressing Savannah again, “the UT game starts at three, and you should definitely come.”
Savannah paused, eyeing Drew again over Brooklyn’s shoulder. He was still organizing the crates and boxes on the back of his truck, but she got the feeling he was listening intently. And that he did not want her to say yes.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to intrude. It’s a family thing.”
“No, please, intrude! Otherwise, Ashlyn and I will be drowning in testosterone,” Brooklyn insisted.
“It’s okay if you’re busy!” Drew added loudly, confirming Savannah’s suspicions—though his answer made her want to come even more. Or maybe she just wanted to raise his hackles a bit higher. Either way, she made her decision.
“Sounds like fun!”
Drew cracked open a can of Coke just as Ryker started to bark from the front porch. Water sloshed beneath the tires of a vehicle, and moments later, he heard the slam of a car door.
She’s here.