initial correction and he hadn’t paid any attention to what she’d said after that.
He stroked Charlie’s head with one of those large hands, a gesture so gentle and calming the dog actually began to nuzzle him for more.
Still, Faith felt obligated to warn him. “She’s been known to bite vets. They have to muzzle her to cut her nails or do anything with her tail end.”
“Guess it’s lucky that isn’t the end we need to work on, isn’t it, girl?” he asked Charlie as if Faith were incidental and he and the dog were sharing an inside joke.
Then, still focused on Charlie, he said, “Are you gonna let me take a look in your mouth?”
His voice was so deep and honeyed with persuasion that Faith almost complied herself. As it was, Charlie—who ordinarily barked and howled and snapped and made each visit to a veterinarian an ordeal—made a liar of Faith and repositioned herself to move nearer to Boone as if he were her owner.
“Let’s see what we have here,” he suggested, easing the animal’s jaws apart much as Faith had earlier and with Charlie’s willing cooperation.
It didn’t take more than one glance for him to add, “Yep, that’s a broken tooth, all right.”
Then he did a survey of the rest of the animal’s mouth before letting loose of Charlie’s jaws. Only then did he acknowledge that Faith was there. He returned to petting Charlie, who had now completely gone over to the vet’s side and was leaning against him as she curled contentedly into the bare—and very muscular—forearms of the man.
“She’s broken away most of her upper right molar—that’s the largest tooth in a dog’s mouth and there isn’t enough of it left for me to salvage it. It’ll have to be extracted.”
“How did she do that?”
“I don’t know. She isn’t talking,” he answered.
“I mean, aren’t dogs supposed to have really tough teeth?” she amended, wishing for some of that niceness he seemed to reserve for Charlie.
“They do have really tough teeth,” Boone Pratt confirmed. “But if they get hold of something tougher, their teeth can break just like a human’s.”
“And then the teeth have to be pulled?”
“Not always. Sometimes they can be saved—the same as with people. But not in this case.”
“Can she do without it?”
“She’ll adapt.”
“What does the extraction involve? I’m not sure I have the stomach for holding her down while you pull her tooth,” Faith confessed.
Boone Pratt frowned at her as if she were out of her mind. “I’ll have to call in my tech. We’ll do a full physical exam to make sure Charlie is otherwise healthy, but I don’t see any indications that she isn’t—”
“She is healthy. I had her in for her shots about a month ago. And she’s too active to be sick.”
Again he seemed to ignore her input and continued. “Then Charlie will be anesthetized and I’ll do the extraction. There’s no way it could be done with you just holding her down.”
“She has to be put out?” That seemed extreme.
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have to. But if you’d prefer a second opinion, you can take her somewhere else. Billings has vets I can recommend.”
“I wasn’t doubting you. I just don’t have any experience with this sort of thing. I’ve never even thought about dog dentistry and people aren’t given general anesthetic to pull a tooth,” Faith defended herself.
Boone Pratt said nothing.
Too bad he wasn’t as adept with people as he was with animals.
“And you’ll do it now?” Faith asked.
She hadn’t meant for her gaze to drop to his soiled clothes again when she’d said that. It had been a reflex in response to thinking that while the office was spotless, Boone Pratt was not. And this time it was clear he’d caught the implication.
“Same old Faith,” he said under his breath.
Faith had no idea what that meant. But she didn’t have any doubt it was insulting.
“Excuse me?”
He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her, and acted as if he’d never made the remark.
“I was in the middle of saddle-breaking a horse when you called,” he said, clearly begrudging her the explanation. “While my assistant preps Charlie I’ll run home for a shower. By the time I get back I guarantee I’ll be cleaned up. I may even wash my hands again before I get to work. And wear surgical gloves—we do that here in the land of hayseeds, too,” he added sarcastically.
“The land of hayseeds?” she repeated.
“Isn’t that what you called Northbridge? The reason you couldn’t wait to get the hell out? And now here you are, gracing us with your high-and-mighty, nose-in-the-air presence again. Lucky us.”
Faith knew her eyes were wide as she stared at him but she couldn’t help it. High-and-mighty? Nose-in-the-air? That was what he thought of her?
“Did I say that—the land of hayseeds?” she asked.
“You did.”
“When?”
“High school.”
“High school? You’re mad about something I said over a decade ago that I don’t even remember saying? About Northbridge?”
“Mad? I’m not mad,” he said, again as if she were out of her mind. “I couldn’t care less about you or anything you’ve ever said. I was just letting you know that even if this is only Northbridge, things are still done just the way they are in the big city. All conditions and instruments will be sterile, every precaution will be taken to avoid contamination and infection.”
No matter how much he denied it, he sounded mad and Faith wouldn’t let it go. “Did I do something to you that I don’t remember?”
“No, ma’am, you didn’t,” he said as if he were proud that she’d never had the opportunity. “Now, either you want me to do this procedure or you don’t. What’ll it be?”
Faith didn’t have any concerns that he would treat Charlie well—he was already cradling the dog in his arms and Charlie was lounging there trustingly. In the best interest of her pet, Faith decided she should just try to ignore Boone Pratt’s dislike of her.
“I’d appreciate it if you would do the procedure,” she conceded.
He stepped away from the counter. “I’ll take good care of Charlie and have my assistant call you when the extraction is over to let you know how it went.”
He was dismissing her. So apparently he didn’t intend for her to stay in the office during the procedure.
“And then I’ll be able to come get her and take her home?” Faith asked.
“She’ll need some looking after when she wakes up, so I’d better keep her with me. At least overnight,” Boone Pratt decreed.
“I can look after her,” Faith said. “I do take care of her the rest of the time.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you get your hands dirty,” he said cuttingly. Then, with the arch of one eyebrow, he said, “It’s up to you if you want to deal with post-op.”
Faith honestly wasn’t afraid of whatever post-op entailed. But she also wanted Charlie to have the best care possible and since, afraid or not, she was completely inexperienced at caring for an animal after surgery, it was only