Chapter 7
seven
Rosalie
It’s Tuesday morning, and after dropping an excited Paige at the campus day camp and giving my mom a quick call for some words of encouragement, I’m finally walking into the Equine Center for my first day of work.
Yesterday I spent all day at the Human Resources Department filling out paperwork.
Who knew working as a vet in conjunction with a university would have so much extra paperwork?
I certainly didn’t; I mostly did residencies with smaller equine vets in my area, and the red tape was not nearly as thick.
I’m surprised I didn’t wake up with a major case of carpal tunnel from the number of times I initialed something or wrote my signature.
As I swing open the doors, I’m hit with the familiar scent of hay mixed with a cloying, sterile scent I immediately associate with the surgical unit.
It’s an odd juxtaposition of smells, though it makes complete sense, since the foyer to the Equine Center is sleekly designed to transition directly into the emergency and surgical wing.
Several waiting areas and study corners flank the large white welcome desk, which is positioned in the middle of the spacious foyer.
Paired with the high ceilings and large windows overlooking the courtyard, it could be an intimidating place for owners and students alike.
But the warm aqua hue of the walls and the muted green furniture give it a bright yet calming feel.
Along the walls are paintings of horses in various settings, making the space feel both professional and inviting.
Behind the welcome desk is a large Winhaven Equine Center sign, and just below it sits a petite woman in navy scrubs and a bright, welcoming smile.
“Good morning, welcome to Winhaven Equine Center.”
“O-oh, good morning, and thank you,” I sputter nervously. This place was relatively empty when I came for my interview, and Elodie was there to greet me herself. “I’m Rosalie Whittington, the new vet.”
“That would be Dr. Whittington,” a voice calls out from behind me, and I turn to face it, my body relaxing a fraction at the familiar face.
“And you should probably get used to introducing yourself that way,” she says with a friendly wink.
“Welcome to Winhaven Equine Center, indeed,” my new boss, Dr. Elodie McNeil, says with a smile.
Elodie is stunning, tall with long dark hair, high cheekbones, big brown eyes, and a small pert nose.
She looks like she should be walking the runway, not treating horses all day.
How she manages to make khakis, a Winhaven polo, and field boots look good is beyond me.
Her whole look should be intimidating, but paired with such an air of friendliness, I can see why she’s the head of the department. The combination is quite effective.
“Hi, thank you so much. I’m excited to be here. And thanks again for the rental, it’s going to be perfect for my daughter and me.”
Elodie waves a hand. “Oh my gosh, don’t mention it. I’m just glad everything worked out the way it did. I see you’ve met Kara, our front desk associate.”
“Not formally.” I extend my hand toward the woman. “It’s nice to meet you, Kara. I’m Dr. Whittington.” The introduction feels weird on my tongue, but there’s a hint of pride there as well. I worked hard for this. I remind myself I deserve it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Whittington,” Kara says without hesitation. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help on your first day. We’re excited to have a new vet on staff.”
“Kara’s the best,” Elodie says, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Now, let’s go ahead and get you situated.”
We follow one of the long corridors off the waiting area back to a large, open workspace with several desks inside. Elodie walks to the desk in the far corner of the room, pointing to the set of cabinets behind it.
“We sit in the same room so we can brainstorm if needed, however, those cabinets are all yours,” she says, drawing out the word “all” like she’s a game show host, and it makes me laugh, alleviating more of my first day jitters.
“Awesome, thanks,” I say, reaching for a cabinet and putting my purse and lunch inside.
After a brief orientation, Elodie and I head out of the office for a tour of the facility. I got a brief tour during my interview, but I still haven’t seen anything beyond our main offices and the connecting surgical wing.
As we pass some of the viewing rooms, Elodie gestures to some of the most technologically advanced equipment on the market, and I’m immediately grateful I was able to graduate from a top veterinary school that granted me access to working with much of what I’m seeing now.
We exit the surgical wing into a round courtyard with a large horse statue in the middle, sidewalks extending outward like the spokes on a wheel into different buildings.
Elodie gestures to the right. “Let’s head this way first. These are our foaling barns,” she says, swinging the door open, the scent of only sawdust and hay hitting my nose, the purity of it immediately taking me back to our home above the barn, and I smile.
Large stalls line each side of the barn and nickers come from every direction. Soon, several horses poke their heads out of the top of the stalls, and my heart soars when I finally realize this is my job. I get to do this every day.
“Not a bad place to work for horse girls like us, is it?” Elodie asks with a wistful smile.
“Not at all,” I return, my smile broadening so big my cheeks hurt.
“Come on, let’s keep going.”
I trail behind Elodie as she leads me back out of the foaling barn toward the opposite side of the courtyard and into another barn.
“This is our post-op barn, where our horses stay overnight for monitoring after major surgery, and next door is our pre-op barn for our patients who are on the schedule for the day. Some come in the day before early surgeries and stay overnight, and others come in the day of and stay for comfort before their surgeries. Both buildings have extra staff to accommodate the risks that come with surgery.”
The sound of heavy footsteps has us both turning to find an intimidating man striding down the hallway with a scowl on his face. He’s tall with a chiseled jawline, light brown hair, and piercing blue eyes that only accentuate the severity of his facial expression.
“Dr. McNeil,” he says with a curt nod, never slowing his pace.
Just as he’s about to pass, Elodie reaches out and touches his arm. He looks down at the contact with a slight sneer on his face, but Elodie doesn’t back down.
“Dr. Thatcher, this is our newest vet, Dr. Rosalie Whittington. I’m just giving her a tour of the facility before rounds start.”
The scowl remains as the giant grump of a man turns and sticks out his hand to me. “Dr. Rowan Thatcher, welcome to Winhaven.” Giving me exactly one firm shake of my hand, he continues down the barn aisle. No smile, no pleasantries, nothing.
The door to the barn closes behind him and Elodie spins toward me.
“I know this is your first day, and I’m really trying for the whole professionalism thing, but…
ugh, he’s such an asshole. I was hoping you’d get a feel for the rest of the staff before meeting Dr. Dickhead.
So sorry for that rude introduction. I promise he’s much better with the horses than with people. ”
I smile at Elodie’s brazen description of Dr. Thatcher. I wouldn’t have the guts to talk about any of my colleagues that way, but I applaud her bold personality and unfiltered words.
“No worries. I worked with a vet like him during one of my residencies, I can handle it.”
“Great, I’m glad. You can be my accountability partner and hold me back when he inevitably pisses me off and I lose it.”
I full on laugh, feeling it deep down in my gut. It feels good, freeing, and I know right then I’m going to enjoy working with Elodie McNeil.
***
I’ve been shadowing Elodie most of the morning, and by the time we break for lunch, I’m both exhausted and exhilarated. I’m also incredibly hungry. So, when Elodie asks if I want to head across campus and grab lunch at The Winhaven Commons, I don’t hesitate to say yes.
I was so nervous about my first day and making sure Paige had everything she needed this mama barely made it out of the house with her kid and a sack lunch of chips, an apple, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I have no idea what kind of food the commons serves, but it must be better than what’s currently sitting in my cabinet.
As we walk across campus I’m hit by the intense humidity in the Kentucky air.
It’s nothing like the dry climate of Colorado, and I can feel the dampness on my skin and my hair getting bigger by the moment.
Pulling my hair tie from my wrist, I make a quick topknot and immediately feel a bit cooler when the breeze hits the nape of my neck.
“Feels a bit different from Colorado, doesn’t it?” Elodie asks.
“You’ve been?” The surprise evident in my voice.
“I have. My family used to visit Estes Park for the Christmas parade when we were young. We’d leave the day after Thanksgiving and get there a couple of days before the parade, staying the following week to ski.”
“I love Estes! And the Christmas parade is the best!”
“I need to make it back sometime. I miss the colder weather and the snow.”
“My family still lives in Loveland. Maybe you can come home with me sometime, and we can take a trip to Estes Park. It’s only a thirty to forty-minute drive, depending on traffic. We could stay and ski too.”
Elodie’s quiet for a second, but my skin heats even further, this time with embarrassment.
I’ve literally spent less than eight hours with this woman, and I’m prematurely inviting her to come home with me like we’re best friends forever.
I might as well have whipped out one of those friendship necklaces and given her the other half.
“Sorry, apparently I’m trying to fast track our friendship.”
Elodie laughs. “No, no, that could be fun. I’d love to get out there again. And, as far as fast-tracking friendships, I’ve already enlisted you to be my one phone call should things get dicey with Dr. Dickhead, so I’d say we’re pretty close already.”
***
Arriving at the commons, Elodie and I split up, her going to grab a deli sandwich and me heading for pizza, before meeting back at the table.
Our conversation flows easily as we eat lunch, and I find I really enjoy her dry sense of humor and straight-shooting demeanor.
She shares more about the day-to-day at the Equine Center and a bit about herself.
She tells me about the town she grew up in, not too far from here, called Carlsburg, and that she moved to Winhaven after she got the job at the Equine Center. She lives just outside of town on some acreage with a small barn, two horses of her own, and an English bulldog named Butch.
“That’s not your typical farm dog,” I say with a laugh.
“Oh, definitely not. He spends most of his time lying around the house and occasionally on the front porch outside. He wants nothing to do with the horses, and I swear he’s allergic to hay, but he does love to sit in the front seat of the Gator when I drive around the farm.”
I laugh, gathering my trash and picturing a dog with a massive underbite and smashed face in the front seat of a vehicle next to someone as gorgeous as Elodie. It’s a funny pairing, but I’m here for it.
After tossing our trash, we make our way back to the Equine Center, while Elodie points out the other buildings near us on campus and gives me the rundown on how the rest of the afternoon will play out.
Pushing through the front doors, we find Kara, arms propped on the counter, looking intently up at a man who looks suspiciously familiar.
My heart rate picks up, and my mind races with all the reasons Cameron could be here, at my place of work.
I don’t recall telling him I lived in Winhaven, let alone where I worked.
Hesitantly, I drop back behind Elodie, not wanting him to see me right away, but before I can say anything, Elodie beats me to it.
“Cameron Brown, what are you doing here?”
Cameron turns to face us fully with a beaming smile stretched across his face.
“Dr. Elodie McNeil…” he starts before his gaze catches mine, and he shakes his head in what appears to be disbelief. “And Rosalie. Or should I call you Dr. Rosalie?” he finishes with a smirk.