A Precious Christmas Gift, page 19
“Typical for Oklahoma,” Jena said. At the front door, she turned the sign to Closed and flipped off the lights. “Always changing.”
Tucker grabbed the casserole dish and followed her as she set the alarm and stepped outside. The streets of downtown Rebel were quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Overhead, the blue sky had created a backdrop behind the tall and barren redbud and maple trees that lined Rebel Avenue.
When another breeze whipped past, Jena shivered. “Brr.” She tucked her hands into her pockets.
“You need a proper hat. That short pixie haircut leaves your ears without coverage.”
She looked up at him, taking in his six-foot-two height. “Is it colder up there in the higher elevations?”
“Funny.”
“For the record, I have plenty of hats,” Jena said. “I’m just in denial that winter is on its way, which means Thanksgiving and Christmas will be here before we know it.” She chuckled and turned toward Rebel Rescue next door.
“Aren’t you going home?” he asked.
“I want to check in with my furry guests first.”
“Okay, but don’t forget to go home. You lose track of time when you go through that door.”
“Five minutes,” she said.
“Uh-huh. That’s what you always say.”
Jena couldn’t help but smile. Tucker was right. She loved the rescue, possibly more than the clinic. Maybe it was because these animals needed her, really needed her. There was a therapy session to be had in that admission. Jena knew it and didn’t for a minute deny the fact.
Like most of the animals in the clinic, Jena, too, had been abandoned. She’d been cast off by her parents and then taken in as a pregnant fifteen-year-old by her great-aunt, a widowed pastor’s wife who understood God’s mercy and grace far better than her now-estranged parents ever would.
She pushed open the door and stepped in. The air smelled of disinfectant from the day’s last cleanup, completed by her staff of volunteers.
She greeted the matronly woman at the front desk. “Hi, Mabel. You’re still here?”
“I was hoping to find a foster home for this feller before I left for the day.”
Jena peeked behind the desk where a pup sat patiently. He cocked his head, his expression hopeful as he stared up at her. Floppy ears framed a light molasses face with white patches along the jawline. The furry body was mostly the same light brown with a white underbelly.
“What a sweet puppy,” Jena said.
“Puppy? He’s awfully big for a puppy, isn’t he? Look at those paws.”
Jena knelt down and offered her hand. The pup sniffed her, tail wagging furiously. “Not necessarily. Depends on which of his many relatives he’s going to take after.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we’re looking at a shepherd, golden, sheltie mix.” She stared at the dog once more. “That’s my guess.”
“Is that the same as a mutt?”
“Shh. We don’t want to offend.” Jena gently assessed the animal’s abdomen and extremities for injuries. “Appears to be in good shape. Can you hand me a reader, please?”
Mabel opened the drawer of the reception desk and pulled out a microchip scanner.
Jena wanded the animal and shook her head. “None, but not everyone microchips. We’ll ask around and hopefully reunite this little girl with her owner.”
“A girl! And you think she’s lost?”
“Or dumped in Rebel.” Jena sighed and stood up. “Who knows?”
She stared at the dog for a moment. Her eyes were so trusting. You could see into an animal’s soul when you took time to look in their eyes. This one’s gaze said, “I’ll love you forever.” Jena’s heart ached because she knew that it was absolutely true. She rubbed the sweet spot behind the dog’s ears. When the pup leaned against her, she knew she was in trouble.
Mabel glanced at the wall clock. “We’re full up, Dr. Harper, and so are our foster homes.”
A full house was both good and not so good. Great to be able to help so many animals, but it was definitely time to find furr-ever homes for each guest.
“Are there any problems that I need to check on before I leave?” she asked Mabel.
“No. Things are quiet. Pilar did rounds before she left for the day.”
“Great.”
“What am I going to do about this girl?” Mabel gestured toward the pup.
“Oh, Ernestine is going home with me.” Jena didn’t even think twice.
“Ernestine?”
“Doesn’t that sound like a great name? I had a great-aunt Ernestine. I think it fits.”
“You’re so kindhearted, Dr. Harper.”
“Have a good rest of your weekend, Mabel.”
Mabel handed Jena a red leash and turned to the pup. “You don’t know how blessed you are, young lady.”
Blessed? Jena smiled at the comment. With all of her rescues, the animals gave much, much more than they received. Each and every one had rescued her. Yes, she was the one who was blessed.
Jena hooked the leash on the pup and headed out. “Come on, Ernie, let’s go home.”
* * *
Tucker’s truck idled at a red light in the middle of downtown Rebel on Tuesday evening as he practiced delivering news that his partner wasn’t going to want to hear.
“So, Jena, a funny thing happened at the conference.” She had a good sense of humor, but this was no laughing matter.
First, he’d tell her how much working with her has meant to him. That was the truth. They were approaching seven years at the clinic, and then there was college before that.
Which was why he knew that once he explained that a prestigious Texas university had offered him a teaching position along with a list of perks to sweeten the pot, Jena would get it.
She’d be happy for him. If the situation was reversed, he’d be happy for her, too. Plenty happy. Jena had always been there for him, and he wanted only the best for his closest friend.
Hypocrite.
The unbidden thought ran through his mind. The truth was, he’d be happy for her and devastated that they were breaking up a great partnership.
He released a breath of frustration.
The timing was all kinds of lousy, too. She was already upset about Charlie’s letter, and now he would deliver news that would absolutely derail life as she knew it.
Jena didn’t talk about her past much, but there was one thing he was certain of. She liked change about as much as he did—or had.
Something had happened when the door to leaving Rebel opened in Texas. It was like a life preserver had been tossed his way. No one understood better than he did what it was like to walk through life with one foot in the past and one in the present. It wasn’t working. He wasn’t getting anywhere. It was time to move past his wife’s death and slip out from beneath his brothers’ thumbs. He prayed that Texas was the solution.
When the light turned green, a flash of red darted into his peripheral vision. Someone was running down the sidewalk of Main Street chasing a dog.
Whoa. It was Jena in her red wool coat.
Boy, she was fast. The animal was going at a good clip, too. A red leash waved in the air behind the little dog who appeared to be enjoying the chase.
Tucker drove around the block to First Street, pulled the truck over to the curb and got out, remaining hidden behind the front bumper. The dog was headed right for him, and when it neared, Tucker stepped out and grabbed the animal.
They both went down.
Tucker lay flat on his back on the sidewalk with a mass of golden, brown and white fur on his chest. The pup stared at him with big brown eyes. Then a pink tongue licked Tucker’s face.
“Ugh, doggie halitosis.”
A moment later, an out-of-breath Jena hovered over him. “Tucker, what are you doing here?”
“Laying on the sidewalk, apparently.”
“Are you okay?” she panted.
“I’ll live. Whose dog?”
“Ernie? Mine. Temporarily. The rescue is full.”
Tucker rolled to his feet and handed Jena the leash. He brushed off his jeans. “It’s possible Ernie needs obedience training.”
“You think?”
“Yeah, I do. Throw in some dental hygiene while you’re at it.”
“Noted. Though in my defense, I haven’t had time for a full exam. I’ve been a little busy since you’ve been gone.” She looked up at Tucker and pointed toward his head. “You have a leaf in your hair.”
He tunneled his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Okay?”
“Yes.” Her brown eyes crinkled with amusement. “I imagine you have a lump back there, too?”
“Naw, I landed posterior first and then we went down.” He glanced at the dog. “Part golden?”
“And then some.”
He nodded. “Lots of energy, too.”
“That’s an understatement. I thought I’d get an evening walk in. We’ve been running for three blocks.”
“Is he from the rescue?”
“She. And the rescue is full. Ernie is my houseguest.”
“You named him... I mean her, Ernie?”
“Short for Ernestine.” Jena grinned. “After my late great-aunt.”
“Ah. I see the resemblance.”
She laughed, and the sound made him relax for a moment. “So, it looks like we need to find homes for your buddies, if the rescue is full,” he said.
Jena’s smile widened. She was clearly in good spirits. “Unless your family will take a few more.”
“No way. The Rainbolts are bursting at the seams with rescue animals. Rebel Ranch took a cow and a goat. Daisy took that bonded pair of kittens. We gave Mitch a blind cat and an aged mutt. Even Reece took a cat, and I hear about that daily.”
“Then it’s time for an adoption event.”
“I’ll bring the girls. It’ll be fun.”
“Yes, it will be. I’ll see if the community center will let us use their lobby again, then put an ad in The Weekly Rebel.” She pulled out her phone. “A week from next Saturday?”
“Great.” Except he had a feeling things were about to nosedive from great real quick.
“Oh, and Charlie will call us Friday,” Jena said. “I checked your schedule and we’re both free at lunch. It’s pizza day, so that works out perfectly.”
Pizza day. They bought pizza for the staff on Fridays and held an informal staff meeting to keep morale lifted and address concerns. He would miss pizza day if he left Rebel.
“When did you get back in town?” she asked.
“Just landed, and I was headed to your house.”
“Oh?” She paused and cocked her head, really looking at him beneath the glow of the streetlamp. “Are you all right? You seem kind of...I don’t know...off.”
“Jet lag.”
“It’s a one-hour flight in the same time zone. You can’t get jet lag in the same time zone.”
“No?” He shrugged. “I don’t sleep well in hotels, and I’ve got lots on my mind.”
Jena chuckled. “I bet you texted the nanny every few hours checking on the twins.”
“You got me.” He glanced at his watch, becoming antsy under her cheerful scrutiny. “Speaking of the nanny, I’ve got to relieve her soon. Do you have time to chat? I have something I want to discuss.”
“Sure. Absolutely.”
“Do you want a ride?” he asked.
“We’ll walk.” She grinned. “I mean run.”
Hands in his jacket pocket, he turned to his truck.
“Hey, Tucker.”
He turned. “Yeah?”
Jena grinned. “Great to have you back.”
“Thanks,” he murmured as another dagger of guilt pricked him.
For a few moments he sat in his truck, once again working up the courage for what he had to do. He took a deep breath and put the keys in the ignition, praying for guidance at the same time.
Tucker’s steps up the cobblestone walk to the cozy house seemed leaden. Forcing himself to think about anything but Jena, his gaze assessed her home. The one-story brick colonial was framed with climbing ivy, now more brown than green since the recent frost. In the front of the house, coral pots waited for spring, when they’d be filled to overflowing with blooms.
His big brother, Mitch, had done a lot of work on the house before he got married and sold the place to Jena. Therapy, he’d called it, and Tucker well understood. He’d done a lot of hands-on therapy himself.
He knocked on the door.
“It’s open.”
Although Jena shared her home with four cats and now a dog, the place smelled like vanilla and coffee beans, not animals. His gaze spanned the entrance and living room, noting that the place was tidier than his house, and he had a housekeeper. No layers of cat hair on the oak furniture, and the oversize moss-green corduroy fabric couch was stain-free. More than he could say for his own couch.
“What are you looking for?” she asked when she appeared in the living room.
“I’m not sure. Maybe the tiny robots who keep your house so clean.”
Jena laughed. “I do have one of those robot floor-cleaner thingies.”
Tucker nodded and glanced around once more. “They’re doing a great job. Nice place.”
“Haven’t you been here before?”
“Yeah, when Mitch was in residence, but not since you moved in.”
“I thought about a housewarming party,” she said, leading him to the kitchen. “But I don’t really do people stuff, as you well know.”
“I do.” He glanced around again. “Where are your animals?”
“Ernie is in the yard and the cats are in their room watching a squirrel video.”
He blinked. “They have a room?”
“They do.”
Sure they did, and really, why not? Animals came first in Jena’s life. He knew that.
“Coffee?” she asked.
Tucker raised a hand. “I’m good.”
“Have a cookie.” She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed him one before placing a plate of perfectly formed chocolate chip cookies in front of him.
Tucker waited until she settled in a chair at the cozy circular kitchen table with its patchwork-design tablecloth before he sat down. Maybe if he pretended this was just a friendly social visit it wouldn’t be so hard.
He grimaced. Right now he didn’t feel much like a friend. After all, he was the one who’d practically begged Jena to come to Rebel to start the practice. Later, it was Jena who had held things together at the clinic while he walked through a thick fog of grief. Now he was going to abandon her.
“How was the conference?” Jena asked.
“Great. Really great.” Tucker shook his head. How many times was he going to say the word great? Unscrewing the lid of the bottle, he downed a long swig. It failed to help his cottonmouth.
“So, what did you want to discuss?” She leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“How’s everything at the clinic?” he countered.
“Same old.” She inched the dish to her side of the table and carefully selected a cookie—the one with the most chips, he knew from past experience. Biting into it, she met his gaze. “Come on. Spill. What’s up?”
“South Texas University offered me a teaching position.” The words shot out of his mouth without preamble.
Jena gasped and then began to cough, jumping to her feet.
Tucker stood, nearly knocking his chair over, as his heart banged against his ribs. He opened her water bottle and shoved it in front of her. “You okay?”
With one hand on her chest and the other waving at him to keep his distance, Jena nodded and continued coughing, her face red with the effort and her eyes watering. With a final gasp, she reached for the water.
“Oh, my,” she breathed. After another guzzle of the liquid, she sat down and wiped her eyes with her fingers.
Assured that she would be okay, Tucker sat down, too.
She looked at him. “I thought you went to a conference.”
“I did.”
Jena paled. “Who wants you to apply where?”
“South Texas University. They want me to teach full-time at the School of Veterinary Medicine.”
Jena’s jaw dropped. She was silent for a very long moment. Long enough to be a little scary.
“Teach what?” She narrowed her gaze. “Aren’t you a little young for wool blazers and bow ties?”
“I’m as surprised as you. The emphasis in the program they want me for is rural equine veterinary medicine.” He raised a palm. “Apparently, it’s a big deal now.”
Tucker half expected a joke about the long-standing football rivalry, but Jena wasn’t smiling. Silence raged on as she stared at him. The only sound was the tail on the silly black cat wall clock swishing back and forth as the seconds passed.
“You said yes.” Her words were barely a whisper.
“I said I’d think about it. And I am. Thinking and praying.”
“What about our practice? The clinics and the rescue.” Her eyes rounded, and she swallowed. “The animals?”
“I didn’t say yes.”
She blinked slowly, and once again was silent.
The silence stretched until he couldn’t take it. “Jena?”
“When do they want an answer?” She met his eyes, and he flinched at the pain and confusion he saw in the brown depths, knowing he was responsible.
“As soon as possible, but they’ll hold the position until January first. If I accept, they’ll fly me down and move us into temporary housing.”
“Wow, that fast?”
“The semester starts again in the middle of January. I have to set up childcare and prepare a curriculum and well... It’s a big move.”
“It’s huge.” She attempted a smile and failed.
