Meddling Under the Mistletoe

Chapter 1

LINDSEY

“Hey, I need you up front.” My best friend and head vet tech, Kayla, looms in the doorway of my office, her face pinched with concern.

She has a tiny wriggling puppy tucked under her arm like a football.

It’s ten after two the Thursday before Thanksgiving, and I just took a hurried bite of the sandwich I packed for lunch.

“Now?” I ask through a mouthful of ham and cheese.

She motions for me to follow her, and after one more bite, I do. “Your two fifteen is here, and he doesn’t look so good.”

“How old is he? What breed?” I ask, mentally preparing myself for whatever situation I’m about to encounter.

“If I had to guess, he’s a senior citizen,” Kayla says as we push through the door to the reception area. “And human.”

“Huh?”

An older gentleman with gray hair and glasses is clutching his right side.

To his left is a dark-haired guy with his back to me, his broad shoulders causing his flannel shirt to stretch within an inch of its life.

His hand is on the older man’s shoulder, as though he’s trying to comfort him, and a black-and-white border collie stands at his side.

“This is Mr. Phillips,” Kayla says, pointing to the gray-haired man.

“He came in with his new puppy, June Bug” —she holds up the fluffy, wiggly pup the color of a toasted marshmallow— “and started feeling sick. I already called your next two clients and let them know you’ll likely be running a little behind. ”

“It’s Ron,” Mr. Phillips manages, raising his head while Kayla uses her free hand to pick up the ringing phone.

I nod my thanks as I survey the scene.

“I suspect he has a ruptured appendix,” the younger guy says to my sister Lucy, our resident dog groomer, who is standing off to the side with her phone to her ear.

His tone is authoritative but kind, like this isn’t his first rodeo.

“He’s having severe pain in his lower right quadrant, and he definitely has a fever. ”

Lucy repeats what he told her into the phone, presumably to a 911 dispatcher, before covering the receiver with her hand. “They’re five minutes out.”

I nod and shift my attention to the ailing gentleman in front of me. “Ron, I’m Dr. Haggerty,” I introduce myself as I approach him and pull my stethoscope from my neck. “Mind if I have a listen?”

“This is quite embarrassing,” Ron says. “I’m so sorry, hon.”

I place a gentle hand on his back. Ron appears to be about the age my father was when he passed, and that fact alone heightens my concern.

“Don’t be. I promise, we’ve seen it all here.

” I hold up my stethoscope and square my shoulders in a meek attempt at appearing more confident than I am.

I don’t often use my medical skills on humans.

Though there was that one time when Kerry Winstead’s water broke while I was at her farm doing a check on her pig, Steve.

It took me half an hour to convince her she hadn’t just peed her pants when she sneezed and was, in fact, in labor.

“May I?” I ask Ron.

He nods, sweat dripping from his brow. “Of course.”

I place the drum against his chest and listen to the thump, thump, thump of Ron’s heart. It’s much faster than it should be.

“He’s tachycardic,” I say to Lucy, who relays my words into the phone.

“It’s probably because of the pain he’s in,” says the dark-haired guy who’s been directing Lucy.

I see his face for the first time, and my own heart begins to beat out of rhythm.

His dark hair is tousled as though he just ran his fingers through it, and he has the sweetest smile that causes the skin around his eyes to crinkle.

“Sorry—I’m Oliver. Your two thirty. Well, Ace is.

” He gestures to the stoic dog at his side before placing a gentle hand on Ron’s shoulder. “And Ron here is my neighbor.”

“Good thing you two came together,” I say.

Ron shakes his head. “We didn’t, but I sure got lucky running into him. He knew exactly what was wrong.”

“I’m a Firefighter EMT,” Oliver explains as he grabs some tissues from the box on the desk and dabs at the perspiration on Ron’s face. My heart squeezes at the gesture.

I blink, peering up at his strong jaw and the faint scar above his upper lip.

My mind runs rampant with the possibilities of all the dangerous, brave things he might have done to get that scar.

Falling while saving a baby from a burning building.

Taking a plank to the face as he pulled a terrified family’s golden retriever to safety before their home collapsed in a heap of fiery rubble.

Or maybe he slipped on a ladder while rescuing someone from a third-floor balcony.

“The ambulance will be here any minute now,” Lucy says as she joins us, snapping me back to reality.

Get it together, Lindsey. Seriously. You’re a professional.

“I can’t go to the hospital.” The color in Ron’s face surpasses white and goes straight to gray. “Who will take care of June Bug? I live alone. I don’t have family here. She’s only eleven weeks old.”

“Don’t worry,” Oliver says. “We’ll figure something ou—”

“I’ll take her,” I blurt without a second thought.

“Are you sure?” Ron winces, his breathing ragged. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not,” I promise. “You focus on taking care of yourself. I’ll handle the rest. Call us the second you’re better, and we’ll have June Bug ready to go home with you.”

“I’ll even give her a bath before you pick her up so she’s all snuggly and fresh.” Lucy smiles as June Bug whines and squirms in Kayla’s arms.

“That’s a hell of an offer, don’t you think, Ron?” Oliver touches his shoulder and gives him a warm smile.

“We’ll take good care of her,” I say.

The sound of sirens in the distance grows louder as the ambulance pulls into our parking lot.

Ron gives a reluctant nod. “Let me pay you now, though, for the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. We want to help,” I say, and Lucy nods in agreement. “I’ll give her a full exam today to make sure she’s healthy, and we’ll get her up-to-date on her shots. You just call us when you get settled, and we’ll go from there, okay?”

Ron looks to where June Bug twirls like an angry tornado in Kayla’s grasp. “I suppose if someone’s going to watch your pup, there’s no one better than the vet.”

The front door chimes as the paramedics wheel in a stretcher.

“Rookie,” one of them says when she sees Oliver. “What are you doing here? I thought you were off today?” She has on a City of Loving Fire Department shirt and her auburn hair is in a tight bun.

“You picked a good day too,” the guy guiding the other end of the gurney says. “Chief tried a new recipe at lunch today. Another one of his Pinterest creations. There was some kind of questionable fish involved. If you’re the only person on duty tomorrow, you’ll know why.”

Oliver wrinkles his nose before helping ease Ron onto the stretcher. “Ron, these are my colleagues, Helen Gibson and Gabe Martinez. They’ll take good care of you.”

“Yes, we will,” Helen says.

I grab a business card from the holder on the front desk and quickly scrawl my cell number on it. “This has the clinic number, and I’ve written mine on here as well. You call us when you can.”

“Thanks, Doc. Thanks for taking care of Junie for me. She can be a bit of a handful.” As Ron places his hand on mine, I become acutely aware of Oliver’s gaze lingering on me as he steps toward the reception desk.

“She’s going to be just fine,” I say, giving Ron’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, animals are kind of my thing.”

He gives me a weak smile as the paramedics begin asking questions about his symptoms and check his vitals. We give them room to do their workup, answering questions when asked. Moments later, I hold the door as they wheel him out.

“I’ll see you soon, June Bug,” he calls out as they roll him away.

“Poor guy.” Lucy frowns as I shut the door behind him. She makes her way over to where Kayla stands with the puppy and leans down to allow June Bug to lick her nose.

“He’s fortunate it happened while he was here, living alone and all,” Oliver says, leaning against the counter.

“I’d say we were pretty lucky you were here too.” I smile, stepping closer to him. “Rookie.”

His gaze drops to the floor as he waves off the compliment, knocking the business cards from their plastic holder in the process, sending them scattering across the floor.

Oliver’s cheeks flame, and I have to bite back a grin.

“Sorry about that.” He rakes his hands down his face as he kneels to pick up the pieces of cardstock.

“It’s okay.” I crouch to help him, but he lifts his head at the wrong moment, bonking me in the chin. “Ow.”

“Oh God. I’m sorry. I swear, I’m usually a little more coordinated. If I wasn’t, it’d be a bit of a job hazard.”

“Really, it’s fine.” I rub my hand over my chin and join him on the floor. My fingers brush his as we reach for the same card, and a spark of electricity zips through me.

He raises his eyes to meet mine. “It was nice of you to take care of Ron’s pup like that. Can I at least contribute to the cost of boarding her?”

I shake my head. The simple fact that he wants to help makes my insides turn to mush. “We’re just doing what anyone would do. It’s a small town. We take care of each other.”

“I see that,” he replies as we stand. He returns the remaining cards to their home on the counter, pocketing the one on top.

“I better hold onto one of these. Ace and I just moved here a couple months ago.” The sweet drip of his southern drawl melts like hot fudge on a sundae.

“That’s why we’re here. Need to get this old boy established with a good vet. ”

Ace stirs at Oliver’s side as though balking at being called old.

“Well, my sister is the best vet around.” Lucy beams.

“I don’t doubt that one bit,” Oliver says, not taking his eyes off me, and now I’m the one blushing.

I clasp my hands together. “Well, what do you say we get you in an exam room and check for ticks?”