Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Noah Reed’s stomach twisted into a knot as he dialed his mother’s number. Dark trees flashed by the window as he waited for her to pick up.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Gloria’s voice was awfully chipper for just shy of five a.m.
“Hi, Mom. You’re up early.”
“I just wanted to make sure everyone was fed and settled before Huckleberry got here. One of the raccoons tried to rip the tail end of a bagel out of my mouth. But enough about that. Are you close?”
Noah bit his lip. “Yes. Can you unlock the medical building for me?”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Is it that bad?” A darkness had come into her voice.
“Yes and no. There was…an incident. But I have a veterinarian with me.”
“How did you manage to find a vet in the middle of the night?”
“I’ll explain later. We’ll be there in three minutes.”
Noah hung up and scrubbed a hand over his eyes.
They burned like he’d spritzed them with lemon juice.
Twelve hours in the truck in the last day, and he still wasn’t home.
He had three commissions due by the end of the week, and Diane in the three-bedroom on Chesterfield had texted him twice about a leaky faucet.
And then, of course, there was the unconscious tiger and extremely bossy veterinarian in the bed of his truck. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. Or maybe ever again.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as they passed the salon on the outskirts of town. How could he have done this? His actions had put the entire town in jeopardy. All because he couldn’t say no.
A glint of moonlight on the metal crate in the rearview mirror caught his eye, and his resolve solidified.
Huckleberry was worth the effort. He deserved to live out his days in safety, maybe even with other pen-mates someday.
He certainly didn’t deserve to be starved by those assholes at Sea Shore Zoo and then euthanized.
Recovery was possible. Noah was sure of it.
What was that sound? He twiddled the knob for the radio until it turned off.
The mysterious, bossy—alleged—vet was singing to the unconscious cat. It sounded like “Dream a Little Dream of Me.” Her voice was bright and clear but gentle. She was peering through the holes of the mangled travel crate.
He shook his head and turned the radio on again to a local hard rock station.
Anger flared. No one had ever spoken to him that way.
She had openly accused him of being incompetent, neglectful, while she stomped over with her mane of red hair and shoes that probably cost more than his truck and took charge of a situation she didn’t have any business being involved in.
Who was she, anyway? She hadn’t even given him her name. She could be any crazy chicken-necker off the street with a bag full of ketamine and blow darts. And the knowledge of how to expertly subdue a tiger.
Okay, she probably was a legitimate vet. But what the hell was a veterinarian with exotic animal experience doing in Aster Hollow? She was staying at the Bay Breeze but driving a U-Haul, so she must have been passing through. Hopefully she left quickly…once they got Huckleberry squared away.
The truck crunched onto the gravel service road that ran through part of the facility. Headlights followed them, and he huffed.
The town was going to be a nightmare of gossip before the sun rose. He’d had no choice but to round up Darryl and Bentley and put a call in to the mayor to initiate a town lockdown. It was a miracle that a news crew hadn’t been called in.
Maybe the circus would drive some much-needed business to Willow Bend. If things didn’t change by the end of the season, there would be impossible decisions to make.
Someone waved outside the medical building—his mother. Red was creeping into the sky behind the dark trees surrounding the property.
He pulled the truck to a stop and hopped out.
His mother shuffled over as quickly as she could, but she was slowing down these days.
Her hip was giving her trouble, and she was definitely headed for a replacement—or she would be if she would ever agree to go to the doctor.
All the more reason why she needed to give up the big house and move next door to him, where he could keep an eye on her.
Damn it, he was supposed to put an offer in today. Another item on the never-ending to-do list.
Doors slammed behind them, and the vet shot a nervous glance at the crate as his friends piled out of Darryl’s truck.
“You must be the mysterious vet.” His mother extended a hand to the woman whose name he still didn’t know. “I’m Gloria.”
“Yes, I’m Alex—uh, Cassie. Pleased to meet you.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. Why had she stumbled over her own name?
“Is that Irish? Alex O’Cassie?” Gloria asked with a glance at the doctor’s red hair. He was too sleep-deprived to discern if she was joking or not.
A flush crept into the woman’s cheeks. With a final glance inside the cage, she jumped down to the ground. “It’s just Cassie.” She turned back to Noah. “Can you grab the tarp again? We need to move him. Quickly.”
A request instead of a demand—sort of. How refreshing.
In minutes, the group had extricated the tiger and placed him safely in the medical building. Noah turned to watch Cassie. Her gaze swept over the space, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head.
It wasn’t anything to write home about—bare-bones, outdated equipment that had been donated by the local veterinarian when he closed up shop six months ago. The visiting vets from Baltimore and DC had usually brought their own setup. Would it be enough to evaluate Huckleberry?
They weighed him on a scale, and a stressed-out looking Cassie administered another medication from her bag. She leaned over to check his lungs with her stethoscope, and he zeroed in on her bare feet. It had rained yesterday, and mud stuck to the soles of her feet. Great, now he’d have to mop.
With help from Bentley, Darryl, and the mayor, they hauled Huck into the isolation enclosure—not a minute too soon, judging by the sudden twitching of his tail.
“What’s the prognosis, Doc?” Gloria asked. She leaned forward to get a better view of the cat.
Cassie took a measured breath. Her expression was cloudy, eyebrows pulled together.
“It’s not great. Huckleberry’s very malnourished.
He’s going to need a very careful diet plan to get him back to a healthy weight.
He’s also going to need someone to follow up and look at his teeth. Do you have a contracted veterinarian?”
Gloria shook her head. “We mostly rely on vets from the cities who volunteer their time. Even our local guy closed up shop in December. It’s a real struggle to find care these days.”
Cassie frowned, seeming to consider her next words carefully. “I’ll be in town for a couple days. I’d be happy to come back and work on a nutrition plan for Huckleberry. Pro bono.”
Noah’s mouth flattened. The bossy vet was sticking around, which was good for the tiger but not for him.
“I can’t thank you enough, Dr. Cassie. We’re so lucky you happened to be passing through. Oh, we’ll give you a tour!” Gloria said. “After you get some rest, of course. Come around four, if you can.”
Cassie smiled. “I’d like that.” She fished a business card out of her bag and handed it over. “If something comes up with Huckleberry in the meantime—signs of severe agitation, nausea, vomiting, that kind of thing—give me a call.”
Gloria squinted and held the card two feet away from her face. She was forever refusing to wear her readers. “Oh, California. That explains the bare feet. Seems a touch unhygienic for a doctor, though.”
His mother had no filter.
Cassie laughed, a bright sound in the dingy medical building. “I don’t usually practice medicine barefoot. There was a high-heel incident. Anyway, I’d better get going.” She looked uncertainly at Noah and pulled her phone out. “Do you guys have Uber here?”
He scoffed. “Get in the truck. But take these first.” He pulled a packet of wipes from a cabinet and nudged a pair of muck boots in her direction. The last thing he needed was to power wash his floor mats because some muddy-footed vet had stomped all over them.