The Doctor Next Door

“If you give me grief about running home to Northbridge with my tail between my legs, I swear I’ll punch you.”

A grin stretched across Boone’s face. “Nah, home is where we’re supposed to go when life hits you hard. It’s good you’re here.”

Not wanting him to know how much impact something so simple could have on her when it came from him, Faith said, “I’d better go.”

“It’ll be OK, you know,” he said.

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Trust me,” he said. “Yeah, I know. Why should you trust anything I say when I started out making things harder on you, right? When I acted as if you didn’t have any business coming back here? Well, trust me, anyway. I’d never lead you astray.”

“Too bad,” she joked before she even knew she was going to say anything.

His grin let her know he’d liked it. “Well, maybe not never.”

For another moment his too-beautiful-to-belong- to-a-man blue eyes delved into hers and then, without warning, he tipped his head to one side and kissed her.

VICTORIA PADE

is a native of Colorado, where she continues to live and work. Her passion – besides writing – is chocolate, which she indulges in frequently and in every form. She loves romance novels and romantic movies – the more lighthearted, the better – but she likes a good, juicy mystery now and then, too.

The Doctor

Next Door

Victoria Pade

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Chapter One

“What do you have all over your face, Charlie? Did you get into something out there?”

Faith Perry didn’t expect an answer from her schnauzer as she let her dog in from the backyard, but the silver-gray purebred responded with a whimper anyway.

“Come here, let me see,” Faith urged, bending over to take a look.

But what was soaking the animal’s beard and had dribbled onto Charlie’s chest and front legs wasn’t mud or muck from a yard damp from an early April rain. It was blood.

“Oh! Charlie! Did you kill something?”

Charlie whimpered again and looked at Faith with big, beseeching black eyes that finally caused her to register that the mischievous dog might be hurt.

Faith picked up the fifteen-pound pooch she’d owned for about a year, carried her through the kitchen into the living room and sat down with Charlie in her lap.

On closer inspection, Faith could see that the blood was coming from inside Charlie’s mouth.

With some worry that she was going to find a dead bird or part of a squirrel inside, Faith grimaced and pried her pet’s jaws apart.

There was more blood in Charlie’s mouth but there wasn’t anything else. Except for a very broken tooth.

“What did you do?” Faith lamented sympathetically.

It was four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon in her small hometown of Northbridge, Montana. Faith had been in town less than twenty-four hours and she had no idea if the local veterinarian—who had been ancient when she’d left Northbridge eleven years ago—was still in practice. Or if there was another vet or if Northbridge might have joined the twenty-first century and gained an animal hospital.

She did know that she had to get her dog to someone, though. Right away.

“You poor baby,” she muttered to Charlie, taking her back into the kitchen.

She set the animal gingerly on the tile floor, gave her a loving stroke and said, “Just sit and let me figure this out.”

To Faith’s surprise, Charlie minded her.

“Oh, you must be in bad shape,” Faith said of her pet’s unusual compliance.

Until the day before, the house had not been Faith’s primary residence. It had only been a place for her and her former husband to stay when they were in town. Because of that, it wasn’t well-equipped with things like a current telephone directory. Hoping that she had even an outdated one, she hurried to the laundry room off the kitchen.

“Keep your fingers crossed,” she said to the companion who had no fingers to cross.

Still, she counted herself lucky to find the mail-order-catalog-sized phone book in a cupboard and she quickly returned to the kitchen to search the two-year-old listings.

“No, no more old Doc Chapman,” she said when she couldn’t find the old veterinarian’s name listed. “Boone Pratt—he’s the vet now,” she told Charlie. “I knew that. My sister married his brother—and an emergency call about an animal was the reason he wasn’t at the wedding. I should have remembered.”

But in the time since Faith had left Northbridge she hadn’t put much effort into keeping up with anyone in the small town other than her family. And even when the information had been shared with her recently, she hadn’t retained a lot of it. Her life had been too much of a mess lately for her to have grasped much beyond her own problems and immediate family matters.

Her cell phone was on the counter and she used it to dial the number for the veterinarian’s office. Maybe someone was on duty this weekend.

No such luck. On the second ring the other end of the line was answered by a recorded female voice.

Office hours were given before an in-case-of-emergency number.

Cursing her own stupidity for not being prepared with pen and paper, Faith repeated the number out loud, over and over again as she ended the call and dialed it.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she said impatiently to each unanswered ring. “You’re the only vet in town, what am I going to do if you don’t pick up—”

“Yo.”

Yo?

“Is this Boone Pratt?” Faith asked.

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

Faith reminded herself that she was in Northbridge. Things were much more casual here.

“This is Faith Perry—”

“Faith,” he repeated, obviously needing no further explanation. Of course, it was Northbridge. They had grown up together, been in the same grade all through school. And her cousin Jared was marrying his sister, Mara, next Sunday. It wasn’t as if she were a complete stranger even though, to Faith’s knowledge, she hadn’t set eyes on the man since high school graduation.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she continued, “but I just got to town, my dog seems to have broken a tooth and I guess you’re the vet.”

“No guessing about it. I am. The only one in town.”

He’d gone from the laid-back, friendly yo to a much more curt tone of voice. But then they’d never been friendly, so maybe this was his version of professionalism.

“How bad’s the tooth?” he demanded.

“Bad enough for me to see that it’s broken and for there to be blood all over.”

“I’ll have to meet you at my office. Do you know where that is?”

Because the directory was still open she was able to read out the address that put him just off of Main Street and only a few blocks from Faith’s house.

“That’s it,” the vet cut her off before she got the complete address out. “I’m in the middle of something at my place outside of town so it’ll take me about half an hour to get things under control here and drive in. I’ll see you there.”

Click.

That was it, he’d hung up.

“Well, okay…” Faith muttered to herself, taken aback by the man’s abruptness.

But at that moment manners—or the lack of them—was less a concern than getting Charlie taken care of.

Faith arrived at Boone Pratt’s office exactly half an hour after calling him. But when she carried Charlie from the car to the door she found it locked. Peering through a plate-glass window, she saw no sign that anyone was inside, so she sat on the wooden bench below the office window to wait with Charlie in her lap.

Fearing she might hurt the dog, Faith had only gingerly washed the blood off of her pet’s fur. Charlie wasn’t as much of a mess as she’d been when she’d come in from outside but she wasn’t altogether clean, either. Faith was embarrassed to bring the animal in with matted hair, but putting Charlie through a bath had seemed cruel.

Faith had changed her own clothes, though. In the circles she had become accustomed to in the last eleven years it would have been unthinkable to be seen in the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d been wearing to unpack her belongings. Even an emergency trip to the vet in Northbridge had compelled her to slip into an ankle-length skirt and a silk blouse.

Her bittersweet-chocolate-colored hair had been taken from its ponytail, too, and, rather than leaving it to fall to her shoulders, she’d swept it back into an impromptu French twist.

Not even on a day at home did she go without makeup, but she had double-checked to be sure there were no mascara smudges beneath her violet-blue eyes. That her thin, straight nose was powdered. That the high cheekbones that had made it seem as if she’d fit into the patrician class in Connecticut were dusted with blush. And she’d added an ever-so-light touch of gloss to lips that could have been cosmetically plumped-up but that she’d let remain naturally not-too-full in a quiet rebellion against the tides.

All in all, her former mother-in-law would still have barely considered her presentable for a visit to the facialist or the hairdresser, both of whom would make improvements, but it was the best Faith could do in a hurry.

On the other hand, when the grimy red truck pulled up to the curb to park next to her BMW, it didn’t seem as if anyone who might emerge from it could have any reason to judge.

Probably because she was worried about her dog, that emergence seemed to be in slow-motion and Faith was more aware of details than of the whole that was being unveiled before her as Boone Pratt got out of the truck.

The first thing she noticed were dusty cowboy boots that were obviously unfamiliar with polish or a boot-buffer. They brought with them long legs encased in jeans rubbed nearly white at all the stress points and caked with mud around hems that were partially there, partially ripped into fringe. There was also a denim shirt that was so threadbare it hung almost diaphanously around a lean torso and broad shoulders. The entire ensemble was grimy.

He didn’t look any cleaner from the neck up.

Shockingly handsome, but no cleaner.

And I was worried about Charlie being too dirty to be out in public, Faith thought.

“Boone?” she asked, not intending to sound as put-off as she did.

“Faith?” he countered facetiously.

Had he caught her shock at the way he looked? It wouldn’t help anything if he had.

“Thank you for coming. I’m sorry to drag you out on a Sunday afternoon,” she said, making sure nothing but gratitude echoed in her voice this time.

“Part of the job,” he said dismissively.

She stood and he gave her the once-over, making her wonder, again, if she had given herself away, prompting him to get even.

Or maybe he just found her clothes somehow inappropriate. As eyes the blue of a clear, cool mountain lake assessed her down a hawkish nose, the sneer on a mouth that was devastatingly sexy left her with no doubt of his thoughts. He didn’t approve of what he saw any more than she had.

Not attempting to conceal his distaste, he walked from the truck to the office with long, confident strides and unlocked the door.

Faith stood aside until she and Charlie were ushered in by a motion that managed to mock her. She was convinced that this man genuinely disliked her. And considering the change in his response on the phone when she’d identified herself, it seemed as if it wasn’t only based on her failure to hide that she’d noticed his lack of cleanliness. But if that was the case, she honestly didn’t understand why. They had only coexisted in this same small town while growing up; it wasn’t as if they’d ever spoken more than ten words to each other. Why did he seem to have so much animosity? But it was there anyway, unmistakably.

Unless it was just that Boone Pratt had a bad disposition, like her grandfather—who had been the town’s pastor and was infamously bad-tempered. But a lifetime of the reverend’s unlikable personality had given her a basis of comparison and Faith felt as if there was something more personal when it came to Boone Pratt’s bad attitude toward her.

“In there,” he ordered, pointing a long index finger in the direction of an examining room off the waiting area they’d just entered.

Faith took Charlie into the other room, setting her pet on the countertop that obviously served as an examining table.

Boone Pratt brought up the rear, going around to the inside of the L-shaped space formed by cupboards and counters. As he came into sight again, he ran his big hands through hair that—without the dust that frosted it—was so dark a brown it was almost black.

He needed a haircut—that was what Faith thought of the unruly mane that grazed his shirt collar and waved away from a ruggedly beautiful face with remarkable bone structure. It was a face the photographer who took her former family’s annual portraits would have adored. Sharply defined cheek-and jawbones would have put her ex-husband’s and her ex-father-in-law’s pie-shaped faces to shame.

After this cursory hair-combing, the vet made a show of washing his hands in the sink that occupied the other section of the counter. As Faith cast a glance down at Charlie, she somehow caught sight of Boone Pratt’s derriere. Disreputable jeans or not, it was one fine rear.

Fine enough to make Faith swallow hard to keep her composure.

After the vet had done a thorough job of washing his hands, he turned and came to stand directly opposite her and Charlie, dwarfing them both from a stature that must have been a full three inches over six feet.

“Who do we have here?” he asked in a more pleasant tone aimed at his patient as he held out one hand for the animal to sniff.

“This is Charlie,” Faith answered.

“Hi, Charlie,” Boone Pratt said soothingly and without so much as a glance at Faith. “Got yourself into trouble, did you, boy?”

“He’s a her. I mean, Charlie is a girl. I know it doesn’t seem like it from the name, but I got her when she was six months old and that was already what she’d been called and since it seemed to suit her because she’s not girlie at all, I just kept it.”

More information than was necessary, especially since the vet had looked for himself after Faith’s initial correction and he hadn’t paid any attention to what she’d said after that.

He stroked Charlie’s head with one of those large hands, a gesture so gentle and calming the dog actually began to nuzzle him for more.

Still, Faith felt obligated to warn him. “She’s been known to bite vets. They have to muzzle her to cut her nails or do anything with her tail end.”

“Guess it’s lucky that isn’t the end we need to work on, isn’t it, girl?” he asked Charlie as if Faith were incidental and he and the dog were sharing an inside joke.

Then, still focused on Charlie, he said, “Are you gonna let me take a look in your mouth?”

His voice was so deep and honeyed with persuasion that Faith almost complied herself. As it was, Charlie—who ordinarily barked and howled and snapped and made each visit to a veterinarian an ordeal—made a liar of Faith and repositioned herself to move nearer to Boone as if he were her owner.

“Let’s see what we have here,” he suggested, easing the animal’s jaws apart much as Faith had earlier and with Charlie’s willing cooperation.

It didn’t take more than one glance for him to add, “Yep, that’s a broken tooth, all right.”

Then he did a survey of the rest of the animal’s mouth before letting loose of Charlie’s jaws. Only then did he acknowledge that Faith was there. He returned to petting Charlie, who had now completely gone over to the vet’s side and was leaning against him as she curled contentedly into the bare—and very muscular—forearms of the man.

“She’s broken away most of her upper right molar—that’s the largest tooth in a dog’s mouth and there isn’t enough of it left for me to salvage it. It’ll have to be extracted.”

“How did she do that?”

“I don’t know. She isn’t talking,” he answered.

“I mean, aren’t dogs supposed to have really tough teeth?” she amended, wishing for some of that niceness he seemed to reserve for Charlie.

“They do have really tough teeth,” Boone Pratt confirmed. “But if they get hold of something tougher, their teeth can break just like a human’s.”

“And then the teeth have to be pulled?”

“Not always. Sometimes they can be saved—the same as with people. But not in this case.”

“Can she do without it?”

“She’ll adapt.”

“What does the extraction involve? I’m not sure I have the stomach for holding her down while you pull her tooth,” Faith confessed.

Boone Pratt frowned at her as if she were out of her mind. “I’ll have to call in my tech. We’ll do a full physical exam to make sure Charlie is otherwise healthy, but I don’t see any indications that she isn’t—”

“She is healthy. I had her in for her shots about a month ago. And she’s too active to be sick.”

Again he seemed to ignore her input and continued. “Then Charlie will be anesthetized and I’ll do the extraction. There’s no way it could be done with you just holding her down.”

“She has to be put out?” That seemed extreme.

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have to. But if you’d prefer a second opinion, you can take her somewhere else. Billings has vets I can recommend.”

“I wasn’t doubting you. I just don’t have any experience with this sort of thing. I’ve never even thought about dog dentistry and people aren’t given general anesthetic to pull a tooth,” Faith defended herself.

Boone Pratt said nothing.

Too bad he wasn’t as adept with people as he was with animals.

“And you’ll do it now?” Faith asked.

She hadn’t meant for her gaze to drop to his soiled clothes again when she’d said that. It had been a reflex in response to thinking that while the office was spotless, Boone Pratt was not. And this time it was clear he’d caught the implication.

“Same old Faith,” he said under his breath.

Faith had no idea what that meant. But she didn’t have any doubt it was insulting.

“Excuse me?”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her, and acted as if he’d never made the remark.

“I was in the middle of saddle-breaking a horse when you called,” he said, clearly begrudging her the explanation. “While my assistant preps Charlie I’ll run home for a shower. By the time I get back I guarantee I’ll be cleaned up. I may even wash my hands again before I get to work. And wear surgical gloves—we do that here in the land of hayseeds, too,” he added sarcastically.

“The land of hayseeds?” she repeated.

“Isn’t that what you called Northbridge? The reason you couldn’t wait to get the hell out? And now here you are, gracing us with your high-and-mighty, nose-in-the-air presence again. Lucky us.”

Faith knew her eyes were wide as she stared at him but she couldn’t help it. High-and-mighty? Nose-in-the-air? That was what he thought of her?

“Did I say that—the land of hayseeds?” she asked.

“You did.”

“When?”

“High school.”

“High school? You’re mad about something I said over a decade ago that I don’t even remember saying? About Northbridge?”

“Mad? I’m not mad,” he said, again as if she were out of her mind. “I couldn’t care less about you or anything you’ve ever said. I was just letting you know that even if this is only Northbridge, things are still done just the way they are in the big city. All conditions and instruments will be sterile, every precaution will be taken to avoid contamination and infection.”

No matter how much he denied it, he sounded mad and Faith wouldn’t let it go. “Did I do something to you that I don’t remember?”

“No, ma’am, you didn’t,” he said as if he were proud that she’d never had the opportunity. “Now, either you want me to do this procedure or you don’t. What’ll it be?”

Faith didn’t have any concerns that he would treat Charlie well—he was already cradling the dog in his arms and Charlie was lounging there trustingly. In the best interest of her pet, Faith decided she should just try to ignore Boone Pratt’s dislike of her.

“I’d appreciate it if you would do the procedure,” she conceded.

He stepped away from the counter. “I’ll take good care of Charlie and have my assistant call you when the extraction is over to let you know how it went.”

He was dismissing her. So apparently he didn’t intend for her to stay in the office during the procedure.

“And then I’ll be able to come get her and take her home?” Faith asked.

“She’ll need some looking after when she wakes up, so I’d better keep her with me. At least overnight,” Boone Pratt decreed.

“I can look after her,” Faith said. “I do take care of her the rest of the time.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you get your hands dirty,” he said cuttingly. Then, with the arch of one eyebrow, he said, “It’s up to you if you want to deal with post-op.”

Faith honestly wasn’t afraid of whatever post-op entailed. But she also wanted Charlie to have the best care possible and since, afraid or not, she was completely inexperienced at caring for an animal after surgery, it was only logical to assume that the vet who performed the surgery would be better at it than she would.

So, despite the fact that it was likely confirming his already negative opinion of her, Faith said, “She’s probably better off with you.”

“Probably,” he said snidely.

Then he took her dog and walked out the door that led to whatever was behind the examining room, leaving Faith staring, slack-jawed, at the door he closed behind himself.

“The only thing worse than a hayseed is a rude, nasty hayseed,” she muttered to herself.

“I heard that,” came Boone Pratt’s deep voice from just beyond that door.

Faith wasn’t thrilled to know he’d heard her.

But still, loud enough for him to also hear, she said, “Good!”

Then she turned tail and walked out of the office of a man who might be drop-dead gorgeous but who—as far as she was concerned—could just drop dead.

Well, after he fixed Charlie’s tooth, anyway.

Chapter Two

“Uh, Miss Charlie, the rule in this house is that the animals stay off the bed—that’s why you have a pillow on the floor,” Boone Pratt informed the schnauzer early Monday morning when he awoke to his patient sitting beside him on his king-sized mattress, facing him with an unwavering—and pitiful—stare.

His own five dogs—all of them at least four times bigger than the schnauzer—were looking on from various spots around his bedroom, probably wondering at the smaller mutt’s audacity.

But reprimanded or not, Charlie curled up against Boone’s side with a small whine to let him know she still didn’t feel well.

“I know, nobody likes to be sick,” he commiserated, curving one arm around her to pet her with a minimum of effort.