Page 12 of No Kind Words (Calston Cove #3)
I can’t believe how many people have come along to the opening or how so many are registering their pets.
The welcome from everyone touches me in ways I never expected.
They share memories of my childhood, many I’d forgotten. Some I preferred not to be reminded about, but the most surprising was the apology from the retired GP.
“I wish I’d stepped in to stop what was going on under everyone’s eyes.
Your father was a bully to many people but the most brutal to you.
And for that, I apologise. I should’ve stopped him long before you had to leave. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”
It felt like a sucker punch to my gut.
My cheeks heat, not with the anger that should’ve been my first reaction but with sadness for the old man in front of me.
“You don’t need to apologise. I doubt anything you said would’ve made a ha’p’orth of difference. He was an evil old bastard, worse when he drank. I’m sure he’s got what he deserves.”
“You’re too kind, but thank you.”
He gives me a look that has a wicked gleam in it. “You’ll find happiness here. You’re among a lot of like-minded men.”
With a small smile, he wanders off to talk to someone else.
I’m left reeling at his parting words.
He knows I’m gay.
He knew I was gay.
I glance around the room.
Everyone who has befriended me is here.
And I can see at least half a dozen gay men, and there may be more I haven’t met yet.
Including the main reason I’m back—Ben, the elusive baker.
The man known as Benny by the people in town, the one I’m too afraid to reach out to.
He’s single and without any long-term partners, or so everyone says. Yet we’re both stubbornly ignoring each other.
The chatter and laughter quieten, and I look at the door that has just beeped open.
Without being able to see who has just come in, I walk forward, ready to greet and thank them for coming along.
The injured dog is the first thing I notice, and I rush forward to take it.
“What happened?”
I ask, then look at the person carrying the animal.
My heart stops—Ben. He looks like he’s in shock. His arms are shaking as he holds on tight to the wounded dog. “I…I don’t know. I heard the whimpers coming from under the hedge on the corner of Sandy Lane. He was hiding.”
“You’re soaking wet.”
His dirty blond hair is plastered to his face, his coat drenched through. The drizzle from earlier must have turned into a downpour. As if proving my thoughts, thunder rattles the window of the reception.
He lets out a dark, humourless chuckle. “You don’t say. It took me a long time to coax him out. I can see his leg is broken.”
“I need to get him into an exam room. Maeve?”
I call to her, but Ben shakes his head.
“I’ve got him. I’ll bring him through.”
Maeve follows us through the packed room and into the largest exam room at the rear of the building, where we have the X-ray machine. Maeve appraises the dog and gives me a look that she can see something I haven’t yet. Hopefully, they won’t have to move him around too much.
Ben slowly and carefully lowers the dog onto the examination table. There’s no doubt of the damage done. His femur, the thigh bone, is protruding through the fur. Which indicates he was hit by a car. He couldn’t have been under the hedge for long before Ben found him. Otherwise, the dog wouldn’t have survived with the amount of blood loss this had caused.
“Is it bad?”
Ben asks with a wobble in his voice. He rests his hand on the dog’s head, stroking through the sopping fur.
“You may have saved his life. This is very serious. He’s lost a lot of blood. I’m going to X-ray the leg and check for any other injuries. It’s probably from a traffic accident, so his ribs could be damaged, and he may have some internal injuries. He’s very poorly, Ben.”
His name on my tongue retrieves memories I’ve kept locked away for so many years, and an emotion I’ve been guarding for as long breaks free. I have to clamp my jaw shut to stop me telling him how much I’ve missed him. Now is not the time. But will there ever be a right time?
“Do you think he belongs to anyone?”
“I can check for a microchip once I’ve got him stable. We’ve got him from here. You’ve done the right thing.”
As I take over and get to work on her, he slumps. Shit, I’ve offended him by dismissing him. I didn’t mean to, but I must get the dog stable first.
“Okay.”
He strokes the dog’s head again. It’s obvious how difficult it is for him to leave him. “Would you, um, I mean, can I wait? I won’t be any trouble. I want to know how he is.”
“Of course. You may want to go home, get some clean, dry clothes,”
Maeve says kindly but stops short when she sees the determination on his face. “Or we have some scrubs here.”
A knock on the door is followed by Luke popping his head around. “Sorry to interrupt, boss. Everyone has done the clearing up and has left. Do you need me to stay?”
“Can you show Ben to the scrub room and find him something clean for him to wear? He’s going to wait while we operate. You’re free to go after that. Thank you for all your help tonight.”
Luke looks to me, then Maeve, then to Ben. “Um, okay. Benny, it’s this way.”
The door closes behind them, and I focus on the dog. Maeve has already got an IV line into the dog with fluids to hydrate it and the X-ray ready to go. Damn, I’m off my game. “I’m sorry. That was kinda weird. I wasn’t expecting to see him, not after the way you said he dismissed you. Which was bloody rude, by the way.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that already. Can we get to work and forget about him? This is more important.”
So that’s what we do. We insert a metal rod to bring the two broken parts together and stabilise the leg. The poor dog, that is actually a she, not a he, has had a rough night ahead of her. Along with the broken leg, she’s got broken ribs, a lot of cuts and abrasions, and bruising to her stomach and liver. The torn foot pads and ripped nails have been bandaged. Plus, a cut above her eye needed stitching. Whoever hit her must have been travelling at some speed. I’d like to get my hands on them. A thin nylon collar with a bit of snapped lead still attached is wrapped around her neck. There’s more to this than just a hit and run, and the idea of what makes me shudder. Was she dragged? Once she’s patched up and coming out of the anaesthetic, I carry her through to the crates and get her settled. Her drips have antibiotics and painkillers flowing through them.
“We need to check for a microchip.”
Maeve has the scanner already in her hand. After running the device over his body, it beeps, bringing up a number.
“Bugger,”
she says. “I was kind of hoping there wasn’t one. I’ll go and run it through the database and get the details.”
I nod and stay with the dog. I have a horrible feeling Ben is going to be disappointed that she has an owner. It will hurt to tell him, but hopefully, the knowledge that he saved the dog’s life will be enough for him. With a final pat, I close the crate door and go to the office to write up the details of the surgery and injuries. Maybe they would be useful if it ever came to finding the Formula One wannabe.
Maeve comes storming into the room with a face like thunder. “That fucking wanking-tosspot-arsehole.”
She collapses onto the chair. “You wanna know what he said?”
Her Scottish accent becomes so much more pronounced as she gets angrier. “He said he wasn’t going to pay a penny for fixing her up. She wasn’t supposed to survive. Whatever the hell that means, and that we should go ahead and put her down.”
“Who was it? Someone from the town?”
I can’t believe someone from around here would do such a thing.
“That’s just it. The address on the database is somewhere in Exeter. I think they drove down here and dumped her. He could be the one who hit her.”
The idea of what really happened feels more possible. “You could be right, but we can’t prove anything. She’s going to be here for a few days anyway. We can seek out foster care.”
I scrub my hand down my face. “I’m gonna go and talk to Ben.”
When I get out into the reception room, Ben is asleep, slumped in one of the comfy chairs, but he jolts upright as I stop in front of him.
“How is he?”