Page 54 of Family Jewels

I stewed for a good ten minutes of the drive before I looked down at Muffy, who was lying on the seat with her head in my lap. The sight was enough to make me realize my priorities were totally screwed up. I was going to Henryetta Animal Clinic because Muffy was hurt, not because I was looking for a date.

By the time I’d pulled into the parking lot, I’d convinced myself that I was about to see Dr. Romano in a professional setting. Nothing more would happen.

When I walked into the office with Muffy in my arms, the receptionist looked up from her desk and heaved an exasperated sigh. Her light brunette hair looked just as crazy as it had on my last visit—when Neely Kate and I had come in after finding that stray baby pig.

“Honey,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I hope your dog’s really hurt, because I’m tired of fitting in all these emergency appointments. This ain’t a matchmaking service.”

The last thing I wanted to do was react, but I felt my cheeks burning again. “Why would I make an appointment if Muffy wasn’t hurt?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re single, aren’t you? Shoot, some of the women in town are buying pets just to have an excuse to see Dr. Romano. Besides, you were covered in mud the last time you were here, and now you’re all spiffed up.”

I gasped in outrage. “Are you suggesting that I made an appointment—”

“Mary,” Dr. Romano said behind me in a good-natured tone. “Leave Rose alone.”

Mary looked ticked. “Dr. Romano—”

But he ignored her and motioned to the hall behind him. “Rose, why don’t you bring your dog on back.”

I walked into the exam room he was pointing to—the first door on the left—and he followed me inside and shut the door.

“Who do we have here?” he asked, letting Muffy sniff the top of his hand.

“This is my dog, Muffy,” I said, then shook my head, feeling like an idiot. “But then I guess you can tell she’s a dog.”

He grinned and his blue eyes twinkled. It was easy to see why so many women had suddenly become pet owners. “And I didn’t even need those four years of veterinary school to figure it out.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks.

“So what seems to be the trouble with Muffy?”

“Her back hip hurts, and she’s not putting much weight on it.”

“Has she had this problem before?”

“No,” I said. For a moment, I struggled with what I should tell him, but if he was going to help Muffy, he needed to know the truth. “Someone kicked her last night. Twice.”

His lightheartedness instantly vanished. “Someone kicked your dog?”

“I didn’t condone it,” I said with more defensiveness than I’d intended. “And the man who kicked her was dealt with.”

“Put her on the floor and let me watch her walk.”

I did as he instructed, feeling unsettled at his change in attitude. I set Muffy down, but she huddled next to my leg and refused to move.

Dr. Romano stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled something out before he squatted down in front of her. She sniffed the small treat in his hand and then gingerly took it from him.

“Is she usually shy around strangers?” he asked, still watching her as he scooted back several feet and held out another treat.

“No, but she seems to sense when someone’s a threat.”

He grinned up at me. “So she sees me as a threat?”

“No. She’d be growling if she did.”

He nodded. “Does she usually take treats?”

“Yes, she eats anything and everything.” I paused. “But she also . . . passes gas. A lot of it.”