The Country Vet. Eleanor Jones

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The Country Vet - Eleanor Jones


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      “There is that, I suppose.” Cass laughed.

      “Jake Munro has some puppies for sale,” Ben said. “I saw them a couple of days ago when I called in at Sky View. Bonnie little black-and-tans, they are. Well-bred, too, if you ever fancy taking up shepherding.”

      “Thanks, but I wasn’t really thinking of getting a sheepdog,” Cass replied.

      “You’d be surprised,” insisted Ben. “Welsh Collies make good pets, as you know. They’re trainable and loyal. You could do a lot worse. Jake’s not the easiest man to deal with, of course, but it might be worth going to have a look at them.”

      Cass nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve already come across Mr. Munro, so I know exactly what you mean. I’m about to rent a cottage from his dad, actually.”

      Ben stood up, retrieving his cap. “Speak to Bill. He’ll sort you out. Now I’d better go and get some work done. Oh...” He shifted from foot to foot. “Thanks for today.”

      “Glad to help.” Cass smiled. “Perhaps you can spread the news around the farming community that I’m not totally useless.”

      “He’ll certainly be doing that,” Cathy declared.

      Cass thought about going to see Jake Munro’s puppies as she drove along the narrow lane. She dismissed the idea, concentrating hard on the road ahead. She’d hardly been in the area for two minutes—better get herself settled first. And if she was going to get a dog, then perhaps it shouldn’t come from the one person around here she hadn’t hit it off with.

      Way down below, she could see a line of slow-moving vehicles around the edge of the lake. The water shimmered, smooth as glass, then disappeared behind a wall of trees as she dropped down the hill. Everywhere she went here seemed to be either up or down. A vague longing for the open spaces of home brought a rush of nostalgia. It was months since she’d been back to the bustling village of St. Thomas to see her parents. She made a mental note to phone her mum.

      Maybe this place would eventually come to feel like home. A warm glow settled over her as she remembered Ben Myers’s appreciative handshake. At least now the farming community might begin to gain confidence in her ability to do her job.

      * * *

      AT SKY VIEW STABLES, Jake was heading for the house, his whole body aching with fatigue born of far more than just physical effort. As the kitchen door swung shut behind him, Bess, his loyal black-and-tan Welsh Collie, looked up at him adoringly. She was nursing her squirming brood of pups in a dog bed by the stove. The smallest puppy wriggled to the side of the bed, and she nudged it carefully back in beside her before looking back at Jake with shining eyes.

      “You’re a good mother, Bess,” he told her, bending to scratch her ears. She squirmed in delight and he gave a wry smile. Straightening, he crossed the kitchen to flick on the kettle switch. The radio came on at the same time. Before he could turn it down, a deep male voice announced the next track.

      And here’s the number one song, ‘Love me True,’ from Tamara’s long-awaited album of the same name.”

      Jake stood there, frozen, as Tara’s throaty tones flooded into the room. It was as if the radio announcer had read his thoughts. A memory of her beautiful face filled his mind, bringing back memories.... Trouble was, all he’d seen back then was her beauty. He turned off the radio, welcoming silence, and for the millionth time, he wondered if things would have been different if Tara hadn’t entered that singing competition.

      His mother always tried to see the best in people, even finding a way to excuse Tara for walking out on him and the children. “She was going to leave eventually,” Gwen had told him in the dark days after Tara had left them. “She’s always been like a caged bird, and all you’ve really done is set her free. At least we still have Lucy and Robbie. That’s the main thing.’

      Another sharp pain tore into him as he remembered his ex-wife at the funeral, tall and elegant and oh-so-beautiful, holding Robbie’s hand. He hadn’t realized then that she was going to take the little boy away with her right after the funeral. During the reception at the house, she had packed a few of Robbie’s toys and clothes while everyone else was downstairs, then she’d walked right out the front door with their son. She’d called Jake half an hour later, before he’d realized they were gone. She told him he wasn’t fit to look after Robbie, compounding his guilt. Crushed by the weight of his loss, he hadn’t been in a position to argue with her.

      The house had felt so empty then. Anger had eaten at Jake’s soul. He had been awarded custody of the twins after the divorce, but now Tara was threatening to get that decision overthrown. With the clever lawyers she had access to, anything was possible.

      Eventually he closed the shutters, forcing his mind away from all the memories, shutting them out. He had totally messed up with his marriage, his kids and his whole life. Perhaps he deserved to suffer. Now he had no one, and that was how he wanted it. Loving someone laid you open to pain, as far as he could see. He was safer on his own, and perhaps Robbie was safer with his mother.

      Something nudged Jake’s hand—a cold, wet nose. He curled his fingers into Bess’s coat. Sometimes love just crept up on you unexpectedly. That was what really scared him.

      Through the window, Jake could see his father walking slowly across the yard. When had he begun to look so old? They lived in the same house, and yet they hardly even spoke. What was that all about? On a sudden impulse, Jake opened the window and leaned out.

      “Coffee, Dad?”

      The old man looked over at him in surprise, a smile lighting up his well-worn features.

      “Yes...thanks, son. I’ll be there in a minute.”

      * * *

      BILL AND JAKE had become used to moving around the house in silence, getting on with their everyday lives without really communicating. Now they sat uneasily at the kitchen table, sipping strong coffee and watching Bess’s pups wriggling out of their dog bed, missing the comfort of their mother’s warmth and milk. Ignoring them, Bess sat at her master’s feet.

      The biggest pup, a bold black dog with a white line down his face, bounced across the floor toward his mother, and she sank onto her side, allowing him to nurse.

      “Time you were finding homes for them,” Bill remarked.

      Jake nodded. “I’ve been asking around.”

      “As I already said, Cass is looking for a dog.”

      Jake looked up sharply, meeting his father’s eyes. “Not that vet again?”

      Bill sighed, draining his mug and slamming it down on the tabletop. “I don’t know what you’ve got against her. It wasn’t her fault about Rosie, and she’ll be no bother as a tenant.”

      “It’s not about Rosie.”

      “Well, what’s it about, then?”

      “She doesn’t even look like a vet.”

      Bill smirked. “And what exactly is a vet supposed to look like?”

      Jake shrugged, recognizing how lame his excuse sounded. “Well, definitely not like someone who could be blown over by a breath of wind.”

      “And definitely not beautiful, eh?” Bill said.

      “She’s hardly beautiful,” Jake muttered. But he remembered the way he had felt when they first came face to face in the yard.... Was that why he had this compulsion to avoid her at all costs?

      Bill stood up, shaking his head. “Okay, forget it. It was just a thought. You need to find homes for the pups, and she’s looking for a dog. The way you feel about her has nothing to do with it.”

      “Oh, do what you want,” Jake snapped. “Ask her if she wants a puppy, then, but keep her away from me.”

      “It seems to me that maybe she’s made too much of an impression on you,


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