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Groomed for Love
Groomed for Love
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Groomed for Love

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Although he grimaced at the thought of venturing there, Noah knew as friendly as Rylie was, she probably lived every free moment on Facebook and Twitter. It didn’t take but seconds before he logged in to his own account—a tedious requirement for him per office policy to make the public feel connected—and typed her name in the search box. Her page came up within seconds.

There was no ignoring the jump in his pulse as he clicked through her photo album, seeing that at her high-school graduation, she’d had waist-length hair. His next thought was that she had a ton of friends, including guys still carrying a crush, and a very proud family, he thought after seeing her parents gaze at her in each photo with love and adoration. Noah would never do the profiles or answer the idiotic questions they asked, but Rylie didn’t seem to have a problem with them. Some, anyway. Actually, she had a contagious sense of humor, he thought, as he caught himself smiling, and then chuckling a few times. At other times, he was left transfixed.

She’d thought about joining Cirque du Soleil before heading for college to become a veterinarian. Being an athlete and cheerleader in high school explained why. In college, she’d continued with the cheerleading and had been the highflier. Noah suspected that’s also what came with being the smallest in the group. Having witnessed her questionable balance, though, he wondered if she’d spent more time on crutches and in slings than on the practice floor.

She loved potatoes and gravy, wildflowers, pears in rum sauce, and confessed to craving steak too much to become a vegetarian. Nevertheless, she vowed she would jump at any chance to be on someone’s fishing boat, and found lightning both terrifying and hypnotic.

Her dislikes were questions about dislikes. She didn’t want to focus on the negative; every day was a new opportunity to her.

Just as you thought, the original optimist—or an eternal kid.

Then why were there secrets in her eyes?

“Good morning!”

Judy Millsap entered, bringing with her the scent of lavender and doughnuts. Since many sheriff’s deputies, bailiffs and clerks passed their open door numerous times a day, Judy liked to bring a box of doughnuts to place by the coffee machine on the counter. Goodwill to all who passed. In her own way, Judy was the older rendition of Rylie—without the impishness—the ambassador of their office. At least Judy was a realist and mostly did it because—as she put it—“You get more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“Morning,” he called back to her. If his heart wasn’t entirely in the greeting, it was because he knew he would now have to get focused on his day job. “Everything okay on your end?”

“It will be after another big mug of caffeine. I was up half the night ridiculously transfixed on listening to coyotes. Say something nice to me before I take off these sunglasses and offend you with the feed bags under my bloodshot eyes.”

“You run the best office in East Texas,” Noah replied, truthfully.

After a moment’s hesitation, Judy slid off the glasses and gave him a pained look. “For an attractive and intelligent man, you are truly clueless, Noah Prescott.”

Startled, Noah sat back in his chair. “What?”

“You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“I just complimented you.”

With the smile of a patient mother, Judy replied, “You complimented what I do. That’s not who I am.”

He groaned inwardly. Women. Surely, Judy didn’t believe the two were separate. Not at this juncture of her life. She had been with the office for over twenty years, and there had been few eight-hour days, even in a small department like theirs.

“Have you been watching old Errol Flynn movies or that Don Juan something or other with Brando and Depp?” he asked, suspicious.

“Don Juan Demarco—as a matter of fact, I did. Last night because that horrible howling does bad things to my imagination. And even though I watched in the living room, would you believe Dwayne said the flickering lights coming down the hall and the audio—though set low—ruined his sleep, too?” From a singsong voice, she went almost feral. “Why couldn’t he just say that he missed having me beside him? You men never say what you mean.”

He thought he had. Noah suggested with more care, “You could always move. Away from the coyote problem, I mean.”

Judy rolled her eyes in disbelief. “You of all people have no business saying anything like that, Noah Prescott. Could you leave Haven Land?”

His first impulse was to remind her that he had done so. Before the accident that left him with responsibility too great to delegate to others. But Judy had lived in Cherokee County her entire life, and had never wanted to go anywhere else. She’d earned her business degree through a combination of the community college, online and via UT Tyler. Nothing wrong with that if it was what you wanted. He, on the other hand, hadn’t felt as though Haven Land soil was somehow intrinsic to his heart and liver function. Fate, though, seemed to be insisting otherwise.

Instead, he said, “I’ll catch the phones while you have your coffee.” With regret, he shut down the Facebook page. He would have gone on to the next idea/source, since he’d learned Rylie was from some small town around Palm Springs, California. Palm Springs gave him the hunch that there was a good reason why she could afford that RV. No wonder she hadn’t been star-blinded by his family name, or his mother’s friends. She had to be used to wealthy clients. That raised the question, what else was she used to?

* * *

“I’m used to a lot, and I’m game to try more.”

Rylie had been armpit-deep into a pregnant cow’s womb often enough not to hesitate trying to help Gage with a pygmy goat having a difficult labor due to tangled kids inside her. It was six hours after closing. She’d been in bed, asleep, for an hour when Doc had called her asking if she was up to helping with the emergency he was coming in to tend to. Now they were in the brightly lit clinic, and Gage had failed to get his big hand in far enough to remedy the problem.

“I know you’re borderline on time,” she added, “and need to do a cesarean soon or risk losing all of them.”

“That’s right,” Gage replied, “and you have the smallest hands, so you’re likely to be the least intrusive for the poor doe. Now we’ll see if you have the dexterity and strength. I’ll give you one try, and then I’m going to be forced to call this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Giving the animal’s owner—Vicky Turner, a longtime customer—a reassuring smile, she went to work, reaching in to feel what Gage had already discovered for himself. “Ah...I see what you mean,” she told him, keeping her eyes closed to rely on the most important sense right now—touch.

“Three, right?”

“Give me a second.” Hoping she was right in separating the twist of legs, Rylie suddenly felt a yielding, and slipped out the first baby, slick and slippery. From the protesting movements, it was apparent this one was alive.

“Great,” Gage said, immediately using a little suction bulb to make sure the mouth and nostrils were clear. “We have one pretty strong boy,” he said, laying the firstborn by the mother’s head.

She immediately set to licking him clean, and Vicky moved to that end of the table to make sure the infant didn’t inadvertently fall or get knocked off the table.

“He’s probably the biggest, so maybe the others will be easier.” Rylie reached in again. Sure enough, while the puzzle of body parts continued, she was able to pull out a second baby in half the time. “Hurry, take this one,” she said to Gage. “The next one is acting like this is a sprint to the finish line.”

Gage scooped up that baby and proceeded to give it the same treatment. “Hopefully, that’s it,” he said. “Mama’s wide, but not a big girl herself. Isn’t three her standard, Vicky?”

“No, this is Wink’s third litter, Doc. While she had three her first time, she had four last time,” the anxious woman reminded him.

Sighing, Gage stroked Wink. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to stick with two?”

“Well, Mrs. Turner, I have a feeling that’s what’s going on this time, too,” Rylie said, delving into the womb again. “Why else did a pretty girl like this try to emulate a small aircraft carrier?”

Just as the wife of the grocery-store manager laughed, the third baby emerged. Trying to catch the wet thing was like trying to grab a fish. Thankfully, she managed. This one was about the same size as the second baby. “Looks like we have two girls and a boy,” she announced.

“Excellent. Girls tend to be easier to sell,” the woman replied.

“Better check a last time,” Gage told Rylie. “You’re starting to make a believer out of me.”

Once again, Rylie eased her hand into the mother and gasped. “Oh! There is one more. Poor little thing was pushed way in back.” Rylie grinned as she learned through touch what was happening. “I guess with finally having some room, she’s content to stretch out and enjoy herself for a while.”

“Do you really feel movement?” Mrs. Turner moved the third cleaned baby to the mother’s teats. “It’s not just a birth reflex? I’ve lost a few of the ones that have to struggle for space.”

Gage nodded to Rylie. “Get it out. The sooner we get them all a good dose of colostrum, the better.”

Rylie knew the “first milk” from the mother needed to occur within the first hour of birth to help build immunity. Searching again, she finally got a safe hold and drew it out. As soon as the tiny creature emerged, it started wailing lustily.

“Ha!” Rylie chuckled. “Nothing wrong with her lungs.”

Vicky’s eyes welled and Gage grinned.

“Good job,” he said, automatically making sure the infant’s mouth and nostrils were free of mucus. Then he gave the baby to the mother. “Here you go, Mama. Three girls and a big boy. Wish they gave awards for that.”

Vicky told Rylie, “Thank you for saving me a surgery bill, too. I really appreciate that.”

“You’re very welcome. I was thrilled to assist.” And she was. However, she was also feeling bittersweet, aware that this still wasn’t the same as being the doctor-in-charge making that life-or-death decision whether to do the cesarean or not.

Giving herself a mental shake, she continued to help, until they had all four kids in a carrier kennel in the SUV. Then they put the mother in the second one. Dawn was still hours away as they waved to their happy client while she drove off.

Side by side at the deep stainless-steel double sinks, they soaped up and started scrubbing. Standing on his right, Rylie could feel Gage’s scrutiny.

“I’ll bet you’re ready to crash,” she said. There had been so much overtime lately—and Gage’s schedule had already been virtually nonstop when she’d first arrived in Sweet Springs. “I hope you unwind enough to get a few hours’ sleep. Feel free to add an extra hour. When Roy arrives later this morning, we can split the usual chores between us.”

“What?” Gage protested. “You want me to give up this sleep-deprived look? It’s getting me plenty of sympathy from my bride.”

“I can imagine, but you can’t keep up this pace, so please, please, please, feel free to let me help whenever you want.”

After a short silence, the tall, gentle-mannered man said, “I just can’t keep silent any longer, Rylie. You’re a natural at this. What happened that you couldn’t get through a few more months of school?”

Rylie worried her lower lip, trying to think of another evasive answer to buy herself more time; however, she was growing more and more fond of him—as she was everyone here. That was making it difficult not to be completely forthcoming. In the end she could only offer, “I promise to tell you one day soon, Doc. I’m not hiding anything that will embarrass or upset you. I’m just not ready to talk yet.”

Although he looked disappointed, Gage replied, “Okay. Ask my wife if I have patience. It took a lot of mental fortitude to outlast Brooke’s determination to get back to Dallas and resume her career, not to mention to make her see me as the guy she was going to fall in love with.”

Appreciating the playful note in his voice, Rylie chuckled. “I’m glad she saw the error of her ways.”

“Me, too, since she’s carrying my baby!” Then he grew serious again. “If it helps, all you need to know is that you’re an asset that I don’t want to lose. I’m all the more convinced we need to get you your technician’s certification as soon as possible. How do you feel about that?”

“Wow. I knew you were suggesting that we’d be working toward that, but I thought I needed to prove myself over a sixty-or ninety-day trial period. Thank you, sir!”

“For heaven’s sake, will you please call me Gage?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Unless someone with a badge is present and I need to look like a serious authority figure.”

Rylie nodded, grinning. “That’s not a problem you’ll have to worry about with me.”

“I’m so relieved that you were here,” Gage continued. “As great a helper as Roy had been, his hands aren’t much smaller than mine. Sleep loss aside, I’m also glad this didn’t happen during regular hours when you had a grooming appointment. That’s not to take away from what you’re achieving with your business. I’m aware of the clientele you’re taking from Rusk as a result of word getting out about you.”

“Mrs. Prescott alone saved me plenty on advertising costs.”

“Well, keep it up. I’m working on getting us more help.”

Although she was doing better dealing with the abrupt turn in her career path, Rylie couldn’t ignore a sinking feeling. “Have you settled on anyone yet?” She was aware that he’d talked to a few people, but no one had come in for a tour and meeting yet.

“I’m afraid not. Does that make me seem too particular?”

“Not at all. I can’t imagine having to try to fit personalities and abilities to their best effect.”

“Thanks. You don’t by chance have a twin with your talents? We could use another technician, too.”

Rylie knew her uncle was happy in the reception area and managing the stock and storerooms, but she couldn’t help but wish more for him. “You can’t change Uncle Roy’s mind about working toward his certification?”

Gage shrugged. “He’s willing to help in an emergency, but he said he thought it was time to get some younger help to handle the more physical stuff. I can’t completely regret that—he’s excellent and honest to a fault when it comes to the paperwork side of things.”

“That’s a wonderful compliment, but I can’t help wishing more for him.”

“Well, I’m sure I’m not sharing any secret,” he drawled, “but he feels the same about you.”

Once again she saw how Gage was perfect for this work, and why he was so well liked in the community. He had an ability to at least appear laid-back and able to go with the flow. However, she had seen enough to know he missed nothing and was on top of everything at all times. No wonder he’d had the patience and savvy to outwait and outmaneuver Brooke.

Rylie couldn’t help but eye him with growing affection. “You sure seem happy despite the workload, Doc. Gage. How’s Brooke doing? Any more morning sickness?” He had shared the news about them expecting their first child, and that the baby was due in the late spring.

“No, thank goodness, she’s about done with that, I hope. But she’s starting to look like she might cry every time she goes to the doctor and has to step on the scale. To keep her from obsessing, I’ve locked up the one at home.”

Rylie chuckled. “Now that is being a gentleman.”

“Yeah, well, if she’s carrying a boy, he’s likely to take after me. The sooner she forgives herself for every few ounces she gains, the better for everyone within hearing distance.”

Rylie thought how wonderful it would be to have someone whose every thought was about you. “Have you started thinking of names?” she asked, as they headed toward the back door, where he would lock up.

“A little bit. I got ‘the look’ for suggesting Gager, which I thought was a clever avoidance of Gage Jr. I think we’re narrowing things down to Mitch, short for Mitchell after my grandfather, and she gets to choose if it’s a girl. Her Aunt Marsha never cared for her name and warned her not to do anything nostalgic on her behalf.”


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