Olivia
The first day working with my perps is a nightmare. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m glad August is here, because if he weren’t, I have no doubt they either would’ve up and left, or continued vandalizing my shelter as if I weren’t even in the room. They’re just boys of seventeen, but it’s evident that in their own minds, they’re men. And there’s nothing more dangerous than a kid chock-full of testosterone with no concept of self-preservation. They got to work quickly, but they were right little assholes about it, sassing me and saluting August when he gave them orders. I could tell that didn’t sit right with him, and for a moment I thought maybe he was going to kick some teen ass, but he simply clamped his mouth shut so tightly I thought I heard his teeth squeak.
Two hours later, when he leaves to pick up Bettina from school and take her to her ballet classes, the boys wait long enough for August’s car to be a trail of dust in his wake, and then they turn to me with defiant glares and head for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Bite me, bitch,” Beau says.
Josiah hesitates, glaring at me before kicking over the can of paint he was using. He follows his friend out the front door. I race across the room to save the thick liquid spilling out all over the concrete. I’d planned to cover the floor anyway, but I don’t like wastage. It’d been drummed into me from the time I was a kid old enough to understand the word. That was when my daddy was still around, before he was killed by friendly fire. Before our lives turned to shit.
I right the can and look down at the mess. I don’t want to cry over a couple of dollars of spilled paint, and yet the tears spring into my eyes anyway, and I sit down hard beside the mess.
I have a half a mind to return the keys to the realtor, tell them to sell the shelter for whatever they can get, pack up my things, and head for Fairhope—for home—but my daddy never raised a quitter. I care about this town, even though its inhabitants have been less than welcoming. I care about August and Bettina Cotton, and I care about the veterans here who just need someone to reach out to them, so I get up, I dust myself off, and I get back to work.
At five p.m. Sheriff Webb shows up, and she is not impressed that our perps have vanished. I pity those boys because I barely know this woman, but already I know she doesn't make threats lightly, and she promises to return bright and early with our criminals—as in six a.m, early. I cringe internally. I have no desire to get up that early, but I don’t let her know that because unlike Josiah and Beau, I do not have a death wish.
After the sheriff leaves, I set off for Tanglewood as the sun dips lower in the sky. I’m daydreaming, and nearly run my bike off the road when I see a box moving up ahead on the shoulder near the State Park bridge. My heart sinks because I know what that means, and while it will never make sense to me how someone could dump puppies or kittens by the side of the road, I know what to expect once I open the lid. I climb off my bike and lay it down in the soft grass. A squeal full of fear and pain comes from inside the box. I open it, and the squeals grow louder. A tiny pink and black snout stares back at me. The piglet backs up against the cardboard to get away, almost tipping the thing over, which causes him to squeal even more. It’s evident he’s lame. One cloven hoof is swollen and bent at an unnatural angle.
Whoever dumped him deserves to rot in hell. It’s clear from the lack of mud and filth that he isn’t a farm animal, but likely a pet. There’s an old flannel blanket inside the box, but not much else. I pull the messy cloth from his jail cell and cover the piglet’s face as I lift it carefully and hold it close. He squeals and squirms in my arms, but I hold him tight.
“Shh, let’s get a good look at you,” I whisper in a calm even tone, despite my rage. “Shh, shh. You’re okay.”
Despite the injured hoof, the piglet burrows in against my chest, likely terrified that I’m going to put it back in the box. “It’s okay. I got you.”
I stumble over to the bike and transfer the animal’s weight into one hand so I can set him in the basket. He squeals, and I cover his eyes with the cloth.
“We’re just gonna take a little trip, okay?” I climb on the bike and ride as carefully as I can toward the center of town. I hope Jude was right about me bringing patients by at any time, because after punching Magnolia Springs Veterinary Clinic into the GPS on my phone, I make a beeline for his clinic on Pecan Grove Street. As I turn the corner into his drive, the piglet and I nearly come off the bike and go flying across the pavement because Jude is backing out and almost runs right over the top of us. I grab the pig and hold it close to my chest, abandoning the bike in the driveway behind his car. I slam my free hand down on the trunk. “Wait, wait, please wait.”
Jude scrambles out of the car dressed in a blazer, a blue button-up, and slacks with shiny black shoes polished to perfection. He’s a picture of old money meets new. His clothes are modern—designer. All the latest cuts, colors, and fabrics, but that stiff upper lip screams centuries of good breeding. I can tell my jaw is hanging open because … pretty. What is it about country men that’s just so damn attractive?
“Olivia, are you okay? I didn’t see you there,” he says.
“I … yeah. I’m fine.” The piglet struggles in my arms. “I found this little guy by the side of the road, dumped in a box.”
He sighs. “Wouldn’t be the first time sadly.” He strokes the pig, who hasn’t stopped wrestling in my arms since I picked him up. “Come on inside. Ruby has gone for the weekend, but if you wanna play nurse, we’ll take a look at her.”
Do I wanna play nurse? I swear, I blush from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair. “Sure.”
Jude leads the way, and I follow him into the building, which I’m assuming is an old homestead turned into a veterinary office. It’s painted in cool blues. The floors are covered with a light gray linoleum. There are portraits on the walls of cats and dogs melting in Dali fashion. It’s a little creepy, in an edgy way, so I guess it’s forgivable.
Jude wanders through the office, switching on lights as he goes before leading me to a little operating theatre at the back of the building. There are no Dali animals here, but stainless steel everywhere and surgical implements being sterilized in large metal trays filled with solution. This isn’t my first time in a veterinary clinic. I worked as a receptionist for a clinic when I was in community college. I thought that was what I wanted to do, until I realized that some of the animals that came in went home again in a disposals bag. I couldn’t deal with the pain, and I quit after my first month, deciding I needed to find another occupation in which I could help my animal friends.
Jude raises an eyebrow and indicates toward the examining table while he snaps on a pair of latex gloves. I set the piglet down, and it attempts to hobble away. It doesn’t get far. Jude holds it with a firm hand over its shoulder blades. “Okay, pretty girl, let’s have a look at you.”
“Girl?” I send him a puzzled expression, and he smiles and checks her rear.
“Girl.” He nods and gently lifts her tail. She bucks beneath the weight of his hand. “Right there is her urogenital papilla.” I lean over and look at the two small openings, feeling a little awkward checking out a pig’s butt.
“Shit,” he cusses as he feels her skin. His clear green eyes meet mine across the table.
I shake my head. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s pretty badly dehydrated, and the left anterior leg appears to be broken, but I can’t tell how bad it is without an X-ray.”
“Oh you poor darlin’,” I smooth my thumb over her forehead.
He takes the stethoscope from off the counter nearby and listens to her heart while he speaks. “I’m gonna need to sedate her and run a couple of tests, X-Rays, and then surgery. I could give her something for the pain and wait until morning, but with no one here to monitor her overnight, she could go into shock if the meds wear off.”
“I can stay here with her,” I say. “I mean, if you can’t do the surgery right away.”
Jude stares at me for a long moment. I glance away, unnerved by his scrutiny. “Didn’t you just find her by the side of the road?”
I shrug. “I don’t like to see animals suffer.”
“Well, Miss Anders, it’s your lucky day, because that makes two of us.” He smiles and places the scope around his neck. “Now, hold her tight for me, but don’t squash her. Try and keep her as still as possible.” I do as he asks and Jude pulls a needle from the drawer along with a small vial from the cabinet on the wall.
“I don’t care about the costs, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I wasn’t, actually,” he says. “I was just thinking I need to cancel my date for the evening, because another little lady needs me more.”
I frown, confused by his forwardness.
“The pig, Olivia.”
“Right, of course.” I give a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”
He sticks the needle into the vial, drawing out a small amount of the clear liquid, and squirts a little out the end to release any air bubbles. “Hold her still for me.”
I do as he asks and with a yelp, she takes her medicine in the ear. I pat her back the way you would to calm a newborn baby. “Good girl, shh. It’s okay.”
“Let’s lay her down. She’ll be feeling those effects pretty quickly,” he says, and I gently lay her on her side, keeping my body close to hers, so she doesn’t feel abandoned. Jude works his magic, and for the next half hour the pig’s X-rayed, intubated, hooked up to a drip, and given a full checkup under the anesthesia. Jude goes about all this as if it’s second nature, and I suppose to him it is.
“She’s going to make it, right?”
“I’d say she got lucky. It looks like she was in that box a long time in the blistering heat. If you hadn’t come along and found her, accosted the town veterinarian, and ruined his date, she’d likely be dead in a few hours.”
I roll my eyes. “I hardly accosted you.”
“You were two steps away from busting my window in.”
I chuckle, and after all the tumult of the past few days, it feels nice. “You’re right, I likely would have.”
“So, how’s that shelter coming along?” He hands me a fresh set of scrubs. They’re pink, a women’s size small, and I’ll likely be spilling out of them in every which direction, but I accept them gratefully because it’s better than ruining my own clothes.
I walk into the adjoining room to change. Once I have on the scrubs—that make me regret my little Oreo addiction—I realize that my bruises are far more obvious with the V-neck, so I keep the bandana tied around my throat. “Well, two angry teens decided to remodel for me, which puts me back about oh, let’s see, a month or two? Not to mention I’m now expected to work with the little bastards—that was Sheriff Webb’s way of ensuring I didn’t press charges, I guess. Anyway, the town still hates me, and I’m still no closer to gaining support for the program.”
He whistles under his breath as I exit the change room and clears his throat to cover the gaffe. “It’s a small town. They’ll get used to you.”
“I’m not so sure,” I say. “The people here are really unpleasant. If it weren’t for you and August, I likely would have turned tail and run by now.”
He gives me a puzzled expression. “Do we know the same August?”
“Come on now, he’s not that bad. A little intense, but he’s—”
“Dangerous is what he is,” he says, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “But you don’t need to worry about the people of Magnolia Springs, and I certainly hope you’ve got no intention of leaving. Paws for Cause has saved thousands of lives. Don’t be modest, and don’t listen to what those jackasses say.”
I blush because I’ve never gone to work a day in my life for the recognition, but it’s nice to be praised all the same. “How do you know so much about my program?”
“Are you kidding? I was on the cover of Southern Vet’s Life magazine two years in a row. I read those issues front to back, and Paws for Cause is always in it. I read your article; you weren’t a blond then, but I knew your face the second I saw you at that Fourth of July parade.”
“Yeah.” I point awkwardly to my hair. “The bombshell is new.”
“Oh, I didn’t say you weren’t a bombshell. I just said you weren’t blond.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Shouldn’t you be splinting something, or operating?”
“You’re right, I should.” He shakes his head and lets out an amused sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh. “Do you give your Marines this much trouble?”
“Only the ones with corny lines.”
“Oh, come on, a man’s gotta try. You’re surrounded by good ole country boys and big strapping soldiers with anger-management issues all day long. And I’m just a small-town veterinarian. I know how you girls fall for those big broken types.”
“Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I ain’t falling for nothing or no one,” I say, and I wish I felt as much conviction as I spoke with, but I am a big fat liar.
“But you will be my sexy nurse, right?” He winks.
“Oh my God, would you just fix my pig already, please?” I grin, patting the pig’s head, and rub one leathery ear between my fingers. The other has the cannula with the drip in it.
For the next hour, I watch on with squeamish fascination as Jude fuses her tiny bones back together with even smaller metal plates and screws. I pass the instruments after he points them out to me, and he talks as carefree and easy, as if we were on a date, about everything, from what he’s doing at that moment to why he wanted to become a vet in the first place and how he ended up leaving Atlanta for here. He ceases talk altogether when he stitches her up, and then he removes her from the oxygen, carefully lifting her and carrying her to a crate where he lays her on the soft blankets. There’s a dish of water nearby. Her snout wriggles, but she doesn’t wake. She is just the most precious thing I’ve ever seen, and I share a house with the world’s most adorable four-year-old, so that’s saying something.
Jude straightens and leans up against the crate. “You wanna sit with her?”
“Is that okay?”
“Well, we don’t have any animals in recovery right now. I was planning on sitting here anyway. You hungry? Everything else in town is closed, but I can rustle us up some TV dinners from the freezer.”
“Wow, you really go all out, huh?” I sit down beside the crate.
“Hey, I just saved your pig, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. Thank you.” I stroke her head gently and shake my own in disbelief. “I can’t believe I have a pig. I’ve already got a dog at home.”
“Here, in Magnolia Springs?”
“Oh no. I meant back in Fairhope.”
He frowns. “You still staying with August Cotton?”
“And Bettina, yeah. I booked the room before their parents passed and I’ve been looking for a rental ever since, but apparently, there’s nothing in town. I don’t know how true that is, given that Kathy Abernathy and her good friend Georgia don’t like me much.”
Jude pauses for a beat, and it seems as if he’s mulling over his next words. “I have a cabin out by Tanglewood Road that’s unoccupied if you want to use it?”
I side-eye him. I can’t stay in this man’s cabin. I barely know him. I mean, I didn’t know August either, but Tanglewood is different. It’s … well, it just doesn’t feel right. And who’s going to make sure the Cottons aren’t eating frozen pizza every night? “I can’t do that. Besides, you don’t know the first thing about me. What if I’m a crook or a serial killer?”
“Do you know the man you’re living with?” he says, and it feels very much like a loaded question. “Besides, any woman who runs a non-profit that helps wounded veterans and rescues dogs from kill shelters, and piglets from cardboard boxes, I might add, is no serial killer.”
“Okay, good point.”
He smirks. “Plus, you have that sweet and innocent baby face.”
My eyes grow round. “I am not baby-faced.”
“Sure you’re not,” he says, and that freaking grin is back, doing things to my insides it has no right to be doing. “Anyway, you should think about moving out of Tanglewood.”
“Lord, you two really hate one another, don’t you?” I grin. “What, did he steal your position as quarterback?”
“We have . . . history,” Jude says, and then elaborates at my baffled expression. “I spent summers here as a kid; it’s why I have the cabin in the woods. And let’s just say August Cotton was an asshole long before he ever came back from war a wounded veteran.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling more and more uneasy by the second. August can be difficult, I’ll give him that much, but anyone smart enough to look further knows he has a heart of gold, he just keeps it locked firmly up tight behind a wall of iron thorns. “Well, the man can sometimes be pretty tough to take, but I think that’s understandable given what he’s been through.”
“He in that program of yours?”
I laugh. “No, August is one of those special cases. He’s happier to suffer in silence.”
“And what about you? Do you date men who aren’t wounded veterans?”
“Only if they fix my pig for free.” I wink. I don’t know why I’m flirting back. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s actually fun, and it’s been a long time since I had fun.
“You may just send me bankrupt.”
“Oh please,” I say, shooting him a knowing look. “I saw your face when I brought her in. You would have fixed her no matter what it cost you.”
“Yeah. I’m a sucker for damsels in distress.”
I roll my eyes. “And it’s been a while since anyone asked, but I don’t date the men in my program.”
He raises a brow, looking hopeful. “The women, then?”
I chuckle. “No, Doc. I don’t date the women either. I don’t have time for dating.”
“Yeah, me either.” He leans his head back against the wall with an exasperated sigh.
“Weren’t you just running off to a hot date before you almost backed over Betty and me?”
“Betty?”
I shrug and stroke the piglet’s head, gently tracing her spotted black markings. “It seems like a good fit. She’s a total Betty.”
“That she is,” he murmurs, his eyes firmly fixed on me. Somehow, I don’t think we’re talking about my new pet pig anymore. “But I think it was you who ran into me.”
“Oh right, with my pushbike,” I say, matter-of-factly. “I can see how that would do a lot of damage.”
“Tell you what,” Jude says, toying with the stethoscope around his neck. “I won’t charge you for damages if you agree to have a real dinner with me.”
By the time I left the clinic, it was well after midnight. Jude offered to drive me home, but his sports car lacked any kind of tow bar, and leaving my bike there was out of the question. I’d told him I’d return at the end of the next day with two replacement TV dinners and time to check on my pig. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d even had a damn bounce in my step.
I park the bike in the shed at Tanglewood and creep up the front porch steps as quietly as I can. August and Bettina are asleep on the couch in the front room, as if they’ve been waiting up for me, and the guilt about eats me alive. I watch them for a beat and cover her small body over with a knitted blanket from the back of the couch. She doesn’t stir, but when I straighten, August’s eyes are on me, and he is not a happy camper.
“Where the hell were you?” he snaps quietly. “We called. We went to the shelter looking for you. I even went to the damn sheriff’s office because I was worried the boys had done something stupid.”
I’m taken aback by the malevolence in his tone. “My phone died, or else I would have called. I’m sorry I worried you, but I found a stray.”
“What?” He shakes his head in disbelief and gets to his feet.
“I found a pig, a piglet really, in a box by the side of the road. Her foot was broken, and she was in pretty bad shape, so I took her to the vet.”
“Course you did.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I whisper-yell, so as not to wake Bettina. “Did you forget what I do? I save animals. Granted, this is my first pig, but was I supposed to just leave her there?”
“Right, you save things. That’s your schtick, isn’t it?” He stalks out of the room and down the hall toward the staircase. I follow on his heels. “Course it don’t hurt that the vet looks like Jude du Pont, now does it? Why, I bet you just had to stay all night and make sure the pig was okay.”
“Actually, I assisted him in surgery, which was hours, and then we monitored her to make sure she was going to pull through, since his nurse is away for the weekend.”
“He’s still using that one, huh?”
“Oh God, August.” I shake my head. “You know, he told me you two had history. I don’t know why you care where I spent my night … but I’m a grown woman, and you’re not responsible for me.”
August reels back as if I just slapped him. “You’re right. Here I was thinkin’ you were in some kinda trouble. Didn’t realize you were into screwing the town player, but I pegged you as smarter than that. I’m sorry I overestimated you.”
“Hold up a goddamned second, I did not screw Doc—”
“Doc?” He whistles. “You do work fast. You’ve been here for what, five minutes, and already you got cozy enough with the vet to give each other nicknames?”
“You’re jealous? Is that it?” I question. “See, it’s kind of hard to tell, what with how fucking bipolar you are.”
“Huh. That’s rich.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you come on awfully strong for a woman who’s too afraid to take the leap. What’s the matter, princess? You can fix ’em, but they ain’t good enough to fool around with?”
“Jesus, August, you’re so dumb you could throw yourself on the ground and still miss,” I snap. “You’re hot one minute and freezing the next, but even with all of this tension between us, I’m starting to think that maybe you’re just not interested.”
His face twists with anger, and then what looks like confusion.
“Yeah, ya big idiot, I’m attracted to you.”
“Why?”
It’s my turn to blink in surprise. I know August doesn’t think too highly of himself, but is he freaking crazy? I feel as if I’m on glue here.
I can’t do this. I shouldn’t want this, but I do. I don’t care that it’s breaking my number-one rule. I want him. I’ve wanted him since the day I laid eyes on his stubborn ass. But I don’t think August knows what he wants.
Mortified that I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, I turn, but August grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him.
“Olivia.” He wets his lips, and it’s as if he isn’t sure whether to push me away or pull me closer. That makes two of us.
He eliminates the distance between us. His free hand snakes around my waist and pulls me up against his hard body, but he doesn’t lean in, not even when I reach up on my tiptoes. It feels as if I’m waiting on the edge of a precipice, afraid that I’ll fall and terrified that I won’t.
“Kiss me, August.”
He exhales and presses a kiss to the top of my hair. His arms tighten, and he whispers, “I can’t.”
The whole world comes crashing down around me. I glare at him and pull free of his grasp, willing away the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes.
“Wivvie?” Bettina’s sleepy voice both startles me and melts my heart. She’s standing at the end of the hall, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fists and squinting against the harsh overhead light. “You’re hwome.”
I hold August’s gaze a beat longer, crushed by his rejection, yet too stubborn to give him more than that one moment of weakness. Bettina stumbles forward and wraps her arms around my legs, nuzzling into me. I smooth her hair down and bend to gently squeeze her shoulders. “Hey, pretty girl. It’s time for bed, yeah?”
“Wivvie, will you wead me?”
“Oh honey, not tonight,” I say in as cheerful a voice as I can muster. “Livvie’s kinda tired.”
“You can come sleep in the pwincess bed with me.”
“That’s okay, sweetpea.”
“Are you weally a pwincess?”
I smile sadly and blink back traitorous tears. “No, honey.”
“Then why does Auggie cwall you that?”
“Because August likes to tease,” I say before I can stop myself. I shut my eyes and slowly open them, daring a glance at him. His gaze is hard and unforgiving, his jaw clenched tightly closed. I sweep Bettina up in my arms and decide I’ll tuck her in. If I’m using her as a shield, he can’t get mad at me. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
He doesn’t say a word when I carry his sister up the stairs and tuck her in, and he isn’t in his room when I walk past on my way out. I brush my teeth and take off my makeup, and then I turn out the light and cross the hall to my room. I lift my shirt over my head and kick the door with my foot, but I hit something solid and unyielding. I rip the T-shirt off, and an arm wraps around my waist and pushes me up against the dresser. The breath catches in the back of my throat, and I stare up at a livid August.
“A tease, am I?” He leans in and whispers, “I am not a fucking tease. If you’d known me before . . . well, I woulda rocked your world, darlin’.”
“Then show me now,” I say breathlessly, my voice wanton and desperate. “Why won’t you kiss me? Why won’t you touch me?”
“Because I can’t.”
“Why?” I demand, done with this whole darn thing.
“Because I don’t deserve to be loved, Liv.”
He’s so wrong about that. So wrong. I can’t make him kiss me, but I can kiss him.
I reach up and smash my lips against his, nipping at him, kissing him hard until he opens his mouth and lets me inside. One hand tightens on my waist, and the other cups my cheek. He opens to me and kisses me back so ferociously that I don’t doubt the truth of his promises to rock my world. His tongue caresses mine, and I moan. His hands are desperate on my flesh, tugging me closer, as they cover every inch of my skin beneath his palm. I whimper, guiding his hand to my breast and the La Perla bra.
“No!” August pulls away as if my touch burned him.
“Why?”
“I can’t,” he says, kissing my temple. “I can’t do this.”
“I know you want me, August. I can see it on your face; I can feel it,” I say tilting my head toward the bulge in his pants. God, it’s as if we’re moving in circles, endlessly chasing our tails. “Why won’t you—”
“Because I don’t deserve you, Liv.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve done things that would horrify you,” he whispers into my hair, as he cups my face. “And I won’t let you give yourself over to a monster.”
“August—”
“I lost my leg, my dog, my parents . . .” he laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “But I deserved to lose so much more than that.”
He backs up a step, and I realize this is the first time he’s ever discussed his leg with me. The psychologist in me understands he’s made a huge breakthrough here tonight, but the woman in me despairs. Because she’s heartbroken. I have feelings for August beyond wanting to junk-punch him for being an asshole, and he might even feel the same about me, but he won’t let himself give in because he believes he isn’t worthy of anyone. What a lonely and tragic existence. To always be fighting a war in your head. To never know the touch of another human being because you went to battle for your country and became something, someone, you don’t like.
I reach up and touch his cheek. “August, please?”
He doesn’t say another word, just removes my hand from his face and walks out, slamming the door between us. I sink to the floor, close my eyes and bite my lip to keep from crying. I am a mess of a woman right now, and no matter how I try, I always seem to wind up curled into a fetal position when he leaves. I’m in way over my head with this man. It’s as if we got on a rollercoaster the day I arrived on his doorstep, and try as I might, I can’t make it stop. I have no idea how to get off.