Chapter 21 Elena
Isaw Caleb's truck pull into the parking lot through the window of my office. Tuesday afternoon, no appointment scheduled. That made it three times in two weeks.
He was already at the desk when I came through, Scout sitting calmly at his feet. The puppy had grown, still the quiet one, still watchful, but solid now. All the gangly awkwardness settling into something steady. Like his owner.
"Caleb," I said. "What brings you in?"
"Think he's got an ear infection." He gestured down at Scout. "Keeps shaking his head. Scratching at it."
"Let me take a look."
I led them to exam room two. Daisy, who'd been sleeping under my desk, heard us pass and trotted out to investigate. The moment she saw Scout, her tail started wagging so hard her whole back end moved.
Scout's tail wagged once, then twice, and then the two of them were tangled together in the hallway, gentle wrestling, paws everywhere, pure joy.
"They're a handful," Caleb said.
I felt my mouth twitch. "Yours started it."
"Scout's well-behaved. That's all Daisy."
"Daisy's friendly. There's a difference."
He exhaled through his nose. I was pretty sure that was his version of laughing.
I got both dogs into the exam room and convinced them to settle, Daisy under the bench, Scout on the table. Caleb stood against the wall, arms crossed, watching.
I checked Scout's ear with the otoscope. Red and slightly inflamed, but nothing serious.
"He'll be fine," I said, pulling back. "Bacterial infection, probably from water getting in there. I'll give you drops. Twice a day for a week."
"Appreciate it."
I grabbed the ear cleaner from the cabinet and a bottle of antibiotic drops, wrote quick instructions on the label. When I turned back, Scout was already off the table, nosing at Daisy. The two of them were play-bowing, tails wagging.
I handed Caleb the bottles. "Twice a day. Call if it gets worse."
"Thanks." He took them, his fingers brushing mine briefly. Then he hesitated. Didn't move toward the door.
I looked at him.
There was sawdust on his shoulder, probably from whatever job site he'd come from.
His forearms were tan below his rolled-up sleeves, the muscles there defined in a way that came from work, not a gym.
He had a small scar on his jaw I'd never noticed before, and I found myself wondering how he'd gotten it.
"Appreciate you squeezing me in," he said.
"It's fine. It's what I do."
He nodded but didn't move toward the door. The puppies were circling each other now, Daisy trying to get Scout to chase her.
When I looked back up, Caleb wasn't watching them. He was watching me.
"You know," I said slowly, "you don't have to come in here this often."
His eyebrows pulled together slightly. "The dog needed—"
"I know." I felt my lips move on their own, a tentative smile taking over them. "But this is the third time in two weeks. And the last time it was because he sneezed twice."
He was quiet for a moment. "He sneezed three times."
"Caleb."
"What?"
"You can just ask me for coffee."
His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes did.
"Okay," he said.
I waited.
"Coffee?" he asked.
"Yeah." The word came out easier than I expected. "Coffee sounds good."
"When?"
"Saturday? I'm off at noon."
"Saturday." He nodded once. "I'll pick you up."
"Okay."
He called Scout, clipped on his leash, and headed for the door. Then he stopped and looked back.
"For what it's worth," he said, "the dog really did have an ear infection."
"I know he did."
Something happened to his face that might have been a smile, if you were feeling generous.
Then he left.
I stood there for a moment, Daisy sitting at my feet. Through the window, I watched him load Scout into his truck, and something in my chest felt lighter than it had in a long time.
Saturday, coffee with Caleb.
I could do this.
Lucy appeared in the doorway, all messy bun and cartoon-cat scrubs and barely contained glee. "Did I just hear what I think I heard?"
"I don't know what you think you heard."
"Caleb Wright just asked you out."
"He asked me for coffee."
"Same thing." She was practically bouncing. "You said yes. You actually said yes."
"It's just coffee, Lucy."
"Uh-huh. Sure." She was still grinning as she grabbed her bag from under the desk. "I'm taking my break. Margie should be back in ten. You good covering the front for a bit?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
She left, and I went back to the reception desk. The schedule for tomorrow was pulled up on the computer, a few phone messages waiting to be returned. I sat down and started working through them.
The bell above the door chimed.
I looked up, smiling. "Forget something?"
But it wasn't Caleb, or Lucy, or anyone I was expecting.
Matt was standing just inside the door. In uniform, khaki and navy, badge on his chest, the Millbrook County Sheriff's Department patch on his shoulder. He was holding a manila folder.
My hands went still on the keyboard. For a second, my body forgot what to do with itself.
He looked different. There was something weathered in his face that hadn't been there before, a hardness in his jaw that was new. But his eyes were the same. Dark and careful, seeing too much.
"Sorry," he said in a quiet and measured tone. "I didn't mean to—"
He stopped, cleared his throat.
"I'm here to drop off the rabies reporting forms. Sheriff's office needs the clinic to update quarterly." He held up the folder slightly. "Dr. Whitaker."
I stood up. Had to do something with my hands, with my body, with the sudden tension running through me.
"Right," I said. "The forms. You can leave them on the desk."
He moved forward, three steps, no more, and set the folder down carefully.
"Sheriff Davis said to make sure you have the updated schedule too," he said. "State inspection protocols changed. New requirements for documentation."
I nodded.
He stepped back immediately, giving me space.
Daisy wandered out from the exam room, tail wagging. She went straight to him, sniffing his boots, looking up with that open, trusting expression she gave everyone. He glanced down at her briefly, then back at me.
"I wanted to say…" He stopped, looked down. "I know this is strange. Me being back. I don't want to make things difficult for you. It's just, my mom..."
"I know about your mom." My voice softened despite myself. "Mrs. Patterson told me. I'm sorry, Matt. That's… that’s hard."
Something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
We stood there for a moment. The silence wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Just two people who used to know each other, trying to figure out how to exist in the same small town.
"It's your town too," I said finally. "You don't have to apologize for being here."
He looked at me for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"If you have questions about the forms, you can call the station," he said. "They'll help you out."
"Okay."
"Thanks for your time."
Then he was gone.
I stood there, staring at the folder on the desk. Daisy nudged my hand with her nose, and I crouched down to scratch behind her ears.
"It's fine," I told her. "We're fine."
I wasn't sure which one of us I was trying to convince.
I stood back up, picked up the folder, and got back to work.