Page 6 of Clearly Charmed

‘Apparently, part of that story is supposed to be about the town’s complicated history with magic, which will, of course, include us.’ Her deep brown gaze cut to me. ‘Has anyone contacted you?’

‘No,’ I said roughly. ‘You?’

She shook her head and handed me a dish, which promptly slid through my trembling fingers. The jarring sound of it shattering against the floor made Clo scurry into the kitchen.

‘Well, dang it.’ She sighed. ‘That was one of my favorites.’

‘I’m sorry, Clo.’

She must have heard the hitch in my voice, because she patted my arm. ‘No worries, my girl. Accidents happen.’

I shot Lia a dark look, warning her not to say a word to Clo, who would lose it if she learned anyone was coming to town to mess with the McGuire girls.

Lia ran to the pantry and returned with a broom and dustpan. I picked up the larger pieces of porcelain with the hand-painted strawberries along the rim. It was part of a set gifted to Clo from Grandpa Beau. My stomach soured as I gathered them in a pile. Lia began to sweep up the shards until her back stiffened, her head snapping in the direction of the porch.

‘Is there a problem, Lee Lee?’ Clo said.

‘Car racing up the driveway.’ Her eyes pinched at the corners as she concentrated on what only she could hear. ‘Two-point-five-liter engine. Four cylinders. Probably small SUV.’

We all rushed to the deck. A minute later a black SUV moved up and over the rise. The car came to an abrupt halt, and a familiar-looking pair of boots hit the gravel. Fear was etched into the lines around deep blue eyes. That odd flutter filled my chest again.

I bolted down the stairs and flew out the front door. Bryce’s eyes bulged as I raced toward him.

‘You?’ He cocked his head. ‘I’m here… looking for a Dr McGuire?’

‘That’s me,’ I said, ignoring the shock on his face.

‘Why didn’t you…?’

I shook my head at him. ‘I’m guessing you’re here about your dog?’

Instead of answering, he walked to the back of his SUV and lifted the tailgate. Indy was splayed across an old orange-and-yellow beach towel. When Bryce touched him, the poor dog could barely raise his head.

‘He’s been vomiting for an hour. Refuses to eat or drink anything. And, even though he’s house-trained, he’s had numerous accidents like he can’t control his bladder. Please.’ His voice bordered on panic. ‘Can you tell me what’s wrong with my dog?’

Chapter Three

Member of the Family

The county road was darker than the blackest ink. Only a few people used this side artery that led out of town and onto the main highway. I drove past rows of ponderosa trees lining the old lane. Bryce stayed right on my bumper, his headlights seeping through the back window of my truck like dwindling candlelight.

From the cursory exam I’d done at Clo’s, it was clear Indy was in bad shape. Once I explained the situation to my grandmother and Lia, asked them to apologize to Aster for me, I told Bryce to follow me to my clinic.

Ten minutes later we sped past a large sign on the side of the road. Carved into the wood were the words Harvest Moon Animal Clinic, Dani McGuire, DVM. I turned at a small lane you’d miss if you didn’t know where you were going. Fifty yards ahead sat what used to be the county firehouse. My sisters thought I was losing it when I bought one of the oldest buildings in town, but the A-frame structure built from wood milled from our local trees had been one of my favorites since childhood. The minute I heard it was on the market, I raced to the realty office to put in a bid. Luckily, no one had as much as glanced at the building in two years, and it became mine without too much trouble.

The scent of wet animal and disinfectant hit me as I walked through the solid oak door with Flora trotting beside me. It’d been seven years since I took ownership of the space, and although it was a lot of work to turn it into my clinic, it was worth it. The warm wood interior and twenty-five-foot pitched roof were breathtaking, but the real reason I loved the place was the square footage, which allowed me to build out three full exam rooms, a single surgery space and a closed-off area to house my X-ray machine. The firefighters’ sleeping quarters on the upper floor became my private apartment.

Bryce rushed up behind me with Indy limp in his arms. We walked past the semi-circle reception desk, and the small waiting area with a half dozen plastic chairs. I pushed through the door separating the clinic from the public space and headed down a short hall, turning into one of the exam rooms.

Bryce placed Indy on the rectangular steel table. Flora lay on a dog bed in the corner, her worried gaze glued to her new friend.

That stinging electrical zap shot through my body as I ran my hands from Indy’s neck down the length of his body. My senses could tell me this dog was sick, but it could never replace the important steps used to figure out a full diagnosis.

My fingers glided through his fur, not detecting any odd lumps or bumps. Bryce stood frozen, his gaze tracking my movements. I gripped Indy’s muzzle, prying open his mouth to discover his gums were close to white. When I pressed my stethoscope to his chest, his elevated heart rate warned I needed to figure out what was happening quickly.

I ran the symptoms through my head. My first thought was some kind of poisoning, especially with the vomiting and incontinence.

Bryce laid his hands on top of his head. His shoulders quaked as Indy stayed still.