Cattle grazed behind split-rail fences, unperturbed by her car passing by them. She hadn’t seen another vehicle on the road since she had turned onto it. Maybe these cattle were a laid-back breed since they didn’t seem at all bothered by her car. Then again, the only breed she could actually identify was the Texas longhorn. The closest she had ever gotten to wildlife was an occasional mouse.
Slowing, she saw an old-fashioned metal sign, engraved with HVC, hanging from a post. Just as the directions had described. Turning, she passed beneath a tall wrought-iron arch.
Looked like a peaceful place for her son to rethink his actions. She looked upward, her automatic response to ask the Lord for help. But He had allowed Ted to needlessly die. Clenching the steering wheel harder, Olivia felt she could no longer turn to Him.
She wheeled their car to the front of the old ranch house. A wide wraparound porch encircled the structure. Tall double doors, which appeared to be perpetually propped open, welcomed them at the top of the broad wooden steps. Olivia led the way, Joey trailing her.
Once inside, she took in the large room off to the left that looked like a man’s comfortable den. To the right was a reception area. Arched wooden pocket doors as tall as the high ceilings were slid partway open to the den and fully open to the business side.
Not seeing anyone sitting at the scarred wood desk, Olivia entered the reception area. A scattering of mismatched chairs looked more homey than shabby. She could see that the buttons on the telephone were flashing, perhaps on hold, perhaps going unanswered.
“What kind of dump is this?” Joey asked, staring around at the plain but comfortable room.
Olivia closed her eyes, wishing Joey could just be her Joey again. “Hush. We’re not in a big city. You know they don’t build places in Rosewood to impress people.”
“Angie? I need the file on Mitchell’s gelding,” an oddly familiar voice called out from a connected room.
The man, absorbed in the chart in his hands, walked into sight.
It couldn’t be. Could it?
He looked up, his memorable features quickly forming a smile.
And Olivia couldn’t think of a single word to say. HVC. Of course. She should have realized the acronym. Harrison Veterinary Clinic.
“Hello,” he greeted them with a warmth that she felt from across the room.
“We...” Her voice warbled. Clearing her throat, Olivia started over. “My son has been assigned to do his community service here.”
He lowered the chart, his gaze appraising. “I’ve been expecting you. Dorothy called this morning. Joey, I’m Zeke Harrison. We didn’t actually meet yesterday. And I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before.”
In typical fashion, Joey shrugged.
Olivia hurried to fill in the blanks. “We’ve only lived in Rosewood for about a year and a half.”
“And your family doesn’t have pets?” he questioned, helping the limping conversation along.
Olivia stared into his azure-blue eyes, instantly remembering how she had practically fallen into his arms. She shook her head. “No, we don’t. My husband...” Abruptly she halted.
“Your husband?” Zeke prompted, a flicker of something much like disappointment in his eyes.
“My dad was allergic to dogs and cats,” Joey jumped in, answering for her, apparently noticing her difficulty.
“Was?”
She recovered her voice. “My husband passed away.”
Zeke’s expression eased into one of understanding as he looked again at Joey. “I’m so sorry. That must be tough.”
“Yeah.”
Her son’s solitary word summed it up perfectly.
Zeke laid the chart down on the desk. “So do you like animals, Joey?”
“I guess.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Olivia indicated the empty chairs in the reception room. “Slow time?”
“Large-animal time. I reserve two mornings a week for owners who need to bring in their domestic stock but don’t need me to come to their places. Less expensive for them that way.”
Thoughtful. Olivia glanced down at her son. “Joey hasn’t been around...” She drew her eyebrows together in concern. “Exactly what types of large animals do you treat?”
Zeke looked at her in mild amusement. “Not too many elephants and giraffes in these parts. Mostly cattle and horses, donkeys, pigs, llamas, some sheep and goats.”
Flushing, she felt as silly as she had on their first encounter.
“My mom’s never lived in the country,” Joey explained.
Great. Even her sullen child was taking pity on her.
“Of course. I wasn’t thinking. So you treat regular pets, too?”
Zeke raised his eyebrows, his amusement still present. “Depends on your definition of regular. Dogs, cats, birds, pygmy hedgehogs, ferrets, lizards, snakes...”
Olivia gasped. “Joey won’t have to handle snakes, will he?”
“Mom!”
At that precarious age of twelve, poised between childhood and puberty, Joey was utterly horrified.
Belatedly realizing that, Olivia tried to cover her mistake. “I confess, I’m the one who’s scared of snakes. Joey’s pretty tough.”
Joey rolled his eyes, which told her her recovery attempt had been lame at best.
“It’s a nice place you have here,” Olivia remarked, hoping to change the subject.
“We like it.”
“We?” The instant the question was out, Olivia wished she could snatch it back.
“My tech—Angie—the animals, me.”
Olivia tucked away the information that he wasn’t married. “That’s good.”
“Well, Joey. What do you say?” Zeke asked. “Want to start today?”
Joey shrugged. “I guess.”
“Sounds good,” Olivia agreed, looking relieved. “He’s out of school for two weeks on suspension, but the time’s counted in community-service hours. The sooner he can start and accumulate his service hours, the less school he misses.”
Zeke glanced into her memorable violet eyes, recognizing her anxiety. But anxious or not, pretty or not, he had a practice to run and couldn’t ease her mind by overloading his own schedule. “Let’s just see how the morning goes.”
A quick flash of disappointment crossed her face. Then she smiled, her delicate features aligning to match.
“We appreciate you giving Joey an opportunity to do his community-service work here. I’m sure it’ll be good for him to interact with the animals.” Olivia squeezed her son’s shoulder in encouragement. “Well, I should go and let you get to it. Um, what time should I pick him up?”
“How about Joey calls you when he’s ready to leave?”
“Sure.” She bit down on her lip. “I’ll be at work some of the day. I’m an inventory clerk. It’s just a small part-time job at the pharmacy, about ten hours a week. But I’ll have my cell phone with me. Do you need any emergency contact numbers or—”
“The school gave them to me.”
“Oh, of course.” For a moment Olivia