Page 30 of Clearly Charmed

‘Even more of a reason to get this dog well. Where do we start?’ he asked steadily.

‘We need to wash our hands first, and then I’ll show you what to do.’

After we finished at the sink, I set out a clean surgical towel along with a set of needle-nose pliers, a few hemostats and two surgical basins filled with water. Bryce took the sterile gloves I offered, and I put on my own.

‘The tiny barbs on the shafts of the quills cause them to migrate inward and deeper into the tissues.’ I pointed to one of the needle-like tips. ‘You need to grip the quill close to the skin.’ I demonstrated on one lodged next to Julius’s nose. ‘Pull with slow and steady pressure to avoid breaking it.’

Once I had the first quill out, I dropped it into one of the kidney-shaped basins. Bryce grabbed a pair of pliers and went to work. We pulled and tugged in silence for a few minutes until he let out a pained yelp.

‘Son of a bitch.’ He shook out his hand. ‘Those damn things hurt.’

‘Oh, I forgot to mention. Try not to touch them.’

He arched a brow like my late reminder was payback for his lying, which I had to admit was not my intention, but a good payoff.

‘I didn’t realize porcupines were so vicious.’

‘They’re not.’ I handed him another glove. Motioned for him to swap it with his punctured one. ‘This’ – I waved at the array of quills in Julius’s mouth – ‘is how porcupines defend themselves. Imagine being a small animal. Easy prey. You’re minding your own business when an interloper, who is all kinds of intimidating, enters your territory without any kind of warning. Your first reaction is to protect and defend yourself.’

He tugged out another quill. ‘Why do I think we are not talking about porcupines anymore?’

I ignored his comment and flipped up Julius’s tender lip. Five more quills were embedded in the soft tissue.

This dog. Hadn’t he learned that trying to bite the damn thing only inflicted more pain?

I grabbed a hemostat and focused on the job at hand. Bryce paid attention to the area on Julius’s cheeks. Every few minutes, his gaze slid in my direction. A twitch of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth like he was admiring my technique and wanted to impress me with his own progress. We went back to working in silence, the basins turning red as we added more bloody quills.

‘Do you consider this work your life’s purpose?’ he asked, trying to pull out a particularly tough quill near Julius’s right ear.

‘That’s an oddly intense question.’

He shrugged. ‘I’m trying to make conversation without you thinking I’m pumping you for info about the town.’

I went back to nudging out the quills, cautiously probing Julius’s mouth with my finger to make sure I didn’t miss one. If all the quills weren’t removed they could do a lot of damage. Migrate down through the throat, stomach, or intestinal tract, causing problems for the dog later on. Julius was part of the first litter of puppies I’d helped deliver. I’d be heartbroken if I hadn’t been thorough, and he got sick later on.

‘The animals in this community are considered family. It’s an honor when a neighbor brings their pet to me and asks that I care for them.’

His gaze softened the same way it had before he slid his hand behind my neck and pulled me into that unforgettable kiss. The memory of his low moan lit up parts of my body that hadn’t been touched in way too long.

‘Do you only work on domestic animals?’

His question snapped me out of my thoughts. Reminded me what a bad idea that kiss had been.

‘In a small, rural area like Harvest Moon, I’m the only vet for fifty square miles. That covers a lot of agricultural and farmland. I help with calving if a cow is having a birthing issue. Float horses’ teeth. Even castrate bulls when needed.’

He casually crossed one leg over the other, and I bit back a laugh.

‘Do you consider your job, your writing, to be your life’s work?’

He grimaced as he coaxed out another quill. ‘When I started working for small newspapers after college, I thought so. In the last couple of years, though, my commitment has wavered.’

‘Why?’

He rubbed the top of his wrist over his mouth like he needed a moment to consider how to answer. ‘I had two professors in college who wrote for several high-profile newspapers. One was embedded with a marine squad during the first Desert Storm. The other one worked for years out of the Washington, DC bureau, covering a variety of presidents. Much of their curriculum centered on ethics. What was considered the core of good reporting. How your own personal bias had to be left at the door when you’re telling a story. I loved the idea of getting at the facts. Laying the truth out for readers and letting them decide how to feel.’ His jaw went tight. ‘Sadly, it’s not like that anymore.’

Julius let out a small whine, and I worried the anesthesia may be wearing off. I moved to the counter, filled another syringe, and gave him a small top-off.

‘How has it changed?’ I said, going back to work on the rest of the quills embedded in Julius’s muzzle.