your luck by sneaking up on me like that again. I wanted a brother, you know.”
“And I wanted a puppy. Maybe I should have been the veterinarian in the family instead of you.”
Kara reached out and gave her sister a hug. “I'm glad we're related. You're very special to me. I don't know what I'd have done without you, after—”
“Hey, no sweat. I like working here.” Susan hugged her tight, then stepped away. “Which reminds me. I finished all the billing. I figured I'd stop by the post office on my way home and mail everything. Want to come to dinner tonight?”
Kara wasn't fooled by her sister's overly casual manner. She knew Susan had purposely changed the subject for her benefit, to get her mind off her supposed loss. If only she knew. If only someone did.
Kara felt like a fraud every time she accepted an expression of sympathy. In truth, she was a lot less sorrowful than she should be about losing Alex, and her secret awareness of that fact left her feeling decidedly uncomfortable, especially at times like these.
“Well?”
Susan's voice drew Kara back to the present. “Um, no, thanks. I still have a lot to do here.”
“Like what? Count pills? Roll bandages? Mop the floor?”
Kara chuckled. “Mop? When I have a hired slave like you to do it for me?”
“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in. You always were a pain.”
“Isn't that what little sisters are for?”
“Maybe. If I ever manage to get pregnant and have a girl, I'll know if the problem was all little girls or just you.”
“If your baby's half as nice as you and Mark are, she'll be perfect. Now go on home and leave me in peace.” Kara put her hands on Susan's shoulders, turned her and urged her out the exam room door.
Susan led the way down the hall. “You really aren't coming to dinner?”
“Nope. If I keep you from having any time alone with that handsome husband of yours I'll never be an aunt. Besides, I've had dinner with you three times this week already.”
“You're avoiding the ranch, aren't you? You just don't want to run into Tyler Corbett.”
They had reached the deserted waiting room. Kara unlocked the heavy glass front door and held it open for her sister. “He doesn't scare me.”
“Oh, no. You just hate each other's guts, that's all.”
Kara frowned. “I don't hate anybody.” She paused, sighed. “Not anymore.”
Waving the bundle of outgoing bills, Susan said, “I'm sending him another notice.”
“I told you not to do that. Mark's job as his foreman is more important than collecting on a bad debt.”
Susan shook her head. “Look, Kara, if Corbett fires Mark because of a bill from you…which he owes, by the way…then he's a bigger fool than I thought. Trust me. I've gotten to know the man since we moved into the house on the ranch. I'm sure he's not vindictive.”
“Humph. I wish I could agree with you. The last time I saw him he avoided me like I was his worst enemy.”
“Hey, that sounds like an answer to a prayer to me,” Susan said. “You didn't want to get stuck making polite conversation with him, did you?”
As always, her sister was the voice of reason. Kara patted her on the shoulder. “No, I guess not. Thanks for reminding me who's in charge of my life. I tend to get caught up in other things and forget.”
“You'll be back on track soon, now that you've started going to church again,” Susan assured her. “You'll see.”
“I suppose so.” She brushed a goodbye kiss on her cheek. “Now get going. I don't want Mark thinking I work you too hard.”
“Right. I'll stop by your place and feed your animals for you. See you in the morning.” As she climbed into her car she called back, “And don't forget to eat dinner!”
“I have a brownie in my desk drawer if I get desperate,” Kara shouted, waving. “I'll be fine.”
Watching her sister drive away, Kara locked the door and leaned against it for a few moments, thinking. Remembering. It had felt right to be back in the church in Hardy again after nearly two years' absence. The congregation had been wonderful. They'd welcomed her with open arms, accepting her as if she'd never been gone.
Kara made a derisive sound. Well, most of them had. The lone dissenter had been Tyler Corbett. They'd both been on their way out of the sanctuary one recent Sunday morning and their glances had met by accident. The brief, intense look he'd given her before turning away could have wilted the beautiful flower arrangement in front of the altar!
Working was Kara's favorite diversion. She often stayed long after the veterinary hospital closed, using her job as an excuse to escape the memories that still lingered in her house. The house she and Alex had shared. As his widow she didn't need all the room the old farm in Peace Valley provided but the place was paid for, so she'd stayed. Truth to tell, until she got her practice back on a more solid financial footing, she couldn't afford to move.
She had briefly considered hiring another large-animal vet to replace Alex, while she continued seeing the dogs, cats and assorted other smaller critters, as before. Then her flighty receptionist had quit and she'd had all she could handle to keep up with the office work, until Susan had arrived in Arkansas and volunteered to step into the job. After that, it had seemed to Kara that the practice was just as it should be and she'd abandoned the idea of adding anyone else to the staff.
She sighed. Looking back, it was easy to see that the Lord had been with her, even in the worst days of her marriage. And He was still looking after her.
“Thank you for everything, Father. Especially for sending Susan,” she whispered.
Looking up at the darkening sky through the window opposite her desk, Kara noted gray clouds across the horizon. Evening storms were common in that part of the Ozarks, especially in the spring, but they could be frightening to some of her overnight patients. The dogs and cats were already anxious because they were separated from their owners. Thunder and lightning only made things worse.
“And thank you, Lord, that I'm still here tonight,” she added, heading for the kennel area. A few kind words or even a mild tranquilizer would make the poor animals' night much easier.
She was petting a mongrel with a broken leg when she heard an echoing thud. Assuming it was the beginnings of thunder, she ignored the noise. Then it came again. Louder this time and accompanied by shouting. Male shouting.
Pausing, she listened. The dogs in the kennel runs had begun to bark but she could still make out a few words. Whoever the man was, he had a pretty colorful vocabulary.
Following the sound of the pounding, Kara stopped at the rear door. It was solid wood, not like the glassed-in front of the animal hospital, so she couldn't see who was making all the racket. Unwilling to unlock the door since she was there alone, she called out, “Who is it?”
“Open
