Page 49 of His Tenth Dance

“One day, about a year after I finished school and everything was going well, Dad brought me a stack of prescriptions. Things used with livestock—steroids. Sedatives. Tranquilizers.Definitely things I had written prescriptions for in the past. They weren’t illegal, but they also weren’t for clients.”

“I asked him what they were for, and he said he sold them to his friends on the side. That veterinary clinics could definitely do that. A vet doesn’t always have to administer every shot, you know.”

She heard the bitterness in her own tone, and how it had lowered to mimic something her father had said to her.

Mission’s arms around hers tightened, and Kristie realized that she had tensed as well. She breathed in and then out, trying to release her muscles. It only sort of worked.

“My name went on all the prescriptions. On all the orders. But I had no idea how the medications were being used. Then one of my dad’s family friends—that I had known my whole life; who we’d gone to church with for decades—came into the clinic, and he wanted more controlled substances—not for animals. I was a doctor; I could do it.

“I didn’t want to do it, and when I talked to my father about it, he said, ‘We’re helping people. That’s what you do as a doctor.’”

“I’m sorry, Kris,” Mission murmured.

“And ofcourse, I want to help people—and animals. I still didn’t fill the prescriptions, and the next day, my dadandhis friend came in together to confront me. I heard things like, ‘Don’t be so rigid, Kristie. You want your practice to survive, don’t you? We can go somewhere else.’

“Dean texted me all day long and told me this type of thing was normal. That everyone in the farming industry did it…. So I filled the prescriptions.”

She let out a shuddering breath, the story almost done. “And I’ve hated myself for it ever since.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, kitten,” Mission said, pressing his lips against her earlobe.

“I didn’t feel right about it—whether it was legal or not—and I wouldn’t do it again. When my dad confronted me, I told him he’d have to find someone else to write the prescriptions. Dean tried to convince me, and I told him the same thing. They came together, and I told them I would shut down my clinic and leave town. And you know what he said?”

“I don’t know, kitten,” Mission said.

“‘Then go. Good luck starting over somewhere else.’” Kristie could still hear the words as if they’d just been spoken to her.

“They told me I’d have to leave the state. That I wouldn’t be able to set up a practiceanywherein Arizona, and since my clinic was part of their family business and tied to their supply store, I lost everything.”

“Really?” Mission asked.

“I packed up my apartment with my dad and my brother standing outside the door, checking every box that went out. It was humiliating and horrifying. I was angry and hurt, and I thought, if I couldn’t trust my own father and brother, then I could never trust anyone ever again.”

“Kitten, that’s just not true.”

“I know that now,” she said. “But it’s still very hard for me to trust others. I learned that love and loyalty was conditional. If I did what Dad said, everything was great. If I didn’t—good luck out there.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He moved his hand to her hip and traced slow circles there. “Love and loyalty from family should not be conditional.”

“I clean the church, because my faith in God was shaken by what happened. How my mom and dad and brother were these pillars of our church, and yet doing questionable things in the dark.” She took a breath, not quite done yet.

“I clean, because it’s how I make peace with what I don’t understand. And it’s how I show God that I’m not perfect, but I’m alsonotbroken by what happened.”

“I don’t think you’re broken, Kris,” Mission said. “I think you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

She turned to face him, burying her face in his chest and breathing in the powerful, woodsy scent of his clothing.

“I know I could bend more than I do,” she said. “I try to do everything the right way, no exceptions, even when it’s hard, and even when it hurts. And I know God doesn’t expect that of me. But it’s still hard for me to let go of it.”

“You’ve built an amazing clinic here,” Mission reminded her. “And you’ve got your baking friends, andsomany people who love and admire and respect you.”

She nodded against his chest. “Lennie and Harper and Jocelyn were sent from God. They’ve taught me that friendship doesn’t have to come with strings. They don’t make me talk about my family. They just pass the brownies and make me laugh.”

Mission moved his hand slowly up and down her back. “I’m glad you have them.”

“For a while, I was convinced that there was something wrong with me,” she said. “That I wasn’t trustworthy or lovable or worth protecting.”

She pulled away slightly and looked up at him. Since she’d been in the dark for a while, her eyes had adjusted, and she could see him quite clearly.

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