Christmas in Evergreen. Nancy Naigle

VETERINARIAN CARE

      Allie Shaw

      Doctor of Veterinarian Medicine

      Would another vet move in? That would be nice for her patients, but most likely, that wouldn’t happen. The only local student who’d gone to veterinarian school had decided to study abroad in England, and she hadn’t come back.

      In two months, this spot might be a nail salon, or yarn store. Although, she knew the town needed a dentist. Everyone had to travel at least forty miles for dental care. They were getting more and more artists moving to Evergreen. Maybe one of them would take the leap of faith and open a shop here.

      With the B&B opening, they might actually start getting enough overnight tourist traffic to help support something like that.

      The small storefront had been her first big purchase in Evergreen. She’d decided to take her parents up on the offer to live with them for a year to be able to buy it, putting her house hunting on hold after she’d come back from college. It had been a wise decision.

      It wasn’t likely anyone would inquire about the sale of the office space over the Christmas holiday, but it was time to start nailing down the final items on her checklist. This was one less thing to worry about when she got home.

      She stood on the porch, looking down Main Street, as she had done countless times in the past. There were so many memories here. The snow swirled around her, adding a festive sheen to the town and an extra glisten to the garland around every doorframe and window. Street signs and lampposts were done up in red and white ribbons, like giant candy cane treats. Christmas was her favorite time of the year in Evergreen, and this would be the first one she’d ever spent away. Even in her college days, when others went skiing or stayed back at the dorm, she’d always made the trip home. Was she homesick already? She hadn’t even left yet, and she already had that empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

      DC will be pretty, too, she reminded herself.

      Ready to start her adventure, she crossed the street to where she’d parked between her parents’ diner and the post office. “Merry Christmas!” she called out to a neighbor coming out of the bakery. Her phone rang just as she reached her truck and she answered it. “Hey, Henry.” He spoke quickly, sounding panicked, and all she could make out was the word “Buttercup.” “What’s wrong?”

      “Doc. Buttercup is in labor. You have to come quick.”

      “Oh, no. No. No. She’s not due for—”

      “You’ve got to come. Something’s wrong,” he pleaded.

      “Oh, no. Henry, I’m on my way to the airport. Can’t you call Dr. Myers?”

      “I did. He’s over in Montpelier on another emergency.”

      A pang of anxiety hit her. “Oh.” She couldn’t leave Henry in a lurch. If something happened to that cow, she’d never forgive herself.

      “He’ll never make it in time,” Henry explained. “Plus, you know Buttercup. Please. You’ve got to come.”

      She checked her watch. She didn’t have much time. She still needed to stop and say goodbye to her parents, make the drive over to the airport, and get checked in for her flight. Who knew how long the security line would be this afternoon? But Henry had been one of her customers since day one. “Right. Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

      “Thank you, Doc. Thank you.”

      “Bye.” She hung up the phone.

      She couldn’t leave town in good conscience with Henry so upset—understandably so. He’d dumped a fortune in transferring prizewinning Holstein embryos into his old Jersey cows to carry them. He’d spent every last bit of the inheritance from his father on a huge new barn, which he hadn’t even put a pitchfork in yet, and those cows. His whole herd was counting on this upgrade.

      “Oh, man.” She let go of a heavy sigh as she got into the truck.

      She was in a hurry, but when she turned the key, it was clear that her truck wasn’t. Grandpa’s old ’56 Ford was as unpredictable as the Vermont weather in the springtime.

      The truck chug-chug-chugged and cranked, but didn’t start…again. Looking to heaven, she said, “Seriously? I know you don’t want me to leave, but this is getting ridiculous.” She’d never get to the airport at this rate.

      She waited a minute, pressing the gas pedal twice—once because it needed it, and once for good luck. It worked most of the time. She cranked the truck again, but it choked and stuttered like a dying rooster.

      She gave it another try, leaning into the steering wheel like that would help, when a knock on her passenger window startled her. She reached over, stretching to crank the window down. “Hi there?” She didn’t recognize the man or the little girl.

      “Hi. Do you need some help?” the man in the lightweight dress coat asked. He was handsome, with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. The little girl was bundled up in a gray coat with a fur-edged hood. She climbed up on the running board and leaned in the window with a grin.

      “Oh, no,” Allie said, trying to act nonchalant. “It’ll start.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “Eventually.” Embarrassment rose in her cheeks. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. This wouldn’t normally faze her. All it took was a little patience, but today, she was in a hurry.

      The man crossed his fingers. “Wishing you luck.”

      She gave him a “thank you” smile. Frustrated, she twisted the key one more time. The truck started. “Oh!” She snapped her head toward him in surprise, and her jaw dropped. “Hey!” How lucky was that?

      They shared a look of surprise.

      The little girl was beaming, her eyes wide. “Did you do that, Dad?”

      “You know, when I tell the story later, I fully intend to take credit for it, so yes. Let’s say I did.”

      The little girl giggled, pushing her long brown hair over her shoulders.

      Allie loved the banter between father and daughter. “How can I ever thank both of you?”

      “You could direct us to a good place for lunch.”

      “The Chris Kringle Kitchen is right here. It’s the best diner in town, and I’m not just saying that because my folks run it.”

      He leaned further into the window. “Chris Kringle? Kitchen? My goodness. You guys really take Christmas seriously around here, don’t you?”

      “Yes, we sure do. Thanks a lot for your help. Couldn’t have done it without you,” Allie said.

      “Absolutely.” Their eyes connected for a long moment, then he stepped away from the truck. She liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. A real smile.

      “Merry Christmas.” The young girl waved as she climbed down from the running board.

      Allie heart filled with joy from the little girl’s Christmas wish. “Merry Christmas.” That was so sweet of them to stop.

      She watched them walk down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. Through the open window, Allie heard the girl say, “See, Dad? This is what Christmas is supposed to look like.”

      He answered her with, “Florida will look like Christmas, too. Only with palm trees.”

      Allie laughed out loud. She was pretty sure the girl wasn’t going to buy that. Everyone knew Christmas was supposed to be snowy. Florida? Palm trees? No way.

      She piloted her truck away from the curb, passing them just as they walked into Chris Kringle Kitchen. She should’ve told them to try the fish and chips. Dad made the best around.

      At the stop sign, she noticed the Christmas Festival team had also hung the festival sign over the gazebo. She wished she’d told the strangers there’d be carolers there later this afternoon.