Healing You (Maple Grove) Read online

  Healing You

  Katana Collins

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Lex and Ronnie’s story, Sweet on You is coming soon!

  Chapter One

  A Note from the Author

  Also by Katana Collins

  Prologue

  Untitled

  Copyright © 2015 by Katana Collins

  Kindle Edition – published 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Photography by: Katana Photography

  Cover Design by: Shanoff Designs

  Edited by: Karen Harris

  Copy edited by: Jennifer Gracen

  Created with Vellum

  For my dog—my gentle giant—Red. I miss you every day.

  1

  It was one of those stunning New Hampshire summer mornings. You know the kind—the air was fresh and cool, but the sun was warm. Sky so blue you could damn near dive into the center of it and go for a swim. Maple Grove was swarming with tourists, and lovebirds walking hand in hand around the cozy little town.

  Steve Tripp groaned as he passed by the third couple kissing over bagels and eggs that morning. It wasn't even nine a.m. yet. Sitting outside at a local cafe, a couple twined their hands together and the woman batted her eyes as the man fed her a bite of his eggs. Grunting, Steve shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he strolled past them.

  You wouldn't think their small New England town had much in the way of tourism, but you'd be wrong. From the months of May through September, tourism in and around the Lakes Region boomed. And from November until March, ski season took over. As for the months in between? Well, the Artist in Residency Center managed to keep tourism flowing. And since Maple Grove was notoriously dog friendly, and Steve Tripp owned the only veterinary clinic in town, his business likewise was almost too busy to keep up with.

  Steve rolled the kinks out of his neck as he crossed the street to Latte Da, the new cafe and bakery in town. He'd been up before the sun this morning, taking care of a horse's cracked hoof over at the Wilson farm. And after the third before-dawn call this month, he was severely regretting offering his services to Mr. Wilson. He'd meant to extend the invitation on an emergency-only basis, but maybe he hadn't been clear enough on that. The fact that he hadn't specialized in large animal treatment didn't matter to Mr. Wilson or anyone in Maple Grove. To them, his diploma was just a piece of paper. He was community—family. And in this town, a person who took their business out of Maple Grove was worse than any Benedict Arnold.

  A cheerful bell chimed at the top of the door as Steve skulked in, desperately needing a caffeine fix. Lex looked up from behind the counter and over the sea of heads standing in line, sent him a grin. He held a finger and jerked his head, signaling for Steve to come around.

  “Good morning, Doctor.” Lex's British accent rang through the café as he raked a hand through his russet brown hair, the same shade as an Irish Setter that had come in for shots the day before. The pastry chef had moved to town last year. Until recently, he had run a bakery out of his own kitchen, catering his pies and desserts to local restaurants before finally opening this café a few months ago, in April.

  “Business is good, huh?” Steve looked around the crowded café.

  Lex shrugged and delivered a lopsided grin to the crowd. “Surprisingly, yeah. But ask me again when Old Man Winter comes for a visit.” Steve had always pictured people from England as being born with a silver spoon in their mouth and a stick up their ass; but Lex had neither. And Steve had grown to like the guy a lot in his first year there in Maple Grove.

  “You'll be fine, man. Orientation at University of New Hampshire will be here before we know it, and most of the students who live off campus find themselves here in Maple Grove. And once the first snow of the year hits, we'll get all those ski bunnies in town.”

  Lex nodded and grabbed the filter from the espresso maker, banging out the muddy coffee grounds. “Your usual?”

  Steve eyed the line he was so blatantly cutting in front of, but Lex swatted away his concern. “The man who saved my cat from the pound of baking chocolate she swallowed will always cut to the front. Your usual iced coffee and bagel?”

  Steve felt a smile curve on his lips. “You got it. Aw, hell. Add some cream cheese to that bagel, too. And an iced latte for Amanda. I'm feeling generous today.” His veterinary assistant worked damn hard for him at the clinic and he liked to give her as many incentives to stay working for him as possible.

  “You know…” Lex leaned forward, resting an elbow atop of the glass bakery case. “I just finished a new chocolate pistachio spread—it's like Nutella, but better. I could do half your bagel with the cream cheese and the other with the chocolate?”

  Steve groaned dramatically. “Twist my arm. But if Ronnie kicks my ass at the gym tonight, I'm blaming you.”

  Lex lifted both hands in surrender, backing away. “Don't you dare sic your sister on me.” His eyes flashed, and though it was subtle, he wet his lips.

  What the hell was going on? Was there some sort of love potion in the Maple Grove water reserve? Granted, the attraction between Lex and Steve’s little sister Ronnie was nothing new. He'd known for a few months that the pastry chef liked her. And while normally Steve was a bit overprotective of both his younger sisters, he liked Lex. He was a good man. If only Ronnie could get her head out of her ass long enough to see that.

  Lex rushed off to complete the order while his two employees—a couple of students from the high school—tended to the tourists in line.

  Steve leaned against the wall, facing the counter, and absently scanned the summer tourist crowd. It was Maple Grove’s busiest year yet, that was for sure. With the economy bouncing back, more and more people were swarming to the small town for their summer getaways. In line ordering was a woman—girl? Steve inspected closer, narrowing his eyes. Woman. Definitely out of college. Or at least, he hoped she was out of college. No way he'd be caught dead checking out someone young enough to have just graduated with his other sister, Callie, the baby of the Tripp family.

  The brunette had curly hair that was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. A mole sat to the right of her brown eyes and when she smiled one dimple creased the upper part of her cheek.

  Steve chuckled to himself. Oh, yeah, baby? Two can play at that game. He grinned back and flashed her the Tripp signature dimples, one on either side of his mouth. She dropped her eyes, catching
her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Steve sighed. Damn, how long had it been since he'd been with a woman? He did some quick math in his head... St. Patrick's Day. And since it was now July, that was... shit. Five months. Otherwise known as too damn long.

  He caught his reflection in the window beside him, and the scar slicing down his face stared back at him. Angry. Creased. Red.

  He ducked from his own stupid reflection as his phone buzzed from within his back pocket. Tension melted from his shoulders as Steve relaxed, happy to have the distraction. A text from Amanda: A walk-in appointment just arrived. How long should I tell her?

  Yep. The job that never ends. Nor did he want it to. In a way, Steve always felt more connected to animal kind than humans... not that he'd ever admit that out loud to anyone. He'd sound like a lunatic. But it was the damn truth. He typed a quick response to his receptionist and veterinarian in training. While he normally only had her a couple of days a week during the school year, her class load at UNH Maple Grove during the summers were significantly lighter. He got more help, and she got extra hands on training during this time. Five minutes away. Just getting coffee, he texted back.

  He tucked the phone back into his pocket, looking up just in time to see Lex handing a couple of to-go cups and a paper bag over the top of the bakery case. His friend's grin widened as he flicked a glance over to the brunette in line. “It seems you have an admirer. She took care of your bill.”

  Steve arched a brow in her direction, catching another one of her high-voltage smiles. “Thank you,” he mouthed from across the room.

  When he lifted the bag, he saw a phone number and the name Sophy scribbled onto it with a black Sharpie.

  Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all. Steve tossed one more wink toward the brunette and shouldered the bakery door open with a nod goodbye to Lex. Crossing the street, he rushed over to his veterinary practice.

  Pushing through the front door of his clinic, he smiled at Amanda and set her iced latte down on the front desk. He eyed the handful of mail she had left in his tray for him and debated leaving it until after lunch. “Morning, Amanda. How are ya?”

  He looked up to catch her wobbly expression. Eyes turned down, she swallowed hard and gestured to the back corner of their waiting area.

  Steve pivoted slowly. The first thing to catch his eyes was an older yellow lab lying on the tiled floor. As his gaze went to the owner sitting on the floor beside the dog, he met the wet eyes of Yvonne… Yvonne—his high school sweetheart, his first love. And though they lived in the same town, he could count on one hand the number of times they'd interacted in the years since high school. Even as their eyes burned into each other's, his gaze fell to the scar on her arm. He flexed his fingers to keep from running his hand down his own scar marring his face. In any other situation, he'd turn the opposite direction and leave if he saw Yvonne. Only now, in his own damn office, that wasn't exactly an option.

  2

  “Yvonne,” he said quietly, dropping the mail and rushing over to where she sat, cradling her dog Gatsby's head. He'd seen Yvonne and Gatsby numerous times around town. Just because he avoided talking to her, didn't mean he didn't notice her in the parks and at Elsa's. He noted the swollen lymph nodes around the dog's jaw. There was typically one reason that swelling of that nature happened—cancer.

  Her hazel eyes filled with moisture and she buried her face into the dog's neck with a sniffle. “Hey, Steve. Sorry to barge in on you like this—”

  His insides twisted like wringing laundry and his fingers twitched at his thighs. God, he wanted to cup her jaw, pull her into his chest and hold her until she stopped crying. But he'd lost that privilege long ago. Instead, he smoothed his palm gently over the dog's head. “Please. Don't apologize. Not ever,” he answered. He didn't deserve her apologies any more than he deserved her forgiveness. He lifted the dog's jaw, aiming its glossy, nearly vacant glare at his own eyes. “Hey buddy... what's going on, huh?”

  A sharp breath hitched her chest. “He—he won't eat. Barely drank any water since last night. He's just not himself. And this—this swelling...” She sniffled again, running the back of her hand under her nose. “It just appeared last night.”

  “Okay.” Steve pushed off his thighs to a standing position. “Let's have a look. Amanda, did you get his weight?”

  She nodded, rushing over with a clipboard.

  “Thank you,” he responded, but he was already focused on Yvonne and her dog. “So... Gatsby. You've been taking him over to the Laconia clinic for shots, I see.”

  He wasn't gonna lie... that kinda hurt like a kick to the ribs. Not that he would admit that to her. To drive an extra thirty minutes to a competing vet just to avoid him? He gave an inward head shake. She must really hate him. Still. He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing those awful words from the note thirteen years earlier that swirled in his head in Yvonne's cursive handwriting—I never want to see you again. Yeah, this hatred was definitely not new information. But that didn't mean it didn't still hurt like a bitch to acknowledge.

  He looked up to Amanda once more. “Can you have them fax me his latest paperwork?”

  “I already put the call in.”

  Ah, thank God for that girl. To have an assistant who could anticipate your needs? She was worth far more than anything he could pay her.

  He scratched Gatsby behind the ear once more. “C'mon fella. Can you walk?” Steve gave a whistle and pulled a MilkBone from out of his pocket.

  Yvonne stood as well, with a gentle tug on the dog’s leash. They walked slowly into the exam room while Gatsby mustered up the energy, panting the whole way. Steve's gaze dipped over the length of Yvonne. Even though she was in yoga pants that were covered in long, wiry golden hair and an oversized T-shirt... damn, was she beautiful. Her face looked almost the exact same as it had in high school, but her body... wow. Her body had filled out. He could tell even beneath her casual clothes. Those leggings and that cotton shirt clung to her petite curves in just the right places, while still leaving a bit to the imagination. Her dark blond hair was pulled back in a smooth ponytail and her face was fresh, free from makeup. Steve inhaled silently as she passed him. She smelled summery—like cotton right out of the dryer and sunflowers. He hadn't been close enough to smell Yvonne in years.

  And with that one quick scent, Steve was catapulted back into high school to a time when his dad had recently died and he didn't care about repercussions with Yvonne as his partner in crime. Seeing her now was a reminder to that first day they met in high school. Steve was a junior, and Yvonne was a sophomore getting a tour of her new school with Ronnie and Kyra when they walked into detention, where he was sitting quietly reading a comic book. She wore khakis and a polo shirt and nibbled on her index fingernail, leaning against the doorframe. He would have given just about anything in that moment to have been doing something cooler than reading Batman. They didn't say a word to each other. Ronnie introduced them, and as Steve went to wave, Mr. Bates shouted at them to leave Steve to finish his detention. That was it. One wave and he was hooked.

  Bringing Yvonne and Gatsby into a private room, he shut the door behind them and began the normal exam things he did with any canine patient. Heart—good. Ears—good. Teeth—good. Then he moved on to feeling around the lymph nodes. Pretty much all swollen, though the ones at his jowls were the most prominent. As he moved through the exam, he could see Yvonne sitting in the corner, watching intently and nibbling on her cuticle. Some things never changed.

  “How's the rescue?”

  She looked up. “Huh? Oh. Right, the rescue. Um, it's fine. Good. We won that northeast grant. Paid for some outstanding invoices we had piling up.”

  “That's great, congratulations.”

  “And I managed to trap that mama cat and her kittens the other day. The ones that were living next to the library.”

  “Oh yeah? So should I expect some vaccinations and a spay coming in?”

  She cleared her throat, dropping her h
and to her lap. “I already made the appointment with Amanda.”

  There was an excruciating silence as Steve finished his exam. Flipping his stethoscope around his neck, he leaned against the counter. Yvonne's eyes widened as they stared at each other for a second that felt like a lifetime. Memories flooded his mind within that moment. Dates to the movies, shoplifting at the mall for that adrenaline rush before they would run away and make out in his car. Football games where Steve would steal Yvonne away from her cheerleading squad and make out with her beneath the bleachers.

  “It's bad, isn't it?” she whispered, pulling him back to the present.

  Tension choked high in his throat. He hated this part of the job. And while some veterinarians preferred to keep emotion out of it, that was never an option for him. He'd always feel the ache when a terminally ill dog came into his office. It would never be easy to put someone's pet—someone's best friend and family member—to sleep. And it shouldn't be easy. “We won't know anything conclusive until I do an aspirate of the lymph nodes—”

  “Bullshit,” she snapped. While most people would have been grateful to delay bad news, Yvonne was never one to slowly peel a Band-Aid. “Just tell me.”

  “Yvonne—” He pulled a chair over in front of her. For a moment, he considered placing a hand on her knee but thought better of it. “I mean it—I can't tell you conclusively until I look at the aspirate. But based on his symptoms and the swollen glands, I suspect he has cancer—lymphoma.”