Chapter 8
Ben was in the midst of one of the more chaotic days of his career. It was a testament, maybe, to how quickly he’d gotten a reputation in Bluebell Cove as “the vet to take your pets to.” But that didn’t mean he wasn’t running himself ragged.
That morning at the vet clinic, he’d had a cat surgery, a dog bone break, a lizard skin cancer removal surgery, and a call with a horse owner who was panicking about something not to worry about.
By the time three thirty rolled around, he hadn’t had time to eat anything, and he was famished.
He asked his secretary, Sammy, if there was time coming up, a space for a break, maybe.
She searched the calendar, frowning, and said, “Maybe around now, actually?” But even as she said it, another customer came in, worry etched across her face.
There was a dog in her arms, a Frenchie.
It was bleeding, and its paw hung limply through the air.
Ben’s heart went out immediately to the dog.
It took a minute for him to realize that the woman holding him was Wren Harper, who’d fainted at the Eco-Lodge.
“What have we got here?” Ben asked, reaching over to take the dog from Wren.
“I was out on the coast near the woods,” Wren said, her eyes urgent. “He was sort of trapped under a rock? It took all my strength to get him out of there and carry him here.”
“Ah! You found him?” Ben asked, guiding her into the all-white room at the end of the hallway.
“Yes.” Wren sounded petrified. “I didn’t know what to do. I googled vets in the area, and yours was the closest. I’ve, um, never had a pet before. I hope I did the right thing?”
“You did. Don’t worry! Let’s see what we can do for the little guy.”
Ben set the Frenchie down gently on the table and raised his chin to look at Wren.
He wondered if she recognized him at all.
He wondered if he should say something, maybe that his brother was Landon Brooks, Celia’s boyfriend.
But the task at hand was this little dog on the table, who was so tender and meek but also very sleek and well taken care of, minus whatever had happened to him.
It was clear that he had an owner somewhere.
Ben checked him out, then set the paw in a cast and disinfected the gash on his back.
By the end of it, the little dog was panting happily and smiling at both of them.
All the while, Wren had remained quiet and watchful. But now, she said, “That was like magic,” clasping her hands.
Ben laughed, then turned toward his computer to check the calendar.
He didn’t have another appointment for another twenty minutes, which gave him time to post a listing on his website, as well as on the state’s website for missing animals.
“We want to make it easy for his owners to find him,” he explained to Wren.
Wren smoothed her hands over his head and cooed, “We’re going to find your parents! Don’t worry.” And then, to Ben, she asked, “But what will happen to him before that?”
Ben considered this. “We have a humane society, of course. I can make a call?”
Wren grimaced. “No. I mean, is it an option for me to take him home until someone calls about him?”
“It is,” Ben affirmed. Again, he remembered how she’d fainted at the Eco-Lodge party and wondered if she was in any health position to take care of another living thing.
Then again, sometimes taking care of another living thing gave people the wherewithal to take care of themselves.
He knew that firsthand from his marriage—and his career, of course.
“That’s great.” Wren smiled.
Ben took a breath. Was he really going to do this? “You know, I think we know each other?”
“Oh.” Wren’s eyes were steady, but she looked disappointed. “I guess everyone in Bluebell Cove knows each other.”
“No, not like that. I mean, I was gone a long time. I lived in Boston,” Ben hurried to say. He didn’t want her to think he was like everyone else in Bluebell, waiting around here forever, ready to leap on her when she came back. “But my brother is Landon Brooks? Celia’s boyfriend.”
Wren’s smile was generous and gentle and beautiful. “Oh! Of course.” And then she winced. “I guess you saw me at the party the other day? I’d been traveling since early in the morning. Forgot to eat.”
“It happens to me, too,” Ben assured her, although he’d never fainted in his life. He knew it wasn’t normal.
Wren was quiet for a moment, still stroking the dog. “I hope Ivy doesn’t freak out about me bringing a dog home.”
“Should you ask her?”
“Maybe? But we’re having so many problems right now,” Wren said. “I don’t want to give her yet another reason to be annoyed with me.”
“Maybe you can hide him,” Ben suggested.
“Like in an old TV sitcom.” Wren laughed.
“Once, I hid a rabbit in my room for three days,” Ben said. “When my mother found out, she was so angry, but she also fell so in love with the rabbit that she bought him a better cage and good food. When he ran away a few months later, she cried.”
“That’s a great story,” Wren said. “Minus the mother-crying thing, I guess.”
“I like thinking that the rabbit went on to have a very happy life in the woods,” Ben said.
Wren smiled wider.
Ben felt suddenly hesitant. He knew that the Harper sisters had lost their mother a long time ago.
Wren had probably been no more than a toddler at the time.
Ben had almost no memories of their mother—whose name had now escaped him.
Mary? Something that started with M, he was pretty sure.
But there had always been rumors about Mrs. Harper, whispers that she was unhappy and maybe even having an affair with someone before she died.
The family was broken, he knew. But most families were cracked around the edges. Even his own. Especially his own.
“Where were you coming from?” Ben asked.
“Hmm? You mean, when I got back to Bluebell?” When Ben nodded, she said, “I flew in from Greece. I’m a travel photographer, so I go wherever the assignments take me.
I was hired to take photographs of Bluebell Cove, so here I am.
” She reached down for her camera bag, then removed her camera to show off the shots she’d taken that morning and early afternoon.
Ben was astounded by her mastery of form, color, and perspective.
He wasn’t sure how much to gush about how beautiful it all was. He didn’t want to sound cheesy.
What he said was, “I could never in a million years do what you do.”
Wren laughed and gestured toward the dog between them. “I could never do what you do, either.”
Ben searched the supply closet to find a leash to attach to the Frenchie’s collar, then returned and watched as Wren hooked the little guy up and led him into the waiting room. Ben had the sudden instinct to follow her, to walk them both back home.
“I don’t know what to call him,” she said nervously. “I don’t want to give him the wrong name. What does he look like?”
Ben considered this. “Greg?”
Wren threw her head back. “Greg isn’t a dog’s name, is it?”
Ben chuckled. “You’d be surprised. I’ve met many, many Gregs in my line of work.”
“Dogs named Greg?”
Ben shook his head. “I remember a bearded dragon named Greg. A few snakes. One kitten.”
“Huh.” Wren looked thoughtful. “I guess you learn a lot about people by the way they treat their pets.”
“I could write a book about it,” he said.
“I would read that book.” Wren smiled.
They hovered at the exit. Ben reached for the door to open it for her and the Frenchie, who remained unnamed. “By the way,” he said. “I think I’m coming to your family party this weekend. I guess I’ll see you again?”
“Oh!” Wren’s eyes widened. “You know, they just told me about it. Maybe you’re more in the family than I am.”
Ben chuckled, although he sensed the darkness beneath what she said. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said.
“Ah, well,” Wren said, fixing her face into a smile. “I have Pierre now.”
“Pierre?” Ben was momentarily confused until Wren gestured down at the little dog.
“A Frenchie named Pierre,” Wren said, winking. “Do you think it fits him?”
“I think it’s perfect,” Ben said, laughing, although he had to admit he never would have named that little dog Pierre. Naming anything was difficult, though. It trapped them in an identity.
After Wren left, Ben turned back and caught his secretary, Sammy, watching him. She gave him a look that said, I see what you’re up to.
“How are you, Sammy?” Ben asked, cutting past the desk to get back to his office.
“Do you know that woman?” Sammy asked.
“She’s my brother’s girlfriend’s sister,” Ben said. “We’re basically family.”
“Uh-huh.” But Sammy didn’t sound like she believed him for a second.