Not Jealous At All
“Hi.” The happily smiling blond man who greeted Huxley at the door to the veterinary clinic immediately made his hackles rise, and for no actual reason. “How can we help?”
“Who are you?” Huxley barely refrained from biting his own tongue off, because that was rude as fuck.
Summers past didn’t matter anymore.
Yeah right.
The man’s eyes narrowed, and he didn’t immediately let Huxley in.
“We found an injured crow,” Danny volunteered, gently but firmly easing Huxley to one side so he could address the man. “We think his wing is broken.” He glanced at the sticker on the door stating the vet’s office hours and frowned. “I know you’re almost closed, but?—”
The cheerful blond didn’t even sigh, just opened the door wider. “Bring your bird in. I’ll go get Bill.”
Bill. He’d go get Bill. Not Dr. Wellcastle, or even ‘the vet’. Just Bill. Huxley’s grip on the box tightened. Shouldn’t the receptionist or whatever, be more formal?
“Thank you so much,” Danny said, and pushed at Huxley’s back to get him moving through the open door. “We really appreciate this.”
“Of course. Come right through. I think Bill’s just out watching the baby moose.”
“Oh!” Danny covered his mouth with both hands. “You have a baby moose?”
“We do. Would you like to see? Maybe take a selfie and talk us up a bit on your socials?”
Danny chuckled. “Is that a shameless request for exposure right there?”
“One hundred per cent, utterly and completely shameless. The more people who know we have a wildlife vet and rehabilitation center, the more chance someone will make a donation to support us. We want to help all the animals, but a lot of the people who bring injured wild animals to us just don’t have the funds to pay for their care. It leaves a lot of the burden for Bill’s work on the rest of the practice to bring in enough to pay for it all.”
“And we wouldn’t want Bill’s work to suffer,” Huxley muttered.
“No.” The guy gave him a well-deserved sideways look. “We wouldn’t.”
What the hell was the matter with him?
“And we want to be able to help pet owners who need a break, too.”
“Of course. Sorry. I’m just…” What? He was just what? Suddenly transported back to when he was seventeen and a completely jealous, stupid idiot?
“No worries.” This guy acted as if Huxley’s surliness was normal, and that only made him feel worse. “You have a hurt bird.” He patted Huxley’s arm and smiled at Danny. “That’s stressful.”
“Yeah.” He’d go with that.
“We do our best to help everyone,” the blond went on. “Like when the pet vet, Susan helped me when I found a kitten and had no money to pay for her care at the time. People here were so generous, but it never hurts to find more donors.”
“The more donations, the better.” Danny nodded. “I get it.” He held out a hand. “I’m Danny.”
“Leland.”
“Oh! That Leland? Deth Mittens Leland?” Danny asked.
Leland laughed as he opened an exam room door. “I am, indeed, Deth Mittens’s Leland, yes.”
“I landed on the community page when I was looking for a nice vacation spot nearby. I saw a post about you and your cat. This town really takes it’s strays seriously.”
Leland chuckled. “You have no idea.” He stood to one side to let them enter. “Just in here. I’ll go get Bill.” He looked at Huxley. “You want to come see the moose, too?”
Huxley grunted.
“Right.” Leland nudged Danny with an elbow. “Strong silent type, you got there.”
“Oh, he’s not mine.”
Huxley wondered if he should be upset at the dismissive comment. But then, didn’t he deserve to be dismissed if he was going to act like a complete ass because Bill had a cute, young office helper?
“And he wasn’t earlier,” Danny tilted his head, studying Huxley. “Strong, yes. At least I was hoping so. Silent, not so much.”
“Seriously?” Huxley mumbled. “I’ll stay with the bird, thanks.”
Danny patted his arm.
“Suit yourself.” Leland said, and he and Danny disappeared out the door.
Huxley let out a breath. He was being ridiculous. Leland seemed like a perfectly nice person. Just because he worked with Bill didn’t mean anything at all, and even if it did, it was no business of Huxley’s.
Ten. Years.
Bill probably liked him because of his sunny smile and bouncily happy disposition. He’d liked Huxley just fine back when Huxley was sunshiny, too.
Was it any surprise, given how he was acting, that Danny ditched him? He squared his shoulders and told himself to smarten up. He and Bill had been a long, long time ago.
The door opened before he could get nostalgic, and Bill walked in, already talking. “I hear you have an inju—oh.” he stopped in his tracks, frozen in the act of rolling one sleeve of his lab coat up to his elbow. “Huxley.”
“Bill.”
Seventeen-year-old Bill had been deliciously lithe and sexy. Grown-up Bill was still deliciously sexy, but more filled out. The growth spurt that had shot him up taller than Huxley in high school had never been followed by another. Now he was a few inches shorter and not quite as muscular as Huxley, but still mouth-watering.
“Injured bird?” Bill asked.
Huxley put his box on the exam table. “Injured bird, yes.”
“Let’s see, then.” Quickly, Bill washed his hands, then slipped on a pair of gloves before he opened the box to lift the bird out. His gaze flicked up to Huxley more than once as he worked. “How long has it been like this? Any idea?”
“We saw him get hit about fifteen, twenty minutes ago. Flew across the road right into a speeding SUV. Sort of bounced off.”
“Was he flying normally?”
Huxley thought about that. “I think so.”
“Not erratic?”
“No. We were watching him in the yard this morning. He was acting as normal as he ever does.”
“You’re familiar with him?”
“Sure. He’s always in our yard eating our snails. The tail feathers are easy to spot.”
“So he’s been acting normal as far as you could tell. No reason to think there’s anything neurological going on to make him fly into traffic.”
“No. He got startled out of the ditch where he was minding his own business when I nearly drove over him. I was trying to avoid that stupid SUV driver who uses our road for whatever reason. Bird didn’t seem hurt or anything until he hit the other car, but it was pretty fast.”
“No head trauma from the impact?”
“Not that we saw. He was stumbling around in the ditch like he was dizzy, but I don’t think he was ever out.”
“And did he try to get away from you when you approached?”
“A bit. We covered his head pretty quick, and he calmed down.”
“Good thinking.” Bill glanced up from unwrapping the bird. “And who’s we?”
“You got a new assistant, I see,” Huxley said, instead of answering the question.
“Leland? Sure. He’s Susan’s office admin, technically, but he runs the office on my Sunday shift, too.”
“What happened to—what was her name?”
“Michelle. We don’t talk about Michelle.”
“We don’t?”
“She’s somewhere in Bruce County with Susan’s ex.”
“Oh.” Huxley grimaced. “Ouch.”
“When Leland showed up to help out answering phones and such, in exchange for Susan caring for his cat, she hired him.”
“Just like that.”
“He’s a very good office admin, and he didn’t even blink at cleaning up puppy pee or handling a snake. He was happy to take a weekend shift when we asked.”
“Nice of him. Seems happy.”
“He’s great at his job.”
“That’s awesome.” His voice had that hard edge to it. He heard it, and apparently so did Bill, because he glanced up, an all-too-familiar line between his brows.
“This guy’s wing is definitely broken,” Bill observed, turning back to the bird and manipulating the wing with gentle care. “You did good binding it up like that.”
“Ducks,” Huxley said, recalling the times he’d had to treat the ducks on the farm when they’d had a fox living in the woods near the pond. Halfway through a summer when they’d lost three ducks and had to get another four of them treated, Huxley had gone to a poultry farm and bought a pair of geese.
He was pretty sure the fox, or the fox’s descendants, still lived in that wood, but they hadn’t lost a duck since. Geese were definitely better than guard dogs, although they had those, too, for the goats. The geese didn’t like the ducks much, but they’d made it clear very quickly that they were the geese’s ducks to dislike, and no one else’s.
“Yes. Of course. I remember,” Bill murmured.
And of course he would. That had been the summer Bill had decided veterinarian school was his calling. Together, they’d graduated high school that June, treated injured ducks in July, found geese guardians in August. Bill was gone by September. A defining year.
“What do you think?” Huxley asked. “Can you fix this guy?”
Bill leaned both hands on the table over the crow, who sat quietly waiting between forearms corded with muscle and distracting as fuck.
Not that Huxley noticed his forearms.
“It’s a bad break.” Bill’s stern voice dragged his attention up to his face. “I can bind it and hope for the best. Check again in a few days, and maybe surgery?” His dark brows drew down. “But’s it’s pretty bad. Even if he heals, he might not fly. Probably won’t fly. Not well enough to be on his own again, and certainly not well enough to migrate.”
“Can you fix him?”
“It’s a commitment, Hux.”
Huxley crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not the one with a commitment phobia.”
Bill grunted.
“Fix him.”
“It’ll all be on you. Right now, I have two Savanah cats I’m fostering, and I wouldn’t like his chances with them. They have a long way to go before they’re domestic enough to live with a bird.”
“Fine.”
“There is a lot of paperwork.”
“Why?”
“This is a wild animal. Not a pet. If you take him on, you have to get permission from the government, jump through a bunch of hoops. It’s a whole thing.”
“I can do whole things.” Huxley squared his shoulders.
“You’d become a sanctuary. On top of being a working farm and a bed and breakfast, that’s a lot of time, possibly some money. All for one bird.”
“I can do whole, big things,” he said again. “Even for just one bird.”
Bill shook his head. “Some things don’t change, do they?”
“Meaning?”
“I’m trying to tell you there might be barriers, and all you say is you can do it.”
“Because I can.”
“Because one little crow deserves—” Bill waved his hands at Huxley, up and down “—all of this.”
“Just as much as the ducks. As Dad. As anyone else. Yeah.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“What about today? Can you pay?”
Huxley clamped his jaw. “I’ll figure it out.”
Bill nodded. “Sure. We’ll figure that part out.”
“I don’t need?—”
“Of course you don’t,” he muttered. “You never do. Can you go in that drawer over there and hand me some of the medical tape? The wide black roll.”
Huxley stomped to the drawer indicated and yanked it open, only to end up with the drawer front in his hand and the drawer itself still closed. “Shit.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Bill huffed. “Careful. Drawer’s busted.”
“No shit.” He placed the drawer front on the counter and, fished out the tape to hand to Bill. “You should fix that.”
“Matthew’s going to.”
“If you guys can afford Matthew Sharp to fix your office furniture, you can afford a bit of medical tape for a bird.”
Bill snickered. “He offered because Leland dropped the front on his foot last week, and heaven forbid Matthew’s guy should have to deal with such a hardship as a bruised toe.”
“Matthew’s guy?” Fuck. Why had he automatically assumed Leland was with Bill?
“Yeah.” Bill grinned up at him. “Ever think you’d see the day Matthew Sharp found himself a guy?”
“That chipper Sunshine Boy?” Huxley snorted, jabbing thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the waiting room.
“He wasn’t always this happy. In fact, he was pretty spiky when he first came here. Domestic bliss looks good on them both.” He bent back over the bird to finish wrapping his wing. “Which you’d know if you ever talked to your friends.”
Huxley grunted. He talked plenty. Hadn’t Danny just said so? It was only when he got around Bill, he suddenly had barely anything to say, and every time he did open his mouth, he sounded like a grumpy old man. A presumptuous, grumpy old man.
For a moment, he stared at the bird then he lifted his gaze to Bill’s face, and stared at him, silent.
Bill sighed. “Fine. You don’t have to talk. Just listen.” He proceeded to outline the care the bird would need going forward.
Thankfully, Huxley knew the clinic would give him all the instructions in written form, because he couldn’t quite concentrate on them while he was watching Bill’s competent wrapping of the bird, the way his arms flexed and the sunlight caught and shimmered on the dark hair covering them, and definitely did not let himself feel relieved that Leland was someone other than Bill’s guy.
“So beyond all of that, I have to get you to do a crap ton of paperwork.”
“So you said.”
“We can’t keep the bird here. He needs more constant care for the first little while. I’m registered as a wildlife rehabilitation centre here and at home, but I can’t take him home, because of the cats.”
“So if you send this bird home with me, I have to register as a wildlife sanctuary. Seriously?”
Bill nodded.
“I’m just looking after it while it’s hurt.”
“He can’t go back to the wild. Most likely, if he can fly at all, it won’t be for long periods or very high. He’ll need a safe place, or all of this will be so a fox or some other predator gets a good meal of him. He won’t be able to migrate, either so winter shelter will be a necessity.”
“Well shit.”
“If you don’t want the responsibility, it’s fine.” Bill stroked a finger over the bird’s feathered head. “There’s another solution.”
God. He looked so sad Huxley’s chest hurt. Did he even know how his emotion spilled all through his features?
“No.” He touched the back of Bill’s hand. We’re not doing that. Obviously.”
Bill smiled, the thoughtful, kind smile Huxley remembered. “He’s young, Hux. You take him on it’s for life. Crows can live in the wild for more than fifteen years. In captivity, probably a lot longer.”
“So I’ll leave him to Janet’s kid in my will. Get your paperwork.”
“That’ll be the day your sister ever lets Leah touch a live animal.”
She’s much better, now she’s back home, and not subject to her asshole ex’s bullshit. But yeah. Leah will want to help. You’re sure it’s not sick at all?”
“I’ve done the swabs. So far, so good. I’ve taken blood and will have the tests done to be sure, but the swabs look fine, and his behavior doesn’t show any signs of him being sick. Just hurt. Handle him with care. Keep your hands clean for both your sakes, and use gloves if you can. Once I get the tests back, I’ll let you know and if he’s all clear, you can let Leah help.”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
“Good. Now, for the immediate, I can send him home with you to look after. I’ll make a few calls, and when I get the paperwork together, I can call you to come fill everything out.”
“It’s kid season, and Wembley’s goats went all out. Twins and triplets all over the place. Dad’s got his palomino, Grace is about to pop, and we have a full guest roster. So maybe come by the house when you can.”
“Sure.” Bill blinked at him. Was he surprised by the invitation? If so, he couldn’t be more surprised than Huxley was to have made it.
“Good.” He motioned towards the crow. “He ready?”
“He is. You can get all the instructions from Leland while I get his pain meds together.”
“Thanks.” Carefully gathering up the bird, Huxley set him back in the box, now lined with an old towel and a warm bottle of water, then closed the flaps. “See you soon, then,”
“See you.”