Chapter 6
6
L ila followed Diane Robinson and her daughter from the exam room back into the veterinary clinic’s waiting area. “I think Puff Daddy is going to be all right. Just a little feline morning sickness.” She winked in Diane’s direction.
The little girl buried her face against the furry yellow, and very fat, cat’s torso. “Thank you so much! I was so afraid Puff was gonna die.”
Her mother smiled. “Honey, I told you—cats rarely die from hurling up their breakfast. Even if three days in a row,” her mother told her.
“Your mother’s right,” Lila added. “Puff Daddy is going to be a mommy.”
Despite the irony, the young girl’s face brightened with delight. “Which means baby kittens?”
Diane sighed. “Yes, kittens.” She leaned toward Lila, hand cupped at her mouth. “My husband is going to have a fit when he finds out.”
“We’re keeping them,” her daughter declared. “All of them.”
Diane smiled and patted her young daughter’s shoulder. “We’ll see.” She turned to Lila. “Tell Doc Tillman that I’ll bring him some jars of my pickled rhubarb just as soon as he gets back. Doc loves my pickled rhubarb.”
Lila nodded while maintaining a smile on her face. She bid the mother, daughter, and cat goodbye with a wave.
“Too bad canned goods don’t pay the bills,” she murmured as soon as the door closed behind Diane and her daughter.
Or baked cakes and pies. Or venison jerky.
Lila turned and walked back to the exam room. Doc Tillman could afford more state-of-the-art equipment if he ran a tighter shop. She’d worked for Doc since high school, and as long as she’d known him, he had bartered with anyone who was strapped for cash—which was a lot of the people in Thunder Mountain.
“We have enough to get by,” he’d argued when she suggested he might be getting taken advantage of. “The Lord makes sure we have plenty.”
While she appreciated his generous spirit, his antiquated vet clinic could use some updating. And she could use a raise more often than every five years.
Lila tore a handful of paper towels from a roll and went to work cleaning the stainless-steel examination table.
While ninety percent of her high school class had fled Thunder Mountain the minute they had their graduation certificate in hand, she had elected to stay. Even after she married. She appreciated the security her hometown provided—especially when Aaron left on his second tour of duty in Afghanistan which left her stateside waiting for him to come home.
She loved Thunder Mountain and the people who had become family. This tiny mountain town was her home. Besides, how could she possibly do life without Charlie Grace, Reva, and Capri—even if leaving might mean a real veterinary career?
Lila noticed the trash can was getting full. She lifted the plastic bag from the container, tied it off, and headed for the back door that led to the dumpster.
Outside, the air was filled with the earthy fall scent of pine and sagebrush that lingered long after the last lupine blooms had faded. The aspens were now showing off their shades of gold and there was a crispness in the air that signaled winter could swoop in and dump snow on the mountain peaks at any time.
Lila took a moment to take it all in, reminding herself once again how lucky she was to live in Thunder Mountain.
Yet, even given all the benefits of residing in a small town, there were also drawbacks.
The produce down at Western Drug and General was rarely fresh, given the trucking times—especially in the winter when the roads made travel treacherous. Thank goodness for summer gardens. Her mind drifted to people who knew how to preserve the fruit and vegetables they grew. And to Diane’s canned rhubarb.
Unlike metropolitan areas, Amazon didn’t deliver overnight—no matter if you were a Prime member or not. There was no Costco, no Walmart, and only one place to buy clothes.
Apricot Lane, the quaint clothing store nestled in the heart of the tiny mountain town, was a charming relic of simpler times. Owned by Patty Guerard and Barb Miller, it exuded warmth and nostalgia, with its weathered wood exterior and flower-filled window boxes. Inside, the cozy shop was neatly organized, with racks of clothes arranged by season and a rustic counter adorned with a vintage cash register.
Though the selection was limited, focusing on practical mountain wear and a handful of consigned hand-knitted items made by the Knit Wits, Apricot Lane was a beloved stop for both locals and visitors alike. The friendly chatter and laughter of Patty and Barb made every visit feel like catching up with old friends.
The worst drawback of living here in Thunder Mountain was the lack of men. Oh, there were men, all right. But no one Lila might find interesting. Unless she wanted to date Albie Barton or Brewster Findley. Uh…no thanks!
Fortunately, Charlie Grace had better luck. The arrival of Nick Thatcher, a production executive with a television show filming nearby, changed everything for her. His charm and ambition instantly caught her attention. What began as a chance encounter quickly blossomed into something much deeper.
Reva was now on her honeymoon in Maui with Kellen Warner, the charismatic musician slash car mechanic. In a matter of months, she’d fallen in love and became a mother.
Watching Reva and Kellen together, Lila couldn’t help but feel hopeful. It was like seeing a fairytale come to life. Lila knew that if anyone deserved this happiness, it was Reva, and she felt privileged to witness her friend find it.
That left her and Capri—still single—still waiting. It was hard not to feel a twinge of envy, but Lila took comfort in knowing that Charlie Grace and Reva finding happiness was proof that love was out there, just waiting for the right moment to find them, too.
Capri’s independent streak might relish remaining single, even into her senior years, but Lila hated the thought of Camille leaving the nest and having to grow old alone.
She hoped there would be someone out there for her again someday.
Of course, she had little time to pursue such things. She barely had time to sleep with all that she was currently juggling.
Lila tossed the bag of trash into the dumpster and headed back inside.
“Yoo-hoo. Anyone here?”
Lila rushed to the front to find Nicola Cavendish holding her miniature Yorkshire terrier, a tiny bundle of energy with a glossy long coat and a bright pink bow perched atop its head. “Oh, Lila. I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, placing her Yorkie into Lila’s arms. “It’s Sweetpea. She’s feeling a bit under the weather,” the woman said with a worried expression.
“Oh? How so?” Lila pulled the tiny animal against her chest and petted her.
“Wooster fed her some bacon off his plate this morning. I’ve told him a thousand times that her little tummy can’t take all that fat. Does he listen?” She shook her head vehemently. “No, he does not. My husband is a pushover and lets her have anything she wants, even ice cream. I tell him over and over he must stop indulging our sweet baby.” She lovingly clutched Sweetpea’s tiny chin. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
Lila held back a grin. “Well, let’s take a look.”
She headed for the exam room in the back with Nicola following at her heels.
Nicola Cavendish had a striking presence, both in appearance and demeanor. Her dark hair was styled into a sleek updo that gave her a touch of old Hollywood glamour. She wore expertly applied makeup, complete with bold lip color and well-defined eyes. Nicola’s attire was always polished, favoring tailored designer suits, statement jewelry, and high heels that clicked confidently against the pavement.
She carried herself with an air of confidence that bordered on theatrical, her laugh a sharp, staccato burst that could be heard across the room. Despite her petite stature, she had a commanding presence, often punctuating her sentences with a dramatic gesture or a raised eyebrow. Nicola’s demeanor was a mix of charm and mischief, her voice dripping with sarcasm or playful banter as she engaged with the townsfolk, effortlessly weaving through conversations with a wry smile, always leaving others curious about what she would say or do next.
Even more, she prided herself on being in the know about every subject.
“I was on social media yesterday and saw that Bear Country will be wrapping up filming their first season soon.” Her face went into a pout. “I really liked hanging out on set. Do you think Charlie Grace has heard any inside scoop about a second season?”
Lila shook her head. “I doubt it.”
“Well, I was thinking maybe since she’s dating the production designer, she might know something,” Nicola prodded.
Lila attempted to brush off the conversation. “If she does, she hasn’t shared it with me.”
“Perhaps you could ask her?” she urged, like a dog unwilling to release its bone.
Lila placed the Yorkie on the table. “I’m glad you brought Sweetpea in,” she said with an exaggerated look of concern.
“Why? Do you think it could be something serious?”
Her diversion ploy did the trick. “Well, it’s too early to tell.”
The examination room was a bright, sterile space, with a stainless-steel table at its center where the Yorkie sat, her tiny paws shifting nervously. Lila, wearing a white lab coat and stethoscope around her neck, approached the little dog with a reassuring smile and gentle words. The Yorkie’s eyes were wide and her ears perked as Lila’s hand gently stroked her back, calming her.
“Let’s check how you’re feeling today,” she said softly, carefully examining Sweetpea’s abdomen for signs of bloating or discomfort. She palpated the belly in gentle, circular motions, observing the dog’s reactions. The little dog squirmed slightly, indicating some discomfort, but allowed the examination to continue.
“See?” Nicola said anxiously. “I knew something was off.”
Lila then took out a stethoscope and listened to the Yorkie’s heart and lungs, noting there were no irregularities in the rhythm or breathing patterns.
Lila looked up from her exam. “Well, I think we’re simply looking at bacon overload, and nothing more.” She gave a knowing nod and explained that too much fatty food could upset a dog’s stomach, leading to indigestion or pancreatitis in severe cases.
“Can you call and tell Wooster that?” Nicola suggested. “He won’t listen to me.”
“Tell you what—I’ll write a script recommending a bland diet for the next few days, along with plenty of water to keep little Sweetpea hydrated. You can show that to Wooster, if you like.” She also advised Nicola to monitor the dog’s condition and return if symptoms like vomiting or diarrhea appeared. With a final pat on the Yorkie’s head and a gentle scratch behind her ears, Lila concluded the examination, ensuring Nicola had all the information needed for a safe recovery.
As they made their way to the waiting room, Nicola turned with a mischievous smile. “By the way, have you heard the latest news?”
Lila sighed inwardly. “No, I haven’t.”
Nicola’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “We have a new visitor in town. And not just any visitor—a celebrity.”
That caught Lila’s attention. “Really? Who is it?” she asked, her tone lifting with curiosity.
But Nicola was already moving toward the counter, her expression coy. Without breaking eye contact, she sat her dog on a nearby chair. Then she opened her purse, retrieved her wallet, and slid out a credit card.
“The woman is very well known in some circles,” Nicola added. Her manicured nails tapped lightly on the counter as she waited for Lila to make out the invoice. The hint of a smile on her lips suggested she was enjoying this game of half-revealed secrets.
Next, she leaned across the counter. In a conspiratorial whisper, she finally spilled. “It’s Roxie Steele.”
Lila met her gaze. “Who?”
Nicola scooped Sweetpea into her arms. “Roxie Steele—the romance author!” Her voice carried a tinge of excitement. “She’s been topping the charts for years.”
She winked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Can you imagine? Our little town, hosting a bestselling author?”
Grabbing her clipboard off the counter, Lila moved for the cash register. “Never heard of her.”
Nicola handed over her credit card. “Oh, c’mon. Every woman in America has heard of Roxie Steele. Her stories are…” She lowered her voice. “ Very sexy. The kind you wouldn’t want Camille reading.”
Narrowing her eyes, Lila studied Nicola’s overly enthusiastic expression. “Roxie Steele, huh? You read her books?” she asked casually, though she already had her suspicions.
Nicola rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand, her Yorkie shifting in her arms. “Me? Please, I don’t have time for that kind of smut,” she said, though her blush and sudden avoidance of eye contact suggested otherwise. “I’m too busy with more...refined reading material,” she added, her voice trailing off with a slightly forced laugh.
Lila suppressed a smirk. It was clear as day that Nicola was lying. She could practically see the romance paperbacks stuffed in the woman’s oversized designer handbag.
She shook her head lightly, pretending to believe her, but she knew that Nicola was the type to devour every steamy chapter when no one was watching.
“What is she doing in Thunder Mountain?” she asked.
“No one knows. All I heard was that she’s staying out at the Teton Trails Guest Ranch.”
Lila nodded absently, her mind already wandering to the idea of Roxie Steele lounging at Charlie Grace’s Teton Trails Guest Ranch, perhaps drafting her next steamy bestseller. She glanced at the pile of veterinary journals on the bookshelf, suddenly feeling that they seemed drier than usual.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to indulge in a little romantic escapism; after all, her love life had been as quiet as the town’s abandoned mining shafts for far too long. A smutty novel could be just the thing to shake things up, even if it was just between the pages.
As Nicola sashayed out the door, her Yorkie in tow, Lila made a mental note to go online and check out Roxie Steele’s latest work. If nothing else, it would give her something to gossip about with her next patient.