against his chest.
“We found this, when we were out walking.” The young man placed the towel on the admissions counter.
“Do you remember where you found it?” the admissions clerk asked. “You need to remember exactly where you found it and put it back.”
Shawn moved forward, but Kylee caught him by the shoulder. She led him around the side, so they could see but not get in the way. In the towel was a small deer, covered in white spots.
“We were in the park...” The young woman looked at the young man. “But I don’t remember where, exactly.”
The woman at the admissions desk frowned. “Momma probably dropped it there. But they come back, once they’ve found food. Fawns know how to hide and stay still, it’s in their DNA.”
“What happens if we don’t put it in the right spot?” the young man asked.
The admissions clerk shook her head. “It’ll starve.”
“Oh.” The young woman was really upset. “I told you we should have left it—”
“There were fire ants,” the young man argued.
“Hold on.” The woman at the counter buzzed, “Dr. Archer to the front, please.”
“What’ll happen?” Shawn whispered.
“Dr. Archer Boone works with all sorts of animals,” the admissions clerk explained, smiling at Shawn. “He has a big ol’ refuge on the Boone Ranch. It’s mostly abandoned or abused horses, but he also takes in local wildlife that need tending. He had a skunk. Oh, and a squirrel. And normally a few fawns on a bottle, too.”
Dr. Archer walked through the swinging doors. He barely acknowledged the people in the room, heading straight for the fawn. This was Fisher’s brother?
Kylee couldn’t help but notice how different Archer was from Fisher. Both were tall, but Fisher was bigger. Fisher was thick and broad—built like a fighter. He was a fighter, that much was clear. Knocking Carson out with one punch without losing his cool...it had been impressive and unnerving all at the same time. She didn’t see Archer doing something like that. Sure, he was fit, but more like a runner. And his face...his face wasn’t as expressive—as warm—as his brother’s. Not that she’d met many men like Fisher Boone.
“Found it?” Dr. Archer asked, seeing their answering nods. “Fire ants?” He lifted the fawn. It made an impressively loud sound, and Shawn covered his ears.
Kylee watched the way Archer assessed the animal. “Donna,” he spoke to the admissions clerk, “have them sign the drop-off form. I’ll go ahead and take it back.”
Donna pulled out a clipboard and pen, offering it to the couple.
“What will happen to it?” Shawn asked.
Archer glanced at Shawn. “We’ll shelter him until he’s ready for release.”
Shawn nodded, his attention bouncing between Dr. Boone and the fawn. She knew what the look on her brother’s face meant. A thousand questions were coming. He started with, “What do you mean? Shelter?”
“Shawn, he’s got work to do,” Kylee said, trying to reel in her little brother and his endless fascination.
“Oh.” Shawn nodded. “Right.”
Dr. Archer almost smiled before he carried the deer into the back. Kylee watched. If it had been Fisher, she suspected he’d have answered all of Shawn’s questions. Chances were he’d have taken Shawn into the back and shown him around. She paused, wondering where the hell that had come from. She had no idea what Fisher would do. And more importantly, she didn’t care.
“Kylee,” Cutter waved her toward the admissions desk. “This is Donna. She’s looking to retire in...?”
“Right before Christmas. Five months, two weeks and about seventy hours,” Donna said, shaking Kylee’s hand. “Cutter said you might be interested in applying for the position?”
“That’d be cool.” Shawn nodded, his blue eyes inspecting the waiting room and check-in desk. “Learn about helping animals and stuff.”
“It is pretty cool.” Donna winked at Shawn before turning back to Kylee. “Money’s not bad. Hours are regular, rarely any overtime—that falls to the student workers who come on in the evenings for emergency duty. You get school holidays, which is nice when you have family.” She winked at Shawn. “It can get a little hairy now and then, but I guess working at the bar you’ve seen it all. Oh, and you get health care and retirement, too. And tuition reimbursement, if you want to go back to school.”
Kylee was speechless. She had no intention of applying for this job. But hearing the laundry list of reasons why she should apply gave her pause. A real job? Health benefits, normal hours, and vacation time with Shawn. She glanced at her brother, who was looking at her. She knew that look, that how-can-you-say-no? look. How could she say no?
She shook her head. She didn’t have a vehicle, for one, and it would be a long walk from the bar to the vet hospital. “I’m not so sure,” she spoke up. “I don’t have much experience with computers. Or animals.”
“I’d train you. It’s not hard—most of the programs are tailored for the school. You just gotta stay on top of things.” Donna shrugged. “And be nice to customers. They’re real uppity about being nice to the customers.”
Which was another problem. Kylee was civil but nice was a stretch.
Shawn snorted. “Never mind.”
Donna and Cutter laughed, too.
“Hey.” But she was smiling, too. “I thought you were on my side.”
“I am.” Shawn stared around the lobby. He was clearly impressed. But then, he hadn’t spent much of his life in a place this interesting—or clean. “You should work here.”
Her gaze followed his, taking in the detailed mural that ran around the top of the waiting room. It was gorgeous, a rainbow of subtly faded colored animals. Between the fish tank and the sliding glass doors into the clinic, there was a light and airy openness. Maybe that was why she felt nervous? The bar was dim and small, easier to hide in. She knew to be on guard and what to look for. But here? Working here would put her on display, front and center. Easy to find, if someone was looking.
“Just in case.” Donna slid several sheets of paper across the counter. “Here’s the application.”
Shawn nudged her until she picked up the papers. “Thanks.”
“Better be gettin’ back,” Cutter interrupted. “Got a bar to run.”
* * *
THE WEEK FLEW BY. Fisher was in charge of the spay clinic on Tuesdays and neuter clinic on Thursdays. Wednesday and Friday classes were followed by afternoon clinical rotations. Every day he checked on Kylee’s sweet-natured stray. The clinic had named him Chance—because he’d been given a second chance. He hadn’t lost the eye, but he had lost most of his ear. His back leg wasn’t broken, but the tissue and skin had been badly damaged. Chance had more stitches than Fisher cared to count. The dog would heal, but his gait would probably always be a little off. All things considering, Fisher was pleased things had turned out so well.
By the time quitting time rolled around Friday, he was glad he didn’t have emergency duty that weekend. His thumb was better, but still tender. And next week he’d need full range of motion to handle Goliath for his post-op visit. He and the giant rottweiler didn’t see eye to eye when it came to who was alpha in the room. It didn’t help that Goliath’s hundred-pound owner spoiled the beast. But it was time to check the damn dog’s pins and he was the only doctor who would still work with him, so resting his thumb was necessary.
Besides, a few days off from the hospital was a good thing. Not that his father would let him sit around and do nothing. Nope, Teddy Boone