Chapter 17 #2
“He said six hours.”
“Then I can guarantee it was at least twelve,” Alan said. “He thinks he knows better than us, so he only calls as a last resort.”
That made me feel slightly better about losing the calf, but the threat of legal action was still dangling. “So will he actually sue?”
“He never has so far. He’s all piss and vinegar. I figure if he won’t spend money on vets, he’s not gonna spend it on lawyers.”
“So I don’t need to worry?” I asked. The stressed, overworked part of me was unable to believe I’d been panicking over an idle threat, but at the same time, the tightness in my chest eased and cautious optimism took its place.
“Trust me. He’ll call in a day or two when he thinks you’ve had enough time to get properly stressed out and offer to let the whole thing go if you waive the fees. And then he’ll tell you how lucky you are that he’s giving you another chance. Like I said, he’s an asshole.”
“You don’t know how glad I am to hear that. Not the asshole part, obviously. The other part, where he doesn’t sue me and Uncle Jim’s practice into the ground.” I tried to laugh, but it came out wrong.
“I think I have some idea,” he said. “Last time Trent tried to pull this bullshit, I told him to find a new vet. I honestly didn’t expect to hear from him again, or I would have told you to ignore his calls. It’s not worth the stress.”
I tried to imagine what would have happened at the practice in Cincinnati if I’d suggested turning down a paying client. Unemployment, probably.
“Anyway,” Alan said, breaking into my thoughts, “I know you’re relatively new at this, but one thing I learned early on is that if you want to last in this game, you can’t take it personally when clients blame you for things that aren’t your fault. You do your best, and you move on.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice catching. “I’ll try and remember that.”
“Call me if you want to bitch about any other clients,” Alan said.
I laughed again, and this time it was genuine.
When I spun around in Kayla’s chair, Cash was watching me from the doorway. He raised his eyebrows in a silent query.
I let out a breath. “Alan says the guy’s all threats and not to worry about it.”
“Would be nice if that’s how worries worked,” Cash said softly.
I snorted. “Right? But I guess all I can do is take his word for it and hope I don’t get served.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “It was good to tell him about it. The veterinary side, I mean. Made me a bit more certain that I hadn’t screwed up.”
“Good.” Cash closed the space between us and held his hand out for me. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet and put his arms around me. “I knew you hadn’t, but that’s good.”
My eyes stung suddenly, and I blinked them closed as he rubbed his hands up and down my spine. “Thanks for being here for all of this. And for believing in me.”
He lifted his head. “Where else would I want to be?”
I had no idea what I’d done to deserve Cash Hooper, but I wasn’t going to waste time questioning my luck.
So I tilted my head down and kissed him, softly and gently, and lifted a hand to draw my fingers through his hair.
Cash gave a pleased hum that vibrated against my lips, then hooked his hands into the waistband of my jeans, tugging me closer.
He deepened the kiss and then pulled back, eyes wide, and whispered, “Wanna take a nap with me?”
I rubbed my thumb along the shell of his ear and laughed softly. “More than anything, yeah.”
Cash smiled and led me upstairs to my bedroom.
We both stripped down to our underwear and climbed under the covers, and it was so fucking cozy and perfect that my eyes stung again. Cash curled up beside me and laid his head on my chest. He traced gentle patterns on my stomach with his fingers.
My head was still in a strange place, vacillating between a million different what-ifs, from the one where Trent Lee sued me successfully and I ended up even more broke than I was now, to the one where last night was just an awful dream and the calf was actually fine.
I thought about how I’d promised to go and see the psychologist in Hopewell that Adrian Conrad had recommended, and I wondered what that would be like.
If they were anything like Adrian, probably not as terrifying as I was anticipating.
“Hey,” I whispered into the top of Cash’s head. “I’m sorry I scared you today.”
His fingers froze, and he lifted himself up onto an elbow. “I’m not. I’m sorry it happened, but I’m glad you said it. If that’s what you felt, I mean.”
“It was,” I said, guilt twisting through my stomach.
“Mason?”
“Mmm?”
“You reminded me of Dog,” he said. “When—when I found him and took him. He just looked so tired, like he’d stopped caring. And bringing him to you, a stranger, was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.” He showed me a wavering smile. “But look at me now.”
“Listen to you, you mean.” My throat ached. I was so fucking proud of him.
He nodded. “Do you know what Mr. Conrad told me? Apart from it being okay to steal dogs if they’re being abused?”
I reached out and cupped his face. “What?”
“He told me that it’s okay to want things, even if you know you might not get them.
” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I wish you weren’t leaving.
I wish you would stay here. And not just for me.
For you too. You’re happier now than you were when I met you, and I don’t think that’s just because of me. I think Goose Run is good for you.”
“I had a breakdown like two hours ago, Cash.”
“I know.” His dark gaze bored into me. “But if you’d been in Cincinnati, you might not have had anyone to tell about what you were thinking. And then next time you might have driven off the road when you thought it.”
A jolt vibrated through my gut.
Cash was right.
And maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I would have gotten myself back on track before I’d made a decision I couldn’t take back, but I couldn’t be sure of that.
I thought of what Adrian had said about taking the time to think before I made any decisions. The one thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t want to go back to work in Cincinnati.
Just picturing walking back into that fast-paced, cookie-cutter practice with stacked appointments and the constant unrelenting pressure to work harder, faster, better—a clinic run on Key Performance Indicators and profit margins and shareholder reports—made my gut churn.
Add going home to an empty apartment at the end of the day on top of it, and I couldn’t think of anything worse.
It wasn’t as though there was anything in Cincinnati to tie me there.
I wasn’t close to my parents, and most of my friends had drifted away when I’d been buried in my work.
“I wanted to be a vet my whole life,” I said. “But then, sometime in the past two years, I really started to hate it. Like, stay up at night wondering what the fuck I’m doing kind of hate it.”
Cash stilled.
“At least, I thought I did,” I said. “But then I got here, and it’s different.
I like the work again. I like most of the clients.
Hell, some days I even like Lucille. A little bit.
It’s still stressful, but it’s a different kind of stress.
It doesn’t feel like I’m constantly on the verge of being sucked into a black hole here, for the first time in a long time. Until last night, at least.”
“Then why leave?”
Cash didn’t talk much, but his words sure packed a punch.
I let out a huff of laughter. “That’s a good fucking question, actually.”
Cash nodded and laid his head back down on my chest. I put an arm around him and tugged at the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
What did I have in Cincinnati? Not much.
But in Goose Run, I had Kayla and the clinic. I had a box full of kittens. I had Dog. I had spaghetti night with a bunch of guys who could be my friends. And I had Cash. Cash, who eclipsed every other one of those things like he was a goddamn supernova.
I thought again about Uncle Jim’s offer to sell me the practice.
I’d dismissed it out of hand because I was already buried under a mountain of debt, and who in their right mind wanted a practice in some weird little backwater town that didn’t even have a grocery store?
But that was before I’d gotten to know the people here.
And sure, the mayor was quirky as all hell, and his goose was a fucking menace, and the town wasn’t like anywhere else I’d ever been.
But maybe that was what made it special.
“I don’t actually have an answer for you,” I murmured, unsure if he was even still awake or not. “But it’s something I’m going to think about.”
The idea of staying in Goose Run, of taking over Uncle Jim’s practice, of being with Cash…
it was crazy, wasn’t it? Or was it exactly what I needed?
Last night had been an absolute shitshow, the sort of thing I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy, and it had shattered me.
But Cash had shown up, and so had Adrian, and so had Kayla, and that was three more people than would have in Cincinnati.
A strange combination of optimism and disbelief rose up in me as I pondered the idea that maybe the answer to all the problems in my life was the unlikely town of Goose Run, as I slowly came to the growing realization that life here could be good. Could be better than good, if I let it.
And did I really want to walk away from this place and leave Cash behind?
And when I thought of it like that, maybe the answer was a hell of a lot more obvious than I’d guessed.
I pressed another kiss to the top of Cash’s head and then closed my eyes. I drifted off to sleep thinking of a future that was different from the one I’d imagined before. And it was still blurry around the edges, but now it was starting to take shape—and that shape looked suspiciously like a goose.