Page 65 of Just Best Friends

“Oh, clever.”

“Not that clever. The mayor at the time had just visited a town in Alaska who elected a cat as the mayor and he was gearing up to retire, anyway.”

“Some of that New England ingenuity I keep hearing about?”

“More of a bald-face rip off, really, but it seemed to work. We had an influx of tourists bypassing Pierce for Franklin Notch. Now that Pierce snagged a contract for a made-for-TV Christmas movie, I’m sure the leadership in Franklin Notch will start mining for some more examples of ‘New England ingenuity.’”

“You know, when I accepted this interview, all my classmates warned me how unfriendly the locals are. But I’ve found the place to be pretty warm, considering the weather.”

“It’s a tiny community,” I said, stopping at the entrance to the building. “And you’re filling a much needed role. They’ll welcome you with open arms. Especially here. We’re in a bit of a bind with Whitney moving away.”

“I’ll be honest, Dr. Roberts has made it very clear he doesn’t want me taking this job.”

She had a straightforwardness that made me think she’d fit into the White Mountains just fine.

I dropped my hand from the door and turned to face her. “I don’t entirely blame him. This job takes time away from his practice. And it’s a lot of risk with little reward. We operate on grants and donations and we’ve been lucky to get more funding year after year, but that could go away. When Whitney joined, we didn’t even have a budget for a vet. It’s an underpaid position until we can work up to a full-time salary. But we can provide education and continuing education credits, in addition to a stipend.”

She smiled, undeterred by the lack of money, or at least good at masking her disappointment. I pushed open the door, a wave of warm air hitting me in the face. “Let me introduce you to a few people.”

* * *

Dana would fit in just fine. She leapt in front of me, introducing herself to Addison, our grant writer, and launching into a dozen questions about her job. I didn’t need to say a word before Addison offered to give Dana a tour of the building.

As soon as they walked back to the break room, chatting like old friends, Jim had ambled in. Dana greeted him and talked him into taking her along while he fed the animals and checked the enclosures. With nothing better to do, I finished some paperwork before taking a cup of coffee outside for a break.

“Hey, stranger,” Whitney called as I emerged from the building.

Bundled up in a puffy black jacket, she shuffled over to me, cheeks brilliant red and eyes watery from the cold.

“Hey, I was wondering whether I’d ever see you again.”

She laughed. “I heard you might have found my replacement.”

“We’re trying to trick her into taking the job as we speak. How’s Doug?”

She smiled. “Regretting that he ever proposed to me in the first place. I’ve made him take over most of the wedding planning since I’ve been so busy.”

“And the new job?”

“Boring. The most exciting animal I saw this week was a chameleon. My training is wasted on the coast.”

“What do you think of Dana?” She asked as she climbed up the stairs, lowering her voice.

“I like her. She’s young, fresh out of school, but eager. She wants something more exciting than dogs and cats.”

“And you’ve explained the money?”

“Or the lack thereof? Not in solid numbers, but I warned her.”

Whitney shrugged. “I’ll play up the benefits: flexible schedule, free continuing education, speaking engagements. I’m going to miss those speaking engagements…”

The rescue had paid for Whitney’s training, and soon, she’d earned a reputation for her work. Invitations to speak at conferences had poured in from around the world, and with those speaking engagements had come more donations.

“Me, too. I’m really glad you could come by to talk to her,” I said, patting her shoulder. “We really miss you.”

“I miss you all, too.”

Jim and Dana emerged from the tree line. Dana held a bucket in one hand while Jim carried a pair of fence cutters over his shoulder. They had their heads bowed in conversation until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

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