By Emily March
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The mayor scowled and banged his gavel again for good measure. ” “Just like the diesel pump at your place,” added one of the council members, Larry Wilson, who owned Eternity’s building supply store. “I have to go beg fuel for my delivery trucks from the city pumps. ” “As soon as I know that my business will survive the winter,” Dale fired back. “Just spill the beans, Hank. ” The mayor closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and visibly braced himself before saying in a flat, defeated tone.
Instinct kicked in, and in a strange twist of fate, Gabe prepared to fight for his life. He rolled and the animal rolled with him and let out a sound. Gabe froze. This wasn’t a mountain cat. Arf, arf, arf. It pounced again, its forelegs landing on Gabe’s chest, and a long wet tongue rolling out to lick his face. A dog. Gabe’s breath fogged on the air as he let out a heavy sigh, pushed the dog off his chest, and sat up. It was a goofy, too-friendly, starved-to-skin-and-bones boxer with floppy ears and a crooked tail.
You poor baby,” she murmured to the dog. “We tussled a bit when I tried to free him. ” Nic sedated the suffering animal and made a cursory examination. Lacerations, trauma where he’d chewed himself. Broken teeth. She studied the bone. “Not fractured, believe it or not. ” With that pronouncement, Nic focused on her patient and went to work. Gabe breathed a little easier when he saw the competent, methodical manner in which the vet acted. Dr. Nicole Sullivan of Eternity Springs Veterinary Clinic—according to the sign beside the door—obviously knew what she was doing.
Angel's Rest by Emily March