If asked, most people would say Friday or Saturday was their favorite day. Not so for Miley. To her, Tuesdays were the best day of the week. She looked forward to Tuesdays with the same single-minded focus of a kid waiting for Christmas. That was the day she dedicated to being in the clinic and working with small animals. She lived for Tuesdays.

Topping off the travel mug of her favorite caffeine-laden citrus drink, Miley hopped down the three steps of her camper and locked the door. Old habits died hard for her, and she couldn't get into the habit so many had in this small community of 1500 by leaving her home unlocked. Pocketing her keys, she walked the thirty yards from her place to the back door of the clinic. She noticed one of the outdoor runs was occupied with a large calico dog. Squatting, she stuck her fingers through the mesh.

"Good morning, Darby," she crooned softly. "You're looking much better today." Craning her neck, she noted the food bowl was almost empty. "Good appetite now. I think you're about ready to go home." She ran her fingers through the fur of the Australian shepherd's muzzle as the tail wagged happily. "Give me a few minutes to get situated. We'll get you checked over and call your mama."

Standing, Miley pressed the code that gained her entrance through the back. It was one of the improvements she had implemented since taking over Pop-pop's practice. In an emergency, putting in a code was preferable to trying to juggle keys. That had been the case two days ago when she had been awakened at three am by a frantic Silva McMillan beating on the door of her trailer. Darby, one of their working dogs, was non-responsive. With her mind on her patient, Miley didn't have time to hunt down her keys. Those few minutes may not have made a difference, but then again, they may have.

Miley walked through the clinic to the front room. Her veterinarian tech and only employee sat at the front counter watching the news playing softly on the television mounted on the wall. "Morning, Chloe."

"Morning, Doc. We've got three appointments this morning including a neuter. It looks like we may be out of here by two unless something happens."

Miley took a drink of her cup and grunted. Placing the mug on the counter, she leaned on it and watched a few minutes of the broadcast. They were still talking about the capture of that al-Bashir terrorist in the Middle East a couple of weeks ago by a team of Navy SEALs. She knew that people like that existed in the world, but it was so far removed from her reference it was almost fiction. It was said he masterminded the attack on a book convention in Phoenix earlier this year. Miley grimaced. She didn't know if she really believed that to be true. Why would a man living half a globe away care about a little book thing in the US? It was crazy.

"Darby's ready to go home. Would you call Silva and let her know?"

Chloe nodded and turned the channel to a local one. Standing, she stretched and placed the remote under the counter. "Ever figure out what was going on with her?"

Miley shook her head. "It's like she was poisoned, but the contents of her stomach came back negative." She shrugged. "At first, I thought it was larkspur, but dogs aren't normally drawn to them like cattle are. Then I thought it might be intentional like anti-freeze but with the stomach contents negative, I don't know. She's doing much better now."

"What about those places on her paws?"

"Silva said Darby likes to climb rocks on the back side of their property, so I think it's scrapes that got infected. She perked up a lot after we cleaned them out and started her on fluids and antibiotics."

Chloe nodded in agreement. "That reminds me. Did you ask Silva if it was true about her son and that Hollywood starlet?"

"No, and I'm not going to. It's none of my business." Miley frowned.

"Come on, Doc. That's all the town is talking about right now. Allen Bishop said he was at the feed store last month and saw the two of them drive through town together. He said they were in some fancy car all decked out." Chloe's eyes gleamed. "It was all over the news that night. Don't you think that's exciting?"

"I think we have better things to do than to gossip about Allen Bishop's celebrity watch." Miley slapped her hand down on the counter. "And I think we need to concentrate on our own business. Go call Silva. And Chloe, when she gets here, I don't want you bringing up Ryker or Demma to her. Our concerns are with her animals, not her family."

"Yes, Ma'am," Chloe sighed heavily. "I think it's amazing we know someone who has actually met the Demma St. John." She walked through the back toward the runs. "It's not like we get a lot of excitement around here, you know," she called out as she disappeared.

Miley took a drink and chuckled to herself. She knew the rumor mill was cranking hard these days when it came to gossip surrounding Silva and Dean McMillan's only son, Ryker. If one believed them, Ryker was more than just Ms. St. John's personal guard assigned to her by some swanky publicity firm in Cali. She hadn't met Ryker, so reserved her judgment.

The bell sounded, and she turned. A tall, thin man in his thirties walked through the door and pulled off his sunshades. Miley grinned largely and moved around the counter. "Jessie! I was asking Pop-pop about you a couple of days ago. He said he hadn't heard from you in a while. How are you doing?" She stepped up and hugged the man tightly.

"I'm doing well, kiddo." He returned the hug and stepped back. "You're looking fantastic."

"Not so much of a 'kiddo' anymore. What are you doing slumming in Wyoming? I figured you would have run so far away from here there would be smoke on your heels." She leaned back on the counter.

He laughed as he looked around the place. "Yeah, well you know what they say, you can leave home, but home never leaves you. I miss being here."

Miley was instantly transported back to summers gone by when a teenage Jessie schlepped for Pop-pop as first an errand boy and later a vet tech. She remembered too fondly the crush she had developed the year she was sixteen and watched him as he worked. If Jessie knew about her feelings, he never mentioned it. He'd left a few years ago to pursue his animal science degree.

"So, what can I do for you?"

"Right to the point, Miley. Some things never change." Jessie wrinkled his brow. "The truth is I came over to see if you needed some help. Granny had a massive stroke last month. I had to put her into a full care facility. The other cousins are pissed at me but none of them are willing to take her in, and she can't live alone anymore. In the meantime, the internship I had in Idaho has ended, so I'm in a state of flux. I was hoping I could find somewhere to light until this thing with Granny is taken care of. In the meantime, I have a lot of student loans to pay back, so even though I'm staying in her house, I can't afford to slum around. I called Doc. He said you were the head honcho now, so I came over to throw myself on your mercy."

Miley remembered how much Jessie enjoyed working with Pop-pop out in the meadows and fields. He had an awesome manner, and people trusted and loved him. A warm feeling filled her as possibilities blossomed in her mind. With him here, she would be a little freer. As it was, she was tied to her telephone 24/7 with no time just for herself. She grinned. "Well, I dunno, Jessie. Do you have any references?" she teased.

The look on his face made her snort out loud. "You may have graduated two years before me, but I've been working in this place a lot longer."

"Joking, Jess. Of course, you have a job here. The only thing is, you know how things are around here. Busy, busy, busy for weeks then nothing for days. So, I can't afford to pay you a steady salary for an internship."

His face fell for just a minute. "Well, hourly is better than nothing."

Miley shook her head at him. "No, Jess, I'm not going to put you on hourly either. I was thinking more along the lines of contract basis. You work when you want and take some on-call nights so I can unhook the umbilical to the cell. Truthfully, I've been thinking about finding someone to help out a little just to give me a sanity break if for no other reason. I'll have to crunch some numbers, but I'm sure we can come to an agreement we both can live with. This way, when you're ready to leave, you'll have practical skills to go with the internship and tech experience. What do you think?"

Suddenly, Miley was snatched into a crushing hug. "What do I think? Jeez, Miley, that's better than I could hope for. It's a win-win for me. Thank you so much."

She disentangled herself from his grasp and took a step back. "Fantastic. I've got a few appointments in the clinic today. How about we meet at Ellie's for lunch and we'll hammer out the schedule and such?" She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and thrust it into his hands. "Throw your number in there, and I'll call you when I get free."

He took the device and programmed his number in then sent himself a text so he would have hers in return. Handing it back to her, he grinned widely. "Thanks again, Miley. Unfortunately, I need to take a rain check on lunch. I need to go take care of some things for Granny in Cody."

"Give a guy a great job, and he brushes you off. I see how you are, Jessie."

He chuckled. "No worries, I'll give you lots of opportunities to pay for my lunch." The smile fell. "Seriously, Miley, thanks. I don't know what I would have done if you had told me no."

The door opened, and a middle-aged man walked in. Scuffing his old boots to dislodge a dirt clod onto the mat, he pulled a beat-up straw hat from his head. "Doc? You got a minute?"

Miley nodded. "Hey, Yancy. Yeah give me just a second, I'll be with you." Turning to Jessie, she smiled again. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Jessie turned and walked to the door. "Sure thing. I'll give you a holler when I get back in town. Good morning, Mr. Yancy."

"Mornin', Jessie. Good to see you again. Tell your Granny I said hi."

"Will do."

After he left, she turned to her client. "What can I do for you, Yancy?"

"I've got a couple of head that are off their feed. I was wondering if you could come by and take a look at them later?"

"Of course," Miley said with what she hoped was sincerity. "It will be this afternoon; I have appointments scheduled today. Unless you think it's an emergency?"

Yancy shook his head. "Nah, it can wait. Come on out to the spread when you get done. If I'm not at the barn, I'll be in the southwest pasture." He grinned at her. "By the way, I finally got around to clearing out that place in the northeast corner and found what looks like a cellar hole."

Miley's heart skipped a beat. "You did?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yup. So bring that contraption with you, and I'll show you where it is."

"I sure will. Thanks, Yancy."

As the older rancher exited the waiting area, a woman entered holding a ball of fur in her hands. "Good morning, Mrs. Wash. Right on time." Miley reached out and ran her fingers through the soft fur. "Hello there, Sneezer. Time get you fixed."