Page 53 of Home Hearts Hooves

“She’s there after school, but Dad had someone helping with the bookings and the grooming and helping hold the patients when doing checkups and stuff. Poppy can’t do any of that, and it would be good to have a hand.”

“You’re not just making up needing help?”

“No, seriously, just wait until you see the records. I pulled out the file for Mrs. Patmore’s Cavalier King Charles the other day and the ultrasound scans from Mr. Berret’s horse were inside.”

“I suppose I can help with that.”

“And we have the pig farm checkups on the books next week. Holding those piglets is a real challenge, let me tell ya. I’ll do the catching, of course.”

Skye eats quietly, smiling at his plate. They planned this. I bet they did. But I’ve agreed to it now and I’m nothing if not a man of my word.

“Okay, so who are we going to get to help out around here?” I ask.

Nial immediately pipes up. “The Royals eldest from next door,” he says between chews. “He came around the other day asking if we had any work. They’re still getting everything sorted on the property so his pa is sending the boys off to brush up on their skills.”

“I guess at least he won’t have any excuses for being late,” I say and grab my serving of pie before it’s picked up by one of the others looking for a second helping. “Alright Doc, what time do I start?”

***

I thought driving was going to be difficult, but turns out getting in the car is the hardest part. I end up climbing in the passenger side and sliding my ass along the seat until my left leg is down in the foot well, but my booted right leg is sitting resting up on the seat out at the side. Good thing I’m pretty flexible.

“Yo, Nial, close the door for me, will ya?” I call as he jogs past the truck on his way to start the milking.

“Have fuuuuuun,” he cheers, slamming the door on his way past with a thud.

“Okay, Cuddles, I hope you’re ready for a road trip,” I say, lifting off the sash he’s snuggled in and putting him between my leg and the seatback. He whines a little, then once the car starts, he settles again.

If I knew the roads of Bellerelle were so fucking bumpy, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to this. I’m swerving all over the place, trying to miss the bigger holes on my way toward town and relief washes over me when the dirt road becomes asphalt, and it’s smooth sailing the rest of the way to the clinic.

I pull around back and park beside the clinic van. Only trouble is now I have to figure out a way out of the truck. I get Cuddles all set back up around my neck, then reach for the cane and swing open the driver’s side door.

“Okay, we can do this,” I say, then lift my good leg out and scoot sideways until it’s planted on the ground. The cane is next, and steadying myself on them, I start to hop my way out of the car.

“Mother,” One hop. “Fucker,” Another hop. “Son of a,” Almost out. “Bitch,” I say loudest when my boot is free from the seat and drops onto the edge of the car.

“You okay out here?” Preston asks, and I give it one more hop out, paying attention this time to be sure the boot is kept hovering until I lower it slowly to the ground.

“Totally fine,” I lie, and he nods.

“Okay, well, we’ve got Pickles in for a wash if you think you’re up to it?”

“Pickles?”

“Mrs. Patmore’s Cavalier King Charles. He gets the works every two weeks.”

“And that is?”

“A shampoo, wash, blow dry, brush and nails trimmed.”

“Sounds good, lead the way,” I say and follow him through the back door of the clinic into the wash area. I’ve never been out the back of the clinic. I’ve only ever been to the reception area out front. There was never a need to be out here given all the animals on the ranch are checked on site.

“This place is bigger than it looks,” I say, and he chuckles ahead of me.

“Yep, it’s the Tardis of vet clinics.”

“The what now?”

He turns on his heel, mouth agape and one hand pressed against his chest like I’ve wounded him.

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