Rain Shadow (18 page)

Taylor ignored him. Instead she focused on the black form writhing on the pavement. Minnie reminded Taylor of a Daddy Longlegs spider she tried to kill once. Instead of ending the spider’s life, she’d simply mangled one of its legs with a swat of the rolled up newspaper. The spider had continued to flee, big body bobbing, its thin graceful leg twisted the wrong direction. Like the spider, one of Minnie’s twig-like legs was bent at an unnatural angle. Blood seeped into a puddle from a hole in the skin where pale broken bone was visible.

“Oh God, oh God … I can’t look.” Her mother alternated between reaching for Minnie and looking away as she wrung her hands. Her face had turned white, the blue veins in her neck bulging.

“I swear I didn’t see your dog. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Just go, okay?”

The motorist looked from Taylor to her mother to the broken dog at their feet. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Oh, God … ”

“Jus
t
g
o
. I mean it.”
Taylor gestured toward the car then ignored the motorist completely
as she knelt beside Minnie. “Shhh,” she cooed to the dog, “you’ll be okay.”

The high pitched wailing continued as Minnie repeatedly tried to rise on the shattered limb.

“Let me.” Voice trembling, her mother reached a shaky hand toward
the dog. “She’s my baby.”

Abruptly the wailing ended and Minnie laid her head back on the pavement. Her eyes glazed over and an ominous sound rolled from the depths of her small chest. “
Grrrrrr.” Buzzing at first like a swarm of bees, the sound turned to a growl that parted Minnie’s black lips showing her pearly white teeth.

Her mother snatched her arm back as if bitten by a snake. “My god, what’s happened to you Minnie?” Wringing her hands again, tears began to spill from her eyes. “She’
s
neve
r
growled at me before.”

“Mom, she’s in pain.” Taylor put her arm around her mother’s shoulders, suddenly sure of what to do next. “Go back to the house. I’m going to call a friend. He’s a vet; he’ll know what to do.”

Her mother appeared dazed and confused as she walked toward the cottage. As Taylor watched she thought of the many times she’d wished to see the woman emotional or out of control even once. Now that the moment had come it cut her to the heart. Quickly she punched some numbers on her cell phone.

“Hi, I need to speak with Dr. Wilson. It’s an emergency.”



Chapter 23

J

acob
Wilson carefully unbuckled the muzzle from the back of Minnie’s
sleeping head. With what seemed like affection, he gently slid the nylon apparatus from the dog’s slender nose. “I don’t think she’ll be biting anyone now.”

As Taylor watched it occurred to her that, once again, the veterinarian was patching up a creature that was vitally important in her life.

“She won’t try to bite my mother while she’s recovering, will she?”

“Highly unlikely. When an animal goes into shock they can do all sorts of things that are contrary to their normal personality.”

“My mom was just devastated.”

The vet said nothing. He was busy connecting an IV and assembling what he needed to repair the broken limb.

“So she’ll be alright?” Taylor paced the small room, considering the tools of a veterinarian’s trade as she chewed her nails down to the nubs.
She felt certain Dr. Wilson had violated the rules of the clinic by al
lowing her to follow him back to surgery and observe procedure. Her fear of letting Minnie out of sight, not to mention tenuous grasp on self-control, had no doubt made him more flexible than usual.

“My mom would just die without this dog; she’s seriously like the
most important thing in her life. If only I hadn’t taught her to fetch … ”

Again Taylor had hurt something dear to her. This time it include
d
someon
e
.
Her mother would probably never trust her again. Taylor glanced at Minnie lying motionless on the table. The little dog wouldn’t be playing with balls anymore. A tear oozed from the corner of her eye and she wiped it away.

“The break is pretty bad,” the vet spoke with his back to her, “but I should be able to patch her up enough so she can walk again. She may always have a limp. Perhaps a reminder she’s not a Labrador?”

Dr. Wilson looked at Taylor then, a warm smile playing at the corners of his mouth. When he saw her face he frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a bad joke. Just trying to get you to smile. I’ll take good care of this dog, okay?”

Taylor watched him brush his fingers over Minnie’s side, the masculine hand a study in contrast next to the petite creature on the table.

“It’s just like with Rain and the frozen water … I wasn’t paying attention.”
Taylor looked away.

“Bad things happen, Taylor. Sometimes it’s nobody’s fault. Now, you must let me work. I’ll call you when I’m done. Why don’t you let me deliver Miss Minnie after she’s recovered from surgery tomorrow? Then I can see my favorite girl.”

Though she knew he was talking about Rain, Taylor felt her face flush. Fortunately the veterinarian was leaning over Minnie, already utterly consumed with the task at hand.

“Okay. I’ll tell my Mom she can see Minnie tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Taylor looked once more at the back of the veterinarian and let herself out of the surgical room.

After calling her mother, Taylor switched on the computer. She punched in a web address and nursed a third beer while waiting for the images to load. A moment later, Minnie’s alert laughing face appeared on the screen. She sat upright on her mother’s lap outside the real estate office. The blog title read
:
Minnie Musings: Thoughts on the Market and Man’s Best Friend.

Taylor had never bothered logging on and reading her mother’s silly attempt at social networking. It didn’t seem so ridiculous when she looked at the number of followers—85—and the many comments that appeared
under posts. She scrolled to the last entry, posted from Mexico four days before her mother had returned from the cruise. The title wa
s
Anniversarie
s
.

Aloha friends. Oops, wrong vacation! Buenos
Noches. A beautiful evening here in Mexico and though I’m without Minnie and supposed to be taking a break from real estate, I thought I’d say a few words about anniversaries. Anniversaries are important to celebrate whether it’s a wedding or the purchase of your first home or condo. Make a special meal or, better, commemorate the purchase of your first dwelling by doing a renovation or improvement. Doesn’t have to be big. As my sweet Minnie would tell you, special things come in small packages. Install a new fixture on the sink or invest in a needed appliance. Of course, if you have the funds, the renovation of a bathroom or kitchen really builds your home’s value. On a personal note, today is the anniversary of my father’s death. I’m lonely without Minnie’s company, but enjoyed a margarita and remembered Dad tonight—may he rest in peace. I’ll be back in the Pacific Northwest soon, land of beautiful real estate and a certain perky Miniature Pincher. Call, comment, or come by. I’d love to talk shop, or “dog” with you.

Grandpa’s death. She’s forgotten it of course. The passing of an angry
alcoholic she barely remembered wasn’t something to highlight in the day planner. Her mother’s post reminded her that regardless of the messy, tequila-colored details, Grandpa had been a father to a little girl once. A little girl that grew up to be a woman who still thought of him. The conversational tone and subtle vulnerability of the post took Taylor by surprise. Her mother had a warm heart beating under the
perpetually cool exterior. Ironic that it seemed most comfortable appearing
to acquaintances and complete strangers.



Chapter 24

T

aylor paced the length of her small living room and waited. She watched the daylight begin to fade outside. In the cemetery, a headstone extended its shadow—the looming shape of a cross—nearly to the road. Even though weathermen said it was the warmest February on record the days were short and the night would still be bone chilling. Prematurely warm days with temps in the 60s had lured lilacs to begin budding and behind her Rowan’s tulip beds were a sea of thick green stalks.

Taylor alternated between watching the road and watching her landlady—in bright red boots and yellow woolen cap—erect a “nightgown” of plastic sheeting over raised beds. She huddled over the plants like a hen with a brood of chicks. Taylor watched her lips move and knew she was talking to the plants and fussing about temperatures plunging again and killing off the new growth. Outside of Dr. Wilson, the woman was perhaps the most nurturing person Taylor had ever met. She seemed to have missed that gene altogether.

At the sound of tires crunching gravel, Taylor bolted to the door. She greeted the veterinarian at his truck and chewed at a thumb nail.

“How is she?”

Jacob didn’t answer. Instead he opened the narrow door of the extended cab and withdrew a small pet crate. Inside Taylor saw Minnie lying on her side, a splint on her broken limb. 

“My mother is completely freaking out. She’s called me twice today and is, in fact, on her way up from Edmonds now.”

“Let’s take Minnie inside. She’s been sleeping a lot today, but she’s about ready to wake up I think.”

Jacob’s long legs took the two porch steps in one stride. He pushed open the door and walked in the house with Taylor following. He
placed the crate on the futon and sat down beside it. Taylor knelt on the floor and peeked inside. Minnie’s glossy brown eyes looked out at her as a short stump of a tail wagged back and forth ever so slightly.

“
Ooooh.” Tears sprang to Taylor’s eyes as she considered both the splint on the dog’s leg and the lively expression creeping back to her face. Animals did not feel sorry for themselves. It was one of the great mysteries of life that no matter what happened they were always ready to move on, forget and forgive whatever caused them pain.

“I’m afraid to touch her.”

Taylor looked at Jacob. Without a word he opened the crate and with impossible gentleness lifted the dog out and set her on the futon. Minnie tried to move but immediately collapsed on her side again. Taylor stroked the gleaming black coat as the dog licked her fingers.

“When she recovers a bit more she’ll figure out how to sit up and then hobble around.”

“Really?” Taylor brushed the broken limb with a finger.

“Really. You’ll be amazed. I’m leaving instructions with you for her care and also medication. I’ll need to see Minnie again of course and remove the pins, but your mother can take her home. Now it’s a matter of the body healing itself.”

Taylor watched Jacob remove a pen from his coverall pocket and begin writing on a pad of paper. Above the pocket was stitched
,
Jacob Wilson, DV
M
.

“Did you always want to be a veterinarian?”

“Hmmm.” Jacob continued writing.

“Why?”

Jacob scratched a few more words, then the digits of a phone number. Replacing the pen in his pocket he finally gave her his attention.

“I love animals.” He ran calloused fingers through his hair and sighed as if there were more to the story. “That’s the short answer.”

“Did your parents want you to be a vet?” Taylor wanted him to stay, wanted to hear the long answer, so she kept shooting questions like a four-year-old stuck o
n
wh
y
.

“Not exactly
.
Veterinaria
n
was about as bad a
s
libraria
n
in my dad’s opinion. Not manly.” Jacob flexed his right arm at the word ‘manly.’ Taylor watched the bicep bulge under his shirt.

“Fixing up toy dogs for ladies didn’t match his idea of the masculine life.”

Jacob chuckled and stroked Minnie’s side while he talked. There was no bitterness in the words, only a hint of old—and very manly—emotion that had been shrink-wrapped and packed safely away.

“You became a vet anyway.” Taylor wasn’t sure what else to say. Jacob acted like he was ready to leave, the sooner the better. “And me, Rain, and Minnie are glad you did.”

Instead of rising from the futon, Jacob leaned back and looked at the ceiling. He took a deep breath. “I knew I wanted to be a vet when I was ten. About the time Dad killed our German Shepherd, Duchess.”

Taylor watched Jacob pull at his chin, scratching the stubble of an emerging goatee as he rifled through old memories.