Page 54 of His Country
Personally, Aiden liked the mystery.
There were only two cars in the small lot out front. Aiden recognized Ethan’s truck and a SUV he thought might belong to the receptionist. Easing into the space beside the SUV he threw the truck in park and sat back in the worn seat.
The clinic itself was a one-story building. Originally, it had been a small waiting room and exam room. Over the years they’d built onto it, expanding until it was a puzzle of buildings tucked into every corner.
Behind the reception area was a treatment room, a big indoor space with two stocks for the livestock and stainless-steel counters. Through a big set of double doors was a small stable where patients could wait to be seen, and then a long gravel drive to the main barn where long term patients stayed.
Aiden had been over every square inch of this place. Last year, during the slow season, he’d helped Dr. Groves out a bit. Basic stuff like cleaning stalls and bandaging. He learned a lot. Dr. Groves had once said, “The greatest injury an animal can receive is a terrible owner.”
After two days at the clinic Aiden understood why Dr. Groves was such an asshole to his clients. Most of them deserved it.
Rubbing his cold hands together, Aiden yanked opened the door and let gravity drag him out of the truck. Sugar leapt out beside him, darting off to go play in the untouched snow piled up beside the clinic.
Straightening his jacket, Aiden made to walk around the truck when something caught his eye. Beside the door hung a nameplate that said: Dr. Paul Groves, DVM. It was so old it nearly blended into the brickwork. But the sign beside it was new, stark white against the aged building.
Dr. Ethan Landry, DVM.
Aiden reached out to touch it. He traced the lines, lingering longer than he should. It was easier to look at his name than at the man himself.
Sugar popped her head around the corner, deep brown eyes blinking up at him as if to say,you’re stalling.
“I’m thinking,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.
She cocked her head.Chickenshit.
“Fine.” He skirted past her, ignoring the way her tail started wagging harder as she followed him to the back door.
He had no idea where Ethan would be, but he was hoping by the time he found him he’d know what to say. Why he thought that, he had no idea. Aiden had spent three days trying to figure out what to say.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know why he was here, or how he was feeling. Aiden just didn’t have any idea how to articulate it. He’dspent his whole life keeping quiet, pushing everything down so he didn’t have to feel a thing. And now he was trying to do the opposite.
The results of which remain to be seen.
He heard a shrill whinny when he stepped into the barn. The grey skies outside weren’t enough to penetrate the gloom, and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkened interior of the barn. A filly had her delicate head over the stall door, lips quivering as she watched him approach. Aiden scratched behind her fuzzy ears, snorting when she tried to chew on his jacket.
Glancing down he saw a neat line of stitches across her shoulder. He recognized the steadiness of the work.
“Silly girl,” he said gently, stroking down her neck. She pursed her lips when he scratched at her chest. “What did you get into?”
“T post.”
He startled, spooking the little filly. Aiden apologized to her, petting her nose before looking up.
Ethan was standing at the back of the barn, arms crossed. Aiden pulled his arm from the stall and tried to take a step towards Ethan, but his knees locked. His entire body went taut like a coil, pulled in two directions—Ethan’s and the open door behind him. They both tugged on him, and he knew a snap was inevitable. He just didn’t know which one would give first.
“What do you want?” Ethan asked, voice harder than Aiden had ever heard it before. “I’m busy.”
He was wearing jeans and a fleece pull over. His stethoscope hung over his neck and there were empty syringes hanging out of his pockets.
Aiden fidgeted in place, looking down at his feet. “I’m here, ain’t I?”
Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “For how long?” he asked, incredulous. “That’s the problem, Aiden. You’re always here but you never stay.”
That was fair. Didn’t mean it hurt any less.
Swallowing, he forced himself to raise his head. The dark bags under his eyes were nearly the same color as his eyes. Fine wrinkles pinched at the corners. He looked pale, more than the usual, like he hadn’t been sleeping or eating.
Ethan had been hurting, maybe as much as Aiden, and that was wrong. Someone like Ethan, so confident and assured in the space he took up, shouldn’t be second guessing himself. Shrinking so he didn’t take up as much space.