A Puppy and a Christmas Proposal
Autore
Louisa George
Letto da
16,0K
Capitoli
13
CHAPTER ONE
‘DAMN SNOW. THE weather forecast said this Arctic vortex should have ended by today.’
Alex Norton locked Oakdale Medical Centre’s front door and turned up his coat collar against the flurries that were now falling thick and fast, covering Oakdale village in a glistening white blanket. Winter had arrived with a vengeance with Christmas hot on its tail. And all he had to do was keep sane through the madness of the next month and then he’d be able to breathe properly again.
All? With the memories of Christmases past haunting him at every turn in this tiny claustrophobic village he’d be lucky if he stayed sane until the end of next week.
‘Hasn’t snowed this much in December for years.’ His colleague and business partner Dr Joe Thompson grinned as he fell into step with him up the path towards the main street. ‘Going to be a white Christmas, do you think?’
White? Blue? Yellow with orange spots? Alex didn’t rightly care what colour Christmas was going to be, but he managed a half-decent, at least polite, reply. ‘Who knows? It’s three weeks away. This will all be murky slush before you can blink.’
Joe’s eyes narrowed. ‘I hope not. I promised to take Katy tobogganing tomorrow.’
Alex checked himself. Okay, so perhaps murky slush wasn’t polite. Not everyone disliked Christmas, especially not the father of a pre-teen girl. Maybe Christmas might actually be fun with a kid around. As if he’d ever know. ‘Oh, yes. First day of your holidays. Have fun. See you on the other side of New Year.’
‘I’m grateful you’ve agreed to stay here to cover the clinic for us. Rose is looking forward to her first Oakdale Christmas and Katy’s beside herself with excitement about the New Year’s skiing holiday. For the first time in years I’m going to be able to get to all the school things they have at the end of term; the kids’ disco, the Nativity... And she’s going to love the pantomime in Lancaster next week.’ Judging by the shine in Joe’s eyes he was fairly keen about it all too. Which, as far as Alex was concerned, was a long time coming. Joe had been through a rough few years and it was good to see him smile. He figured Joe’s new partner Rose had a lot to do with that too. ‘It’ll be good to be able to enjoy it all as a family without worrying about rushing back for work.’
‘You deserve the time off. Happy to do it.’ With a bit of luck he could bury himself in his job and forget it was the time of year that everyone seemed to go just a little bit crazy. Alex hated December. He hated Christmas. He hated the reminders of everything he’d lost, and at this time of year he was usually on holiday somewhere far away trying to drink away the memories.
But there would be no holiday this year; their other practice partner, Jenny, was off sick with a nasty leg fracture and their new partner wasn’t starting until next week, and with Joe having pre-booked leave right through December there hadn’t been anyone to step up but Alex.
Joe stopped as they reached the turn-off that led up the hill to his house. ‘Coming to the carol concert later?’
‘No. Not my idea of fun.’
‘Good job you don’t have kids, mate. You’d go mad this time of year with all the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeers going on. Katy’s been practising and let’s just say that, although I love my daughter to pieces, even I have to admit she does not have the voice of an angel.’ Joe laughed. ‘Seriously, you should come.’
‘With that recommendation?’ Alex ignored the stab in his chest. It wasn’t just a good job he didn’t have kids; it was a physical impossibility. He dug his hands further into his coat pockets. ‘No. I’m fine. A warm fire and a cold beer beckon.’
‘The pub? Friday band night?’
‘No. I’d like to keep my eardrums intact into old age. I’m just heading home. Just me, and not a red-nosed reindeer in sight.’
‘Okay. So basically it’s “Bah, humbug” and all that?’
‘Yeah. Something like that.’ Joe clearly wasn’t getting the ‘don’t push it’ vibe Alex was sending him. ‘Enjoy the concert.’
‘I’ll try...’ Joe grinned and waved his phone earbuds ‘...not to listen too hard.’
Then it was just Alex and the crunch of fresh snow as he stalked across the empty village square. Each footstep a beat...warm...fire...cold...beer... Warm...fire. Cold...beer. Nothing better after a busy work week.
Despite the streetlights it was dark and fresh and he wished he’d dressed more suitably for a blizzard. Every shopfront had some sort of festive display or Nativity scene and someone had strung bunting made out of silver stars zigzagging from the post office to the butcher’s and over to the newsagent’s. There was a small and slightly gravelly snowman outside the little supermarket, its carrot nose lying on the snow-covered ground. Alex picked it up, stuck it back onto the large white head and tightened the woolly scarf round the join between head and body. ‘There you go, mate, whole again.’
He tried hard not to think how that might feel. But at least he’d fixed the snowman. See? What was that if it wasn’t embracing the Christmas spirit? Bah, humbug, indeed.
He made his way down the icy path towards the opposite end of the village to where Joe was heading, to the house he’d grown up in, his thoughts tumbling between the usual tumult of GP life and that one Christmas eight years ago when his life had changed for ever.
He tried to push the memories away but there was something about those Nativity scenes that seemed to lock them in his head; the doctor’s office decorated in tinsel for festive fun, diametrically opposed to the hot panic that had consumed him. The phone call. Tears. So many tears. And then navigating an entirely different landscape from the future he’d been planning.
From somewhere he heard a little whine, then an excited yelp tugged him back to today, the past receding a little. Behind him was a fluffy bundle of fur on four legs. Not a red-nosed reindeer but a dog...a puppy to be exact. It stopped walking when he did. When he started again it let out another yelp then bounded through the drifts and caught him up, tangling between his legs.
Huffing out a breath, Alex disentangled himself from the pup. Along with huge soppy eyes it had a long snout, big paws completely out of whack with its body and a tail that stood up like a spike. Cute. If you were the dog-loving type. Alex wasn’t. Especially when they hindered your journey home after a long day looking after particularly difficult patients. He stepped over the mutt. ‘Whoa, puppy. It’s too slippery out here to be doing that.’
It didn’t move. ‘Go.’
Nah. Nothing. He picked it up, turned it around and plopped it back onto the snow, hoping it would return to wherever it had come from, then he set off in the direction of home. Warm fire. Cold beer. Warm fire. Cold beer.
Another yelp. A little bark. Did that one sound like, Hey, Mr Bah Humbug, I’m freezing?
‘Look, stop following me. Go home, boy...or girl...’ He couldn’t tell from this distance. But the puppy just tipped its head to one side and looked at him. ‘Go. Shoo.’
Pointy ears pricked. Well, one did; the right ear had a floppy fold. One up, one bent.
Not cute at all. Really. Not cute.
And lost. He looked at the trail of puppy paw prints in the snow and sighed as he bent down. ‘Okay, okay. Let’s have a look at you.’
No collar. Great. A boy pup. And very happy to be given attention. ‘Someone, somewhere is going to be missing you. How about you turn right around and go back where you came from?’ But he couldn’t help sinking his fingers in the fur at the back of the pup’s neck and giving him a good scratch. The puppy nuzzled against his arm and something in Alex’s chest squeezed.
No. ‘I am not going to be bamboozled by big soppy brown eyes and cold paws.’
No. Nope. No way. Niet.
As soon as this silly season was over he was booking a holiday. A climbing holiday perhaps where he could put all his energy into something physical. A holiday fling maybe? That could be good respite too. A something with someone who didn’t want for ever. He noticed his fingers were still fur-deep and his palm was wet with over-enthusiastic licks. It actually felt kind of nice. When was the last time he’d made a meaningful connection?
He didn’t want to think about that, because making connections deeper than the ten-minute appointments with his patients was something he avoided at all costs. Dragging his hand away from the fur ball, he tried to sound authoritarian. ‘Don’t go getting attached to me. Off you go.’
He started to walk away. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Words he’d repeated over and over to himself so many times in his life; in the darkest times, when he’d faced an uncertain future, he’d known that looking back at all those unfulfilled plans he’d made would have given him no solace at all.
But the puppy ran along next to him, sinking deep into the snow, then pushing with those huge paws and jumping out and into the next drift. ‘A puppy with authority issues. I see. Just my luck, right? Look, mate, this isn’t going to work. I’m just not that into you.’
The wind picked up as he reached his cottage, swirling snowflakes faster and thicker. He slid the key into the lock and pushed through into the cold and dark, pausing for a moment to stamp the snow from his boots. Wishing he’d left either a light or central heating on, he flicked on a switch, flooding the hallway in a soft cream glow, and caught a spiky tail disappearing into his kitchen. ‘What? Hey! Houdini! You don’t live here.’
The damned thing had snuck in with him and was now, he discovered as he rounded the corner into his large kitchen-dining room, lying on his grandparents’ heirloom rug in front of the dining table, chewing on Alex’s best, top-of-the-range and shipped-all-the-way-from-the-States climbing shoes.
‘Hey! Hey! No! They cost a fortune! Let go.’ A throaty, playful growl came from the dog as Alex took hold of his shoe and tried to tug it out of its mouth. ‘I only just bought them. I’ve only worn them once.’
But the dog stuck his bottom in the air and laid his enormous paws out in front and kept on tugging back, that tail wagging back and forth like a metronome on heat.
‘This is not a game.’ Alex needed to distract it. ‘Food? What could you have? Water? Yes. Water.’
He filled an old porcelain Willow Pattern bowl that had belonged to his grandmother and put it on the floor, then microwaved the sausages he’d planned to eat for dinner and chopped them up. ‘Your last supper, matey. Then you’re back out there.’
He looked out of the window at the whirls of snowflakes, heavier and thicker than he’d seen in a long time. Then he looked at the puppy, who was devouring the food as if it hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe it hadn’t. ‘Who do you belong to?’
One tentative sniff of the sausages and Spike gobbled the lot—okay, so the name just came to him. It fitted the mutt perfectly, especially with the tail that stuck straight up. And so much for not getting involved. As a rural GP he’d been around enough farmers to know you didn’t name things you didn’t want to get attached to.
Then Spike bounded over to him, dragging the now mauled and mangled shoe. Alex used his best authoritative voice. ‘Drop. Drop.’
But Spike went right on chewing at Alex’s feet. Whoever owned him scored very low in the puppy-training ranks.
‘You must belong to someone. Surely? How would I find out? A dog like you shouldn’t be out there in the freezing night—oh? Ugh.’ His words stalled as a warm and wet sensation trickled down his ankle.
‘Oh, great. Just great. A puppy with authority issues and a weak bladder. Brilliant.’ He looked down and his eyes met those dark brown soulful ones. He ignored the squeeze in his chest. ‘Spike, my man. Just what the hell am I supposed to do with you?’
Sometimes folks loved their pets more than people, and Beth Masters understood that more than most. Pets didn’t break promises or let you down. Pets never gave you the cold shoulder or silent treatment. Except for the one she was examining now; the poor farm dog was so ill, and exhausted from being sick, she could barely move. ‘How long has she been like this?’ Beth asked Meg’s owner, local farmer Dennis Blakely.
The old man just shrugged as he stared down at his lovely old collie and stroked her muzzle. ‘Help her, Beth.’
Beth recapped what he’d told her when he’d rushed through the door a few minutes before, frantic for help. ‘So, we have a history of vomiting and shaking...like a seizure?’
‘Yes. No. Well...she was shaking and coughing and then she was sick. It was dark-coloured.’
‘Blood perhaps?’ Beth did not like the sound of that. ‘And now she’s just completely exhausted. It could be a bug, or something she’s eaten. Or any number of things.’ Or, most likely some kind of tumour in a dog of such advanced age. But Beth knew better than to jump to conclusions and she couldn’t feel any obvious mass.
Mr Blakely tore his eyes away from the dog and looked over at Beth. ‘Something she’s eaten? Do you think so? What kind of thing?’
Beth listened to the dog’s heart. ‘At this time of year it’s usually chocolate. People leave it wrapped up underneath the Christmas tree and forget it’s dangerous to dogs. Oh. Oh, dear, poor you.’ She rubbed gently as the dog vomited onto the counter. This wasn’t looking good. But she could see it wasn’t chocolate that had made the poor pooch sick. Meg whined and laid her head onto her paws, her eyes looking deep into Beth’s heart. Wait...there was a tinge of yellow in the dog’s sclera. Liver problems maybe?
Her phone vibrated on the desk in the corner of the room. She ignored it. If it was urgent they’d call back.
They did. Her heart thumped as the vibrations made the phone dance across the wood. ‘Excuse me, I need to get this.’
But it was just a text from her mother reminding her about the carol concert they’d planned to go to later. Well, that plan was about to go south; she couldn’t leave poor Meg like this. ‘Mr Blakely... Dennis... I’m so sorry that Meg is so sick. I’m going to run some tests and, in the meantime, keep her as comfortable as I can. It could take a while to get her stable...if I can even manage that.’
‘Aye.’ He nodded. His pale eyes filled. ‘Do what you can, love. But save her, whatever it takes. She’s all I’ve got now Nancy’s gone. It doesn’t matter how much it costs. Just save her.’
Beth’s heart twisted. Poor guy. A widower of only two years and, judging by the scruffy whiskers and the unkempt hair and dirty clothes, he wasn’t coping well. But caring for a very sick dog overnight would mean she’d have to miss the concert and she’d be letting her mum down. Again.
Because the progressive rheumatoid arthritis had eaten away at her mum’s joints and rendered her unable to drive without a lot of pain she was relying on Beth to get her to and from the school hall. Beth felt torn; promises were something she always tried to keep, but she couldn’t not treat a sick dog.
‘Let’s see how she goes, Dennis. She’s very sick and you need to know...’ Her throat was raw. God, she hated this part of her job. She put her hand on his arm. Despite the thick old coat that hung from his thinning frame his papery skin was cold to the touch. ‘I can’t promise she’ll make it through the night.’
The man just nodded and looked as if his heart was breaking. She put a drip up through one of Meg’s veins and bandaged her paw. The poor thing barely flinched. Then Beth popped her onto a blanket in one of the holding cages and made sure she was comfortable and safe while Beth ran the tests. ‘That should start rehydrating her and hopefully she’ll feel brighter. I’ve taken some blood and will do some X-rays and see if they come up with any clues.’
Someone banged on the surgery front door.
‘We’re closed!’ she called out. ‘Dennis, you go on home. Try to get some rest.’
‘Hey!’ The person outside rattled the letterbox. ‘I can see you’re in there.’
‘Still closed!’
No rest for the wicked. She tried to remember when she’d done something wicked and came up blank. Sure, she’d wanted to be wicked...lots of times. But she was far too sensible to throw caution to the wind. As a child she’d always been a little devil-may-care but being her mum’s carer and then having her heart stamped on had curbed that a little. And now she was a very responsible professional, who could hear canine yelping and human huffing.
She sighed, because sometimes she was her own worst enemy, but she couldn’t let another animal suffer if she didn’t have to. She just hoped it wasn’t another serious emergency. ‘Okay. Give me a minute.’
Focusing back on the situation in hand, she double-checked Meg was stable then walked Dennis to the door. ‘I’ll call you if things change.’
‘Good lass. I just hope I got to her in time.’
‘Fingers crossed.’ But she had a sinking feeling that it was going to need a lot more than luck to get Meg well again. She unlocked the door and opened it to let Dennis out.
‘Hey, Dennis. How are you?’ A very familiar voice had her heart jumping. And not in a good way.
Alex Norton. Great. She breathed out slowly, trying not to let her body overreact, or her brain for that matter. She had more important things to concentrate on than Alex Norton.
Dennis sighed long and deep and shook his head. His movements were slow and infused with grief. ‘Not good, Dr Alex. Not good at all.’
‘Oh? Anything I can help you with?’ Alex smiled. There he was with the smooth, kind and concerned doctor tone. If only they knew.
He was holding a puppy, which was licking his neck. And he was smiling.
Alex Norton and a puppy and a smile. How could the universe be so cruel?
‘I doubt you can help this time, Doc. Not unless you know about four-legged patients.’ There was a crack in the old man’s voice. ‘Meg’s taken a turn. She’s not doing well. But Beth here’s a good ’un. If anyone can make her well again, she can.’
‘Yes, I’m sure Beth will do her best. I’m hoping she can help me out too.’
No. Please, no. The last thing she needed right now was a conversation with the man who’d stomped on her heart all those years ago and—unfortunately, for Beth—the only man to date who could affect her with a simple look.
Not that she didn’t want to see him per se; in fact, he was lovely to look at. From being a good-looking adolescent he’d grown into a damned fine-looking man in his expensive wool coat and jeans. His dark hair was shorter than he’d used to like it and the odd grey strand was creeping in. His blue eyes were darker than she remembered and had developed one or two lines around them. He was broader too, his shoulders more powerful-looking and he was, possibly, taller than back then. But with him being six feet two his mouth had always been a tiptoe to reach.
She was not going to think about his mouth. Or his kisses. Or him.
So, while she didn’t mind looking at the gorgeousness that was Alex Norton she just didn’t want to lay her eyes on him. Because whenever she did she was filled with such a heady mix of emotions she couldn’t sort through them. Although she knew sadness and anger were definitely the dominant ones.
‘Hey, Beth.’ His smile was still there...and something else. He wanted something and, because she knew him so well, she knew that whatever he wanted was going to cost her.
‘Alex.’ She aimed for the same amount of ice that coated the path outside the vet surgery.
He didn’t seem to notice. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I thought you might be going to the carol concert or Friday band night at The Queen’s Arms.’
‘Interesting. You thought I wouldn’t be here? Or hoped?’ He’d actually thought about where she might be? That was unusual; thinking of someone other than himself. Despite her better judgment she let him in but only because he was holding a pet, and pets were her business, not his.
But she didn’t have the time to play nicey-nicey with him, even if just looking at him sent her heart into apoplexy. Stupid heart to keep hammering a tattoo for someone who dumped her and disappeared into the ether with not a single look back.
‘I did wonder whether you might be here.’ He lugged the puppy up under his arm. ‘Or whether you’d even be open this late.’
‘We are officially closed. And I did promise to take Mum to the concert, but I can’t leave Meg now—she’s really not well.’ Beth hurried back through to the hospital area so she could keep an eye on the old dog. The poor thing lay with her head on her paws, breathing steady. No more vomiting, so that was something. But she didn’t look right. ‘I need to run some tests. Like...now.’ She hoped he’d take the hint.
‘Would you like me to arrange for someone to take your mum to the concert? Joe’s going. I’m sure he’ll be able to take her down.’
Not good at hint-taking, then. For a second she thought about saying no to him just because that was how she was feeling. But saying no to her mum having a nice night out when she rarely left the house was plain mean-spirited. So, it looked as if she was going to be beholden to Alex Norton tonight. The first and last time.
She managed a brief smile. ‘Okay, yes, if you could give Joe a call that would be lovely.’
As he called his business partner she took the chance to check on Meg again. She was holding on, but very weak as Beth did her vital signs. She didn’t move an inch when she was put in the X-ray sling. Didn’t so much as whine as Beth drew more blood.
Alex came back as Beth was finishing up another round of observations. ‘Okay, done. Joe will take her to the concert and drive her home afterwards. He was more than happy to do it. He said he’d make sure she got back into the house safely.’
‘Thank you.’ That was something to feel less guilty about, at least. One good thing about being in Oakdale was that everyone looked out for each other, even though it could feel claustrophobic at times. Like, when everyone knew when you’d been dumped at Christmas and you had to endure those pitiful stares and sad smiles and you couldn’t wait to get the hell out and never come back. Except, of course, when your mum needed you. ‘I’ll give her a call and explain why I’m still here.’
‘I’ll wait. Er...we’ll wait.’ Alex cradled the puppy against his chest and stroked its back until it fell asleep. Beth refused to let the sight of gorgeous man and dog do anything at all to her emotions.
When she’d finished calling her mum he asked, ‘Was she okay about it?’
‘Not really. We were both looking forward to going together like we used to do years ago, but she knows my work here is demanding and that I often have to stay late, or even overnight. She’s used to me making promises I can’t keep. But then...we all know how that goes, right?’ Ouch. That was probably unnecessarily harsh. But when you broke off a relationship—an engagement—by phone call with no explanation, you had to expect the odd barb, right?
Geez. Beth closed her eyes for a second as she found some calm. It had been eight years. Eight damned years. She needed to let it go. In fact, she’d thought she had, until she’d come back to Oakdale to help her mum and found herself bumping into Alex at every turn. Ironic really, given that eight years ago, when she’d so desperately wanted to talk to him, she hadn’t been able to find him, and now she didn’t want to see him he was front and centre of Oakdale life. The sooner she went back to Glasgow, the better.
When she was able to breathe slowly again she turned to him. ‘So, Alex, why are you here, exactly?’
His jaw clenched and she wasn’t sure whether it was a reaction to her short manner or whether it was something else. ‘I seem to have a new friend.’
And why do I care? Oh. Why did she care? Because she knew deep down she still did. Cared enough about him that he made her heart hurt. Just a few more weeks and then she’d be gone and Alex wouldn’t be part of her life again.
Then she realised he meant the adorable puppy in his arms, who had woken up and was licking Alex’s chin and making him squirm. She scrubbed the back of the dog’s neck and it turned to look at her, large eyes brightening at her touch. ‘He’s gorgeous.’
‘He? You can tell the gender without looking?’ Alex’s eyes grew bigger too. ‘It took me a few minutes to figure that out.’
‘I can tell the gender by the way you’re holding him.’ She tried not to laugh. ‘But, if this is just a show and tell about your new pet then I haven’t got the time.’ Or the inclination.
She had to keep telling herself she didn’t have any inclination towards Alex Norton. Except anger. Was that an inclination? There had been many times, particularly in the first few months after he’d dumped her by phone, that her inclination had been to force-feed him the engagement ring he’d so beautifully proposed to her with. That was, if she’d been able to find him.
Alex shook his head. ‘He’s not mine. He just followed me home, snuck into my house and ate my shoes.’
‘All very lovely, I’m sure. And you want me to...?’
‘Take him.’ With the kind of smile that had once melted her heart, and now did absolutely nothing to her at all—at all—he handed the puppy out towards her. ‘He doesn’t belong to me.’
‘Nor me.’ Shrugging, she looked at the cute little dog who had a silky coat and bright eyes that were adoringly fixed on the man she’d once looked at like that. But he was distracting. They both were, and she had to deal with Meg. ‘He looks perfectly fine. Healthy and alert.’
‘He is.’ Alex craned his neck away from the puppy’s tongue and grimaced. ‘Too alert.’
‘Alert is a good thing, Alex.’
‘I need to find his owner.’
‘Of course you do, and I’m sure they’ll be very grateful.’
‘Has anyone reported a missing puppy to you or anyone here?’
She quickly flicked through the notices in the large clinic diary on the desk. ‘No, not in the last few days. A white rabbit, rather unoriginally named Bugsy, is currently AWOL, as is a Siamese cat called Marg, but no dogs.’
She threw him what she hoped was an über-efficient and over-officious smile that she knew would definitely not reach her eyes or exude any warmth or encouragement for them to stay. Whimpering came from the treatment room. Meg.
Damn. ‘Look, I have to go. Meg needs me and I need some answers.’ And not just about what was ailing the dog. ‘You know where the door is. Goodnight, Alex and friend.’
