Montana Vet. Ann Roth

out, Emily would have to let Taylor do her community service here.

      She wasn’t thrilled about that, but to bring in a new veterinarian, she could definitely put up with a little attitude.

      * * *

      SOME FIFTEEN MINUTES after Seth Pettit ended the irritating phone call with Taylor, he parked his pickup in the driveway of The Wagging Tail. She tried his patience in every way, but he was determined to bring her around.

      The building, a small two-story structure that looked more like a home than an animal shelter, had a big fenced yard and a couple large dog runs.

      Seth didn’t remember a shelter on this side of town. But then, he hadn’t been in Prosperity since just before his eighteenth birthday, some seventeen years ago, when the town had been smaller and less developed.

      Back then, he’d been a kid with a huge chip on his shoulder and a penchant for getting into trouble. He’d resented Sly, his big brother, for trying to rein him in, and had all but ignored Dani, their baby sister. One semester short of graduating high school, he’d dropped out instead. Vowing to never return, he’d left Sly and Dani in his dust.

      Funny how things changed. Karma was a bitch with sharp claws.

      In the almost three weeks since Sly and Taylor had moved here, he’d seen Dani twice and Sly once. The first time the three of them had met after all these years, Seth had dragged Taylor along, Dani had come with her husband, and Sly had brought his wife and two kids. It had been an uncomfortable reunion. Especially with Sly. Dani had quickly forgiven him for staying out of touch all those years. But Sly? Not so much.

      Seth’s fault, and he meant to fix the rift he’d caused. With barely enough money to tide him and Taylor over for a few months, he also needed to get his business up and running pretty quick. Otherwise they’d have to move out of the two-story house he rented. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Taylor had been through a lot and had moved enough, and Seth meant to put down roots right here. The house, a run-down three-bedroom, wasn’t exactly top of the line, but it had the potential. Come spring, the landlord planned to sell it. He’d offered Seth first option to purchase, and Seth wanted badly to take him up on it. For Taylor and him, but also to prove to Sly that his screw-up kid brother hadn’t turned out so bad, and could be responsible for someone else. He had about six months to save up the down payment.

      Last but not least, he had to figure out how to get Taylor to stop hating him. Piece of cake—and the moon was made of sterling silver.

      He headed up the cement walkway to the front door, past a black-and-white The Wagging Tail sign decorated with paw prints. The porch, nothing more than a concrete slab, held a welcome mat, and a hand-lettered sign tacked to the door invited him to come inside.

      Seth wiped his feet and did just that.

      Taylor was sitting on a sagging couch, with a pen in her hand and her head bent over some papers. Surely not homework. Getting her to do that was harder than pulling a decayed tooth from a bad-tempered bull’s mouth.

      She looked up at him and frowned. “I’m not ready to go yet. I need to fill out this application.”

      “Hello to you, too,” he said. “You’re too young to apply for a job.”

      A look of pure resentment darkened her face. “I told you—it’s for community service.”

      There was no point in reminding her that she’d already visited a food bank and a used-clothing collection center and had turned up her nose at both.

      But then, she turned up her nose at everything. For some reason, apparently this place was different.

      The woman sitting behind the front desk was studying him curiously. She was a real knockout—big eyes, an intriguing mouth and wavy, collar-length blond hair that was tucked behind her ears.

      “Hi.” She smiled and stood, tall and long-limbed, and rounded the desk. A hot-pink, feminine blouse framed smallish breasts and hips, and faded jeans showcased long, slender legs. She could’ve been a model.

      A three-legged whippet joined her, tail wagging.

      “I’m Emily Miles, founder of The Wagging Tail. And this is Susannah.” The woman extended her arm.

      “Seth Pettit.”

      They shook hands. Except for a few cursory hugs from Dani, it had been a while since Seth had touched a woman, even in this casual way. Emily had delicate bones and soft, warm skin, and he held on a moment longer than necessary. Blushing, she extracted her hand.

      He turned his attention to the dog, letting her sniff his knuckles in greeting. “Hey, there, Susannah.”

      “Why don’t you come into my office and we’ll talk while Taylor completes her application,” Emily said. “It’s right down the hall.”

      Wondering at that, he shrugged. “Okay. I’ll be back shortly,” he told Taylor.

      She didn’t bother to look up from the application. “Whatever.” The word seemed to be her mantra.

      He followed Emily down a hall, a short distance, but enough for him to check out her fine backside.

      She led him to a windowed room just big enough for a desk, two kitchen-style chairs, a bookcase and filing cabinet and a doggy bed. Papers cluttered the desk, along with the usual computer, printer and phone, and a framed photo of an older woman with the same flirty mouth, smiling up at a man with a thick beard and silvery hair, who looked vaguely familiar. Although Seth had no idea why. Emily’s parents, he guessed. A clock and a dog calendar adorned one wall, and dark red curtains framed the window. That was about it.

      She gestured at the chairs, which were both across from the desk. “Please, sit down.”

      They took seats, Emily nudging a pile of folders to one side, to make room for a lined yellow pad.

      “Taylor tells me that you’re a veterinarian and that you’re new in town,” she said.

      “That’s right. I’m looking to build my business. If you know of a rancher looking for a vet who makes house calls, I’m your man.”

      “If you make house calls, then in no time, you’ll have more business than you can handle,” she said. “How long have you been practicing?”

      “Four years now.”

      Twin lines marred the smooth space between her eyebrows as she moved the pad to her lap and jotted something down. Seth couldn’t see what.

      “And you specialize in large animals?” she asked.

      “Mostly cattle and horses.”

      “Taylor mentioned dogs.”

      “Now and then, but I don’t have a clinic or an office.” At the moment, he couldn’t afford either. But someday...

      More scribbling.

      “What happens if you need a clinic?” she asked.

      “I have an agreement with Prosperity Animal Hospital, on the north side of town.”

      “I know that place.” She jotted that down, too.

      Weird. It almost felt as if she was interviewing him.

      “How does your wife like Prosperity?”

      “I’m not married.” A couple times he’d come close, but nothing had worked out.

      “Oh.” Emily brought her hand to her hair and fiddled with it. “I assumed— Never mind. I didn’t realize there were any ranches in San Diego.”

      The comment puzzled him. “I’m sure there are, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve only been there once or twice, and not for long.”

      Her turn to look confused. “I’m pretty sure Taylor said she was from San Diego.”

      He nodded. “She is.”

      “I