A Valentine For The Veterinarian. Katie Meyer

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      Unwilling to explore that thought, he finished his tea and stood, the chair scraping against the terrazzo floor.

      Startled by the noise, the kitten leaped onto the table, nearly overturning the china cups.

      “Sorry about that. I’ll get this guy out of your hair and be on my way.” He scooped up the kitten with one hand. “Thanks for checking him out—I didn’t know where else to take him.”

      Cassie stood to escort him out. “What will you do with him now?”

      Good question. One he hadn’t thought through yet. He’d been worried about the little guy making it. “I’ll have to keep him for a few days, I guess, while I ask around, try to find him a home.” Frustrated, he rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Guess I’d better stop and pick up some food for him first.” He nearly groaned with frustration. His tired body was crying out for a bed, but he couldn’t let the little guy starve.

      “The stores won’t even be open for another hour.” Cassie’s eyes went from man to kitten. “I can take him to the office with me, get him fed, wormed and cleaned up, and then you can pick him up before you start your shift tonight. How does that sound?”

      “Like you’re my guardian angel. Thank you.”

      She blushed, the pink accentuating her soft coloring. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for him.” Her firm tone was a contrast to the camaraderie they’d shared in the kitchen. The friendly interlude was over, it seemed.

      “Either way, I appreciate it just the same. What time do you need me to come get him?”

      “The clinic closes at six, so any time before then is fine.”

      He could get a solid stretch of sleep and still have time to get food and the cat before his shift started. Thank heaven for small favors. And the angels who delivered them.

      Cassie had spent way too much time thinking about Alex today. Really, any time thinking about Paradise Isle’s newest lawman was too much. But between Emma’s incessant questions over breakfast and the knowing looks and suggestive remarks from her staff, she’d found her attention forced to him more times than she could count. Not that it took much forcing. The sight of the rough-around-the-edges deputy cuddling an orphaned kitten had triggered something inside her, reminding her she was still a woman, not just a mother and veterinarian.

      She eyed the gray bundle of fur that had triggered today’s chain of events. “You’re a troublemaker, you know that?”

      The kitten in question was currently exploring her office after being evicted from the patient care area by Jillian. “He hates the cage and his crying is getting the other patients upset,” she had said when she’d deposited him on her desk an hour ago.

      Absently, Cassie balled up a piece of paper and tossed it in front of the cat. Thrilled, the tiny predator pounced on it, rolling head over heels in his enthusiasm.

      Once upon a time, she’d been that carefree, that eager to chase adventure. But she’d been knocked down too hard to be willing to risk tumbling end over end again. She almost envied the kitten its bravery. He’d nearly frozen to death last night and yet he still seemed fearless. Meanwhile, she was afraid of her own shadow most days.

      Having her ex leave her had made it hard to trust people, but the aftermath of the car accident she and her father had been in certainly hadn’t helped. Naively, she’d assumed that the drunken deputy who hit her would face jail time, that he would pay for his actions. Instead, he’d gotten what seemed like a slap on the wrist. She’d tried to push for more, pointing out Jack’s obvious alcoholism, but the department had closed ranks around him. According to them, he’d made a simple mistake and she was just stirring up trouble. A few people had even suggested the accident might have been her fault, despite all evidence to the contrary. Logically, she knew they were wrong, but that didn’t make the nightmares or the guilt any better.

      “Hey, Cassie?” Mollie, her friend and the clinic receptionist, spoke over the intercom. “Emma’s here.”

      Cassie glanced at her watch. How was it already five o’ clock? “Send her back and let her know her little friend is still here.” Her daughter had fallen in love with the kitten when she saw it this morning. She’d be thrilled it hadn’t been picked up yet.

      “Mommy!” Her daughter flew into the tiny office, tossing her backpack down to give Cassie a big hug. “Mollie said he’s still here! Where is he?”

      Cassie laughed and pointed to the wastebasket in the corner of the room. “Look behind the trash can. I think he’d hiding back there.”

      Emma, always excited by a new visitor to the clinic, scrambled out of Cassie’s lap to check it out. “Found him!” she whooped, clutching the kitty to her chest.

      “Careful. Don’t squeeze him too hard.”

      “I know that, Mom. I’m not a baby.” The indignation on her little face was better suited to a teenager than a preschooler, but she did have a point. Emma had grown up with foster animals and convalescing pets around the house and knew how to handle them.

      “Well, this one is a bit of a troublemaker, so just be careful.” Even as she gave the warning, the little guy was trying to climb out of Emma’s arms and to scale the mini-blinds over the window. Delighted at his antics, Emma gently untangled him.

      “You sure do get into trouble,” she scolded the kitten. “That should be your name—Trouble.”

      Cassie laughed. “I think you’re right. That’s the perfect name. I’ll have Mollie put that on his chart.”

      “Will the policeman mind that we named the kitten without him?”

      “I’m sure he won’t mind.” Time for a change in subject. “So did you have a good day at school?” Emma had started half days at the preschool affiliated with their church only a few months ago.

      “Oh, yeah! John Baker brought a snake into school today for show-and-tell.”

      “A real snake?” She shivered. There was a reason she hadn’t specialized in exotic medicine, and that reason was snakes. Professionally she knew they were legitimate pets, but personally she found them cringe-worthy.

      Her daughter nodded with glee. “Uh-huh, a baby one. He had stripes and was really pretty. Can we have a snake, too? I’d take really good care of it.”

      “Absolutely not. No snakes.”

      “But you said we could get a pet ages ago and we still don’t have one.” She stuck her lip out in a perfect pout.

      “We will when the time is right.”

      “When will that be?”

      When? When her father was able to work again? When the nightmares went away?

      “Soon.”

      Emma shot her a disbelieving look and went back to snuggling the kitten.

      Great, just one more way she’d let her daughter down.

      Alex had overslept, then cut himself in his hurry to shave and shower. Now he was standing in the pet food section of Paradise’s only grocery store, still bleeding, and confused as heck. Was growth food the same as kitten food? Or should he get the special indoor formula? Or sensitive? What did that even mean, sensitive? And then there were all the hairball options. By the looks of it, half of America’s cats were fighting some kind of hair trauma he had no desire to understand.

      Dabbing again at the cut on his jaw, he decided on the bag marked Growth, mainly because it had a picture of a kitten on the front. That had to be a good sign.

      Taking