Page 25 of Run, Run Rudolph
I waited for the glimmer of amusement in her gaze to translate into teasing me.
“A lot of animals and their owners depend on you,” she said, seriously. “Some days, it must feel like it never ends—the things we all need from you. It must take a toll.”
I glanced at her, noting she was watching me with an insightful gaze, like she understood me in a way even my family didn’t. A lot of people believed working with animals was nothing but romantic charm. It was until the sick cat bit you, or the hurt horse lashed out with a well-timed hoof to the shin. Or until you had to help a family assist their beloved pet over the rainbow bridge.
I loved my job, but I loved even more that Tamara could see the whole picture. And that made me miss our old friendship with astounding severity.
Clearing my throat, I tried to keep talking to the deer while I worked, but found myself suddenly tongue-tied and self-conscious in front of the woman I’d always felt most at home around.
“Their noses are interesting,” she said, her tone oddly casual and strangely testing.
“Fur-covered,” I stated, not looking up from my work. She used to ask me for all sorts of facts. Was she over her snit with me, and allowing her curiosity to get the better of her at long last? Because I was a walking encyclopedia of animal facts, and I loved how enthusiastic and interested she’d been about my knowledge. It wasn’t about ego, but something else. A bonding of sorts, I guess. Kindred spirits and all that.
“Not wet like other deer,” I added.
“Why is that?”
A tightness that had been in my chest since her voicemail unspooled and loosened with her follow-up question.
“It helps them with temperature regulation. Did you know that in really cold weather, the blood vessels in their noses can dilate, making them appear reddish or pink?”
“I…didn’t.” Her tone was delighted, just like when she’d been a kid hanging out on the farm as part of Kade’s friend group. It didn’t matter what fact I offered her from veterinarian school, she ate it up. “Does his seem red to you?”
I glanced at the animal’s nose, curious about the odd squeaky lift in her voice. “No. Was he able to walk?”
“But it’s quite cold in here.”
“Apparently, not cold enough. How did you get him in here? Could he walk?”
“Yeah, but his back end didn’t seem right.”
“Did you get a horse trailer?”
“No.”
“Then how did you bring him here?” I couldn’t exactly imagine this big guy riding shotgun in her convertible. The mental image, however, brought a smile to my face. If anyone could pull off something so impossible, it was Tamara. “Lead him on a leash?”
I’d been there a few months ago when she’d borrowed my brother’s truck and trailer to transport Dolly, a retired barrel-racing mare, in from an acreage where she’d been boarded after her landlord, Carl, had moved into a nursing home. When Tamara had started renting this place, she’d offered to bring Dolly back home for Carl, and to take care of her. Honestly, it was a perfect match for all three of them, and I was glad my mom had suggested this place to Tamara.
Maybe she’d borrowed my brother’s trailer again? But then, where was Kade? If he’d let her take his unfamiliar rig out in this storm to move an injured animal, and not helped her, he was going to have some major explaining to do.
“He,” Tamara coughed, cheeks flaming red, “followed me home?”
I could feel my eyebrows settling low at her poorly crafted lie.
She let out a giant sigh. “Fine. He rode in the back seat of my car.”
I said nothing, knowing there was no way this animal had ridden shotgun.
Flustered, Tamara added, “It’s a convertible. He and his antlers fit fine.”
I sat back on my heels, studying Tamara. She was serious. My earlier mental image of the reindeer riding beside her hadn’t been that far off the mark.
I shook my head, dazzled by this woman and the way she continuously caught me off guard. If her story was true, then she was indeed a modern-day Snow White—but without the stepmother trauma—when it came to animals adoring and trusting her. If she wasn’t careful, she’d have a full farm within a matter of months. Which would be a stroke of luck for the animals that found their way to her. Sadly, I didn’t think she could afford it.
I went back to my check-up before craning my neck to look at her again. “You’re serious?”
She nodded, brown eyes wide with apology.
