avoiding the ranch, aren't you? You just don't want to run into Tyler Corbett.”
They had reached the deserted waiting room. Kara unlocked the heavy glass front door and held it open for her sister. “He doesn't scare me.”
“Oh, no. You just hate each other's guts, that's all.”
Kara frowned. “I don't hate anybody.” She paused, sighed. “Not anymore.”
Waving the bundle of outgoing bills, Susan said, “I'm sending him another notice.”
“I told you not to do that. Mark's job as his foreman is more important than collecting on a bad debt.”
Susan shook her head. “Look, Kara, if Corbett fires Mark because of a bill from you…which he owes, by the way…then he's a bigger fool than I thought. Trust me. I've gotten to know the man since we moved into the house on the ranch. I'm sure he's not vindictive.”
“Humph. I wish I could agree with you. The last time I saw him he avoided me like I was his worst enemy.”
“Hey, that sounds like an answer to a prayer to me,” Susan said. “You didn't want to get stuck making polite conversation with him, did you?”
As always, her sister was the voice of reason. Kara patted her on the shoulder. “No, I guess not. Thanks for reminding me who's in charge of my life. I tend to get caught up in other things and forget.”
“You'll be back on track soon, now that you've started going to church again,” Susan assured her. “You'll see.”
“I suppose so.” She brushed a goodbye kiss on her cheek. “Now get going. I don't want Mark thinking I work you too hard.”
“Right. I'll stop by your place and feed your animals for you. See you in the morning.” As she climbed into her car she called back, “And don't forget to eat dinner!”
“I have a brownie in my desk drawer if I get desperate,” Kara shouted, waving. “I'll be fine.”
Watching her sister drive away, Kara locked the door and leaned against it for a few moments, thinking. Remembering. It had felt right to be back in the church in Hardy again after nearly two years' absence. The congregation had been wonderful. They'd welcomed her with open arms, accepting her as if she'd never been gone.
Kara made a derisive sound. Well, most of them had. The lone dissenter had been Tyler Corbett. They'd both been on their way out of the sanctuary one recent Sunday morning and their glances had met by accident. The brief, intense look he'd given her before turning away could have wilted the beautiful flower arrangement in front of the altar!
Working was Kara's favorite diversion. She often stayed long after the veterinary hospital closed, using her job as an excuse to escape the memories that still lingered in her house. The house she and Alex had shared. As his widow she didn't need all the room the old farm in Peace Valley provided but the place was paid for, so she'd stayed. Truth to tell, until she got her practice back on a more solid financial footing, she couldn't afford to move.
She had briefly considered hiring another large-animal vet to replace Alex, while she continued seeing the dogs, cats and assorted other smaller critters, as before. Then her flighty receptionist had quit and she'd had all she could handle to keep up with the office work, until Susan had arrived in Arkansas and volunteered to step into the job. After that, it had seemed to Kara that the practice was just as it should be and she'd abandoned the idea of adding anyone else to the staff.
She sighed. Looking back, it was easy to see that the Lord had been with her, even in the worst days of her marriage. And He was still looking after her.
“Thank you for everything, Father. Especially for sending Susan,” she whispered.
Looking up at the darkening sky through the window opposite her desk, Kara noted gray clouds across the horizon. Evening storms were common in that part of the Ozarks, especially in the spring, but they could be frightening to some of her overnight patients. The dogs and cats were already anxious because they were separated from their owners. Thunder and lightning only made things worse.
“And thank you, Lord, that I'm still here tonight,” she added, heading for the kennel area. A few kind words or even a mild tranquilizer would make the poor animals' night much easier.
She was petting a mongrel with a broken leg when she heard an echoing thud. Assuming it was the beginnings of thunder, she ignored the noise. Then it came again. Louder this time and accompanied by shouting. Male shouting.
Pausing, she listened. The dogs in the kennel runs had begun to bark but she could still make out a few words. Whoever the man was, he had a pretty colorful vocabulary.
Following the sound of the pounding, Kara stopped at the rear door. It was solid wood, not like the glassed-in front of the animal hospital, so she couldn't see who was making all the racket. Unwilling to unlock the door since she was there alone, she called out, “Who is it?”
“Open up,” the man demanded. “It's an emergency.”
“Go around to the front,” Kara instructed. At least that way she could see who she was dealing with and make a sensible decision about whether or not it would be safe to let him in.
He mumbled something unintelligible, then said, “I was already there once.”
“Well, go there again.”
“I should have known I'd get this kind of treatment from you,” he shouted through the heavy door. “Have a heart. It's raining.”
Kara listened. The staccato sound of drops hitting the metal roof confirmed the man's statement. Since the porch where he now stood was dry, he did have a valid excuse for not wanting to circle the building. When she was in the kennel area she seldom heard anything over the uproar of barking and mewing, so it was highly likely he actually had knocked on the front door, just as he'd claimed. Which meant he was probably harmless.
Still cautious, Kara unlocked the door and opened it wide enough to peek out. Her eyes widened. Tyler Corbett? It couldn't be!
She blinked as she combed a fall of hair back off her forehead with her free hand. It certainly was him. And he looked anything but cordial. His jacket was wet, water was dripping off the brim of his cowboy hat, and his scowl was even more pronounced than it had been the last time they'd met.
“What do you want?” she asked firmly.
“A pepperoni pizza.” His tone was sarcastic. “With extra cheese.”
Kara tried to slam the door. The toe of Tyler's boot stopped it from closing. “I don't like jokes,” she told him. “Now go away.”
“Not till you help this poor dog.”
“What poor dog?” She let the door swing open and stuck her head out far enough to scan the whole porch. “I don't see any dog.”
“He's in here.” Tyler looked down.
Kara's gaze followed his. His arm was bent to support a slight bulge on one side of his jacket. When he lifted the fabric away from his chest, Kara could see the dark, soulful eyes of a floppy-eared, nondescript brown puppy.
“Why didn't you say so?” She quickly threw the door wide-open and ushered him inside. “Follow me. I'll have a look.”
Tyler kicked the door closed behind him, took off his soggy hat and reluctantly trailed her down the hall. He hadn't intended to do more than drop off the pup and go home. If he hadn't thought the dog's condition was critical, he wouldn't have brought it to that particular animal hospital in the first place. And he certainly wouldn't be taking any orders from Kara Shepherd.
She moved lightly, with athletic grace, he noted, watching her precede him. Funny. He'd seen her before but he'd never noticed that. Nor had he seen how long and silky her hair was when it was unbound. He'd also never noticed what a take-charge person she could be. About the only times he'd talked to her was when she'd acted as her husband's assistant during veterinary visits