Montana Nights

Chapter 1 : Montana Morning

Mila

Hopping around on one foot, I tried to stuff my bare leg into my jeans. Harper's sharp, ever-excited voice rang out clearly from my phone.

“Of course you're late. How late were you and Dr. Wilma up last night?"

Grunting and yawning in a strange combination, I finally worked my foot into my pant leg. “Too late. I think we finally left the clinic around three am, or so."

“That was the… Johnson dog?"

“Yeah."

Harper tapped on the clinic's keyboard in the background while I pulled up my jeans and buttoned the waist.

“What happened with Cooter?"

I chuckled while pulling my favorite scrubs over my head.

Cooter forgot how big he was and thought he could take on anything, as usual.

“Cooter slipped through the door and decided to chase George Hanks' bull. The bull didn't appreciate it much and kicked Cooter in the back leg. Snapped the femur."

Harper hissed while I grabbed my car keys and looked for my purse.

“Just get here as soon as you can. Without speeding. Bring me a couple of tacos from Fry Bread's, will ya?" Harper pleaded in an exhausted tone.

“You got it, Harper. Walking out the door now."

Grabbing my phone, I ended the call and stuffed it into my back pocket. Finding my purse under last night's discarded, blood-spattered scrub top, I snatched it up by the handles and rushed to the door. Slowing down just long enough to blow a kiss at the framed picture of my mom and dad near the door.

I miss y'all. Who knew the two years since your death would have flowed by in such a rush?

Thoughts of my elder sister, Lorraine, popped into my head as I pulled my phone from my pocket, I quickly sent her a text.

'When will it be a good time 4 me 2 come over? Miss y'all.'

Pressing send, I held my breath.

Delivered… and no response. Fine, Lorraine. Leave me on read.

With no more time to waste, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and locked my one bed, one bath apartment behind me as I power walked to my little, white, practical car. My car wasn't much, but it got me to and from work perfectly fine, and this morning would end up being just like any other.

The sun had already risen above the horizon, though the weak fall light had yet to crest the mountains. Montana's extended twilight had baffled me when I had first moved here from the Texas hill country. The remaining colorful leaves of deciduous trees had fallen, leaving only the evergreen of the conifers on the landscape outside my car windows.

As I pulled into Fry Bread's parking lot, I looked forward to the delicious food they made and quickly put in my order before walking over to the local coffee shop next door. When I saw who came over to take my order, a silent groan erupted in my mind.

My mood reflected perfectly on the sour expression of the waitress.

Why did Sophie have to be on shift?

A tight, fake smile replaced the momentary honesty of Sophie's sour expression. With her perfect long, bottle-blonde hair, red-carpet-ready make-up, and rhinestone-studded nails, Sophie looked like i********: Barbie.

How does she afford all that? Getting dolled up like that must cost more than I make in a month…

I blinked and ordered coffee, hoping to avoid engaging with Sophie any further. Luckily, John at Fry Bread's called out and waved me over, letting me know my order was ready.

“I don't know how you can eat that, Mila. All that grease would go straight to my hips."

My shoulders crept up towards my ears.

I don't care what the grease does to you, Sophie. I'm hungry and this food smells wonderful. Grease be damned.

“Well, Sophie, Dr. Wilma's clinic is a physically demanding job and Harper asked me to pick up tacos, so…"

Sophie shrugged and handed me my steaming coffee. “Well, she has the metabolism for it."

I resisted the urge to throw the coffee in her face, plastered on a fake smile of my own, and walked away.

“You forgot to tip!"

Ignoring Sophie as if I couldn't even hear her, I picked up my tacos.

“Sophie looks pissed. What did you say?"

“I didn't say s**t, John. I don't know how I managed to escape without saying something, but I somehow survived the encounter."

John laughed. We exchanged waves, and I returned to my car and drove to work.

Sophie may play dress up every day, but I have a practical job that requires practical clothes, like jeans and scrubs. What's the point of more than a ponytail when I may have to wash ten dogs in a row?

The gravel of the clinic's drive popped under my tires as I pulled in. Customer vehicles already filled all the clinic's good parking spots, so I pulled my little car up next to Daniel's single-cab pickup truck, which had been parked to the side next to the fence.

Exiting my car, arms laden with tacos, purse, and coffee. I trudged through the clinic's side door into a wall of chaotic noise.

Barks, meows, and the shushing of pet owners competed with the constant whine of the clinic's overworked HVAC system while children and vet techs attempted to speak over the chaos.

Ah, another day in paradise.

Compared to the lonely silence of my apartment, the vibrancy of the clinic felt more like home to me. I drew in a satisfied breath and smiled as I dodged a baby alpaca a client attempted to lead down a hallway.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Snyder! Breakfast coming through!"

Mrs. Snyder glanced over at me and smiled while herding the alpaca into the largest of the exam rooms. “Hi, Mila! Good to see you!"

I waved my coffee at her and slipped into the back area. Quiet and calm, compared to the front of the clinic, Harper's desk filled most of the office. Blue-eyed, and blue-haired, Harper stood barely five-foot-two. The one-hundred pound, tiny ball of fury turned to me and smiled, then continued her phone conversation while accepting her tacos.

“Yes, Mr. Williams. Dr. Wilma only does spays during those hours and she's booked for the next three months. Yes, Sir, I do understand. No, Sir. No. The best I can do is book you an appointment for three months from now and put you on the waiting list, in case of a cancellation…"

I waved at her and left her office, headed to the employee lounge to stuff my purse into my locker. As I sipped my coffee and dodged Jess, the on-site groomer, who carried a tiny, leggy, curly-haired dog who shook and whined the entire time.

“Hey, Jess."

“Hi, Mila. Welcome to the nuthouse. Shhh, Cricket. No whining. Things will be fine. We're just going to get you clean…"

Jess's voice faded as she carried Cricket to the dog wash, an old, clawfoot bathtub complete with a cut-off garden hose. I dashed into the employee lounge and stashed my purse, then hustled to the exam rooms.

Before I could reach them, Dr. Wilma's face popped out from a doorway and she waved me over.

“Come, hold this dog so I can clip this infected toenail. It curled and grew up into the pad."

“Oh, that's terrible! Be right there." I called out, as I deposited my coffee cup on one of the shelves by the door and slipped into the back treatment room. A shaggy Shih Tzu glared at me, holding its paw up against its body, protective of the injury.

“Hey, there, baby. I hear you aren't feeling good.."

Dr. Wilma interrupted my cooing attempts to soothe the dog. “Watch her. She's a biter."

“Good thing I have fast hands, then." I replied with a smile as Dr. Wilma chuckled in response as we approached the animal.

“Ready, Mila?" She asked me.

“Yes, Doctor."

“Ok, go!"

I cooed, soothing the dog while quickly securing my grip. Dr. Wilma moved for the foot before I could even blink, her practiced hands faster than I could even see.

She clipped the ingrown nail in two places and carefully removed the portion which had stuck in the dog's paw. As she moved back, out of the little dog's possible reach, I relaxed my grip, hushing the animal to help bring it reassurance.

The little dog's eyes relaxed. His face looked relieved as he licked his paw.

“See? It wasn't so bad, was it?" I asked him with a smile. “I bet you feel so much better now, don't you?"

“Good teamwork, Mila. Can you return him to the kennel?" Dr. Wilma asked. “Francine Mayweather dropped little Gizmo off earlier."

“Of course, Doc. Come on, Gizmo. Let's go back to the nice kennel. You can curl up on a towel and enjoy your de-nailed paw."

Scooping Gizmo into my arms, I made my way back to the small kennels. Cats meowed at me, rubbing against the wire doors of their cages as I walked by, dodging paws reaching out to ensnare a passing sleeve.

Small dogs barked and whined, begging to be released to the wild. In one small kennel, a couple of rabbits chewed on a pile of Thompson grass hay. I stopped when I reached the kennel marked with Gizmo's name and placed him in, secured the door, and spun on my heel.

Gizmo immediately added his barking to the din, but I had no time to comfort any of the animals who only wished to return home. I had my daily list of stuff to do, and though playing with the animals seemed like more fun—I didn't have time for it.

“The doc called us to the break room. Apparently, she has an announcement!" Daniel, the large animal tech, hollered as he poked his head in the doorway, shouting over the tumult.

“Huh. I wonder what she wants."

Daniel shrugged. “No clue, but she's called everyone in."

“Alright, I'm coming."

Daniel's face disappeared back into the hallway and I followed at my best speed while avoiding the gauntlet of extended cat paws. By the time I reached the breakroom, everyone else sat in chairs or leaned against walls or tables and Dr. Wilma had already begun to speak.

“So, I'm pregnant."

Collective gasps echoed around the room as I about choked. Struggling to breathe, I stumbled my way over and plopped in the chair next to Harper.

Dr. Wilma blinked at us until we absorbed the news. Most of us were too dumbfounded to speak. Then Hyper-Active Harper blurted out what we were all thinking.

“Oh my God! Congrats! How far along are you? Oh my God, Doc! What will happen to the clinic?"

Dr. Wilma waved her hands at us all, in an effort to calm the sudden exclamations.

“Thank you, Harper. Four months along and nothing will happen to the clinic. Don't act like a pregnancy is the death of my business."

Daniel, notoriously thicker, mentally, than the rest of us, blurted out the biggest question on our collective minds. “But who will treat the animals when you have the baby?"

“That's what I want to tell you, if everyone will calm down. I hired an assistant vet, fresh out of Texas A & M. Dr. Greer, will you join us?"

Everyone fell silent, though most of our mouths hung open after the rapid series of shocks. From around the corner walked in a man in his late twenties. Bright green eyes sparkled under a mop of glossy black hair.

My breath caught in my chest, my heart pounding in my ears. He hung his head just a little, obviously shy. He stood slightly taller than Daniel, so I guestimated his height at about six-foot-two.

Inside my chest, my heart skipped a beat as I took him in. Strong cheekbones spread out from a distinguished nose over bow-shaped lips. Very fit, his biceps strained the blue-striped, western-cut button-down shirt he wore over well-developed pecs.

He's built with a capital B.

He seemed to shine. Nothing else ever looked so good under the harsh lights of the employee lounge. I salivated.

I am in so much trouble…

Dr. Wilma's practical voice cut through my initial man-thirst.

“Mila, you assist Dr. Ethan today. Everyone back to work. There will be plenty of time to get acquainted later."

I need to get laid… Shut your mouth, Inner Voice. Workplace romances never work out. Don't go drooling over every hot Veterinarian you see…

I felt my cheeks burn and hoped beyond hope no one noticed.

“Sure thing. If you will follow me, Dr…"

“Call me Ethan…"

His deep voice washed over me, cozy and warm. Dr. Ethan spoke with a practiced precision that exuded professionalism and confidence.

I could get used to that voice.

“Don't you dare call him Ethan." Dr. Wilma said quickly. “Everyone will remember you're a Doctor. You & I did not spend all that time and money getting doctorates just to have people forget that. I'm Dr. Wilma and you are Dr. Ethan."

Dr. Wilma grabbed a patient chart and entered Exam Room #1. Dr. Ethan blushed, becoming only more thirst-worthy as I grabbed the chart of Exam Room #2 and waved him into the room.

We all tried to get back to business, but a kitten awaited us in Exam Room #2 and Dr. Ethan's shy exterior melted at the sight.

And all my defenses melted right along with his…