Falling for the Village Vet
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Rachel Dove
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11
CHAPTER ONE
‘I JUST DIDN’T know what to do, Doctor—he’s just not himself. He’s so listless, and he doesn’t eat like he used to.’
Mrs Chan looked mournfully at her beloved other half, who looked back at her glassy-eyed and defeated. This was the hardest part of the job. It took a lot of compassion, a lot of heart, and tact. These were all things, unfortunately, of which this particular doctor was in short supply at the moment. He found himself feeling nothing but irritation towards Mrs Chan; he brushed the feeling aside as best he could most days but he could still feel it there. Bubbling under the surface. He had thought that moving to a brand-new place would have lifted his mood a lot more than it had. He just felt angry and sad in a new place instead. Sure, Puddle Lake was a very pretty village, but he still felt the same as he did in the city. Angry, frustrated. He tried to smile at Mrs Chan, but it came out more like a toothless grimace.
‘The problem, Mrs Chan, is that Gustav here is rather...well, he’s rather fat, isn’t he?’ Mrs Chan’s jaw dropped, but he had started talking now and he needed to get his point across. ‘Now, I don’t want you to misunderstand me, Mrs Chan. I know you love your cat. Unfortunately, he loves his food too, but a cat is incapable of saying no. He doesn’t get onto the scales in the morning and worry about his waistline. If the food is there he will eat it. If he goes round to the neighbours and begs for food, he will eat that too. This is what cats do.’
Mrs Chan was looking decidedly miffed still, but her expression had softened.
‘It’s a common misconception that the giving of treats to pets is love. Sadly, often this is not the case. Dogs, cats, lots of animals need a balanced diet and it is the job of the owner to provide it. What I’m saying, Mrs Chan, is that he needs to stay on his diet food and nothing else. That’s the way to show him love. He’s an active cat but he’s miserable because he can’t move. He wants to lick himself and be able to reach all the parts that he could reach before and no longer can.’ Gustav looked at the vet and meowed mournfully.
It’s okay, buddy, Chris thought. I’ve got your back. Just lay off the treats. Buy a little kitty treadmill.
‘So, what are you saying, Dr Jennings?’
‘Basically, if you love little Gustav here any more with those treats of yours, then he’s likely to run through his nine lives a lot quicker.’
Mrs Chan’s incensed look told him that he’d gone too far, but in truth he would have gone further to stop the woman from feeding the poor feline to death. He did care about the patients he had, even if he was indifferent to everything else.
‘I think we might need to speak to Dr Ingham, instead.’ She looked him up and down, and her expression told him in no uncertain times that his curt words had fallen on deaf ears. ‘Does Cheryl have his number?’
Chris resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The second week on the job, and all but one of his patients had asked the same question. He suddenly missed his old practice, the rapport he’d built up with the families of the animals he’d spent years caring for. It was a different world there, familiar and comfortable. He didn’t have time for this, with his full clinic. He sighed inwardly, focusing back onto Mrs Chan’s disapproving face.
‘I am sure that Dr Ingham would agree with my diagnosis, given that he was the one to put Gustav on the diet food, but you are of course free to get a second opinion. I am afraid, however...’ He wasn’t at all, but he had to at least try to keep up the thin veneer of being polite. Somewhat misunderstood even. ‘Dr Ingham is on vacation at the moment, and he’s not taking calls. Cheryl is of course taking messages, for when he’s back.’ Dr Ezekiel Ingham, the man who had offered Chris the practice here, was probably three sheets to the wind on the cruise ship with his family right now and wouldn’t give a fig about Mrs Chan or Gustav.
Maybe I should have done that, he thought to himself grumpily. Sold up and just travelled, instead of...well, this. ‘I’ll see you and Gustav out, Mrs Chan. You can settle your bill in Reception.’
Gustav was already sitting back in his little carrier, throwing Chris a scowl that matched his owner’s. Mrs Chan huffed, picking up her rather portly cat and giving the vet her dirtiest final look, and left the room. Poor Cheryl. He could already hear Mrs Chan moaning about his bedside manner, and his new receptionist giving out the usual apologetic patter that she had taken to since he arrived. It was all he’d heard. He felt a little guilty, but he couldn’t help his moods. He wasn’t interested in being a polite functioning human. He was always there for his patients. Work was always something he excelled at. Now that it was his only focus, it had only honed his skills further. At the moment, he got dressed of a morning, fed himself, paid his bills and showed up to the new practice. That was enough for now, surely?
The front door to the surgery slamming shut gave him an inkling that perhaps it wasn’t. Sighing heavily, he washed his hands in the sink and started to prepare for the next client. He was just reaching for the door handle to call the next patient when it was barged open by a rather dirty and eager-looking snout. The dog, looking as if he had bathed in mud, bounded into the room, his lead flying in the air as the mad Doberman dashed around the room. It took all of five seconds before the dog caught the scent of where he was, and he tried to bound right back out of the door. The lead thwacked Chris in the leg as he passed, and, in the waiting area, he could hear a woman’s panicked shouting.
‘Hendrix, you daft dog! Calm down!’ The woman entered the room, blocking off the exit to the dog with a well-placed knee. Hendrix was overjoyed to see the woman, whoever she was, and Chris was still rubbing at his trousered leg, where a nice red welt was now showing on his ankle from the whipping of the metal dog lead. ‘Sorry, I’m so sorry, he’s a bit...well...bouncy.’
‘Indeed.’ Chris grabbed at the lead and the big brown hound came to a stop at his feet. ‘Hendrix, eh?’
‘Yeah.’ The woman, red-faced from wrestling with the dog, beamed at him. ‘He’s terrible at guitar though—all paws.’
She was standing there, grinning at him again while Hendrix wasted no time in saying hello by sniffing him closely, right in the crotch area. Chris gently pushed the dog’s nose away and moved behind the surgery table. He was keen to keep his distance from the eager hound. Looking at the woman before him, who was dressed in every colour of the rainbow and still beaming like an idiot, he moved a little bit quicker. Hendrix’s eyes followed him, but he didn’t move from his owner’s feet.
‘So, what seems to be the issue with Hendrix today?’
‘Oh, just the usual. He needs his jabs and worming, of course; the shelter checked for a microchip but nothing came up. He’s probably an ill-thought-out Christmas present. These dogs get so big... I don’t think people realise.’ She patted Hendrix on the head, and he looked up at her with a goofy. adoring look on his face.
‘So, you’re adopting him?’
The woman laughed. ‘Sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced properly. I’m Susannah Harkin. I work with the local shelters. I lost my Labrador a few years ago, and I couldn’t quite wrap my heart around getting another dog. I went to look round the shelter one tragically sad afternoon...’ Her voice cracked, and the rest of her words didn’t leave her mouth. They seemed to hang there, in the air, and Chris found himself wondering what they would have been. ‘Anyway...’ She seemed to shake herself mentally, and the smile was back. Chris almost squinted as he felt the brightness invade the room. ‘Here I am. I foster some of the dogs that are a bit too much for kennels, work on a bit of house training, get them ready for their for-ever home.’
‘Is there such a thing these days?’
‘Such a thing as what?’
‘A for-ever home,’ Chris retorted. ‘Our throwaway society seems to feel different.’
The woman looked a little thoughtful. A second or two later, she bent to stroke behind Hendrix’s ears and eyed the vet over Hendrix’s head.
‘Maybe, but you don’t throw the baby out with the bath water. Not in Puddle Lake anyway. People do care. The way I see it, if I can help a few dogs get a better deal, then it’s more than worth it. Bit of company around the house too.’
Chris found himself nodding despite himself. She did have a point—just thinking about going home chilled his blood. It was too quiet, devoid of life. He found himself sitting at home waiting for work to start, but then work started and his mood didn’t improve.
‘So, Hendrix here just needs the usual MOT. A bit of training, a good groom and he should be good to go.’
Hendrix looked up at Chris, a comical expression of horror on his features as though he could understand everything the pair of them were saying. Typical dog—they all loved the vets until they had some kind of treatment, and then the pooch soon wised up for the subsequent visits. Hendrix was looking at the door and Chris followed his gaze. Susannah was still staring at him when he realised he hadn’t spoken for a full minute. In all honesty, he was with the dog. He wanted out of this room, right now. He snapped back into vet mode and pushed his own muddled thoughts aside. He was becoming a pro at it too.
‘Okay, well, let’s get him up on the table and see what’s what.’
The scared Doberman, as though he had understood every word, suddenly pulled up on the lead Susannah was holding, her face registering the movement just a second too late. Hendrix, now fully aware of the impending doom that was coming his way, threw his whole body weight against the door, letting out a pitiful howl in the direction of the vet’s waiting area.
‘Woof—woof!’ Hendrix was pulling at the lead with everything he had, trying to dig through the wood of the thick surgery room door with his overgrown claws. ‘Woof! Woof! Woof!’
‘Hendrix! Come...on...!’ Susannah, knocked off balance by the terrified hound, ended up on the floor, partly beneath the dog, partly wrapped in his lead. She looked like a rainbow, her coloured clothing spreading out around her and Hendrix’s brown chicken legs hopping all around her as the dog made a valiant but ultimately futile bid for freedom. ‘Hendrix, please! Cut me a break. I told you this was coming. We had a deal, buddy! I bought you a pup cup in good faith, damn you!’
The dog paused for a moment, looking Susannah in the eye and giving her a long lick up her cheek before returning to his frantic scrabbling and high-pitched whines of frustration and fear. Chris looked at the bright and scattered woman flailing on the floor, and at the dog, and sighed.
‘Hendrix, stop.’ He didn’t shout it, but his deep controlled voice stopped both Hendrix and the woman beneath him in their tracks. The dog looked at him and slowly turned away from the door, standing on Susannah in the process; he then sat quietly at Chris’s feet. ‘Good boy.’ He patted the dog once on the head, and then, looking at his surrogate owner sitting on the floor agog, Chris held out his other hand. She eyed it warily for a long moment, Hendrix seemingly in awe of the vet now and obediently waiting for the next instruction. She wiped her now muddy hand on her clothing and slowly put her hand in his. Her hand felt warm, and surprisingly soft to the touch. His jaw dropped a little, the shock of the contact enveloping his body. He hadn’t held a woman’s hand in what seemed like a lifetime. He slowly pulled her to her feet, his other hand reaching for hers as she come to a stop right in front of him.
She’s quite pretty. Beautiful green eyes, with that red hair. Sea glass and fire.
She slowly pulled her hands from his.
‘Thanks. Sorry about him too.’
He grabbed his stethoscope from his desk and came to kneel by the startled hound.
‘Not to worry. I think we’ve come to somewhat of an agreement. Hendrix, let’s get this over with.’
Dr Jennings inspected Hendrix, noting things down on his computer screen as he went. Susannah watched him work his magic on the bedraggled canine, who was now allowing the vet to investigate his undercarriage without trying to rip his arm off.
‘So, you’re the new vet, then? Not some weirdo masquerading under his name?” He sounded nothing like the outgoing vet had described.
‘Stating the obvious, since I currently have a thermometer in an awkward place.’
Hendrix’s face was a picture, but Dr Jennings looked as if he were sucking on a lemon. Susannah pressed on undeterred.
‘Settling in okay, then? Must be different for you, from a big-city mega vet to this little corner of the world.’
‘It was hardly a mega-vet. We only had six partners in total.’
‘Well, our whole village has one. Trust me, to us that’s a mega-vet. When we got Starbucks on the motorway exit everyone went nuts for weeks. We only had the tea shop in town before then. There was even a petition to get it closed down, but thankfully the caffeine seemed to fend off any real feuds. So, you liking it?’
‘I’ve been a vet for a while now,’ he rebuffed, his face stony. ‘Hendrix is fine, and his jabs are now up to date.’
‘I know that.’ She ignored his attempt to shut the conversation down. ‘I meant living and working here.’
What was this guy’s problem? She was only trying to be nice. It was like trying to talk to the dogs at home. Hendrix had a better line in conversation than this sour-faced man. He was rather cute though, she noticed as he got to his feet and went back to his computer. He was tall, dark-haired, and would be handsome if he didn’t scowl all the time. Dr Ingham had made a strange choice for his practice. Ezekiel Ingham was like Santa Claus compared to the tightly clenched man before her. She knew Ezekiel had been looking for a while, and the last time she’d been in to talk to him about her dream of an adoption drive, he’d been excited for his successor to arrive in order to give him some much-needed time off. He’d been a stalwart of the local community for years, but now his children were all flying the nest and raising chicks of their own, he was looking to slow down. From the way he’d spoken to her about Dr Jennings, it had seemed as if he was going to be a perfect fit. Now, as she watched him tut at the screen, banging at a couple of keys a little too hard, she couldn’t really see what Ezekiel had been thinking.
‘Are you having a bad day or something?’
He ignored her, his face lit up with the glare of the computer screen.
‘Hello? Earth to Dr Jennings.’
‘What?’ He almost snapped his reply at her, and she felt herself frown for the first time that day. Even Hendrix hadn’t annoyed her to nearly the same degree as the man standing in front of her. He finally turned to look at her, and she noted a touch of regret cross his features. ‘Sorry, did you say something?’
‘I asked if you were having a bad day.’
He frowned, his almost black brows forming a tight frame around his dark brown eyes.
‘No worse than any other day.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘And is that good or bad?’
‘It’s just a day. It’s a dull Wednesday afternoon, my clinic is full, and I got assaulted by a Doberman.’ He looked at her, his face pulled into a sour expression.
‘Well, a day is what you make it. I find that if you try to find the joy, it’s there.’
She could tell from his expression that he thought she was some kind of ‘Be Kind’ hippie. Which she was, in many ways, but it still irked her.
‘Not always. Are you having Hendrix fixed?’
Great, and now he was talking about dog testicles. He really didn’t want to be spoken to, did he?
‘Yes, please. I am hoping to get him rehomed as soon as his training is done.’
The vet said nothing, turning again to the screen.
‘I can do the operation next week. Monday morning?’
She frowned, getting her diary up on her phone.
‘I can’t, I’m on shift that day. I can do Tuesday and Wednesday?’
He sighed heavily, squinting at the screen and tapping a few keys just that little bit harder than was required. Susannah and Hendrix were both watching him, and from Hendrix’s unamused face, she could tell he wasn’t impressed by the new vet’s mood either.
‘Tuesday I can fit him in first thing. That suit?’
Susannah nodded, making a note in her phone diary.
‘Perfect, I’ll be home to look after him then. So what’s the verdict?’
‘He’s fine, a little underweight, but that should correct itself over time. He’s quite healthy for a stray.’
‘Oh, he wasn’t a stray; he was surrendered to the local dog shelter anonymously.’
‘Ah, the behavioural issues make more sense now.’ His jaw flexed. ‘I do hate how people think these animals are disposable.’ He printed a quotation sheet off the computer, coming around the desk to give it to Susannah. As he passed the paper to her, he knelt down and gave Hendrix a rub behind the ears. To his credit, the hound for once took it in his stride, and gave the man a lick. He laughed, and Susannah saw the vet’s demeanour change. His shoulders relaxed, his expression changed from a deep-seated scowl to show a handsome face, and his eyes now looked less like a shark’s. The change in him surprised her.
What was wrong with him? It seemed like more than a bad day, but looking at him now, playing with Hendrix, it was hard to reconcile the two men.
‘Do you have any pets?’ she asked, suddenly interested to know more about him.
‘No, sadly not. I never had the time before I moved.’
‘And now?’ she pressed.
He looked up at her then, Hendrix sitting with his tongue out, clearly loving the ear scratch that Dr Jennings was giving him. Fickle, she said to Hendrix in her head. He had been trying to bound out of the door a second ago, and now he was shamelessly leaning into the vet’s touch. From the look on Dr Jennings’s face, she realised that the thought of having his own pet had never occurred to him.
‘Well, now I guess I have more time. I’ve never thought of it like that.’ He gave Hendrix a last stroke and stood up straight. Susannah had to look up at him, given his tall stature, and she found herself looking at his body. Just for a sneaky second, before she caught herself. She wasn’t here for any of that. She was here for the dogs. Which reminded her of the charity drive she desperately wanted to get up and running.
‘So you might be in the market for a dog, then? Maybe you can get one at the charity drive.’
‘Charity drive?’
Susannah’s heart sank. She could tell it was the first he’d heard of it.
‘Yeah, I did have an arrangement with your predecessor. We have a bit of a backlog with the rescue dogs in the area, and I’m a bit overstretched. Having a charity drive would be a great way of matching some with new owners and raise some funds too.’ She had eight dogs at home, including the overexuberant Hendrix, and she was starting to feel a little stretched. Her job was emotionally and physically draining too, and although she only worked part time, it was still a lot. There was barely room for her in her own house, and it was getting costly. The shelters she worked with were amazing, but she tried to chip in with the costs when she could. Non-profit charities cut costs where they could, but the money still never seemed to stretch far enough.
‘Right, and Dr Ingham agreed to this on my behalf, did he? He never mentioned it, and as he’s away...’
He trailed off, standing there in silence. He was dismissing her! Susannah felt her hackles rise.
‘Well, yes. He’s away, but he did say that the practice would help. I was actually hoping to start the ball rolling today.’
His eyes were on the clock before she’d finished speaking.
‘Well, I don’t have the time today, I’m afraid. I have a patient waiting.’
‘It won’t take a minute. I just wanted to check you were on board. Perhaps arrange a proper meeting time, so we can discuss it in more detail. If we could have vet support, it would make a real difference.’
He made a kind of squeaking noise in his throat, as if he were being strangled.
‘Well...er... I am new to the place, and my caseload is full. I really don’t think—’
‘Tuesday, then, you’ll have the time. I can sign the consent paperwork beforehand.’ She wasn’t about to let this drop. He looked put out, but she smiled at him and turned to Hendrix. ‘Right, you, home we go!’ She turned to leave, the image of him staring at her open-mouthed etched into her memory.
This drive is going to be more of a task than I thought. I wish I were on a cruise. So I could beg the nice vet to come back and sort this sourpuss out.
He was going to say no, and she wasn’t about to let him do it without a fight. Her house was packed to the rafters, and so were the shelters. They were having to turn dogs away now, sending them further afield. It broke her heart, and a man who acted like Ebenezer Dolittle Scrooge wasn’t going to put a kink in her planning.
The door closed behind her, and she walked into Reception, Hendrix’s lead pulling as he spied the main door. She gave him a look, and he sat down at her feet. The waiting room was quite full. Maybe Dr Jennings was just busy, tired even. She wasn’t one to be down; it wasn’t her way. That didn’t mean she didn’t struggle herself some days.
‘Everything okay, Suze?’ Cheryl asked her from behind the desk. ‘You look like you’ve had a bad day.’
Cheryl’s choice of words made her cackle with laughter.
‘You could say that. It started well.’ She nodded her head towards the door. ‘I need to book in for Hendrix here.’ She made a snipping movement with her fingers. She never liked to talk about it in front of the dogs. She felt a bit sorry for them really, but it was for the best. Less chance of any more unwanted puppies to rehome down the line and fewer health complications in later life. ‘Tuesday first thing, please.’
Cheryl clicked on her keys, nodding along.
‘All booked in. Sixty-five pounds for today on the account, okay?’
‘Elvedon Shelter for this one, please.’ She had accounts running at the vet’s for the shelters she worked with; she was the dog whisperer in this little corner of the world, and it was easier than paying out and having to claim it back. She wasn’t broke, but she wasn’t flush either. She owned her house and land, and loved her job, but she still had to be careful to watch that she didn’t spend all her money saving dogs. ‘I’ll see you Tuesday.’
She was about to put Hendrix in the car when Cheryl called her name. She was jogging across to her, a furtive look on her features.
‘Sorry, did I forget something?’
Cheryl waved her away. ‘No, no. I just wanted to catch you to ask something. What did you think of the new vet?’
Susannah wasn’t one for slating people she had just met, but she did find it very hard to bite her tongue without ripping the whole thing off.
‘Well, I think bad days are catching,’ she said diplomatically. She hoisted Hendrix into the back of her car, waiting for him to settle down with a treat she’d lobbed in before carefully closing the boot. ‘Why do you ask?’
Cheryl looked back at the practice before answering.
‘It’s just...he’s been a little bit...’
Susannah saved her from speaking. ‘Moody? Surly?’
Cheryl nodded in relief, her eye still on those front doors.
‘You did notice, then. He’s a nice bloke, but...the transition is a little tricky, especially when Ezekiel went away. He needed it though—I’m just not sure the locals are accepting it very well.’
‘The charity drive is dead in the water now too,’ she muttered, more thinking out loud. ‘What’s his problem?’
Cheryl, never one to gossip either, looked uncomfortable again. ‘It wouldn’t be for me to say, but...’
‘But?’ Susannah found that she really was interested in the answer. She leaned in, and, looking into the boot, she could see that Hendrix was regarding them both rather intently too. ‘You know I won’t say anything.’
‘It’s his wife...’ Cheryl gave in. ‘I think she left him or something. When he was talking to Ezekiel about the job a few months ago, I’m sure Ezekiel said he was married. No wife, no ring.’ Cheryl bit her lip, obviously feeling very guilty about her admission. ‘I think it’s because of her. He never gets any calls, you know? Nothing personal. The closest he got was when we had a kitchen firm call him about something about his house. I think he’s a bit lonely perhaps. I just hope he settles in soon.’ She gave Susannah an odd look, and then it dawned on her. She knew why Cheryl had been so eager to talk to her. She wanted her help. The resulting groan from the very depths of her soul made Cheryl wince.
‘I know but come on! You make everyone happy around here! And...and...’
‘Need a hand, clutching at those straws?’ Susannah’s mouth twisted into a tease. ‘I can’t help on this one.’ She looked back at Hendrix, who had now settled down in the back, as if butter wouldn’t melt. ‘I only just met the guy, and he didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet. He shot down my charity drive and—’
‘The charity drive, that’s it!’
Cheryl jumped in the air like an overexcited meercat.
‘That’s what? He practically threw up when I mentioned the idea. He is not on board.’
‘No, I know he’s probably a bit reluctant...’
‘A bit reluctant? He walks around like he could sweep the floor clean with every tight step he takes. He doesn’t give a fig about the charity drive, and why would he?’
‘He loves animals!’
Susannah rolled her eyes theatrically.
‘Rather a given, with his job.’
‘No, I mean he really loves animals. He’s been berating the patients’ owners since he got here for not looking after them properly. He’s a bit of a stickler for animal care, and he shows real passion.’
Susannah couldn’t help but frown. The guy Cheryl was describing didn’t sound anything like the angry vet she had just had the displeasure of meeting. He was curious about Hendrix’s background though. Maybe he did care, just a little. ‘I don’t know, I don’t really have the time.’
‘That’s what the charity drive was about, wasn’t it? Getting more dogs rehomed, enticing more foster carers. It will all help, right?’
Susannah soon felt very tired, leaning her head against the back window. Hendrix jumped up and tried to lick at her forehead through the glass.
‘I’m not sure I’m the best person for this, Cheryl. Me and men...’
Cheryl patted her on the shoulder. ‘I know, but this is just business. It won’t do you any harm to get out of the house a bit more either.’ Susannah was ready to cut her off, but then she thought of her last weekend off. She’d not left the house, other than to walk the dogs. Even that had been on her land. She’d done it in PJs and wellies. It was hardly packed with action. The closest thing she got to excitement these days was when her Amazon book orders came. Cheryl had a point, but she couldn’t help but feel irked by it. Cheryl could tell, judging by her face. ‘Please? For me?’
Susannah snorted. ‘The last time you rang me and said that, I ended up with a three-legged dog.’
‘Yeah, and he got you moving again! Come on, after Beau, you needed some company.’
And the rest, Susannah thought.
When Beau, her old Labrador dog, had passed away, she had been lost. That was true. Cheryl had thrown her a lifeline asking her to foster a dog for the practice, and it had gone from there. Company in her house, but she was still not sure how she would get on with Dr Jennings and his stunningly rude bedside manner.
‘I’ll give you that, but you will also remember that I do better with male dogs than with their human counterparts. I’m not sure I can help this time.’ She was slowly edging to the driver door, but Cheryl was clearly torn between trying to rope her into her plan and heading back to work to keep the chaos caused by Dr Mardy to a minimum. Susannah half followed her, one eye on the surgery door.
‘Just think about it, okay? For me? One little chat. Maybe take him out for a coffee.’ The look on her face was all gentle smiles and begging eyes, but even with the help it would generate, not to mention making her life easier, her mind was still screaming at her not to get into bed with this man. Metaphorically speaking, of course. She couldn’t really imagine any woman wanting that little slice of delight—well, not with his scowling demeanour, anyway. It would no doubt be rude and perfunctory, just like his dog bedside manner. She did wonder what was under his clothing though—she could still appreciate a good-looking man when she saw one. If he smiled, he would be rather attractive, she thought.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said eventually, but she saw Cheryl’s shoulders sag. ‘Come on, Chez, you know me and men.’
‘I knew you and one man,’ she said softly. ‘You can’t keep measuring all your experiences with the same yardstick.’
‘Well, I’ve heard my ex called other things before, but never that.’
Cheryl laughed, and Susannah smiled. She loved making people happy—making them laugh, even. Even if it was as a result of poking fun at her marriage and the subsequent rather messy divorce. Still, that was in the past. She wasn’t as affected by things as she once was, but Cheryl’s comment did make her think. Did the people who were in her life really think that? Sure, he’d cheated on her, and treated her as second-best pretty much the day after the wedding—a whirlwind wedding at that. She’d been a fresh young nurse, and he’d been the powerful, commanding doctor. He’d wooed her, married her, and then promptly forgotten about her. She’d been the idiot who had fallen for it, but it had been first love. She’d never met anyone she cared about like him. He had tamed her free spirit, but then just assumed that she would take life, and his shenanigans, in her stride. It was a huge shock to them both that this simply wasn’t true.
‘I’m well shot. Happy as a lark.’
