A Montana Christmas Reunion. Roz Fox Denny

loves doing our Christmas shopping there. Hey, I left a couple of other messages on your desk. The secretary for the Wild Horse Stampede gave me dates and times they need you as the on-duty vet over the Fourth. And a man called but didn’t leave a name. He said he’d seen you back east.”

      Jewell’s bruised heart leaped. Had Saxon looked up her number and phoned?

      “All the guy said was that he was calling from Maryland. He mentioned the storm and said he wanted to make sure you’d driven through it okay.”

      Her heart calmed. “It was probably the owner of the horse farm where I had sperm shipped to Mark Watson. He and his wife were nice folks.”

      “Ah, speaking of the semen straws, Mark got the package. He’ll refrigerate it until you can go plug it into his mare.” Pete laughed. “Better you than me. I hate artificially inseminating any animal.”

      “There are jobs I like better. If that’s all, Pete, I’ll let you get back to doing whatever you were doing before I phoned.”

      “It’s okay. I’m cleaning cages at my clinic.” They shared a laugh, then said goodbye.

      It was full darkness by the time Jewell turned down the lane to her ranch. Just seeing the buildings fanned out in front of her headlights sent warmth trickling through her. Travel was exhausting. Home spelled comfort.

      She stopped outside the garage connecting her house to the barn, which now served as her clinic. All at once she noticed her headlights illuminated an animal cowering behind hydrangea bushes her mom had coaxed to life in the harsh Montana weather. Afraid it might be an injured wolf, Jewell squinted to better see before opening her garage. She had a tranquilizer gun in the barn, but Pete hadn’t left an outside light on there. The animal slowly crawled out from under the bush and she saw it was a puppy.

      She still left her pickup with care. It could have rabies. But the nearer she got, the more clearly she saw it was nothing but a poor bedraggled, half-starved spaniel. Sinking to one knee, she held out a hand. “Here, boy. I won’t hurt you. I don’t see a collar, but maybe you have a chip. First I’ll check for injuries. Then we’ll get you some food, followed by a bath. I’ll bet you’d like to get back to your owner, huh?”

      The pup crept toward her on its belly, crying pitifully. She scooped him up and felt him curl against her in a ball. “Heavens, your ribs are showing. Food comes first.” Cradling him carefully, she hurried to open her clinic. Once the lights were on, she could better see his matted brown-and-white fur.

      She carried him into an exam room that in her parents’ day had been a horse stall and drew a bowl of water. He lapped it down, his big dark eyes showing his gratitude. She stocked all types of animal supplies and at the moment didn’t have other boarders except a goat who’d had surgery before her trip. She didn’t hear him, so Pete had probably discharged him.

      Not wanting the hungry dog to eat too fast, she measured out a short cup of puppy chow. He gobbled it up but sank down without begging for more. “You have manners. Clearly you’re someone’s pet.” Jewell fondled his ears, which would be silky after a bath. She checked for signs of trauma. All she found were cuts on the pads of his feet. “It appears you’ve been out running around awhile. Warm soap and water will do wonders, but it’ll sting these paws. I have salve for after your bath.” She continued to talk because he seemed to like hearing her voice. And ministering to him let her forget the disappointment caused partly by her failure to gain a refuge for the snowy owls and also her lingering sadness for having slept with Saxon when nothing had changed between them. However, the weariness she’d battled earlier fled in the face of caring for the puppy.

      “There, well, don’t you look handsome,” she said after bathing him and toweling dry his curly coat. “I’d say you’re a springer spaniel. That explains why you’re easygoing and affectionate.” She scanned him for a chip and was concerned when she didn’t find one. He licked her chin and wagged his tail, then stared longingly at the empty bowl still sitting on the floor.

      “That’s plain enough. You’re so cute I’m going to take you to my house. I still need to retrieve my suitcase and unpack, but I’ll feed you in the kitchen.” She picked him up along with the bowl and kibble. Going out, she doused the clinic lights and unlocked her house.

      She didn’t own a dog bed. Long ago she’d learned she couldn’t keep every stray dog or cat that landed on her doorstep. But she did have a soft throw rug. And this pup was so cuddly she might buy a dog bed if she didn’t turn up his owner.

      There was no sense naming him until she knew. Attaching a name was like attaching your heart. When she measured out more food and he nudged her fingers with his tongue and gave a happy bark, she experienced a tug in her chest. Heaven knew since walking away from Saxon for the second time, her heart ached. On the drive home she’d dreaded coming into a dark, empty house. The dog changed all that and made homecoming a little better.

      It wasn’t long after she brought in her suitcase that the dog seemed ready to settle for the night. And so was she. He curled right up on the rug she placed by her bed. His soft, whiffling snore soon let her sleep.

      * * *

      SOMETHING BLOWING LIGHTLY in her ear partially woke Jewell. She cracked one eye, saw only gray light and shut it again. More insistent wet kisses nuzzled her cheek. “Stop it, Saxon.” She batted her face with one hand. Then her morning brain connected with what she’d said and she bolted straight up in bed. Blinking, she saw dark puppy eyes gazing adoringly at her. Jewell laughed and her pounding heart fell into normal rhythm. “You stinker. You made me think you’d spend the night on the rug. In fact, you made yourself at home on my bed.”

      The pup yawned and licked her nose with a happy little yip.

      “Okay, I’m awake. Breakfast time. Then you have to go into one of my holding cages in the clinic. I’ll take your picture, make a flyer and distribute it around town.”

      The minute she looked out the window, it was plain her first workday home had opened with a gorgeous sunrise.

      Jewell hummed as she showered. She ate, fed the pup and made a mental list of what she had to do today. In the course of unpacking last night she’d found the business card of Saxon’s agent. Handing it off to Leland would be her first task after she printed up a stack of flyers.

      Two hours later, driving along the lane to Leland’s house, she saw he had two men tilling his fields. Her breath caught. Had he sold his ranch?

      “Hi, Leland,” she said, making herself sound more cheerful than she felt when the old guy answered her knock and stepped out on his porch. “What’s with your fields?”

      “I leased a section to Eddie Four Bear and Aaron Younger. My Realtor says ranches aren’t selling. This way I have lease money coming in and the fields look productive. I assume my nephew didn’t return with you.”

      “No.” Jewell made a face. “My flight was delayed a few days due to a hurricane. I came to give you a card for Saxon’s agent. He’s off on a tour. I left your letter with one of his staff. I’m afraid Saxon’s not coming here,” she said as gently as possible. “If you need anything, call me, please.”

      The old fellow sighed. “I knew it was a long shot. Thanks for the card,” he said and turned away. “I really need to see him. He and I have to talk.”

      Jewell chewed the inside of her cheek. Was his skin more sallow than before she’d left? It must be her imagination, or the lighting. She hadn’t been gone that long.

      After saying goodbye, she spent the morning tacking up flyers about the pup. No one she spoke to had heard anyone say they’d lost a pet.

      * * *

      ALL WEEKEND SHE was kept busy with calls from clients, and she hadn’t found time to phone her friends. But on Monday, Jewell left a ranch and drove to town for her lunch with the Artsy Ladies. Running a bit late, she rushed into the Snowy Owl Café at ten after one.

      Becky, a