Summer Rose (9 page)

“Come on, Jake.” Hunter latched onto Jake’s collar. “You and I will take care of business while the ladies stay out here and chat.” He glanced at Rose and then led the dog through the door into the back of the office.

Granny Jo settled herself in one of the plastic chairs. After putting her purse on the floor beside her, she folded her hands in her lap and then studied Rose. A few moments passed before she finally spoke. “So, what’s going on with you and the doc?”

Startled, Rose snapped her gaze to the old woman’s. “Excuse me?”

“Young lady, there’s two things I know for sure. The sun’s going down tonight and coming up tomorrow. And when two people look at each other like you two just did, there’s more going on than just a working relationship.”

“Wow! You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“No time. I’m not getting any younger. When I have something to say, I say it.”

Rose tipped her head so her hair hid the side of her face from Granny Jo and pretended to be engrossed in the paperwork on her desk.

“Well?”

Heat burned in Rose’s cheeks. She tossed the hair off her face with a twist of her head. “I’m afraid your intuition or radar or whatever you call it is wrong this time. There’s absolutely nothing going on.”
And not because I wouldn’t welcome it.

Again, one of Granny’s gray eyebrows arched. “Right, and at this very moment my Jake isn’t licking the doc’s cheek trying to sweet talk him out of that rabies booster.” But she didn’t press the subject. Rose breathed a relieved sigh and went back to work.

A half hour later, Hunter emerged from the back with Jake at his heels and turned him over to Granny Jo. “He’s all set. No heartworm, his leg has mended just fine and even though he tried to talk me out of the booster shot by washing my face with kisses, we got that done, too.” He leaned down and scratched behind Jake’s ear.

Rose stole a glance at Granny Jo, and this time both the old woman’s eyebrows were raised. And she smiled like a Cheshire cat.

The next morning passed fairly uneventfully. Outside appointments filled Hunter’s day and kept him out of the office. Davy arrived after lunch and had been engulfed in feeding the animals and making his usual visit to Sadie before heading home. Since Rose didn’t expect Hunter back until late afternoon, she’d spent the day rearranging the filing cabinets, which kept her mind off her handsome boss and what Granny Jo had inferred about Rose’s feelings for him.

Hunter’s previous receptionist had her own system, one that made it necessary for Rose to spend a lot of time looking for files in the wrong place, such as Martha Cramer’s file under the
M
’s instead of the
C
’s. Or Bubba Benson’s file under
L
for Lilac, his cow.

This lull had been the perfect opportunity to establish a system that made some sense. It had taken up all of her morning and most of the afternoon, but she was finally down to the last pile of manila folders. With no in-house appointments, by the time Davy finished feeding the animals, she’d be ready to call it a day, and they could close up shop and go home.

Exasperated that anyone could view this filing system as efficient, Rose picked up the last pile of folders, flopped them on her desk, sat and then began arranging them alphabetically according to the first initial of the pet owner’s last name. Just then, the four overnight patients in the backroom began to raise a fuss, which quickly escalated into a who-can-bark-louder-and-longer contest. Irritated by the noisy distraction and recalling how Hunter had calmed them down the first day she’d been here, Rose smacked the wall behind her. Her palm stung, but the barking ceased immediately, and she went back to work.

Only five minutes or so had passed when the front door burst open and banged against the wall. Rose jumped and looked up ready to reprimand Davy for his noisy entrance. But it wasn’t Davy . . . at least not
just
Davy.

A fairly large, marginally good-looking man dressed in a three-piece, navy suit; white shirt and red power tie filled the doorway. Clutched in the man’s right hand, the toes of his sneakers barely touching the floor, hung a tearful, squirming Davy.

“Let me go!”

The man glared down at the boy. “Quiet!”

“Mackenzie!” His bellow vibrated off Rose’s eardrums. “Mackenzie!”

Three-piece suit. Attitude out the ying-yang. Having the audacity to be physical with Davy. Not to mention, she’d talked enough on the phone with him that she’d recognize that voice anywhere. This had to be none other than Hunter’s nemesis, George Collins, the mayor of Carson.

Rose stood, glanced at Davy and then threw Collins a scathing look. “Dr. Mackenzie is out of the office today on house calls. I’m Rose Hamilton, his receptionist.” It took every ounce of control inside her to keep her voice even and not scream “Child abuse!” then vault the desk and tear Davy from his grasp.

“I want to see Mackenzie . . . Now.” he sneered.

“I already told you, he’s out of the office for the day and before you’ll get any further help from me, you’ll have to let go of the boy. You’re hurting him.” She glared at Collins. He glared back, but she refused to back down. Instead, she pursed her lips to let him know that nothing would pass them until the boy was released.

Anger shot from his eyes like darts from a dart gun. He let go of Davy, and the boy had to grab the desk to keep from falling to his knees. “Happy?”

Davy skittered away from his father’s reach to the far side of the room.

Rose nodded. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“You can tell Mackenzie I want to talk to him.”

Struggling to keep her temper in check, she took a deep, cleansing breath and modified her tone. “I’ve already told you he’s not here today. Can I give him a message?”

“You can. You can tell him that Davy quit!” Collins made no effort to harness his anger.

Determined not to show this bully any fear, Rose straightened her spine. Besides, he might be willing to look like a jerk in front of his son, but she wasn’t.

Very calmly, she asked, “And the reason would be . . .”

Her question seemed to fuel his anger. He charged the desk. Though he towered at least a full foot over her, Rose stood her ground. “The reason would be that I won’t have my son hanging around animals that could eat him.”

“Really, Mr. Collins, they—”

“Mayor Collins.”

Rose could have sworn his chest expanded a few sizes.

This bully’s intimidation tactics might work on the town council, but they weren’t going to work on her. She’d grown up in foster homes with some pretty tough kids and had learned how to handle guys who thought yelling and shaking a fist could get them what they wanted.

She forced a complacent smile. “Mr. Collins. Those animals are harmless babies. None of them will hurt Davy. He loves them, and they love him.”

“Really? Well, I just found him in a cage with a wolf that I would hardly call a baby.”

Darn! She’d forgotten about Sadie.

“It was snarling and growling like it was gonna eat me.”

“Well, I can see she didn’t.” Obviously, even the wolf had limits.

He slammed his palm on the desk. Despite herself, Rose flinched. “This is no joking matter.”

“No, it’s not. If the way you dragged him in here is anything to go by, then Sadie was upset because you were probably manhandling Davy.”

George’s face was nearly crimson. “He’s my kid, and if I want to manhandle him, I will. No wolf is gonna stop me.”

Oh no? Give her half a chance, and she’ll have you for lunch, you pompous . . .
Rose’s tightly controlled temper broke loose. “Well, she may not stop you, but I will.”

George leaned closer, bringing his face mere inches from Rose’s. “And exactly how do you plan to do that, Missy?”

“I suggest you back off, Collins. Now!”

Both Rose and Collins swung toward the stern voice coming from behind George. Hunter stood just inside the door, glaring at George. Evidently the rage in Hunter’s expression hit home with Collins. He backed away from Rose, grabbed Davy and headed for the door.

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” he snarled at Hunter as he squeezed past him and stalked to his car with Davy in tow.

“I’m sure I haven’t,” Hunter murmured.

Rose went to stand beside him. Both of them watched as George started his car and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving a plume of dust behind.

When George’s silver Lexus had disappeared through the gate, she turned to Hunter. “What do you think he’ll do?”

Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know, but, knowing him as I do, I can tell you for sure that it won’t be pleasant.”

Starting with the day after
Collins’ visit, a ball of dread formed in Rose’s stomach every time the phone rang. Both she and Hunter had been on edge waiting for George Collins’ other custom-made wingtip to drop. But to their surprise and relief, as the day passed, nothing happened. However, a gut feeling told Rose that George’s parting threat had been a valid one, and they had not heard the last of him.

Late in that afternoon, a car pulling up outside drew Rose’s attention. She recognized the driver immediately as Lydia Collins, Davy’s mom. She’d brought Davy to work several times when the weather had been bad, and he couldn’t ride his bike.

Lydia had become something of a local celebrity since she’d started doing a show for the talk radio station in Charleston. Rose listened to the show faithfully and felt as though she already knew Lydia.

“Hi!” Lydia smiled as she came through the door followed by Davy.

“Hi! What brings you here?”

“Davy’s come to ask if he can have his job back.” Lydia smiled down at her son, her expression filled with a mother’s love.

Rose looked from Lydia to Davy’s hopeful expression. “What about—”

“George?” Lydia offered. Rose nodded. “He won’t be a problem. I have full custody of Davy, and he has my permission to work here. I know Dr. Mackenzie would not allow him to do anything dangerous.”

Not feeling she had the authority to say yes or no, Rose went to the connecting door. “Doctor, can you please come out here?”

A few moments later, Hunter emerged. “Yes?’ He noticed Davy and Lydia. “Hi.”

“Doctor, Davy would like his job back, if that’s okay with you.” Rose noticed that Davy still clung to his mother’s hand. For moral support, no doubt.

Hunter smiled at the boy. “As far as I’m concerned, he never quit.”

“Ya mean it, Doc?”

“Like I said. I don’t remember you telling me you quit.” Hunter put the emphasis on
you
.

Davy’s face broke into a wide grin. “Cool. Can I go see Sadie?”

“May I,” his mother corrected.

“Yeah. May I?”

Hunter looked at Lydia. She nodded. “You sure can. She’s been wondering where you’ve been.”

Before anyone could blink, Davy was out the door and on a dead run toward the wolf’s shelter. The three adults laughed.

“Thank you, Hunter,” Lydia said, still watching her son as he raced across the yard. “All he’s talked about since George dragged him out of here is that wolf.”

Hunter shook his head. “I don’t know how he did it, but he’s developed a relationship with her that is beyond anything I’ve ever seen or heard tell of between a wild animal and a human.”

Lydia winked. “That’s my boy.” Then she grew serious. “He’s truly amazing. I’ve seen him feed a female deer from his hand the first time he approached her. I’ve seen squirrels sit on his shoulder and eat nuts. They seem to sense that he’s special and would never harm them. He communicates with them somehow, like they have a silent language all their own. He loves all animals, and I would never come between him and that love. No matter what George says, Davy can stay here as long as you want him here. I’ve already told George to stay out of it.”

Hunter knew that George wouldn’t stay out of it, that he’d find a way to stop Davy and perhaps even close the wildlife refuge. He’d be living in a fool’s paradise if he thought otherwise. “Thanks, Lydia. Davy is a good worker and a great asset to this place. He’s got a job here as long as he cares to have one.”
Or until George makes good his threat.

Hunter watched as Rose cleared
her desk of the remains of the lunch he’d brought for them from Terri’s Tearoom on his way through town. The afternoon sun flashed a beam of light through the glass in the front door and highlighted the red in Rose’s hair. He had all he could do not to grab a handful and let the strands sift through his fingers.

“What?”

He blinked and realized that she’d caught him staring at her. “I . . . uh . . .” He fumbled for words and snatched at the first thing that entered his head. “You have a little mustard on your face, right there.”

He pointed at his own cheek. She wiped at it but missed it. He reached across the desk and removed the mustard with the pad of his thumb. The slight physical contact brought to life all the emotions he’d been suppressing since he’d first laid eyes on her. Immediately he pulled back.

“Thanks,” she whispered as if in a trance, while running her fingertips over the spot he’d just touched.

Quickly averting his gaze from her mesmerizing, beautiful eyes, he wiped the mustard on his thumb on a paper napkin and dropped it in the wastebasket beside the desk. He wanted to bolt into the safer sanctuary of the backroom, but didn’t want it to look like he was running away from her either. Instead, trying for casual, he picked up his soda can and took a sip.

What he needed was some neutral ground, ground that wouldn’t bring to life any sexual innuendos or get him thinking about things that could only end dangerously for both of them.

“How’s the lion cub doing? Is he still eating for you?” He knew very well how the cub was doing. He’d checked on him daily. But he was grasping at straws to keep the conversation in an area that didn’t end up with him paying more attention to the speaker than the subject.

Rose laughed. “He’s doing great, but not because I’m feeding him. Give the credit to Davy. He has some closet secret to getting these animals to do whatever he wants them to do. He’s got the cub eating dry food already.” She leaned back in her chair. “So how did your house calls go yesterday? What with all the excitement, I never got a chance to ask.”

It pleased Hunter that she had taken an interest in the business. His old receptionist put in her eight hours, could have cared less about the business or the patients and couldn’t get out of there fast enough at the end of the day. He’d always suspected that, unlike Rose, she really didn’t care for animals.

“Pretty smoothly, until I got to Sam Watkins’ farm. His daughter thought Missy Peggy, the pig she’s grooming as a 4-H project, was sick, so the girl brought her into the house. Then they couldn’t find her. Turns out, unbeknownst to anyone, Peggy was messing with one of the males, and she’d picked Mrs. Watkins’ closet to give birth to six little piglets—right inside her new suitcase.”

Rose laughed out loud. Hunter caught his breath as the sound washed over him like a warm summer shower. He coughed and straightened in the chair.

“That reminds me . . .” Rose sobered and then glanced at him as if hesitant about going on.

“Reminds you of what?” he prompted.

She leaned on her forearms and smiled. “My friend Beth told me about the time her mom was putting away clean linens in the bathroom. The phone rang, and she went to answer it, then got sidetracked doing something else. When she got back, their cat had had kittens right on top of the clean laundry.” She giggled and sounded like the younger girl she must have been when Beth related the story.