Skin Heat Read Free Page A

slip away from. Maybe he’d simply been locked up for his own good because he was nuts. Just like his mother.
     
    Blood stained Geneva Harper’s gloved hands. That wasn’t unusual. She’d just finished operating and her patient looked like he’d be fine. Since he was a big fellow, he was already shaking off the anesthetic. Julie, her assistant, rubbed his head, and his tail gave a weak, corresponding thump. Duffy, a black Labrador, was still groggy, but soon he’d need a cone to keep him from worrying his incision site.
    “Dogs eat the strangest things,” she said, not for the first time.
    Julie nodded her agreement. “But at least you saved him.”
    That was her job, after all, and she was good at it. Leaving Julie to clean up, she went to wash her hands and then she checked her schedule; the day looked pretty full. In ten minutes, she had a poodle coming in for routine vaccinations, but Kady didn’t like needles. She’d need the muzzle.
    Most places had a couple of vet techs, a receptionist and office manager, maybe even a couple more doctors in the rotation, but Paws & Claws ran on a skeleton crew, which meant it was pretty much herself and Julie, five days a week. And she stayed on call for weekend emergencies, too. It was exhausting, but this was what she’d always wanted, and she didn’t regret any of her choices. There had been problems, of course, but she didn’t want to think about her string of bad luck today.
    She did regret that she couldn’t seem to keep an attendant on staff: someone to clean the cages and kennels, wash the pets, take the dogs out for walks, and handle general maintenance, like replacing lightbulbs and painting lines in the parking lot. But two men had quit in the last three months alone. It wasn’t glamorous work, admittedly—it was tough and menial, but if you liked animals, it could be rewarding.
    And it wasn’t like Harper Creek was overflowing with jobs. Her dad had been steadily laying people off at the mill for the last year. As a result, Neva expected an influx of applications from men who used to work maintenance there, but so far it hadn’t happened. Puzzling and upsetting, but she didn’t have time to reflect on why things weren’t working out like she’d thought.
    Mrs. Jones was here; she could tell by the yapping in the foyer. She came out of her office, tucked just around the corner from the waiting room. Julie’s desk sat in the waiting area, so she handled the hellos, if she wasn’t working on a pet; her friend expressed anal glands, cleaned ears, and clipped nails on her own. But before she started any such services, Julie pulled all the medical histories and put them in order in the file holder outside the exam room. Neva snagged the first one.
    File in hand, she smiled as she waved Mrs. Jones back. “How are you and Kady doing today?”
    The other woman smiled. “Well, I’m old. Kady’s lively as ever.”
    “You’ll outlive us all.” She led the way back to the exam room.
    If only dealing with a cantankerous, spoiled pet comprised the worst of her worries. She made small talk while she fastened the muzzle and then prepared the shots. If Julie wasn’t cleaning up from surgery, she’d have already done this. But there was no point in wishing for more help. Some nights she cleaned the place before going home, too—and her mother never tired of telling her it was beneath her.
    Harpers don’t work like you do, Lillian would say, clad in one of her endless pastel suits. Neva had never been clear if she meant with animals or just the whole idea of employment. It didn’t matter; she had long ago resigned herself to the fact she’d never be the daughter her mother wanted. Nor could she make up for the son they’d lost.
    It hadn’t always been that way, of course. She remembered when Lillian was less concerned about appearances, when she laughed more freely. But Neva had been a lot younger then, and Luke’s loss had only frozen her mother more.