A Puppy and a Christmas Proposal Page 3

  ‘I’d prefer to stay here. You have all the equipment. I have nothing suitable for a pet at home. Plus, he doesn’t like cars, he howls like I’m trying to kill him. I tried to soothe him with some classic tunes from the nineties but that didn’t work, and neither did Rihanna, which I don’t understand at all, because when Rihanna sings I’m all ears.’

  ‘Okay, okay. That’s enough.’ She didn’t want to know any more, she didn’t want to hear his voice or see his face or be subjected to his bad puns, because those were things from her past and she was working forward now, not looking back. She dug out a bowl and filled it with water, and another one with puppy food. ‘Give him something to eat and drink then go through to the staff room and make yourself a coffee.’

  And she’d make sure she stayed safely at least two doors and a corridor away from him.

  ‘Thank you.’ He breathed out slowly, relief flickering across his eyes, and then he smiled.

  God, that smile did her in every time. No. She stood tall. She was immune. She had to be.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ll just add it all to your bill, which is growing by the minute.’ She watched in amusement as Alex put the dog on the floor and then proceeded to follow it around, growling every time it started to get frisky or inquisitive. He clearly had no idea how to look after dogs.

  She closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten, wishing that seeing Alex Norton in charge of a puppy—or, rather, completely out of control with a puppy—didn’t make her knees weak and her ovaries prickle. ‘Why do I get the feeling that I’m going to regret this?’

  * * *

  ‘How’s she doing?’ Alex lowered his voice to a whisper and crept into the treatment room, almost fearful of disturbing Beth as she was so completely focused on the collie. But he’d waited and waited and now he was worried the old dog had passed on and she was in here grieving and dealing with it all on her own. But no, both vet and patient were holding on. ‘I’ve brought you a cup of tea, Beth. Thought you might need one.’

  As always, the sight of her made his heart stutter. Her long honey-coloured hair had fallen over her face as she titrated the IV drip attached to Meg’s paw, but he remembered every detail of her pretty features; the dark brown eyes that were warm to everyone, but him. With good cause, he knew. The perfect nose and mouth that had a generous smile...mostly. Not tonight, obviously.

  Yes, this was difficult. He hadn’t wanted to bring Spike here, but he’d run out of options. And he’d hoped Beth had had the day off. No such luck.

  It had been hard enough for the few weeks she’d filled in as the general practice receptionist when their regular one had suddenly taken ill, but he’d always managed to skirt past her and had tried to avoid any lengthy conversations about anything other than work. He’d breathed a sigh of relief when she’d left to take up a vet position here because time and distance, it appeared, didn’t make you forget. Strange, how the body instinctively remembered.

  She looked tired, but as beautiful as ever. Capable and professional and forthright, and still angry with him. Beth had always worn her heart on her sleeve and he knew he’d stamped all over it, so had no claim on her time or generosity. But for the zillionth time in his life he wondered whether he’d actually done the right thing all those years ago.

  Yes. He had. He’d had to set her free rather than lock her to him and an uncertain, potentially very dark and bleak future. And now? Even though things had gone a lot better than either he or the specialists had hoped, he still couldn’t give her what she wanted or deserved. But it didn’t hurt any less to have lost her. Never mind aching for the body he knew that fitted so well against his, the mouth that was made for his kisses. He fought against the rising regret. He’d done the right thing.

  Forcing himself to not look at her, he focused on her patient. It was easier that way, because looking at Beth made his heart hurt. And sing. And beat hard and fast to her rhythm. Life had definitely been easier without her around, but he didn’t want to think about not seeing her when she decided it was time to move on.

  He didn’t know anything about dog care but Meg’s breathing seemed less laboured than before. She appeared calmer and less stressed. But that could have been his imagination.

  Beth straightened and drew her gaze from the dog. Her eyes were soft and kind almost as if, for a moment, she’d forgotten to be angry with him. She took the cup he was holding out and had a sip. ‘Lovely, thank you. I’m parched actually.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure if you still took it white, no sugar.’

  ‘Yes. Oh.’ Beth blinked and just like that she slipped back into the woman she’d grown into whenever she was around him: guarded, professional, distanced. She swallowed and put the cup down on the counter.

  Damn. He shouldn’t have alluded to the past. ‘How’s Meg?’

  Beth breathed out and he could see she was shutting him out. The warmth in her eyes slowly seeped away, her back straightened and she turned away from him. ‘She’s holding her own. Just. She’s had a hell of a ride. But I’ve run the tests: full blood count, biochemical analysis and urinalysis. Done an ultrasound of her abdomen and then an endoscopy and it looks as if she’s got gastrointestinal bleeding and some liver damage.’ Her voice was measured and professional, as if she were giving a report to someone she didn’t know. ‘She’s been in a few times recently, with the odd cut or weird symptom that led to nothing, and has no other significant morbidity, so I’m thinking she’s eaten something. I can’t be sure, but with the damage to the gut it’s classic signs of ibuprofen poisoning. And if that’s the case we need to keep a very close eye on her over the next few days.’

  ‘Poor Dennis. It would be terrible if he lost Meg so soon after Nancy.’ As if the guy hadn’t been through enough already, having nursed his wife through cancer. ‘He’s not really coping, is he?’

  ‘No, he isn’t and it’s so sad.’ Beth gave a sharp shake of her head. ‘I know grief eats away at you and sometimes makes you distracted, so I need to have a chat with him about whether he may have left any tablets lying around that Meg could have got into. People don’t realise how dangerous some medications humans take are for pets.’

  ‘I’m his GP. From memory, he isn’t on ibuprofen but I’ll double-check at work tomorrow. It’s easily bought from most shops, so he might have some regardless. I haven’t seen much of him recently, but he’s clearly lost a bit of weight and he looks a bit dishevelled compared to when Nancy was alive. He always made an effort for her.’ He wondered how it was to have a love that lasted decades. Then stopped himself from going down that track because it wasn’t going to happen to him. ‘Maybe I could be there when you have that chat. Give him a bit of support, you know?’

  Beth raised her eyes and looked at him. He could see she was thinking hard about this. Was that because she didn’t want to spend any longer than necessary in his company? Were things so bad between them that they couldn’t even do a joint professional consultation? But she eventually nodded. ‘Okay. Yes. That’s probably a good idea. You know him better than I do. It’ll be good for him to have someone there that he’s familiar with.’

  ‘Good. Let me know when you’re planning to chat to him. Now, it’s getting late and I wondered if you’ve got time to just wave your magic wand over that little guy out there and see if he has a family who are missing him. And I don’t want to leave him too long on his own.’ At her wide eyes he reassured her, ‘I popped him in one of the holding cages with some biscuits and a toy duck. Yeah, I know, just add it to the bill, right?’

  She looked at her watch. ‘Shoot. I’ve been in here over two hours? I’m sorry. Poor pup. But I needed to deal with Meg.’

  ‘I know you did. But if there is a family out there, they’re going to be frantic. I called the police and there are no missing-dog reports. I’m stumped. You’re my last hope, Beth.’ He tried the smile again, hoping she’d at least smile back. Or even laugh. Beca
use if they had to spend time together then he’d prefer it without the daggers and sharp words.

  ‘We won’t be long, old girl. Hold on for me.’ She gave Meg a quick stroke then whipped round to Alex. ‘Come on, then, let’s get this sorted.’

  Wow. No smile. Definitely no laugh. She really hated him, and he didn’t blame her one bit. He walked through to the place where they kept the large crates. The little pup jumped up as they entered the room, tail wagging, paws thumping, and yelping so enthusiastically it tugged at Alex’s heart. ‘What kind of dog is he?

  Beth opened the cage and helped Spike jump free onto the ground. She bent down and ruffled the back of his neck. ‘This beautiful boy is the best kind there is. A pure-bred mongrel.’

  He was so out of his depth here. ‘Is that a thing?’

  ‘Alex, really? It means he’s a cross. I think there might be some Labrador in there. He has huge paws so he’s going to be big, but he hasn’t got a lab tail. This is more beagle. He’s got the tricolour patching, but...’ She frowned and ran her hands over Spike’s ears. ‘The ears are wrong...’

  ‘Wrong?’ Alex felt strangely protective all of a sudden. ‘There’s nothing wrong with his ears.’

  ‘I mean the ears are wrong for a beagle. Look, these are pricked. Beagle ears are pendant. Well, actually...’ she smiled and held up one ear ‘...he has one of each. I guess we’ll know more when he’s older and grown into himself.’

  ‘I don’t really need to know as I’m not keeping him.’ He absolutely could not have a pet. They were too tying. You couldn’t take a puppy climbing up a mountain. Hiking, yes, but not rock climbing. And nothing was going to stop Alex from doing the things that kept him sane. ‘Does he have a microchip?’

  She ran a scanner over Spike’s neck. Finally. Then she frowned. Repeated the scan. ‘No. Nothing.’

  ‘So, he’s a stray?’

  ‘Well, I’d say he’s at least three months old and the law now says a keeper—not an owner—has to microchip. If he hasn’t got one then either the keeper hasn’t got around to it yet or chances are he’s a stray, or lost or...’ she shrugged sadly ‘...dumped.’

  ‘Dumped? What the hell?’ He wasn’t going to keep the dog but, hell, dumped? ‘In winter? At Christmas? What happened to goodwill to all men and men’s best friends?’

  ‘It happens. Rather more than you’d think. Sometimes the dog is too fussy, or too difficult to train. Sometimes circumstances change and they have no room for a puppy any more. Sometimes they just fall out of love with the idea of having a pet.’ She pushed the pup’s mismatched ears back and rubbed his muzzle. ‘You are so gorgeous.’

  She was rewarded with a lick on her cheek and smiled. Finally. But it had taken a dog and not this human to crack that. It bothered him that even after all this time he still wanted to see the pretty smile that lit up her face and made her eyes dance brightly. He should have moved on. He had to move on, because he’d given up his chance with her and, besides, she wouldn’t want him again once she knew the truth he’d been hiding from her. From pretty much everyone.

  She stood and wiped her palms down her trousers. ‘You’re going to have to take him home, at least for tonight. Bring him back in the morning and we can see if anyone’s reported him missing by then.’

  ‘I can’t take him back there. He’s already weed on the carpet and nibbled a hole through my best climbing shoes.’

  ‘Oh, no? The horror! Really? That’s nothing compared to what I have to put up with in my job.’ Her hands hit her hips and her head tilted a little as she stared at him. ‘A nibbled shoe? Poor, poor Alex.’

  ‘Say it like you mean it.’

  ‘I mean every word.’ She shot him a look of disdain, but it was laced with a faint tinge of humour that gave him a powerful thump to the chest. Because he wanted her to forgive him for hurting her. He wanted things to be okay between them instead of this difficult defensive manner she took whenever she was with him. A smile was a good first step.

  But the smile quickly faded. ‘You know, Alex, I really haven’t got time for this. You tried the pound in Kendal, right? I’ll call the one in Ulverston. I know it’s a long shot, being so far away, but who knows?’

  He watched as she made the call and was thrown back eight years. How, when she was on the phone checking in on her mum, he’d wrap his arms round her waist and hold her close. How he’d run his fingertips over her freckles and try to count them, and she’d laugh and tell him that infinity was the number of freckles on her body and that he’d never, ever be able to count them all. How he’d nuzzle his face into her hair and tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. And she still was, without a doubt. Not just in the way she looked, but in her compassion and good-heartedness...if not towards him.

  He jumped when she said something and he realised she’d ended the call and was now talking to him. ‘The Ulverston pound is full too. They said they’re often the first place people ring when they’re missing a pup, but they’ve had no one call them over the last few days, and definitely not for a puppy matching this one’s description. They suggest you take him home and we’ll try again in the morning.’

  ‘We?’ He couldn’t suppress his grin.

  Her eyes blazed irritation. ‘You. I mean you’ll have to try in the morning. After you’ve taken him home.’

  ‘I’ve just told you, I won’t have anything left if he spends the night at my house. Can’t you have him? You have everything set up here for a puppy. Food, beds...you.’ A night with Beth? One more night?

  No.

  ‘No.’ Her lips pursed and he was glad that was something they both agreed on. ‘I stopped doing you favours a long time ago, Alex Norton. I can’t have a boisterous puppy in here stressing Meg out and distracting me from giving her all the love and attention she deserves. That’s just not fair. She needs peace and quiet.’ She gave him a look that seemed to say, Like me. I need peace and quiet away from you. ‘Maybe it would be good for you to think about someone other than yourself for a change and take—’

  ‘Hey, I’m a doctor. I think about other people all the time.’

  But that was what she thought. She believed he was selfish and self-centred. And he was. He’d had to be just to get through the months of debilitating treatment and recovery. But letting her go had been the single selfless act in the whole damned episode. He couldn’t have let her go through what he’d endured when his cousin had been sick; the long hours at the hospital desperately hoping for a miracle, the despair at Mikey’s suffering, the prayers and then...the loss of hope. He’d watched his family drowning in grief that had been raw and unending and all-consuming and had known the moment the specialists had sat him down and explained his prognosis that he wouldn’t put Beth through that.

  Clearly not wanting to hear any more, she went to the shop section and pulled supplies out for him. ‘Here are some training sheets if you can’t cope with a bit of wee. Put them on a floor where you don’t have carpet. Your kitchen, perhaps? Here’s a bed for him, a couple of toys. Some food. A soft cage you can put him in while you’re not able to watch him. Don’t worry if you don’t have the cash, we take all major credit cards.’ She scratched the back of the puppy’s neck. ‘There you go, Button. Do your worst at Alex’s.’

  ‘How about “be a good boy”? Or, “don’t wee on the heirloom rug or eat Alex’s favourite trainers”?’

  She eyed him wryly. ‘I thought you wanted me to say it like I mean it.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. And Button? His name is Spike.’

  ‘He is so far from a Spike it’s a joke. Look at those eyes—they’re like little dark buttons.’

  He couldn’t argue with that. ‘But Button is a...a feminine name and he’s not a girl. And that tail is all spiky.’

  ‘No way. It’s a sickle tail not a spike.’ She drew shapes in the air; one arcing and one pointing straight up. ‘Si
ckle. Spike. See the difference?’

  He ran his fingers up the fluffy tail. ‘It spikes if I hold it up.’

  ‘Whatever.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll just have to agree to disagree. Okay. Time to go, Button.’

  ‘Spike.’

  ‘Button.’ She held his gaze for longer than they’d managed to look at each other these last few weeks and his body prickled with heat at her fiery indignance. Yes, she still was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Why was his body reacting to her like this when he knew, rationally, that wanting her was the least best idea he’d had in a long time? Eventually, she drew her eyes away and sighed. ‘I can hear Meg whimpering. I have to go.’

  ‘And tomorrow morning?’ He tried to think about Spike and not about the prospect of seeing Beth again as soon as possible. ‘I’ve got a clinic booked from eight. My patients need peace and quiet, not a boisterous puppy distracting both me and them.’

  The corner of her mouth twitched as she registered the same words she’d used against him earlier. ‘You’re not giving up, are you?’

  ‘No. Beth, Spike needs you.’

  Both man and dog stared at her and he saw the softening in her eyes and the moment she finally relented. ‘Okay. Okay. Drop him off here first thing, before your clinic. I’m hoping Dennis will be here too so we can have that chat.’

  ‘Okay. Sure.’ He whispered to Spike, ‘See? She’s nice really. I’m persona non grata, but you’re not dog non grata.’

  He got an ear lick for that. And an eye roll from Beth. ‘And there’ll be reinforcements to keep an eye on Button while I try to get a little bit of rest between clients. And hopefully we can reunite him with his owner.’