His broad shoulders strained the limits of his flannel shirt.
And his loose jeans outlined his muscular thighs as he donned protective gloves and hunkered down in front of the cage.
Everything about him was big, including his hands, and yet Emily knew he performed surgery. Strong, yet precise, firm, yet tender … There was no telling what those capable hands would feel like on her bare skin. A shiver of desire passed through her.
She gave herself a mental eye roll and bawled herself out. Now? She was lusting over Seth when the German shepherd was suffering from who knew what? The animals here depended on her to keep them healthy and safe, and find them new homes. They came first. Always.
Seth Pettit was a gorgeous man. He’d also given up his night’s rest to help this dog. She’d best get her mind on the matters at hand.
Montana Vet
Ann Roth
To animal lovers everywhere
ANN ROTH lives in the greater Seattle area with her husband. After earning an MBA she worked as a banker and corporate trainer. She gave up the corporate life to write, and if they awarded PhDs in writing happily-ever-after stories, she’d surely have one.
Ann loves to hear from readers. You can write her at PO Box 25003, Seattle, WA 98165-1903, USA, or e-mail her at [email protected].
Recipe
Because dogs are an important part of this book, this recipe is for them.
Homemade Dog Treats
Ingredients
2½ cups rolled oats
Scant 1 tsp. salt (or less)
1 egg
1 tsp. beef or chicken bouillon granules dissolved in ½ cup hot water
Shredded cheese to your dog’s taste
Bacon bits (optional)
Directions
1 Preheat oven to 350 degrees
2 Mix bouillon/broth with remaining ingredients
3 Knead dough until it forms a ball (approximately 3 minutes)
4 Roll dough to ½ inch thick
5 Cut into slices or bone shapes
6 Place dough pieces on lightly greased cookie sheet
7 Cook for 30 minutes
Contents
So far, this had been a day of surprises—and not the good kind. Sitting at the front office desk, Emily Miles massaged her temples and thought back to eight o’clock, on what she’d assumed would be a normal Tuesday. She’d assumed wrong.
First Rich Addison, the seventy-something veterinarian who had volunteered at The Wagging Tail since Emily had opened the shelter four years ago, had shared the unwelcome news that he was retiring.
Retiring! The poor man’s wife had given him an ultimatum—either leave his career behind and start traveling with her, or live out the rest of his days as a divorced man. His last day was Friday. Emily had no idea where she’d find his replacement, and Rich hadn’t come up with any names, either.
On this warm, sunny day in the second week of September—normal weather for Prosperity, Montana—she’d opened all the windows. She easily heard the collective howls and barks coming from the dog runs in the backyard, where the six abandoned and/or abused animals she was sheltering until she found them good homes were enjoying the day as best as they could. At least they had been. The unhappy sounds made her wonder if they somehow understood this dire news and what it meant.
Because without an on-call veterinarian to come in when necessary, she would have no way of knowing if the animals she took in suffered from a contagious disease, or how to treat those