She laughed. “Yes. Jeff sent it. I hadn’t eaten anything all day. It was so kind of him!”
He didn’t reply. He was going to have something to say to his friend about letting her make that assumption, though.
She glanced at him.
“Jeff’s a prince,” he said belatedly. He pressed the button so the vet could buzz them in. Even here, in the boondocks, security was a big deal at a vet’s office. They kept a store of medicines, including narcotics. There had already been one robbery here. The owners were understandably cautious.
Dr. Clay greeted them and led them back to Snow’s cage, where she was still on oxygen and a drip.
She looked at them drowsily.
Dr. Clay laughed. “We’ve had to sedate her. She wanted to get up and instruct us in the proper management of her case,” she added, tongue-in-cheek. “Odd thing about huskies, that so-superior attitude of theirs.”
“I know.” Meadow laughed, settling on the floor beside Snow, to rub her fur. “She’s always like that.”
Snow nuzzled her hand. She looked up at Dal and panted, her blue eyes laughing at him. He knelt beside Meadow and smoothed over Snow’s head.
“Poor baby,” he murmured gently.
The vet, watching the two of them, was seeing more than they realized. She just smiled.
“Will she recover?” Meadow asked after a minute.
“Yes. As I told you, there may be some neurological issues to deal with. We’ll keep her under observation for a few days. I’ll have Tanny special her tonight so she’s not alone. If anything goes wrong, I live less than five minutes away and I’m a light sleeper,” she added when she saw the new lines of stress on Meadow’s face.
The lines relaxed. “Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Oh, she did all the work,” the doctor said with a smile. “She’s got grit. That will mean a lot while she’s getting back on her feet.”
“Can I come and see her tomorrow?”
“Every day, whenever you like,” the vet replied.
“All right. That makes it a little easier.”
“You find whoever did this to her,” the vet said suddenly. “He needs to be locked up!”
“I’ll find him,” Meadow said, and it was a promise.
Dal drove her back home. He was reluctant to leave. “I don’t like having you here on your own,” he said curtly. “You can come stay at the ranch. I’ve got five spare bedrooms.”
She swallowed and flushed, sure he was going to go right up the ceiling and the truce would be over when she refused.
“I see,” he said softly, smiling at her embarrassment. “That squeaky-clean reputation wouldn’t allow it.”
“We all have our handicaps,” she began.
“It’s not a handicap,” he replied, his voice deep in the stillness of snow and darkness. He searched her eyes in the porch light. “My grandmother would have reacted exactly the same. She was a tiny little woman, sweet and kind and gentle.” His face hardened. “My grandfather got drunk and knocked her around. Dad was afraid of him. I never was. As soon as I was big enough to hit back, I tackled him in the living room one day and told him to leave my grandmother alone. After that, he still drank, but he never touched my grandmother.”
She touched the soft white fur that peeked out of the lapel of his sheepskin jacket. “Nobody in my family drank,” she said. “But I started dealing with drunks when I was seventeen and volunteered at the St. Louis police department.” She laughed. “Mama had a fit. She tried to talk the captain out of hiring me, but there was a shortage of peace officers. He reassured her that they’d watch out for me. And they did. They were a great bunch of people.”
“Why law enforcement?” he wanted to know.
“I’m not sure. I think I was looking for a way out of marrying this man Mama had picked out for me,” she confessed. “He was a lot older than I was, very rich, and she said he’d take care of me.” She pursed her lips. “Two years after that, he was arrested for dealing drugs. I was in on the bust. Mama was appalled,” she added on a chuckle.
“So much for her judgment,” he agreed.
“She wanted me to marry and have a family.” She shrugged. “I knew that wasn’t going to happen,” she added sadly.