Helen Myers – The Dashing Doc Next Door (страница 3)

“For what?”

“He’s not getting to go to the shop with me the way he does with Aunt Marsha.”

“Whoa. That would do it.”

“I did come home twice to let him outside. And I petted him extra this evening when I got home from the hospital. Oh—and he’d had the canned food that she says is his favorite, that she only gives him on special occasions.”

“Ah, the truth emerges,” Gage said, lowering his head to speak into the basset hound’s ear. “A pat on the rump and canned meat byproducts, and she thinks she’s got you under control.”

With a choking sound, Brooke stopped in her tracks. “Then you do think I’m not being good enough to him?”

“I think he’s lonely. Why can’t he be at the shop with you?” Gage asked, sounding more curious than judgmental. “It’s his second home. Customers would give him the extra attention he’s used to getting.”

Brooke understood that Humphrey was a replacement for her in many ways, now that she was an adult and unable to visit Aunt Marsha as often as she would like. She also grasped that animal care was Gage’s calling, but that didn’t mean he or anyone else had a right to put a guilt trip on her. She did that well enough without any help. “Not everyone and everything should or can revolve around Humphrey, Doctor.”

“Gage.”

Ignoring his mischievous reply, she continued, “You probably don’t think there’s much to running a florist—”

“I didn’t say that.”

His tone was quiet, even gentle, which made Brooke press her lips together as she accepted that she’d jumped to conclusions again. “What I mean is that it’s taken every bit of my attention and ability to get arrangement orders filled, what with the store being busier than ever, now that one of the other two florists in town has retired and closed down her business. Don’t get me wrong, Naomi has been good to come out of retirement to help in emergencies, and Kiki is managing the front just fine on her own, but—”

“I thought you worked at the shop when you visited?”

“When I was a child. I could put a single rosebud in a vase with a sprig of baby’s breath or a fern. In time I learned a few more things, but I’ve forgotten most of that, and styles change. The point I’m trying to make is, first and foremost, I’m here for my aunt, not to entertain a dog. Then there’s the matter of the doors opening every few minutes. I’d be a wreck if I’m constantly checking to make sure someone didn’t inadvertently let Humphrey out into the street.”

Gage nodded, then began walking again. “You should have called me and told me you were struggling. I would have told you to drop him off at the clinic. He’d fit right in with Roy and the boys.”

It was that simple? “I’m afraid I don’t know who they are.” Boys? Her aunt hadn’t said anything about children, and he’d just said he was single.

“Roy Quinn is my manager,” Gage said, amusement entering his voice again. “Anywhere else, he’d be called a receptionist, but he tends to get all puffy and glares if he’s called that—and he has the Neanderthal eyebrows to do it. Besides, he does too much other stuff for such a restrictive title. He could be a full-fledged technician, but he balks at fulfilling the necessary requirements to get certified.”

“Stubborn. I see why you think Humphrey would fit in.”

After a soft chuckle, Gage admitted, “There’s no denying he can be. But behind all of that gruff exterior, he’s mostly a teddy bear. He’s sure been a welcome change from the young ladies who thought the receptionist job was step one to becoming Mrs. Sullivan.”

“Awkward,” Brooke said with a nod, able to finally speak from experience and sympathy. She’d witnessed enough behavior like that in her professional world, where some girls only went to college to find the wealthiest husband possible. “Then again, I don’t know what options girls have out here where the pickings are undoubtedly slimmer. A big-hearted, patient doctor must seem like a fairy tale come true.”

“You left out cute.”

His charm was potent, and Brooke had to work at keeping her expression benign. “Definitely cute.” But not willing to venture any farther down Flirtation Lane with him, she asked, “So is it Roy who has the sons? They help out at the clinic, too?”

“Say what?” After a brief, confused look, Gage uttered a low, “Ah! The boys I was referring to are his military veteran pals. Roy’s single, too, and his one request in taking the job was for me to allow a table and chairs in the corner of the reception room. He has some VFW buddies who like to congregate daily. The male version of the female coffee klatch of old. They’d already been run out of the local donut shop, and the grocery’s deli department, and they’d worn out their welcome in the bank’s lobby.”

“Are they all single, too?”

“Not quite. One has a wife in a nursing home, but her Alzheimer’s is so advanced that he can’t bear to spend more than a few minutes a day with her. Another is divorced—and that’s not a bad thing, as far as he’s concerned. The rest are widowers.”

“Well, it’s another testament to your generosity and goodwill that you’re so accommodating,” Brooke said.

“They’re not in the way,” Gage replied with a dismissive shrug. “Interestingly, after their military service, they were all farmers or businessmen in the area, so they pretty much know everyone who comes in and can supply me with a wealth of background information on clients and their livestock if I’m not familiar with someone.”

Brooke could see both the pros and cons of their arrangement. “Were you, by chance, in the military, too?” she asked as they turned into her aunt’s driveway. “I sense respect as much as affection when you speak about them.”

“I spent eight years in the U.S. Army Reserves.”

His almost apologetic reply won a quick glance from her. “What? That’s noble, too.”

Gage took several seconds to answer. “The guys ribbed me about it at first. It was the usual taunting about trying to avoid active duty, which I wasn’t. I took that route to get through school and get my practice established. It was only after they learned what a trial it had been not to lose my business that they really rallied behind me. We’re pretty much one big mutual-admiration society now.”

Sensing that he’d been modest and had struggled greatly, Brooke felt humbled. “Here I’ve been feeling sorry for myself because I’ve lost my job, thanks to government regulations, and can’t interview for a new one because I’m here helping Aunt Marsha, and all the while you’ve endured much heavier and dangerous burdens.” With new respect and concern, she asked, “Is there a chance you’ll have to go away again?”

“Nah, I finished up a couple years ago. As much as I gained from the experience, it was tough on my clients, as well as the friends who donated their time to keep the clinic running. I’m relieved, too. You know how hot it gets in Texas, but that’s nothing compared to the Middle Eastern deserts. It’s not an endurance test I ever want to go through again, especially at my age.”

“Right, all that gray hair is practically glowing like neon in the moonlight,” Brooke said, matching his easygoing tone. If he did have any gray hair, she had yet to notice it, even in daylight, amid the various shades of brown and gold.

“Hey, I have all of the scars and aches that come with this profession.”

Brooke paused at the gate. “Still very young for having experienced as much as you have. Thank you for sharing that. Also for your time. It helps me better understand why Aunt Marsha speaks of you with such affection—and not just because you saved her countless hours of suffering after her fall.”

“I’m partial to her, too.” Gage stroked Humphrey soothingly as he waited for her to open the gate. “She’s helped me every bit as much as I may have her. She keeps an eye on things when I’m not around. Did she tell you about how she called me one morning on my cell phone? I’d already left to get an early start at the clinic and she’d spotted a squirrel gnawing its way into my attic. By the time I could return home, the critter was inside and had almost chewed through wires in two spots. That could easily have resulted in a costly fire if left untended.”

While cute enough in cartoons and on greeting cards, the creatures were rats with couture tails, to Brooke’s thinking. “Doesn’t that make you want to cut down all of the nut-bearing trees around here to force them to move?”

As Gage threw back his head, his laugh filled the humid night air. “Are you sure you were born in Texas? Nature may not be perfect, but we civilized folks aren’t, either.”

“At least we don’t carry fleas and diseases.”

“You mean you’ve never had the flu? Chicken pox? Measles?”

Brooke should have known better than to criticize creatures in front of such a devoted animal lover. “Okay, okay, I get your point.” She began reaching for the basset hound, only to see Gage step out of her reach and nod toward the house.

“How about I set this old boy inside for you? I have a feeling that if you put him down after we close this gate, he’ll just waddle straight for the hole and crawl under the fence again.”

“Good thought.” Brooke made a mental note to get the key to her aunt’s storage shed first thing in the morning and get a shovel to close that latest exit spot.