to be pleased that he’d deserted her, even for a few minutes. But she didn’t say it. He was obviously out of humor, and it was never wise to push him.
* * *
KEELY STAYED WITH Bailey until he came to and Bentley returned from his call. There was a new emergency, a woman whose champion English springer spaniel was whelping and one of the puppies wouldn’t emerge. Once again, they had to do an emergency surgery to save mother and child.
It was two in the morning before they finished and Keely cleaned up. “Now go home,” Bentley said gently.
“I’ll have to.” She laughed. “I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“No matter what Boone Sinclair says,” he told her, “you did the right thing.” He glanced at Bailey, who was now sleeping peacefully thanks to a painkiller. “I think he’ll do.”
She smiled. Even though Boone had been a pain in the neck, he did love the old dog. She was glad that he wouldn’t have to give up his companion just yet.
She went home, tiptoeing past her mother’s room, and went to bed.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, she worked until noon and then went home to do all the housework that her mother never bothered with. She finished just in time to start supper. By then, her mother was finishing the second whiskey highball and her best friend, Carly, had shown up for supper. Keely, who’d prepared enough just for her mother and herself, had to add potatoes and carrots to her stew to stretch it out. The grocery budget was meager. It took second place to the liquor budget.
It was the same every Saturday night that she was home, Keely thought miserably, hiding her discomfort while she served up a light supper in the dining room. Her mother, Ella, already drunk, was making fun of Keely’s conservative clothing while her best friend, Carly, added her own sarcastic comments to the mix. Both women were in their forties, and highly unconventional. Carly was no beauty, but Ella was. Ella had a lovely face and a good figure, and she used both to good advantage. A list of her past lovers, despite her substance abuse problem, would fill a small notebook. The mischief she caused was one of her favorite sources of amusement. Next to ridiculing Keely, that was. She and Carly considered virtue obsolete. No man, they emphasized, wanted an innocent woman these days. Virginity was a liability to a single woman.
“All you need is a man, Keely.” Carly Blair giggled, hoisting a potent Turkish cigarette to her too-red lips. “A few nights in the sack with an experienced man would take that prudish pout out of your lips.”
“You need to wear makeup,” her mother added, in between sips of her third whiskey highball. “And buy some clothes that don’t look like they came out of a mission thrift shop.”
Keely would have reminded them that she worked with animals in a veterinary clinic, not in an exclusive boutique, and that men were thin on the ground. But it only amused them more if she fought back. She’d learned to keep her head down when she was under fire.
The beef stew she’d had cooking all day in her Crock-Pot was fragrant and thick. She’d made yeast rolls to go with it, and a simple pound cake for dessert. Her efforts were unappreciated. The women hardly noticed what they were eating as they gossiped about a woman they knew in town who was having an affair. Their comments were earthy and embarrassing to Keely.
They knew that, of course; it was why they did it. What the two women didn’t know was that Keely couldn’t sustain a relationship with a boyfriend, much less a lover. She had a secret that she’d never shared with anyone except the doctor who had treated her. It would keep her alone for the rest of her life. She’d made sure that her mother didn’t know what she was hiding. The older woman was bitter and miserable and she loved making a victim of her daughter. Keely’s secret would have been more fodder for her attacks. So Keely kept a good distance between herself and her coldhearted parent.
She wondered often what had become of her father. She’d loved him very much, and she’d thought that he loved her. But he hadn’t been the same since he’d lost his game park. He’d turned to alcohol and then drugs to numb the pain and disappointment. He’d had no way to support himself,