Painted Petals

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

July

The day had dawned bright and blue, cotton ball clouds floating lazily across the sky. The air was filled with cheery birdsong and the perfume of summer flowers, many of which enjoyed the buzzing visit of bees. It was the sort of day that made Clara want to go on a hike or find a shady spot under a tree and get lost in the pages of a good book. But still being relatively new in town with a lot of time and money invested in her vet clinic, The Ark, she chose to work, leaving the front door open to invite in the surprising cool breeze.

It had been unbearably hot and stuffy just two days ago until the humidity was broken by a good dosing of ground-saturating rain.

“Am I the only one wishing there was a beach around here?” The voice was that of Miss Maggie, her first good friend in Sugarbush Creek. She sat behind the reception desk, staring forlornly out the big bay window at the parking lot and beyond. “Crashing waves, warm sunshine, and bare-chested men in bathing trunks.”

Clara smiled. A week before she’d put up the ‘Help Wanted’ sign, expecting to run the gambit of people looking for a decent wage as well as a handful of hopeful teenage girls with a love for animals. But it was Maggie who walked through the door, promptly removed the sign, and asked what her first task would be. Taken aback Clara stuttered, then pointed at some filing that needed doing, though there wasn’t much. Without a formal interview Miss Maggie got the position and Clara considered it kismet, one of those moments when the person she really needed stepped into her life. Here they were talking like old friends, never mind the gap in their ages, or the different paths they’d taken to reach this point in life.

“Why, Maggie, I do believe you just want to look at the young dudes.”

“I may be old, but I can still appreciate the view of a nice firm rump.”

Clara giggled. “You’re not old.”

“That’s right. I’ll always be young at heart.”

A moment of silence passed between them. Clara’s gaze strayed to the open door. She kept sending out a silent prayer for a new client to come waltzing through the door. When she moved to the quaint town she did her research, knowing how foolish it would be to open shop in a small town where there was already a decent, reliable, well-loved vet. She quickly learned about Doc Lawrence and that he preferred working with ranch animals, livestock, but tended the smaller critters as well, mostly out of necessity. Lately, however, she had been hearing grumbling from her handful of clients that Doc Lawrence had lost some of his charm. To Clara it sounded like he was turning into a bitter man in his old age.

Which was one of the reasons she kept hoping for her clientele to increase.

“I think I’ll go see about a bit of paperwork, make sure things are in order.”

“Don’t worry none, dear, word has a way of getting around in small places like Sugarbush,” Miss Maggie assured her. “I’ve already spoken highly of you and how you handled Fizzy.” Fizzy, it turned out, was her tabby cat, a sweet thing with half an ear missing. “Just gotta give the locals a chance to come ‘round. Then you’ll be one of us.”

Clara arched an eyebrow. “You make it sound like a cult.”

“Oh, honey, haven’t you heard? We are, we win you over with good manners and our country charm.”

Clara started for the back and her office. “And here I always thought it was the cowboys.”

“They’ll certainly rope you in, especially the hunky one walking this way.”

And that was the first time Clara crossed paths with the devilishly handsome Asher Barlow. He was crossing the wee gravel lot, The Ark having been built in an old converted farm building, with a black labrador cradled in his arms. It was hard to make out the man behind the dog, but he sported Dusty jeans, a red T-shirt that showed off his muscles, and a black Stetson jammed down on his head. Just the sight of him was enough to cause Clara’s heart to flutter. It was like he walked in slow motion off the cover of a romance novel. And then her brain reminded her about the bow she took upon packing up the last of her belongings.

Love, forget it, there was no place for it in her life.

Not when she was running from a broken, bruised, and battered heart.

Still…

Clara licked her lips, stepping up to the counter to greet her newest client. He swept through the door, a man with purpose, and nodded his head at the reception counter. ”Why, hello Miss Maggie.”

“Asher, always a pleasure. What’s with your sweet old lady? I hope it isn’t anything too terrible.”

“That makes two us,” he remarked, the timber of his voice sending a shiver down Clara’s spine.

The lab was wagging her otter-like tail somewhat enthusiastically, making it hard to keep hold of her. He set her on the floor, dog tags jingling, as Miss Maggie stepped around the counter to give her a loving scratch behind the ears. Clara saw the problem instantly in the way the pooch limped, though the injury didn’t slow her down; as soon as she was done with Miss Maggie she hustled over to Clara, sitting at her feet and leaning into her.

Clara laughed, parting the dog on the head. ”Well, aren’t you the friendly one.”

“Sass loves people,” the drool-worthy cowboy stated, pushing back the brim of his hat and providing Clara with the first decent look at him. From what she could tell he sported a mop of dark brown hair touched by the summer sun and eyes that made her feel like she was the only woman in the room when they settled on her. His jawline was covered in stubble, providing him with a perfect rugged appearance, just the way she always imagined her men of the West. He stepped over to her, offering his hand. “Asher Barlow, and this hyper little girl is Sarsaparilla.”

“Clara Dickens.” His palm was warm against hers.

“I’ve heard some mighty fine things about you, ma’am,” he said, removing his hat completely. Clara felt her heart skip a beat. The man looked ready for a photo shoot to sell jeans. “I sure hope you can help out Sass.”

“I’ll do my best. Why don’t we go into one of the exam rooms and you can tell me what happened?”

“Sounds good.”

Somehow, he managed to wrangle the energetic dog and fell into step behind her. Once in the small room Asher placed Sass on the metal exam table. Much to her surprise Sass remained, sitting, the perfect picture of obedience. The advanced gray on her muzzle suggested she was getting on in years so it pleased Clara to see her so joyous.

“May I ask how old Sass is and is she up-to-date on her shots?” From a cabinet she retrieved a clipboard with paperwork attached. It would be the start of a new file, one she hoped might bring her more business, especially if it meant seeing Asher more. Something told her Sass wasn’t the only pet in his life. ”And what brings you two by today?”

The way he scratched under Sass’s chin, the love evident in his eyes, made Clara smile. “The ole gal is pushing eleven, though she’s two by her standards. And yep, she’s good on her shots. I’m guessing you saw her limp?”

Clara nodded, jotting down a couple of notes.

“Well, I noticed it about lunch time when I rode down to the creek for a little break. I don’t know if she slipped in the mud along the banks or maybe got bit or stepped on something…” He trailed off.

“Let’s have a look.”

Quiet reigned over the room while Clara checked Sass. With no open wounds, no resistance from the pooch when she flexed the lump, and nothing stuck in the paw, Clara was left to announce the only likely cause. Done with the exam she offered Sass a small treat from her pocket, a bubble of freeze dried beef.

“I’m officially diagnosing this as a soft tissue injury. You know how when you roll your ankle?” Asher nodded. “It’s like that. Restrict her movement for a day or two and she’ll be good as new. If you’d like, I can also prescribe a mild painkiller.”

“Do you think she’ll need it?”

“I could write it up just in case you decide you’d like to have it? I’m fact, I can give you a small bottle with six or seven pills.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Clara assured. She reached for the door. “How about you and the patient go wait out front and I’ll bring them around?”

Asher gathered up his dog and carried her out of the room, giving Clara a wonderful view of his backside. She found it quite pleasing to watch him walk away, especially with the fit of his jeans. With a shake of her head as well as a silent reminder that she’d given up on love, Clara retreated to the back of the clinic and the locked space where she stored the medications. When Miss Maggie breezed in Clara jumped, realizing she’d been standing before the bottles, gaze unfocused, as her mind wandered to…other places.

“So?”

“So what?” Clara found the pills she wanted and placed them in an orange bottle. A few quick taps of the keyboard made the printer spring to life, printing the needed label.

“I saw the way you looked at him.”

“Much like you, I can enjoy a handsome, pleasing to the eye guy.” She slapped the label on the bottle and handed it to Miss Maggie. “However, I’m fine single. And I’m plenty busy enough getting this place running and settling in…” Never mind she was completely unpacked and had called Sugarbush Creek home for more than a handful of months. ”Love can wait.”

For a moment it looked like Miss Maggie might leave, but before she did she made sure to say, “Love doesn’t wait for us to be ready. It does things on its own terms. You and Asher will make a cute couple.”

“I’m sure,” responded Clara, for lack of anything better to say.

She wandered back to her office, closing the door before sinking into the desk chair. Miss Maggie’s choice of words bounced through her mind, refusing to be silenced so easily. You and Asher will make a cute couple. Wasn’t she jumping the gun? They’d only just met and what made Miss Maggie think she was even interested or that he was, for that matter? Though she freely admitted Mr. Barlow was a strikingly handsome man, Clara wasn’t in the market for love. Miss Maggie was way off the mark.