A Time To Mend. Angela Hunt

aversion, even disgust…

      But she’d honestly hate him if he didn’t help her now. One look in her eyes had convinced him that the dog, mutt or not, was precious to her. And if she hated Jonah, she’d want to destroy him. It’d be only a few months before he was adding yet another hospital to his résumé.

      “Please, Doctor. Will you help him?” If Jonah had any doubts, they vanished when Jacquelyn spoke in the fragile and shaking voice he’d heard a thousand times from his patients.

      Ignoring the flustered paramedics, he knelt to examine the animal.

      “What happened?” he asked, lifting one of the dog’s eyelids. The jowls at the sides of the animal’s mouth had swollen, and the dog seemed to have difficulty drawing breath. Jonah abruptly brought his hand through the dog’s line of vision and noted that the animal’s blink reflex had slowed to almost nothing.

      “I can’t see any puncture wounds,” Jacquelyn said, her voice choked with urgency and rising panic.

      Jonah gently lifted the swollen jowls and peered into the dog’s mouth. A layer of white foam covered the teeth and gums, but after wiping the substance away he observed tiny red blisters flaring angrily along the pink flesh.

      “I’d say the dog got into a nest,” he said, gently lowering the animal’s head. “Wasps or bees. This is probably an allergic reaction.”

      “Allergies?” Jacquelyn looked at him with blank eyes. “But…that can be fatal! If his esophagus closes up—”

      Jonah looked up at the red-faced ambulance driver. “Take us to the E.R.,” he said, pulling his wallet and ID from the pocket of his shorts. “I’m Dr. Jonah Martin. I’ll be responsible.”

      “No way.” The driver planted his feet and crossed his arms, well aware that at least a hundred curious potential letter writers had gathered to watch the spectacle. “I am not running a canine to the hospital. Call a vet.”

      “Look, you have to return to the hospital anyway,” Jonah pointed out. “Why not take us along for the ride? I’ll take full responsibility.”

      “I am not—” the man paused for emphasis “—pulling up into my parking lot before my boss with a canine on my gurney. No way.”

      “If you don’t take this dog somewhere,” Jonah lowered his voice, “it may die. Do you want that on your conscience?”

      He had spoken quietly, but the crowd heard. “Give the dog a break, man!” someone called.

      “Have a heart!”

      “Ain’t you got a dog of your own?”

      The driver fidgeted uncomfortably. “It still isn’t right. I’ll be in major trouble if I take a canine anywhere near the E.R.”

      “You can take him to my office.” Jonah bent to help Jacquelyn lift the dog onto the gurney. “I’ll tend him there. And I’ll cover the bill for this run.”

      Bowing to Jonah’s logic and public pressure, the driver threw his hands up and went to the front of the vehicle. The second paramedic helped Jacquelyn and Jonah load the gurney into the truck, then he waved to the crowd and went to the front of the ambulance. Obviously neither paramedic was going to risk his job by taking care of a sick animal.

      Jonah turned to Jacquelyn. “I’ll have to ride along to let them in the building,” he said, watching the play of emotions on her lovely face. He’d never seen such a depth of caring in her eyes—not even with her most troubled patients. “I suppose you’ll want to follow later with your friend.”

      “I won’t leave Bailey,” Jacquelyn said, hopping up into the ambulance beside the gurney.

      “I’ll follow in the car after I gather our things,” the boyfriend called, backing away from the ambulance. Before Jonah could climb in and pull the double doors closed, he had disappeared.

      But he’d said our things.

      As the ambulance pulled out, Jacquelyn leaned forward and crooned to the animal on the stretcher. “It’s okay, baby dog. Mama’s right here.” Surprisingly, the dog whimpered and struggled to nuzzle her hand. Something in the tender exchange caught at Jonah’s heart.

      Enough. Fix the dog up and send them home. And he’d have done his part to keep peace in the office.

      Jonah settled into the rhythm of the swaying ambulance, then motioned to Jacquelyn. “If you hand me that bottle of saline solution behind you, we can start cleaning out his mouth.” He reached for a pair of sterile gloves and snapped them on. “I don’t know how many regulations we’re breaking here today—” He looked up at her and paused, struck by the fine shape of her mouth and the slender column of her throat. When he could speak again, his voice was more subdued. “But I trust this is for a good cause.”

      Jacquelyn did not look up. The fringe of her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks as she monitored the dog’s breathing and reached for the saline. “Yes, Doctor, it is. If you have a dog, I’m sure you understand.”

      Jonah leaned over the animal, his jaw tightening. “I don’t have a dog. I live alone.”

      She did look at him then, and in her expressive eyes he saw mingled tenderness and pity. “Well, I’m sure you’ve loved a dog sometime. And you know we dog people would do just about anything for our animals.”

      He lifted a brow and looked back down at his patient, gingerly running a gloved finger around the inside of the dog’s jowl to check for any abrasions or lumps. “He won’t bite me, will he?”

      “No,” Jacquelyn answered, taking the animal’s massive head into her hands. She cast Jonah an inquisitive look. “For some reason, I thought you’d have a dog. I kinda figured you were the Chow type. Or maybe a Rottweiler.”

      “No dog, no cat, not even a gerbil,” Jonah answered, absently reaching for her hand. She inhaled sharply at his touch and he ignored her reaction, though the slight contact sent a giddy sense of pleasure through his own senses.

      “If you please, Nurse,” he said, keeping his eyes upon the dog as he moved her hand toward the animal’s muzzle, “would you retract this flap of skin? I need a clear look inside that mouth.”

      “Of course.” Her strong, sure fingers left his and pulled back on the loose jowls. Jonah flipped on the overhead dome lights and peered into the animal’s mouth. A series of red, angry welts glared through a thin layer of whitish foam. His hunch was right. Jacquelyn’s dog had disturbed a nest of insects, probably yellow jackets from the vicious look of things. During his E.R. rotation Jonah had treated a little boy with similar welts.

      “No pets at all?” Jacquelyn made a soft clucking sound as she handed him a square of sterile gauze to wipe the inflamed area. “How do you live? No shoes chewed, no vet bills to pay, no snores waking you in the middle of the night.” Grateful green eyes slanted toward him. “How can you come home to an empty house when you could have unlimited hugs and snuggles?”

      His inner antennae picked up what could have been a not-so-subtle flirtation and he stiffened, instantly on his guard. But she was studying the dog, concentrating on the animal, and after an instant Jonah decided that she meant nothing by the remark. After all, she had been at the park with a man. And if Jonah’s luck was running true to form, he was the last man on earth an intelligent woman like Jacquelyn would ever be drawn to. The women he attracted were like radio stations—anyone could pick them up, especially at night.

      He gently wiped the swollen area, then tossed the soiled gauze toward a trash bin. “I hope my house won’t always be empty.” Now who’s dropping hints? He took pains to keep his eyes on the patient; it wouldn’t be wise to lose himself in Jacquelyn’s emerald gaze.

      “Oh?” Her voice was cool and impersonal. “Planning on getting a pet—or a wife?”

      He lowered the animal’s lip and motioned for her to turn the dog’s head so he could check