Avery rubbed at her forehead. She’d definitely romanticized how easy it would be to take over an existing practice. That was why she’d bought the place sight unseen when she heard Doc planned to retire. Her memories of working there as a teen hadn’t quite matched up with the reality of the property. Too late to go back now. She slipped her notebook out of her glove compartment and frowned at the pages. Now that Tucker had done so much to fix it up, she needed to decide on the exterior sign. And that meant choosing a name.
She flipped to the back of the notebook, revealing a crumpled sheet of paper. It was ten years old, maybe eleven—and she’d saved it since high school, when Tucker had drawn out a logo for her future business. Avery traced around the drawing with a fingertip. The oval sketch featured the silhouettes of a cat, a dog, and a horse. Could she bear to look at it every day when he left?
Ah, never mind. She didn’t have to decide right this minute. Avery could stand to wait until all the work and been finished. She could stand to wait until she’d found the money to get a new X-ray machine. Then, when she was set to open, she’d worry about the sign, and not before.
Avery put her notebook away and hopped out of the truck. For fun, she went around to the side door—the one that served as the clinic’s entryway. It opened easily under her hand, without a squeak from its hinges. Tucker had fixed that.
The reception room itself gleamed. He’d taken out the old wood countertop and refinished it so that it looked marble, then reinstalled it. She dropped the invitation on the counter—Tucker would see it when he went by to go home. The entire place smelled of fresh paint with a hint of sawdust. New tiles covered every inch of the floor, gray and trendy. She suspected that Tucker had called in a little help from his brothers—it was a lot of work in a short period of time, but he’d managed it. Well, that was fine. If the Wells brothers didn’t have anything else to do, she wouldn’t fight them off. It was exhausting enough trying to figure out a way to pay for all of it.
Avery made her way down the narrow hall, peeking in the three patient rooms. Across from these was a fully equipped surgery, and behind that a hospital area. Doc had needed a huge property to fit all of it, and despite the stress, she was glad for it now.
At the end of the hall, the door to the X-ray room was closed.
That was the largest room of all, because it housed the X-ray equipment. Doc Oates had installed a machine big enough to accommodate large dog breeds and even some smaller horses—definitely sheep and goats. It had been massive. The equipment would have really come in handy while she treated the farm animals from the surrounding ranches. But that was a lost cause, now. She’d have to make up for it by treating the smaller animals only and hope they could make it. With the move and all the renovations, she didn’t have enough money for even one of the smaller machines.
Aside from that, nobody was going to let her make payments on it. And even if they did, she didn’t have the cash to cover those hypothetical payments and keep up with the rest of her overhead. And her mortgage. And her other bills.
Avery went to the door and pushed it open, just to complete her circuit of the clinic.
The room wasn’t empty. She couldn’t make out what was in there in the darkness, but something jogged in her mind. Tucker had pulled the old machine out, piece by piece. Surely, he hadn’t put it back in?
She flipped on the light.
Avery blinked hard, trying to get her eyes to work properly. The X-ray machine that had taken the place of the old one wasn’t as big, but she could tell that was because it was newer, with sleeker lines. And that wasn’t all. A portable machine sat in one corner, gleaming in the light. The whole place seemed to shine. It all smelled so new and nice.
She took one step forward, then another. The machine was cool under her palm, and definitely real. It looked brand-new aside from one very minor scuff on the side.
How? The question echoed around in her mind, along with an overwhelming sense of relief. How, how, how? This was how she’d felt as a kid on Christmas morning—disbelieving and grateful. And a little confused. With the nagging sense that it shouldn’t be possible, not by a long shot. Who? How? Avery stood next to the equipment, taking it in. This could save her from months of stress and worry and struggle. She’d been awake nights trying to figure out a way around this problem. And here it was, the solution, sitting right in the place it was meant to take up.
The voice behind her shocked her out of all these thoughts. “So, what do you think?”
12
Avery whirled around, her blue eyes wide with shock. She looked gorgeous. Her cheeks were pink from the gentle cold outside, and her coat hugged her curves so nicely that it made Tucker forget he disliked winter most of all. Her dark hair was swept back in a neat ponytail, and he had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around her and spin her in a victory whirl.
“You did this?” The words pierced him, their tone low
