LITMIR.BIZ

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leveled Chris LaFarge, his vet tech, a glance. “Excuse me?”

      “Come on. No use denying it. You’ve been cranky all day. Will Sullivan pull another one on you?”

      Scrubbing his hands, Ryan narrowed his gaze. He couldn’t help comparing people to animals. Short and stocky with thick brown hair and a flat nose, Chris, the full-time vet tech, had always been a tenacious bulldog in Ryan’s mind.

      “I was hoping your attitude might improve so we could discuss all this overtime.”

      “You have a problem making money?”

      “Naw, I like taking your money, Doc, but I’ve been thinking.” Chris tore off a fresh plastic bag for the trash bin.

      “I’m in trouble now.” Ryan reached for a paper towel and dried his hands and forearms. He stepped back from the stainless-steel sink to stop the water from flowing.

      “It’s time you hired more help around here. Since Doc Hammond retired, it’s only getting busier and busier.”

      “I’m not complaining, am I?” Ryan asked.

      “No, but you don’t have a life, either.” He sprayed the counters with disinfectant and wiped them down, then glanced up. “Why, I think you’d even work Sundays if Pastor Jameson hadn’t finally lassoed you into ushering at first service.”

      If Ryan thought his friend was done railing on him, he was wrong. Chris just kept talking, all the while efficiently restoring the counters and supply cupboards to order.

      “You’re going to have to let go of the past, Doc.”

      “What?” Ryan’s head jerked up at the comment.

      “I’ve heard the stories.”

      “Are you kidding me? What stories?”

      “Something about a broken engagement and your true love running off.”

      Ryan groaned loudly. “Sounds like the lyrics to a bad country song. Where do you get this stuff?”

      “Will Sullivan, I expect.”

      “Sullivan again? He’s feeding you a load of cow pies.”

      “You telling me none of it’s true?” Chris scratched his head.

      “There might be a grain of truth buried somewhere in that malarkey but not enough to be recognizable.”

      “You weren’t jilted at the altar?”

      “No.”

      “She didn’t run off in her graduation cap and gown?”

      “No.”

      “Hmm.”

      Ryan leaned back, enjoying the fact that for once Chris was at a loss for words. It didn’t last long.

      “All the same, how many times have Joanie and I tried to get you over for dinner?”

      There was no point responding. They both knew that if it was merely a home-cooked meal he’d been invited to, Ryan would have probably shown up more often than not. Generally, however, what appeared to be an innocent invite to supper was actually a clever matchmaking scheme.

      “And here’s the other thing, Doc.”

      “The other thing?”

      Chris nodded and motioned to the front room. “You’re going to have to do something about that sorry excuse out there answering phones.” He shook his head. “Trouble with you is you only see the good in folks. That’s why you haven’t noticed she spends most of her day talking to her boyfriend and polishing her nails. You need someone who can handle billing and vendors. Not just a warm body who occasionally picks up the phone.”

      This time Ryan paused at Chris’s words. He frowned and remembered Kait and Jenna’s visit. Ryan liked to think he was focused. Generally, however, it was simply tunnel vision. While he loved to work with animals, and he liked people, he wasn’t real good at the business end of things at the clinic. And Doc Hammond’s sudden retirement also meant he’d taken Mrs. Hammond, their one-woman office staff, with him.

      “Okay. Let me think on this a bit.”

      As much as he hated to purposely hand Chris a free ride to another “I told you so,” the vet tech was right.

      “While you’re at it, maybe you could start thinking about dating and settling down.”

      “Whoa. Why does a conversation with you have more ups and downs than a bull straight out of the shoot? Mind telling me what dating has to do with the conversation?”

      “Simple. Make some changes at the clinic and you’ll have time to court a woman. Why, I bet you don’t even have a date for Will Sullivan’s wedding.”

      “I’m the best man. I thought all I had to do is show up and make a speech.”

      “Are you hearing anything I’m saying?”

      “I don’t remember you telling me that particular piece of information.”

      A date for a wedding? Who knew? Ryan ran a hand through his hair. While Chris’s logic was skewed, Ryan had to admit it had occurred to him on odd occasions that he just might indeed be running out of time. After all, he sure didn’t want to find himself alone in his dotage, with only a mismatched menagerie of pets for company. He loved kids and wouldn’t mind a few of his own. A daughter like his niece Faith, or …

      An image of a dark-haired little girl flashed through his mind.

      Chances were he had already run out of time.

      Kait dried her hands on a towel and leaned against the screen door looking out at the front yard. The huge sugar maple near the street was barren of leaves, the naked branches dead and the bark peeling. It would have to be cut down which meant one more problem to solve, one more thing to do and much too much to think about.

      “Oh, Lord.” She closed her eyes for a moment and prayed. “Right now I ask for wisdom and guidance as I prepare to talk to Ryan and make decisions for the future. Amen.”

      When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was an ancient, mud-colored pickup coming round the corner. The Ford’s aged muffler vibrated loudly in the silence of the evening.

      Illuminated by the glow of the street lamp, she could see every last rusted dent in the old truck. The rear bumper was gone, and the front bumper looked like it would be tempted to fall off with very little encouragement.

      When the pickup stopped across the street, she realized the driver was Ryan.

      Obviously he could afford a new vehicle yet he chose one with more dents than not. What did that say about him? Perhaps this was Ryan’s way of rebelling against his parents’ affluence.

      He hung his head for a minute then looked up at the house before turning off the engine.

      Slipping out the screen door, Kait ran a quick finger under her eyes and smoothed back her ponytail. She walked to the rail.

      Ryan’s gaze swept the yard before he made his way to the front steps. His hands were shoved in the front pockets of his worn jeans as he stood, one boot on the rough cement of the sidewalk and one on the porch steps. The blue cotton shirt he wore was unbuttoned; with the sleeves rolled up, it hung loose over a navy T-shirt that stretched across a broad, muscular chest.

      Kait swallowed, and averted her eyes. Ryan was always bigger than life—clearly the stuff women’s dreams were made of.

      She frowned. This had to stop. There was no time for dreams in her life.

      “When you first moved to Granby, I used to drive by your house on a regular basis.”

      The simple statement surprised her. His face revealed nothing.

      “I never saw you,” she said.

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