Nova (10 page)

I took a moment to discern any hidden meaning to it. My first instinct was that he wanted me to say it was okay for him to have my number, and even though I wanted to say that, I was also mad at myself for still feeling that way.

Instead I grabbed a napkin and wrote my number on it. But as I slid it across to him, my senses returned and I yanked it back just as fast. “Oh, gosh! I don’t want you to hand him that.” I could just picture Austin handing Dr. Stevens a phone number on a white napkin.

“He wouldn’t even care,” Austin chuckled.

“Well I do, I guess. It’s not very professional.”

I was glad that I actually caught myself before I handed it over. What was even more embarrassing was that I wasn’t even thinking about Dr. Stevens when I was writing my phone number down. I’d been in some weird trance because I actually wanted
Austin
to have my number
and I just handed it over to him
.

I was looking through my purse to find something better to write it on, but I was coming up empty. Finally Austin said, “Just tell me your number, Nova.” He had his phone out and was going to punch it in. “I’ll make you a nice business card to put it on before I actually give it to him,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes but just told him the number.

“I’ll
delete it as soon as your stationary is complete, too.”

“Lemme see one of
your
business cards,” I countered.

He looked a bit surprised but shrugged a shoulder as he shuffled through his wallet. “Job number one,” he said, setting one on the table, “…uh,
I don’t have ‘my own’
for the ranch so…
job number three,” he concluded, setting another one down.

I looked them both over but I didn’t
pick them up or anything. I was waiting for him to take them back and put them in his wallet I guess, but he just smiled and took a drink as the waitress arrived to take our order. When she left
,
it was back to the awkwardness of the two business cards sitting between us on the table. The ball was in my court, I knew it, and he was waiting for my choice. I could either take the two cards to show that I wanted his number, or I could leave them there to inform him that I did not. I hate making decisions, remember?

Those two cards remained on the table during our entire lunch. Even though we talked about quite an array of things—the schools we went to, and different things about our jobs—there was not a single
word about the cards.

T
he most impressive thing I learned abo
ut Austin was that he had his MB
A. He was only twenty-three and had earned his masters in business a year prior. I was pretty impressed, and I even told him so. It didn’t really seem like
a big deal
to him though, like it was just
a
fundamental achievement. I even asked him why he took it so lightly.

“Lightly? Nah, I worked hard for that certificate.”

“How in the world did you get it already? In four years?”

“No, I went through six years of college. I just completed two of it while I was still in high school.”

“Really? Wow, I wish I could have done that. I guess I’ve heard of high schools that were allowed to do that, but mine didn’t. You’re a brainiac, aren’t you?” I teased.

He slightly smiled. “I do okay with the right motivation.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what does that mean?”

“My parents pretty much held everything over my head,” he chuckled. “Whether or not I got to do anything was based on my grades. But high school was easy for me so it wasn’t a big deal. Getting my masters was a little tougher
, but by then it was something that I
wanted
to do
.”

“Where’d you end up interning for that?”

“The Speedway.”

“Oh, I see. Well that’s cool that you were able to get on with them permanently.”

He shrugged as the waitress brought our check.
Before I could even pay for my share, Austin was already handing her a fifty. I tossed some money his way and he practically laughed at me. He picked up the cash
,
and the two business cards, and
set
them in front of me.

“Save it for a rainy day.”

I wasn’t sure which he was referring to—the money or the cards—but I just shrugged and stuffed them in my purse.

“Well thank you for lunch,” I told him.

“Anytime. And if you’d rather not eat at the diner next time either, just let me know.
I’ll take you anywhere you want.
”

“Next time, huh?”

“If I’m so lucky to have a next time,” he shrugged
with a smile
.

We got up to leave and I couldn’t help but glance at the table when he left a tip in the middle of it. It was a ten-dollar bill, and I almost made a comment about how poorly the waitress had served us, but I decided to leave it alone. He walked me to my car after
that,
said he’d see me up in Bakersfield, and left with a wave.

I sat there for a moment, feeling a little unsettled for some reason. I guess it was because my time with him was over, and I was already wishing I’d decided to go up with him for the weekend. But I told myself my choice was good. I didn’t even know
much
about Austin, so why would I put myself in his car to be left at his mercy?

I glanced at the road when I heard an engine rev by.
T
he car
that roared up
to the stop sign was a brand-new Camaro
, and after it barely stopped, it took off on a right turn to race to the freeway
.
For some reason that made me think of Bakersfield and Dr. Stevens, and I couldn’t remember if
I was supposed to make the call
or Dr. Stevens was going to. I guess I should have asked Aus
tin a few more questions, but
it was too late now since I couldn’t see where he was parked. I decided I would wait until seven o’clock for a call, and then I would take the initiative mysel
f.

Dr. Stevens did call me
and it was way sooner than I expected. It couldn’t have been
more than
an hour later, and I’d just lain across my bed to do some homework. We talked for almost twenty minutes, and I answered all of his qu
estions quickly and efficiently.
We discussed several options for how I could get some hours in, and he even gave me some pointers about my letters of recommendation when it came time to apply for veterinary schools.
Austin was right.
I liked Dr. Stevens and I hadn’t even met him yet. With all of his advice and suggestions, I really felt like he wanted me to succeed.

Then we began discussing the equestrian aspect of his career. I admitted that I hadn’t planned on heading that direction—I was mainly shooting for small companion pets—but he assured me it didn’t even matter. Apparently there were other animals
on the ranch that he doctored—cats and dogs—a
nd he claimed there was plenty of work for the both of us.
He also added that
schools like to see that you’ve had a variety of training, not just
in
one field.

I was so excited that night that I couldn’t even sleep. I laid awake for several hours, just thinking about spending time on a horse ranch and getting paid to intern for an equine vet. I even
became
excited for
the equestrian
aspect of it.

I arrived in Bakersfield just before nine the next morning. I left Santa Clarita early, just in case I had trouble finding the ranch. But
Harmony Acres
was very easy to find, just as Dr. Stevens had said. I passed acres of
white-
fenced fields
as I drove up the drive.
The guesthouse was on my left and the
arena and stables were
right next to it. I parked
in front of
a wood
en
sign
on the arena
that read
“office.”

As I got out of the car, I looked ahead to where the road continued to the
main
house and I had to pause. It was beautiful, a two-story Craftsman-style, and the driveway made a
gigantic loop in front of it with
professional
landscaping
all around it.

A few people were milling about. A girl was l
eading a horse into the stables
and two men were loading another one into a horse trailer. There were at least
fifteen
horses that I could count in the fields
across the driveway
, and I was sure there were even more than that
behind the stables
.

“Can I help you with something?” a young woman asked as she came out of the arena.
She looked to be my age or maybe younger, with medium-length brown hair that was tied into a ponytail, and dusty boots that barely stuck out from her faded jeans.

“Oh, uh, no I don’t think so. I’m here to meet with Dr. Stevens and he said to just find him in the office.”
I pointed to the sign in front of me for some reason
; maybe I was waiting
for her permission.

“Yep, he’s in there,” she smiled. “Are you Nova?”

I was a little surprised that she knew about me but I said, “Yes, I am.”

“Hi, I’m Sam. Austin’s sister,” she added with a smile.

I guess I could see the resemblance after she said it.
And when she stepped closer to me to politely shake my hand, I could tell they had the same eye color. It unnerved me because I realized how much I wanted to see him, and the reminder caught me off-guard.
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand.

“Come on, I’ll walk you inside,” she
said
, motioning
for
me to
follow her.

We walked through an open breezeway and I could see horses being worked in the
enormous
arena ahead of us.

“Well, that’s the main office,” she said, pointing to our left. “And
Jack’s
office is right here,” she added, turning to the right. His name was on the door, and she pushed right through it. “He
y, Jack
?” she called.

A man immediately produced himself from the back room and he stopped when he saw us, seeming a bit surprised. Then he looked at the clock and said, “Oh, where did the time go?” He chuckled and stepped forward with his hand extended. “Hello, you must be Nova? I’m Jack Stevens.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” I replied.
He looked to be in his mid-
thirties.
He had sandy colored hair and blue eyes, and his smile was friendly.

“Well I’ll let you two get to work,” Sam said. “Just come find me later and we can go riding together,” she smiled at me.

After she left I asked Dr. Stevens, “Is that a requirement?”

“Riding?” he chuckled. “You don’t know how to ride a horse?”

I was instantly embarrassed but shook my head no.

“Well no worries,” he said, seeming to wave it off. “It’s not going to hurt your chances to intern,” he added with a wink. “Come here, let me show you something.”

He motioned me to follow him to the back room and I smiled at what I saw. In the corner was a Golden Retriever giving birth to puppies.

“This is Goldie,” he told me. “I know, totally unoriginal for a name, but what can I say.”

“Is she your dog?”

“No, she belongs to
Marlo
. Mrs. Gaines,” he clarified. “We all prefer to be called by first names
here
,
by the way,
so please call me Jack. But one of the camp kids named the dog when she was a puppy, so
Marlo
just went wi
th it. Goldie is two years old;
this is her first litter, and it’ll also be her last. We’ll
fix that when the time is right
.
”

We spent a few minutes discussing the birthing, and then we left Goldie alone to talk over my options. I was already in complete euphoria after only being on the ranch for a few minutes. Austin’s sister was nice, and so was Dr. Stevens—uh, Jack. So far things were going pretty well.

I spent almost two hours in Jack’s office. He not only answered every question that I had, but he also answered questions that I didn’t even know I wanted to ask. We discussed my schooling again, and he told me about his own college experiences.

By the time Goldie had her fourth pup it was decided that I would come up to Bakersfield just for the weekends until I was done with
my current semester
.
And since there was only one class that I could take during the summer, and it happened to be online,
Jack suggested that I move to the ranch
to work full time
come summertime
until fall semester began
.