Page 42 of Wish You Were Mine

“Thank you.”

I grabbed Cookie’s pet carrier from the spare bedroom, shoved a blanket inside, and carefully placed her on top. I probably didn’t need it to keep her contained since she was already unconscious, but the carrier would make it easier to move her.

I slung my work bag over my shoulder, grabbed the pet carrier with the other hand, and strode out through the front door, making sure to lock it behind myself. At the car, I dumped my bag on the ground and loaded Cookie onto the passenger seat, then chucked my bag into the back.

The drive to the veterinary clinic seemed to take forever, despite there being no traffic, and I sped the whole way. I beat Summer there, so I waited outside for her to arrive.

She pulled up only a few minutes later, jumped out of her Ute and jogged to the front entrance. Despite the fact that I’d woken her, she looked ready to go, with blue-green scrubs on her lower half and her hair pulled into a neat ponytail.

She swiped a card beside the lock and the glass door slid open. She motioned for me to stay where I was while she entered a code into the alarm keypad.

“All right, come in,” she said, hurrying to the nearest examination room without looking back. “Through here.”

I followed her and placed the pet carrier on the examination table. She undid the front, reached inside, and pulled Cookie out. My fluffy baby was whimpering now with every shudder, but her eyes remained closed.

Summer conducted a quick physical examination, checking for injuries the same way I had, and feeling along each of Cookie’s limbs and her torso. Then she listened to her breathing. My insides felt tight as I awaited a verdict. I had to believe this was something serious. I’d never seen any cat like this, let alone Cookie.

She opened Cookie’s mouth and looked inside, then checked her eyes. Her movements were brisk and efficient. It was strange seeing her in this setting. So competent. Very much a medical professional and not at all Liam’s baby sister. If this was the first time I’d met her, would I want to ask her out?

Probably.

Although there must be something wrong with me if I could wonder about that while poor Cookie was in such discomfort.

“Do you know whether she could have ingested any toxins?” Summer asked as she continued to assess her.

“Like what?” I asked, feeling useless. I inhaled slowly, breathing in the scents of antiseptic and wet fur. Cookie wasn’t wet, so it must be a lingering odor from all the animals who’d passed through this room.

“Chocolate, alcohol, acetaminophen, or any pesticides or herbicides you might use in the garden?”

I racked my mind. “I don’t think so. At least, not at my place. It’s possible one of the neighbors was spraying and she got into it. Why?”

She stopped moving and met my eyes. “I think Cookie has been poisoned. I’m going to pump her stomach and treat her for some of the more common toxins since we can’t be certain what it is.”

I clenched my hands. “Will she be okay?”

She pursed her lips. “She should be, but the sooner I can begin treatment, the better. I’m going to call one of the nurses to help, and while she’s on her way, I’ll get everything prepared. You can wait in the front if you’d like, but you can’t stay in the room with us.”

I nodded. However much I might not want to leave Cookie’s side, I got it. When I was treating someone in the ambulance, the last thing I needed was one of their worried relatives underfoot.

“I’ll be out there,” I told her, and bent to kiss Cookie’s head before leaving the room.

I sat on one of those padded vinyl benches that seems to be a staple in veterinary clinics and called Parks to let him know I was running late. He called me back five minutes later and told me to stay where I was. He’d found a replacement to work my shift for the day.

I thanked him effusively and watched as a car rumbled into the park. Sarah, a vet nurse a little younger than Summer, hurried out of the car and through the front entrance. She smiled at me but didn’t stop to talk. The door shut behind her. I checked my watch. Time seemed to be crawling by.

I waited.

And waited.

Eventually, Beverley arrived. She seemed surprised to see me, and paused to chat and assure me that Cookie was in good hands. I knew that, but it didn’t make the wait any less excruciating.

Cal turned up soon after, but he left again almost immediately, citing an appointment with a farmer out of town. A few customers passed through, purchasing treats, toys, and in one case, an eight foot tall cat palace.

Finally, Summer emerged from the back. Strain lines bracketed her mouth, but when her gaze landed on me, she smiled.

“She’s out of the woods,” she said.

My muscles went limp. “Oh, thank God.”

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