Chapter 1
Faith
Faith Saintsbury fished a Santa-hat-shaped dog biscuit out of the jar and handed it to her patient. Talking to the owner, she said, “If you put the cream on it every morning and night, her rash should clear up within a couple of days.” She peeled off her plastic gloves and dropped them through the garbage hole in the counter.
Little Miss Muffins’s nails scraped against the door as she tried to escape the exam room.
“I’m so sorry.” Mavis, the dog’s owner, scooped her up into her arms and hugged her close. Faith tried not to cringe as Mavis buried her face in the fur and covered the animal in kisses, since she’d just explained that the rash that made Little Miss Muffins whine and scratch was caused by a communicable fungus. Gross.
“No problem.” Faith opened the door for both of them. “As you can see, that happens a lot.” She smiled as she pointed to the bottom half of the door, which was covered in scratch marks. Every January, she and her partner, Johnathan, had an office makeover weekend and touched things up. But it was the fifth of December, and their hard work a year before had long since been scratched away. Johnathan had other ideas for the office, big ones that meant money and time. She just didn’t have it in her to tackle his projects, and she had put him off until after the holidays.
Lately, things around the Friendly Pets Veterinary Clinic had been strained. Faith did her best to ignore the chill in the air that had nothing to do with winter and everything to do with a grumpy partner pouting because he didn’t get his way.
Thank goodness she’d never dated him. Working with a sulking male was hard enough; being married to one would be downright miserable.
“We love seeing Miss Muffins.” She smiled at the pup and waved to the owner as Mavis stopped at the desk to pay for the cream.
“Dr. Saintsbury!” called Jenn, the receptionist.
Faith paused in shutting the door and leaned out. “Yes?” Jenn’s panicked voice had her on alert. They were classified as a pet hospital with emergency services. Which meant she tended some horrifically damaged animals. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, turning on all the parts of her brain that handled crises and shutting off the parts that dealt with billing and other mundane office tasks. She’d be happy if she never had to chart again.
Jenn pointed at the desk phone. “There’s a call for you—it’s urgent.”
“I’ll take it in the back.” She shut the door and jogged to the counter on the other side of the exam rooms. Picking up the receiver, she hit the blinking number 2 button. “This is Dr. Saintsbury, how can I help?”
“Dr. Saintsbury, this is Dr. Calvin from Sleigh Bell County Emergency.”
Faith felt blindly for the barstool somewhere behind her. Her legs fell out from under her with the mention of the town where she’d been born and where she had few happy memories. “Y-yes?”
“Your father has had a massive heart attack. He’s stable at the moment, but …”
It was everything that wasn’t said after the but that had her gripping the front of her scrubs in her free hand. She wasn’t that close to her dad—at all. Didn’t plan to send him a Christmas card. Not that she sent anyone a Christmas cards. Scrooge had it right, as far as she was concerned. “Why are you calling me?”
“Well—” Dr. Calvin seemed taken aback by her question. “Because he asked me to. And quite frankly, ma’am, he might not make it through tomorrow. You’re his only family.”
Like she needed that reminder. She leaned over, the air knocked right out of her. The thing was, even though they weren’t close, he was her dad. Which meant that she should be there if he died.
A hundred times that he should have been there for her—and wasn’t—splashed through her head like roadside slush on the highway, cold and dirty.
She could hang up the phone and go back to work and no one would fault her—not even God. She had every right to be angry and vindictive … okay, maybe not vindictive, but at the very least furious. Was this some kind of deathbed repentance for the old man? Had facing the grave scared him into wanting to be a parent?
Worst of all, the little girl inside of her who longed for Daddy to play tea party wanted to run to him. She wanted to throw her arms