give you minty-fresh breath and whiter teeth.”
“We can all use that,” she murmured.
He changed gloves and got busy with the cleansing and suturing. Many animals had skin that was more delicate than humans. He chose 3-0 nylon with a skin-cutting needle, standard equine external suture material.
He put on a pair of magnifying glasses and angled a task light at the site, working with as much delicate precision as he could to avoid a zipperlike scar on her pale, delicate skin. He felt her starting to tremble again and wondered if he should be making small talk to ease her nerves a little and, please God, make her hold still. With his regular patients, a few sympathetic clucks usually did the trick.
“I didn’t get your name,” he said.
“It’s Sophie. Sophie Bellamy.”
“Any relation to the Bellamys that have the resort up at the north end of the lake?”
“Sort of. I was married to Greg Bellamy. We’re divorced now.”
But she still used the guy’s name, Noah observed.
“I’ve got two kids here in Avalon,” she continued.
That probably explained the name, then. What it didn’t explain was why the kids didn’t live with her. Noah reminded himself that it was none of his business. People were complicated, with a mind-boggling array of emotions and issues. Nothing was simple with this species. He found working with animals to be much more straightforward. Dealing with humans was like crossing a minefield. You never knew when something might blow up in your face.
Small talk, he thought. Distract her with small talk. “So are you here for a visit? Or just getting back from a trip?”
She paused, as though considering what to say, which was odd, since it was not a challenging question. She said, “I landed at JFK this afternoon. There were no commuter flights to Kingston-Ulster Airport because of the weather, so I rented a car and drove up. I suppose I could’ve taken the train, but I was just so anxious to get here.”
Landed at JFK from where? He didn’t ask, expecting her to fill him in. When she didn’t, he focused on his task. Human skin was remarkably similar to canine or equine, he noted. “And you’re staying with the Wilsons across the road?” he prompted.
“Not exactly. I’m using their house. It’s a summer place. Alberta—Bertie—Wilson and I have known each other since law school.”
“Oh.” His hands stilled. “You’re a lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“A real lawyer?”
“Okay, I deserved that,” she said.
“You couldn’t have told me this before I stitched you up with equine sutures?”
“Would you have treated me any differently?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I might not have treated you at all. Or I might have asked you to sign a treatment waiver.”
“That’s never stopped a good lawyer.” She quickly added, “But you don’t have a thing to worry about. You rescued me and made the bleeding stop. The last thing in the world I’d do is sue you.”
“Good to know.” Noah removed the surgical draping from her leg and gave the wound a final washing with povidone iodine topical solution. “Although you should probably take a look. It’s not real pretty.”
She braced her hands behind her and sat up. The stitching formed a thin black curve in her pale flesh, now painted amber with the disinfectant. “You stopped the bleeding,” she said again.
“It appears so.” He laid a gauze patch over the wound. “I have to bandage this. You’ll need to be careful, not mess with the stitches or let them pull. If you were one of my usual patients, I’d fit you with a lamp-shade collar to keep you from chewing at the bandage.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“You need to keep this area dry if possible.”
“I think I can handle that.” She held still while he finished bandaging her. He checked her blood pressure a second time. He studied the meter. “No change,” he said. “That’s good.”
“Thank you. Really, I can’t thank you enough.”
He held both her hands as she gingerly let herself down off the table. She swayed a little, and he slipped his arm around her. “Easy now,” he said. “You’re going to need to keep that leg elevated as much as possible tonight.”
“All right.”
The shock of holding her in his arms struck him. His chin brushed over her silky hair. She smelled like crisp winter wind, and she felt both soft and light.
She seemed equally startled by his touch, and a small shudder went through her. Fear? Relief? He couldn’t tell. Then, very gently, she extracted herself from his arms. He led the way to the reception area. Mildred’s workstation was as meticulously neat as his assistant herself was. Noah’s desk was cluttered with journals and reference books, toys and little figurines, cards from patients’ owners. There was a small bulletin board entirely devoted to notes from kids and photos of them with their pets. Noah was a complete sucker for kids.
“Thank you again,” she said. “You need to let me know what I owe you.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I never kid. You performed a professional service. You’re entitled to charge for that.”
“Right.” Spoken like a true lawyer. If he’d performed the same procedure on a Doberman, he would’ve charged a few hundred bucks. “It’s on the house. You should be seen by a doctor as soon as possible.”
“Well. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty,” she said. “My hero.”
He still detected a subtle vibrato of fear in her voice, so he suspected she was just trying to show him some bravado—or irony. “No one’s ever called me that before.”
“I bet some of your patients would if they could talk.” She looked away, and he was glad to see a bit of color in her face. And damn, she was one good-looking woman. “Anyway. I should get down to the cottage now—”
“That’s not going to happen,” he said. “Not tonight.”
“But—”
“The roads are worse than ever. I know there’s a driveway down to the Wilsons’, but it’s buried under feet of snow. The place is probably freezing. Tonight, you’re staying here.”
She looked around the clinic. “So you’re going to put me in a crate in the back?”
“Right next to Mrs. Levinson’s Manx cat.” He gestured at the Naugahyde bench in the waiting area. “Have a seat and put your leg up. I need to check on my patients, and then we’ll go over to the house. It’s not the Ritz, but I’ll give you something to
