Chapter 16
16
L ila stuck her head inside the refrigerator, pulled out the last of the contents—a half-full mayonnaise jar and placed the glass container on the counter with the other items. After adjusting the red bandana on her head, which she wore to catch the few curls that always seemed to work their way loose, she dipped her rubber-gloved hand in the bucket of sudsy water and rung out the rag, then tackled wiping down the shelves with enough force to make the entire fridge shake.
She sighed and her thoughts drifted as she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain. It had been a long day at the clinic, and the last thing she wanted was to spend her evening cleaning out the refrigerator. But it needed to be done, and if there was one thing she had learned over the years, it was that chores didn’t wait for anyone.
As she worked, her mind wandered to the clinic and the new owner, Whit Calloway. Just thinking about him made her grip the rag tighter. He had waltzed in with his Texan drawl and easy charm, turning her world upside down. Lila had always imagined herself taking over Doc Tillman’s practice one day, not having to answer to someone else, especially not someone like Whit. Even so, she’d tried to be accommodating and helpful. But this new guy was nearly impossible to work with. Every day was a test of her patience as he tried to change everything.
The memory of their recent argument replayed in her mind—one of many they’d had in the past weeks. Whit had suggested reorganizing the clinic’s back room. “I’ve ordered some bigger cabinets for the autoclaves and sterilization equipment, and a new cooler to store our vaccinations. Oh, and I have a new coffee maker on the way. The one we have is—” He made a face. “Ancient.”
Lila had bristled at the implication that the way things were run in the clinic wasn’t good enough. Even if it was true that their coffee maker was about to bite the dust.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the frustration that had settled in her chest. It wasn’t just the changes; it was everything he represented—the upheaval of her plans, the challenge to her authority…and the unsettling way he made her heart race despite herself.
Whit Calloway was the kind of man who commanded attention without even trying, and that infuriated Lila more than she cared to admit. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a rugged handsomeness that seemed to be chiseled by the Texan sun. His short-cropped brown hair framed a face marked by striking blue eyes that could be both disarmingly charming and infuriatingly cocky. The faint stubble on his jaw only added to his appeal, giving him a rough-edged allure that Lila found annoyingly attractive.
Despite her best efforts to focus on his infuriating tendencies—his unsolicited changes to the clinic, his casual confidence—she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her stomach whenever he entered the room. A fact that only made her more determined to keep her guard up around him.
Lila stood, stretching her back, and glanced around the kitchen. She caught sight of a photograph on the counter—a candid shot of her and her late husband, Aaron, taken on one of their many camping trips. She picked it up, tracing Aaron’s smiling face with her finger. He had been her rock, her anchor, and losing him had left a void that nothing seemed to fill. She couldn’t imagine what he’d have to say about all this.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Camille’s cheerful voice called out, “Mom, I’m home!”
Lila smiled, setting the photo back down. “In the kitchen, sweetie!”
Camille bounded in, dropping her backpack on the floor, and peering into the empty refrigerator. “Something bothering you, Mom?”
Lila frowned. “What do you mean? I’m cleaning. This fridge hasn’t been scrubbed in months.”
Camille looked at her with patience. “I know. You always clean when you’re upset.”
“Oh?” Ignoring the accusation, she motioned her daughter over. “Maybe you can help.”
Her daughter made a face. “I’ve got homework.”
Lila parked her hands on her hips. “Well, if you want dinner on time, you’ll need to help me finish this up. You can do homework after we eat.”
Camille sighed. “I guess I can.”
Lila chuckled. “That’s the spirit.” She handed Camille a rag and the two of them worked in companionable silence for a few minutes.
“Mom,” Camille said after a while. “Do you like Dr. Calloway?”
Lila paused, caught off guard by the question. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You just seem different when you talk about him. Like, more...intense.”
Lila sighed, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s a bit complicated. But we’re figuring it out.”
Camille nodded, seeming to accept that answer. “Well, I think he’s kind of nice. And he brought donuts to school for everyone when he did that talk about being a vet.”
Lila grimaced. Now that Doc was retired, she’d hoped she would be the one invited to the school this year. Whit’s arrival was ripping away her aspirations—as modest as they were. She’d had to adjust to the fact she wasn’t taking over the clinic. The least he could do was move out of the way and let her in the spotlight for a moment.
“Everyone really liked what he had to say, Mom. He was so interesting. Some of the girls think he’s cute.”
Lila couldn’t help but smile at that.
Camille dipped her rag in the bucket of warm, sudsy water, then wiped the top shelf. “I think he’s nice.”
“Yeah, he can be nice,” Lila admitted.
Whit did have a way of winning people over. A parade of townspeople had made their way to the clinic over the past two weeks to meet the new veterinarian. The Knit Wits all brought casseroles and homemade canned goods. Nicola Cavendish brought her curiosity. Albie Barton carried a pad and paper with the intent to interview him for a feature in an upcoming issue of the Thunder Mountain Gazette .
Yes, everyone was pleased to have a new resident in Thunder Mountain.
Everyone but her.