Valerie Hansen - The Perfect Couple

His concern brought her up short. So, there was a tender bone in Mr. Corbett's body after all. Well, well. What a surprise.

She reached into a cabinet beneath the supply rack and brought out a fluffy white towel, draping it over the exam table. “Okay. Lay him on this to begin with. If I need to do anything serious, we'll move him into surgery.”

Tyler began to slowly part the front of his coat and lean toward the towel. The puppy whimpered. “I'm afraid to move him much.”

“Here. I'll help.” She circled the table without thought and reached for the jacket, folding it back carefully. There seemed to be more blood on the man's shirt and coat lining than there was on the dog.

Kara took a moment to caress the puppy's face and check his gums for color. Thankfully, they were pink and healthy. He hadn't lost too much blood.

“That's a good boy. I'm your friend, too,” she cooed, sliding one hand along the length of his body and lifting gently. “Come on. That's it. You'll be just fine.”

Tyler leaned toward her, bending over the exam table, and together they maneuvered the injured dog out of the crook of his arm.

Kara continued speaking softly to reassure the puppy as she eased him down onto the towel. “That's good. Almost there.”

“Watch that front leg,” Tyler warned. “I think it may be broken.” He reached out to cradle the tiny bones. Kara did the same. Their hands accidentally touched.

She looked up, startled. Tyler was staring back at her as if he'd never seen her before. “You can let go, now,” she finally managed to say. “I've got him.”

“Right. I was just…” He frowned. “Never mind.”

Well, at least he didn't look angry anymore, she thought, relieved. She quickly refocused on the job at hand. “He's in shock, like you thought. That's why he was acting so cold. You probably saved his life by keeping him warm the way you did.”

“I didn't know what else to do. By the time I found him, he looked like he'd been there for some time. When I picked him up he started bleeding again.”

Kara was swabbing the matted fur around the wounds with peroxide as she assessed her patient. “There's one deep laceration on his shoulder and a few other smaller ones. I suspect you were right about the broken leg. Can't tell yet about internal damage. How was he hurt?”

“I think a car hit him. I found him by the side of the road.”

She nodded. “These injuries are consistent with that kind of an accident. How long have you had him?”

Tyler pushed up the sleeve of his jacket and looked at his watch. “About fifteen minutes, give or take.”

“What?” She froze in midmotion.

“He's not my dog.”

“I see. Do you know who he belongs to?”

“Not a clue. I suppose he was dumped. Lots of folks seem to think that the country is a wonderful place to abandon unwanted animals.”

“I know what you mean. I got three of my own dogs that way. No telling how many others just wandered off and starved to death.”

“Or became a coyote's dinner.”

“Don't remind me.” She shivered. So did the pup.

“Will you be able to save him?”

“I think his chances are good. He's young. That's definitely in his favor. We'll start by sewing up the gash in his shoulder, then X-ray the leg to see if it needs a splint or a cast.”

Tyler raised one dark eyebrow. “We?”

“A figure of speech.”

“Oh.”

“However…” She did need help. And he was handy. There was nothing wrong with having him assist her. Besides, he'd always been disgustingly overbearing. It might be fun to turn the tables for a change, to see how he behaved in a situation where he wasn't the one giving all the orders.

A slight smile lifted the corners of Kara's mouth. She bent over the puppy, letting her long, brown hair sweep across her cheeks to hide her amusement until she could get it under control. “I could give him a general anesthetic instead of a local, but I'm afraid his already depressed nervous system might shut down if I do. That's why I'd rather not operate to pin the leg bones.”

“Sounds logical. So?”

“So, I'll need you to hold him still while I work.”

“I have a lot to do at the ranch,” he alibied.

“Fine.” She straightened, managed to face him soberly. “I'll call Susan to come back in. Even if she's home, it could take her a while to get here, though. I'd rather do what's best for the dog.”

“Which is?”

“Start immediately. You don't have to help. I can always chase him around the hospital with a needle and sutures while he hops along on a broken leg.”

“Very funny.”

“Just making a point.” Kara's smile crept back. Mischief lighted her eyes. “Well?”

Muttering under his breath, Tyler shed his coat and began to roll up his sleeves. “Okay. You win. What do I do first?“

Kara was amazed at how competent her drafted assistant turned out to be. All she had to do was tell him once and he did whatever she said. Correctly. His compassion for the injured little dog was even more impressive.

They had successfully tended to the puppy's wounds, X-rayed his leg and started to set it. As soon as the bones were stabilized the pup had settled right down, exhausted.

Up to her wrists in the slippery solution that was part of the new, lightweight casting material, Kara realized she'd forgotten to pull back her hair and it was getting in the way. She blew it out of her eyes, tossed her head, rubbed her cheek against one shoulder…. Nothing worked.

Tyler was steadying the sleepy puppy, gently stroking its head and leaning close to speak softly to it as if Kara weren't there. “Your doctor's got a problem, kid. Yes, she does. I think she needs a haircut.”

She tried her best to ignore the taunt. A wild hair stuck to the perspiration on her forehead and tickled her lashes. When she tried to wipe it away with her forearm, it whipped into her right eye. Squeezing that eye tightly shut, she wished mightily for a second pair of hands. Hands that didn't belong to smart aleck Tyler Corbett.

“I think she's winking at me,” he told the pup. “Either that or she's making eyes at you.” He glanced up at Kara, giving her a lopsided grin. “Want some help?”

That was the last straw. “Oh, no. I'll just sit here and go blind while my hands become a permanent part of this dog's cast.”

“I take it that was a yes.”

“Yes.” She made a contrite face. “Please.”

“That's better. I hate it when people aren't specific. What do you want me to do? Cut it off?”

“My hair? No!” she snapped back without thinking. His resultant chuckle aggravated her. Of course he hadn't intended to actually cut her hair! How dense could she be?

Kara pulled herself together, helped by the fact that her eye was really beginning to smart. “There's a big clip in the right-hand pocket of my jeans. Use that.”

Hesitating, Tyler raised one dark eyebrow and eyed the slim hips encased in form-fitting denim. “I don't suppose you could hand it to me, could you?”

“Of course not.” Kara suddenly understood exactly what was stopping him and her cheeks warmed in a bright blush. “Tell you what. Why don't you just come over here and hold the hair back for a few minutes. Get it out of my eyes. I'm almost done.”

Tyler wasn't in any hurry to accommodate her. He was still recovering from the bewilderment he'd felt when their hands had touched. Just because he was a widower and Kara Shepherd was a widow didn't mean he was interested in forming any kind of relationship with her. Or with any woman, for that matter. There would never be anyone like his Deanne. She'd been the perfect wife. Practically a saint.

Which meant he'd certainly be immune to any mild charm a prickly person like Kara might have, he reasoned logically. Pulling her hair back for her would be no more exciting than combing the tail of his favorite Quarter horse.