Hill Country Reunion. Myra Johnson

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Название Hill Country Reunion
Автор произведения Myra Johnson
Жанр Вестерны
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Издательство Вестерны
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me.” She looked hopefully at her assistant. “Any chance—”

      “Uh-uh, no way!” Kimberly held up both hands. “Olivia despises cats.”

      “Yeah, I forgot.” The little dachshund definitely was not cat-friendly.

      “Doc Ingram’s new partner seems really nice. Maybe he could help find them a home.”

      Diana’s lips flattened. She’d already let that idea zip right on past. Too bad it was the only one that made sense. Juniper Bluff wasn’t big enough to have its own animal shelter—the nearest one was over in Fredericksburg—and even so, Diana had no confidence they could find a home for a scrawny mother cat with kittens.

      “Okay, Ms. Matthews, no more stalling.” Pulling a side chair closer, Kimberly plopped down directly in front of Diana. “What are you not telling me about our handsome new small-animal vet?”

      Breath catching in her throat, Diana tipped forward, head in her hands. She was so not ready to relive the worst day of her life.

      Kimberly set her hand on Diana’s shoulder. “Honey, tell me! Did that guy hurt you somehow?”

      Heaving a sigh, Diana straightened. “If effectively ripping out my heart, stomping on it with combat boots and dousing it in hydrochloric acid counts, then yes, he hurt me really, really bad.”

      Kimberly’s mouth fell open. “When? How?”

      Steeling herself, Diana gave her assistant a condensed version of the facts—how her college apartment mate Brooke Willoughby had invited her along on a weekend visit home to Austin. There, she met Brooke’s older brother, Tripp, a veterinary student at Texas A&M. The attraction was immediate, and the more time they spent together, the deeper in love Diana had fallen.

      Until the phone call that ended it all. Tripp had caught her between classes—called her cell phone, of all things! The jerk didn’t even have the nerve to break it to her in person.

      I’m sorry, Di, but...I need to cancel our plans for this weekend.

      Tripp, I’m on my way to an economics test. Can I call you back in an hour?

      He’d paused too long, a warning in itself. I need to say this now. About us. This... A pained swallow. It’s just not working.

      Not working? Her heart had turned stone-cold with dread. What are you telling me?

      I think we need to slow down a bit, maybe take a break. I’m under a lot of pressure with my vet studies and...other things. It’s...complicated.

      “I thought he cared for me the same way,” Diana said, brushing a tear from her cheek. “But I guess I was wrong.”

      Kimberly scowled. “He really used the ‘it’s complicated’ line? Next time he comes in, I will personally lace his coffee with Tabasco sauce.”

      Something between a laugh and a sob burst from Diana’s throat. “Hold that thought. I may still need his help finding homes for these kittens.”

      “Are you sure? Because if a guy had treated me like that, I’d have trouble being in the same county with him, let alone the same room.”

      Diana thought back to the trail ride yesterday and Tripp’s attempt at an apology. He’d seemed sincere, and really, twelve years had passed. Holding a grudge after all this time certainly didn’t speak well of her as a Christian. Besides, if Tripp had been the right guy for her, wouldn’t God have kept them together somehow? As it was, she’d only hurt herself by letting the fear of having her heart broken again shut down every other relationship she’d had a chance for since then.

      Time to put her own words from yesterday into practice and let bygones be bygones. She gathered up her purse and car keys, then hefted the cat box. “The shop’s yours for an hour or two, Kim. I’m headed to the animal clinic.”

      Kimberly followed her to the back door, holding it open as Diana stepped into the alley. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

      “Not in the least.”

      * * *

      On his lunch break at the clinic, Tripp had just set a bowl of chicken-and-rice soup in the microwave when Yolanda peeked in.

      “We have a walk-in,” she said. “Stray cat with newborn kittens. Can you take a look?”

      “Sure.” His next appointment wasn’t until three o’clock anyway, so plenty of time to warm up his soup later.

      Yolanda pointed him to exam room two and handed him a folder. “This client’s a regular—has several pets of her own. If there’s a stray within twenty miles of Juniper Bluff, somehow it finds its way to her.”

      “A real animal lover, huh?” Tripp could relate.

      Then he read the name on the folder tab, and his heart thudded to the pit of his empty stomach. “Diana?”

      “Yes, Diana Matthews. Same gal from Diana’s Donuts.”

      “I know.” Oh, boy, did he!

      The receptionist hesitated, probably confused by the pained look on Tripp’s face. “You need me to stay, or can I go to lunch?”

      “No, go ahead. I’ve got it from here.” Hauling in a breath, he stepped into the exam room. “Hey, Di...ana.”

      Her arched brow said she’d caught his near slip of the tongue. “Thanks for working me in. I didn’t have anyplace else I could take these kitties.”

      Kitties. Tripp couldn’t help grinning at the tender way she spoke the word. Or the compassionate gleam in her eyes as she stroked the purring mother cat. Laying the folder on the counter, he cast an appraising eye over the scrawny mother cat, a yellow tabby who’d obviously been surviving on her own for a while. The kittens, probably not more than two or three days old, looked healthy enough, but unless their mother got better care so she could feed them, they wouldn’t last long.

      “Well?” Diana caressed the mother cat’s ears. “Can you help me with them?”

      “First thing we need to do is get the mother started on some vitamins and quality food.” Stethoscope in his ears, Tripp listened to the cat’s heart and lungs, then gently palpated her from neck to tail for any signs of growths or infection. The worst he found was matted fur and a small cut on one shoulder, probably from a fight.

      The cat wouldn’t like what he had to do next, but he needed to take her temperature, check for worms and take a blood sample. Turned out she was a lot more cooperative than Sue Ellen Jamison’s Siamese. After setting aside the specimens, Tripp jotted some notes in the file. “The initial results will only take a few minutes. Do you mind waiting?”

      “That’s fine.” Diana’s expression remained neutral, but her tone suggested it had taken every ounce of willpower to bring the cats to Tripp.

      With a quick smile, he excused himself and slipped down the hall to the lab. When he returned, he found Diana seated on the padded bench with the cat box in her lap.

      “You get why I can’t keep you,” she murmured as she tenderly stroked the mother cat. “I would if I could—” Noticing Tripp, she straightened abruptly and cleared her throat. “What did you find?”

      “No visible evidence of worms, and no problems I could see from preliminary tests. I’ll have to send samples to our outside lab for a more complete report. That’ll take two or three days.” Tripp came around the exam table and sat down at the other end of the bench. With the tip of one finger, he rubbed a sleeping kitten’s soft, fuzzy belly. “I gather you want help finding homes for these little critters.”

      Lips in a twist, Diana nodded. “Guess you’ve seen from my file that I already have a houseful. To borrow a phrase, there’s no more room at the inn.”

      “You always had a soft heart for animals. Remember the baby squirrel—”

      “It