at home until I get married, Dee. It’s Mother’s twisted form of punishment for me being twenty-eight and still single.”
“Well, if I were you, I’d risk it,” Dee argued. “Call Lenora’s bluff about that phony heart murmur of hers.”
The image of her mother, left hand to her forehead, right hand draped dramatically over her heart instantly crossed Cassie’s mind. “Oh, Lenora definitely has a heart murmur, Dee. It murmurs suck-er every time I play along when she fakes another siege with her imaginary angina.”
Dee laughed, but shook her head in disgust. “I’ve never been able to understand the hold Lenora has over you, Cassie. You’re one of the most talented, confident and self-reliant women I know—except when it comes to your mother.”
When Cassie didn’t bother to respond, Dee realized the subject was closed. Taking a pair of rubber gloves from beneath the examining table, she snapped them into place and transformed from best friend into Dr. Bishop, canine care-giver. She began feeling along Duchess’s hindquarters.
Looking up at Cassie, Dee said, “And you’re positive Duchess and this stray male made contact?”
“Oh, they definitely made contact,” Cassie confirmed. “If I’d found them sharing a cigarette when I finally got over the shock, it wouldn’t have surprised me a bit.”
“Surely you weren’t letting her run loose knowing her condition?”
Cassie felt like slapping the dear doctor across the face. “Of course I wasn’t letting her run loose, Dee. I had the little witch in the backyard. Her boyfriend was just aroused enough to dig a hole under the fence.”
“You’d be surprised how inventive dogs can be when they’re ready to mate.”
“Oh, I’ve been surprised enough for a lifetime,” Cassie wailed. “Just tell me what we can do about it now.”
“There isn’t much we can do, after the fact.”
“But don’t you have one of those pee-on-a-stick doggy tests or something? Surely you have some space-age method that can tell me if I should start knitting little mongrel puppy booties by the dozen.”
Dr. Bishop finished her exam and tossed the gloves in the waste can. “I can do an ultrasound later, but it will take at least nineteen days before I’m able to detect any fetuses.”
“Nineteen days!” Cassie exploded. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? The grand stud from London is supposed to arrive on Monday.”
“And that may be your salvation, Cass. If Duchess is receptive to the champion male bichon, and the mutt didn’t impregnate her first, you may get your champion puppies, after all. It isn’t uncommon for a bitch to mate with more than one dog, you know. In fact, I’ve seen litters that have two entirely different sires.”
Cassie groaned. “Must you dog people always use the B word so causally?” Cassie scolded. “Even though I’d like to strangle the little floozy myself right now, I feel like a traitor allowing you to refer to Duchess as a bitch.”
“Well, you’d better get used to the sound of the B word, Miss Priss,” Dee teased. “I’m sure bitch will certainly cross Lenora’s mind if Duchess ends up with a litter of unregistered puppies.”
“That’s what I love about you, Dee,” Cassie scolded. “You’re always so supportive.”
Cassie made several more laps around the small room before she said, “I hate to even mention this, Dee. And don’t start throwing things, but I’ve heard there’s some type of shot…”
Dee sent Cassie a look that stopped her midsentence. “Yes, there is a ‘mismating’ shot available if that’s what you’re referring to, but I’d never use it personally. It can be detrimental to the bitch’s health.”
Cassie frowned. “So, what are we going to do now?”
Dee leaned against the examining table, displaying her best I’m-the-doctor-you’re-the-buffoon face. “Well, we certainly can’t take a chance that Duchess might be exposed again before the proper sire arrives,” Dee said. “I think you should leave Duchess here with me. I know one of the breeder’s stipulations was that you keep the dogs in a home environment instead of a kennel, but it makes much more sense for me to supervise the breeding here. I have the facilities to keep the dogs confined, and I can keep an eye on both of them in case there are any complications.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “And what am I supposed to tell the breeder? The man was rude enough when I called to inform him that Duchess’s trainer was in the hospital and that I’d be taking care of the dogs in his absence.”
“Let me handle that part. I can come up with a long list of valid reasons why I should monitor the breeding.”
When Cassie nodded in agreement, Dee added, “And by the way. I’ll also need to examine your neighbor’s dog. I don’t want to take any chances where Duchess is concerned, Cassie. The dog could even be diseased, plus if he’s a mixed breed and their little rendezvous was successful, the puppies could be too large and Duchess could have trouble whelping.”
Cassie’s laugh was cynical. “Fat chance of that happening. I just had a screaming fit in the man’s front yard less than an hour ago.”
Ignoring Cassie’s comment, Dee turned to the small basin next to the examining table and lathered her hands. “Then call him back and apologize, Cassie. Do whatever it takes. Like I said, Duchess is the one we have to think about now.”
Cassie shook her head furiously. “The day I apologize to Nick Hardin, is the day…”
Dee whirled back around, ignoring the soap that splattered on the floor. “Get out!” she gasped. “Surely you don’t mean the stray belonged to your neighborhood’s resident Hell’s Angel?”
“Oh, he’s an angel straight from the gates of hell, all right,” Cassie remarked, chewing at her bottom lip. “I just didn’t expect him to be…”
“A cross between Antonio Banderas and Brad Pitt—with a body better than Sly Stallone’s?” Dee quizzed, exercising the ability all close friends have of finishing each other’s sentences.
Cassie’s interest perked slightly. “So? You’ve met my infamous neighbor.”
“Yeah, several months ago. I know you were livid after his smart reply about his lawyer jokes, Cassie, but he’s really a great guy. He and Ron are organizing a committee to help children deal with the problems they face after a divorce. Ron says he’s really great with the kids, and he’s real generous with his time.”
Disturbed by the news that Nick Hardin might have even one redeeming quality, Cassie said, “Well, he’s an arrogant ass, if you ask me.”
Dee shrugged her shoulders, then turned back to rinse the soap from her hands. “Well, you know what I always say. Nick Hardin’s one man I sure wouldn’t…”
“Kick out of bed,” Cassie finished with a groan, then added, “You’re incorrigible, Dee. If I had a hunk like Ron for a fiancé, I’d never look twice at another man.”
“But you do have a hunk, remember? Or has your
