The spasticity he suffered from his multiple sclerosis kept him awake at night.
It wasn’t as bad as it was for some people, and he knew he was lucky that no one just looking at him could guess his condition. He liked it that way. Fought to keep it so. But that didn’t stop the damned stiffness that never seemed to go away. Sometimes he would lie there, trying to relax, and he would feel his muscles tightening so hard it almost felt like a vice. Then he would have to rub at his arm or his leg and hope that it would go away. It never did. And he knew it wouldn’t. But that didn’t stop him from trying.
So he’d spent the night alternately staring at the ceiling and getting up to check that the rabbit was still breathing.
At five a.m. he crawled out of bed, ready for a cup of tea, and checked on Lottie once more.
She’s still alive. Thank goodness!
He gave her some dandelion leaves from the back garden and happily watched as she chewed them down, Her appetite was still good. Then he tried to pipette some water into her mouth—which she didn’t like—so he decided to leave her a small bowl to drink from instead.
Anna was thrilled when she woke to find Lottie moving about in the bathroom. The rabbit’s left eye still looked pretty mangled, though, and Anna was keen for the time to pass so she could go to the vet with her dad before school.
‘You won’t be at the vet, Anna. I’m dropping you at breakfast club, as normal.’
‘But, Daddy, I want to go! Please?’
‘No, Anna. I’m sorry.’
It was important that she kept to her routine. He hated changing things in Anna’s life. And, though the incident with Lottie was out of the ordinary, it didn’t mean that Anna’s life had to be disturbed. It had changed enough already. Her mother had walked out on them both, not to mention that he had his diagnosis to deal with. Life for Anna would change dramatically at some point, if his condition worsened. Best to keep things as normal as he could, for however long he could. He would not have her upset unnecessarily.
Anna pouted for a bit, but got in the car happily and whispered good things to Lottie through the carrier door as he drove. ‘You’ll be okay, Lottie. The vet will take good care of you.’
With his daughter at breakfast club, Nathan drove to work, parked, and then walked across the road to the veterinary surgery with Lottie in her carrier once more. He was kind of proud of his daughter’s little rabbit. Getting through a severe trauma and surviving. It was like finding a kindred spirit, and after getting up all night to check on her he felt he was bonding with her. And though last night he’d almost expected to have to tell Sydney to put Lottie to sleep, the fact that she’d lived... Well, he was kind of rooting for her now.
He was looking forward to seeing Sydney’s reaction. She was an intriguing woman, and he was keen for her to see that the rabbit was still alive and find out her plan of action. But picturing the look of surprise on her face, or even trying to imagine what her smile might be like, was doing surprising and disturbing things to his insides. Things he didn’t want to examine too closely for fear of what they might mean.
The bell above the door rang as he walked through, clutching the carrier, and he headed over to the reception desk, where a veterinary nurse sat.
‘Lottie Jones to see Sydney, please.’
‘Ah, yes. Please take a seat—you’ll be called through in a moment.’
He sat and waited, his nerves strangely on edge. For the rabbit? For himself? For seeing Sydney again? Last night when he’d lain awake he’d thought about her a great deal. She was very beautiful, and totally out of his league, but...she intrigued him. For all that she’d been through—the loss of her daughter—she seemed surprisingly together. A little terse, maybe, but professional and she clearly cared for her animal charges.
What made her tick? What kept her going? Her bravery in the face of immense tragedy was a very positive force, and he liked to surround himself with positive people. He needed that; he tried to stay positive himself. Perhaps just by knowing her a little bit better he might learn her secret? If she ever forgave him for what he’d said. She was a strong woman. Determined. He could see that. The complete antithesis of Gwyneth.
He shook his head as he thought of his thoughtless advice to her. Warm milk?
So busy was he, feeling embarrassed for what he’d said, that he wasn’t ready when she opened her surgery door and called his name. ‘Dr Jones?’
He looked up, startled. Today, her long brown hair was taken up into a messy ponytail. There were little wavy bits hanging free around her face, and even without make-up she looked amazing. He quickly cursed himself for noticing.
He got up, loudly cleared his throat and took the carrier through to her consulting room, determined to be distant and professional.
‘She’s still with us. Lottie survived the night.’
He placed the carrier onto her examination table and stood quite far back, as if the physical distance would somehow stop him stealing glances at her.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Okay. Let’s have a look at her.’
He watched as Sydney’s very fine hands opened the carrier and she gave Lottie a thorough assessment, listening to her chest and abdomen with her stethoscope, taking the rabbit’s temperature, checking the bites and scratches and finally examining the wounded eye.
He tried not to take notice of the small beauty mark on Sydney’s bared neck, her delicate cheekbones, or the way she bit her bottom lip as she concentrated. She had a very fine mouth. With full, soft-looking lips.
Dragging his eyes away from her mouth, he stared hard at Lottie. Focus on the rabbit!
‘It’s impossible for me to see if the eyeball itself has ruptured. The damage is too extensive. But until the swelling goes down I don’t think we should assume that it has. I’m going to prescribe antibiotic drops for her eye, more painkillers, and a drug to keep her digestive system working which is an oral medicine. Rabbits don’t like receiving oral meds, so if you can put the medicine in a food that you know she will eat you can get it into her that way.’
He nodded, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Lottie’s thick black fur so that he didn’t accidentally start staring into Sydney’s soft grey eyes. ‘Okay. How often does she need the meds?’
‘The eye drops three times a day, the oral meds four times a day. Will you be able to do that?’
He thought about his work schedule. It would be tough. But manageable. Perhaps if he kept Lottie in her carrier at work? In an unused room?
‘I’ll find a way.’
‘I’ll need to see her in about four days’ time. The swelling should have gone down by then, we’ll know if the antibiotics have worked, and I’ll be able to see if the eye needs to be removed.’
He risked a glance at her wide almond-shaped eyes. ‘She’d cope with that?’
‘Not all rabbits do well with surgery, and if we do have to remove the eye then she could be susceptible to further infection. Keep it clean. Bathe it with cooled boiled water when you can—three or four times a day.’
‘Like a proper patient.’ He smiled and closed the door on the carrier once again. ‘Thank you, Sydney, for seeing us last night. I appreciate that you were probably closed and your staff were ready to go home.’
She glanced away, her cheeks glowing slightly, before she began typing notes into her computer. ‘It was no problem.’
He watched her where she stood by the computer. It was better with her further away and not looking at