To Love Someone (Baytown Boys #14) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,11

onto the floor when he immediately dove in, his long ears dangling all about. Just watching him eat made her feel lighter than she had all day. Her phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. Smiling again, she hit connect.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hi, sweetheart. Your mom was just saying to me that she’d had you on her mind all day long so we decided to call.”

She had no idea how her parents were able to do that. Somehow, across the miles, even when she’d been on the other side of the world, they always seemed to know when she was upset or worried. “As usual, Mom is right.”

“Oh, dear, that sounds like a story. Hang on, let me put you on speaker since your mom’s right here.”

Her father had been a veterinarian in the rural mountains of Virginia for many years. Knowing her parents would understand, she started at the beginning of her day and talked all the way through the events. Neither offered empty platitudes nor did they trash Tom even though they were both irritated that he hadn’t given her more warning. By the end of the conversation, she felt better. Somehow, simply unburdening herself made her feel more in control. Her parents’ knowledge of the business was invaluable.

“Have you thought about a name for your clinic?” her mother asked.

“My staff and I bounced around a couple of ideas this afternoon when we were tired of thinking of everything else. I suppose Collins’ Veterinary Clinic would work.”

“That’s kind of boring, don’t you think?”

Laughing, she leaned over and rubbed Frodo’s ears. “I guess it is. I really haven’t had time to think about it.”

“Well, it might seem silly in light of everything else you have to deal with, but I’d give it some thought. After all, it’s going to be on your sign, your shirts, your logo, your business. Go with something fun!”

“I’ll sleep on it, and we’ll see what I come up with,” she promised. “Thanks for calling, Mom and Dad. I really needed this.”

She fixed a sandwich and grabbed chips and a beer, taking her dinner down to the beach with Frodo bounding along beside her. Smiling, she watched him move along, his nose to the ground, inspecting the area. “Any new smells since last night, boy?”

He looked up, his soulful eyes on her sandwich, and she laughed. “Hey, you had your dinner.”

She sat on the sand and watched the sunset as she munched her dinner and finished her beer. A breeze blew over, lifting her spirits, and she sucked in a deep breath of salt air. Laying back, she watched the clouds catch the orange streaks of setting sunlight. After several minutes, Frodo came over, and she noticed a slight limp. Sitting up, she grabbed his paw, rubbing her fingers around his pads, finding a little sand burr. She pulled it out and rubbed his head. “That’s the story of my life. Taking care of paws.” Thinking of her larger animal clients, she laughed. “Well, hoofs and paws.”

4

Two Months Later

Samantha’s phone rang, jolting her awake. She rolled over, her gaze landing on the time just as she connected the call. Six thirty. It wouldn’t seem that early except she’d been up into the wee hours of the night with an emergency surgery when someone’s beloved pet was hit by the family car. Now, with only three hours of sleep, she answered her phone with more of a yawn than a greeting.

“‘Lo, Sam Collins.”

“Sam, I’m so sorry to call this early in the morning. It’s Lizzie. Lizzie Weston.”

Samantha held the phone with one hand and rubbed her bleary eyes with the other. “Lizzie, what’s wrong?”

“I had a couple of goats get out of their pen and into the pasture. I don’t know what’s happened, but… but… oh, Sam… they’re dead!”

Lizzie’s words had the effect of cold water dousing her, and she tossed off the covers, trying not to step on Frodo as she headed into her bathroom. “Don’t touch anything, and I’ll be right out. Give me about twenty minutes to get there.”

Disconnecting, she blinked a few more times as she stared into the mirror. Her dark brown hair stuck out in a sleep-messy nest around her head. She sighed, dragging a brush through the tresses, taming it into a ponytail. She had neither thick, curly hair nor straight, sleek hair. It wasn’t luxurious or filled with red or blonde highlights. It was just brown. Plain brown. Wavy enough to stick out around her face when she