Good Guys Love Dogs Page 3

  He had the kind of striking good looks that turned women’s voices to squeaks.

  “May I help you?” she asked, a little shaken by how much he reminded her of Doug.

  “Your sign said you don’t begin appointments again until three o’clock, but she’s got a briar in her paw,” the man said in an accent so neutral she knew he wasn’t from around here. “Could you take a look?”

  Only then did Colby notice the yellow Lab standing by his side, her right paw suspended in midair. Uncharacteristically rattled, Colby knelt down in front of the dog, smoothing a hand across her back. “What’s her name?”

  “Smidge.”

  She looked up at him, trying not to smile. “Smidge?”

  “She’s my son’s dog. He named her that because she was such a little puppy. You can see that didn’t last.”

  “No, it didn’t.” Colby gently picked up the dog’s paw. She carefully turned it over and pulled the pads back to see where the briar had lodged. It was stuck in the middle, fairly deep. Smidge whimpered.

  “Sorry, girl. Let’s get that out for you.” She stood up and added in a calming voice, “I’m going to put you up here where I can see you now. Easy, girl.”

  She bent over to pick up the dog just as the man leaned forward and said, “I’ll get her.” Their heads collided with a thwunk. Colby saw a few stars. They both stood up and began to apologize at the same time.

  “It’s all right.” Colby held up one hand and rubbed her forehead with the other, amused. “I’ll get her. I’m used to it. Really.”

  The man stepped back, nodding in surrender. She picked up the dog and placed her on the table.

  “Sit, Smidge,” he said in a kind but authoritative voice.

  Smidge sat, still dangling her right paw in front of her and keeping her sorrowful gaze on the man.

  “She’s a little wary of being here,” he said. “She got into a box of hot chocolate once and had to stay at the hospital for a few nights.”

  “It’s okay, Smidge. I’ll fix you up and send you right home.”

  Smidge’s pink tongue lolled to one side.

  “She thanks you,” the man said.

  “I think you’re right.” Colby had a habit of judging people by how they treated their animals. So far, he made the A-list.

  He really didn’t seem anything like Doug. It was just the confidence with which he carried himself, the way his clothes proclaimed him comfortable with status, the fact that he obviously came from a very different place than Keeling Creek. Or maybe the situation with Lena had her making comparisons.

  Focusing on the task, she went to the cabinet behind the table and took out a pair of tweezers and an antibiotic dressing. Holding Smidge’s paw with one hand, she extracted the briar while the man rubbed the dog’s head and kept her calm.

  Colby doused the wound with peroxide. “There,” she said. “I’ll wrap it up and give you an antibiotic for her. We don’t want to let an infection set in. She’ll need to take the entire course.”

  “You’re very good with animals,” the man said. “But then, why wouldn’t you be?” he added, looking embarrassed. “You’re a vet.”

  She smiled and put the tweezers in a jar of disinfectant, saying over her shoulder, “Comes with the territory. She seems to like you pretty well, too.”

  “I can’t do any wrong with Smidge.”

  “That’s the great thing about dogs.” Colby unrolled a package of gauze and snipped off a strip. She began wrapping it around the still-tender paw, her touch light.

  “Wish the same were true of kids,” the man said.

  “You and me both.” She looked up. “You must have a teenager in your house, too.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Don’t tell me you’re old enough to have one yourself.”

  She made sure the gauze was secure and that Smidge couldn’t work it loose too easily. “I’ve been told she’s probably just in a stage, but if it doesn’t pass soon, I’ll look plenty old enough.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “There.” Colby stepped back. “That should take care of it. Keep an eye on it. Change the gauze daily. If you notice any redness, swelling or heat in the paw, bring her in immediately.”

  “I’ll do that.” He lifted the dog down from the table, setting her gently on the floor and patting her head. “Good girl.”

  Smidge looked up, her tail thumping.

  “She should be fine.” Colby wiped her hands on her jacket, annoyed with herself for not letting her gaze quite meet his. She’d been off-kilter since the moment he’d walked in the door.

  “I’m Ian McKinley, by the way.” He stuck out his right hand. “We’ve only been in town for a couple of weeks.”

  “Welcome to Keeling Creek, Mr. McKinley,” she said, gripping his hand with her own and wondering why that name sounded familiar. “I hope you and your family will like it here.”

  “I hope so, too.” He let go of her hand, though his gaze stayed fixed on her for a second longer. He glanced away, then backed toward the door. “Come on, Smidge. Let’s get you home so you can put your paw up for a while.”

  Colby smiled and followed them through the doorway. “Don’t forget to make sure she takes the full seven days’ worth of medicine.”

  “I won’t.” He raised his hand in a wave before stopping at the front desk to pay Stacey, who beamed a thousand-watt smile his way. He took out his wallet and smiled at her, apparently oblivious to the admiration in the young woman’s eyes.

  Colby went into the examining room, wondering about the man and what he was doing in Keeling Creek, the familiarity of his name still nagging at her.

  The door dinged. She waited another second or two to make sure he’d left before she went back out.

  “Incredible or what?” Stacey asked from behind the computer.

  Colby ignored her dreamy-eyed receptionist and went to the door. She watched Ian McKinley get into the same black Mercedes she’d seen at the high school that morning.

  Ah. Ian McKinley was Awesome Luke’s father.

  5

  Colby Williams was the first person Ian McKinley met in Keeling Creek who didn’t look at him as if he’d just stepped out of a flying saucer. She’d been polite but asked none of the questions he’d been getting from almost everyone he met. People were curious. He got that. He was the outsider, after all, in a small town. Very small. He still hadn’t gotten used to that, or to the quietness. Police sirens were background noise in New York City. He couldn’t remember hearing one since he and Luke moved here two weeks ago.

  Flicking on his blinker, Ian turned off Main Street onto 152 and headed out of town.

  So far, Smidge was the only one who had happily adjusted to the move. She loved it here. Her tail had barely stopped wagging since they’d first let her out of the car.

  Luke? Another matter altogether. He hated it here and made no secret of the fact.

  There were times when Ian still couldn’t believe he’d actually packed up everything and left the city. But the night Luke was arrested opened his eyes in a big way. Luke had always been an exemplary student, never got into any trouble. Seeing him in the police station shook Ian to the core, Luke’s accusations of his deliberately not spending time with him the biggest curve of all. It sickened him to think his son had been suffering those kinds of feelings and he hadn’t realized it. After that night, Ian knew only that he wanted to be the father he’d always intended to be.

  Judge Watley Townsend took Luke’s case under advisement, putting him on one year’s probation with the admonition that if he got into similar trouble again, the incident would go on his record. After the hearing, Ian met with the judge in his chambers. Not sure how his request would be received, he said, “Your Honor, with your permission, I’d like to move Luke out of the city for his senior year in high school. I’ve bought a home in a small town in Virginia where he’ll be exposed to a different way of life.”

  The judge peered at him over the rims of
his tortoiseshell glasses and said, “With all due respect, sir, what makes you think Luke’s surroundings will have any effect on his behavior?”

  “I grew up in one of the roughest parts of this city, but when I was about Luke’s age, I spent some time in Virginia at a football camp. Needless to say, things were a little different in that part of the country. It made an impression on me I’ve never forgotten. I realize that temptation exists everywhere, but I believe a change of scenery would be good for my son. And I’ve realized recently that I’ve let my work get in the way of spending as much time with Luke as I should have. I’ve decided to take a one-year leave of absence so I can do that.”

  The judge’s eyebrows rose above his glasses. “You’re a single parent, Mr. McKinley?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  The judge sat for several long moments, thrumming his fingers on the top of his desk. “If you think your time and attention can make a difference in your son’s life and where he goes from here, then I’m not going to stand in your way. I’ll grant permission for him to leave the state under the terms of his probation. But I’ll want him to report to an officer there on a regular basis.”

  If Ian had been pleased by the judge’s response, no one else had been. His partners at CCI were less than thrilled at the prospect of his taking a leave of absence. Rachel even less so. Since they’d been engaged only for a few weeks, she couldn’t believe he wanted to put things on hold for a year. He’d explained to her how important it was to him to try to get his relationship with Luke back on track, but she’d accused him of overreacting, telling him that the situation wasn’t as dire as he perceived it to be. Nevertheless, Ian saw it as a turning point—and he believed it had happened for a reason. Luke was almost a grown man, and Ian felt as if this might be his only chance to right some of his wrongs before the boy moved out on his own.

  When Rachel realized she wouldn’t change his mind, she reluctantly agreed to postpone their wedding plans. He reassured her that nothing would be different between them. Once school ended, he would return to New York and pick up his life where he’d left off. And maybe by then he could mend the rift between him and his son.

  6

  Mabel Atkins waited at the door while Ian parked his car at the rear of the house a few minutes later. “Did they get you all fixed up, Miss Smidge?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “She’ll be fine.” Ian followed his plump, flour-dusted housekeeper into the kitchen.

  “Well, that’s certainly good news,” she said, giving the dog an affectionate pat on the head.

  Ian had known Mabel little more than a week, but he already felt as if he’d known her forever. She made no attempt to hide herself from the world. Blunt and to the point, she took great pride in her work. Although she claimed to have once been more than five feet tall, she now stood an inch or two under that height and frequently complained that she would soon need a step stool to reach the sink. She wore her hair in a kinky perm and had a penchant for chocolate malt balls, which she kept in the cabinet above the stove, high enough to make her think twice about pulling them out.

  Ian spent his first few days in Keeling Creek thinking he’d do everything on his own. He and Luke could manage. But when the laundry started to pile up and the dirty dishes multiplied exponentially, he’d given up and gone in search of a housekeeper.

  They’d been in town less than a week when he’d asked Maude Cutter at Cutter’s Grocery if she knew of anyone who would be interested in the job. She’d said Mabel was just the woman he was looking for. And she’d been right. Mabel fit in as if she’d always been here. She’d taken a firm hand with Luke, too, informing him of kitchen rules on her first day in the house. Luke needed that kind of structure, something Ian hadn’t been around enough to give him.

  Smidge managed an exaggerated limp over to her bowl where Mabel had a dish full of leftover chicken waiting for her. No dog was a bigger ham when a little sympathy could be conjured up.

  “Now if she’ll just stay out of the blackberry bushes,” Ian said.

  “She’s lived in the city all her life,” Mabel replied in the dog’s defense. “Been running around like a wild thing set free since you got here. She’ll learn soon enough.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Ian said doubtfully. Only a few days before, they’d found her in the creek behind the house, hip deep in mud and howling.

  “Did you get to meet Colby?” Mabel asked.

  “Dr. Williams?”

  “Funny as that sounds to me, yes.” The older woman chuckled, stirring the contents of the pot simmering on top of the stove. “Known her since she stood knee-high to a grasshopper. Still can’t believe she’s old enough to be called doctor.”

  “She seemed very good.” Ian opened the refrigerator and took out the pitcher of lemonade Mabel just made that morning.

  Colby Williams didn’t fit his stereotype of a small-town veterinarian. She was attractive. Very attractive, if different from the women he knew in New York. Her style said casual, a blue cotton shirt tucked into slim-fitting Levi’s, her straight blond hair in a ponytail, emphasizing a face with nice cheekbones and expressive green eyes.

  “Even as a little girl, she wanted to be the first female vet in town,” Mabel said. “And she was. We’re lucky to have her.”

  Intrigued, Ian said, “She mentioned having a daughter. How old is she?”

  Mabel ladled out a bowl of soup from the pot on the stove and set it in front of him. “A little younger than Luke, I believe. Colby raised her by herself. Nice kid, so she must have done a good job.”

  “She’s not married?” The question popped out before he even realized he wanted to ask it.

  Mabel turned to look at him, both eyebrows disappearing beneath gray bangs. “As a matter of fact, she’s not.”

  Ian swallowed a spoonful of soup and burned his mouth in the process.

  “Careful there.” Mabel eyed him with a thoughtful look on her face. “It’s hot.”

  “You’re right, it is.” He washed away the sting with the lemonade and wondered at the glint in his housekeeper’s eye. “Good, though.”

  “Glad you like it. After my Thomas was gone, there was just me, and food doesn’t taste nearly as good if you’re not cooking it with someone other than yourself in mind. It’s a real pleasure to have you and Luke to cook for.”

  “Thomas was a lucky man. You’ll spoil us if we’re not careful,” Ian said with a smile. He knew what she meant about eating alone. When Sherry had died, he thought he, too, would die of loneliness. Knowing that the small, helpless infant who was his son needed him had been the one thing that kept him going. Despite what Luke thought, Ian didn’t know what he would have done without him.

  Mabel dropped the soup ladle into the sink and turned to give him an assessing look. “That’s all right by me. I know you said you and Luke would only be here until he finished high school, but if you and Colby happened to hit it off, you might not want to return to the big city.”

  He nearly choked on his soup. Mabel scurried across the kitchen floor, whacking him on the back. “You okay, Mr. McKinley?”

  Once he’d gotten his coughing under control, he nodded and wiped his eyes with his napkin. Not wanting her to get any ideas, he said, “If you remember, Mabel, I mentioned that I recently got engaged.”

  “Oh, yes, you did, didn’t you?” the older woman said with a deadpan expression.

  “She’s coming down this weekend. On Saturday.”

  “I didn’t mean to be making any untoward suggestions, Mr. McKinley,” Mabel said hastily. “And if your intended is planning a visit, then I’d better quit yakking and get this place in tip-top order, hadn’t I?” She left him in the kitchen to finish his soup alone.

  Ian put his dishes in the sink and went out on the front porch of the two-story brick house. Smidge followed him, sprawling on the floor beside him. With his glass of lemonade in one hand, Ian leaned against a porch column noticeably in need of paint and stared
out at the oak trees lining the driveway. Oak Hill was a beautiful place. No denying that. A lot like Tara must have looked to Scarlett after the war.

  Built in the late 1800s, the farm had been used to raise both cattle and horses until a few years ago when it went up for sale and had since become run-down.

  Ian had asked his Manhattan real estate agent to find Luke and him a place in need of some work. The thought of that appealed to him, even though he didn’t own a toolbox and had next to zero experience in carpentry work. Coming here had been his decision, but going from a sixteen-hour workday to a one-year leave of absence felt like being forced to a halt halfway through a marathon. He’d consoled himself with the thought that he might spend part of his time making improvements to the house. He’d also hoped that might be something he and Luke could do together. A common ground.

  The agent found him what he’d been looking for. But photographs of the place didn’t reveal just how much work the farm would require. The barn was in dire need of paint, and a good number of boards needed replacing, as well as the roof. The fields beside and behind the house looked as if they hadn’t been mowed in years. But the house itself was the most daunting of all, with peeling wallpaper, floors in need of refinishing and bathtubs that needed re-sealing. There wasn’t a room that didn’t need something done to it. He definitely had his work cut out for him.

  He heard the school bus in the distance roll to a stop and then move on down the road. A few minutes later, Luke appeared at the top of the driveway, his book bag slung over one shoulder, his baseball cap and loose, baggy clothes marking him as the city kid he was. His expression remained set and unsmiling until he spotted Smidge wobbling across the yard toward him, limping on her bandaged leg.

  Luke looked up at Ian, a worried frown on his face. “What happened to her?”