Page 26 of A Cosy Christmas with the Village Vet

‘Jam it is. I’ll give you a shout when it’s ready; you might as well have it at the table in the staffroom, rather than wolfing it down standing up.’

‘Thanks. And, Brogan…’

She turned to look at him, her big green eyes making his senses leap to attention. ‘Yeah?’

He smiled. ‘Thanks. I really appreciate it.’

‘That’s okay.’ She smiled back. ‘It’s only a couple of slices of toast,’ she said with a shrug.

It may only be a couple of slices of toast, but the simple act of kindness at the very moment he needed it, gave him a bigger boost than she could ever imagine.

He watched her disappear through the door, her ponytail swinging. Whatever indefinable quality this intriguing young woman possessed, it reached inside him and touched his soul. And it made facing the problems at Willow Cottage a little less daunting.

Before he knew it, the comforting aroma of toast wafted its way to his consulting room, giving his appetite a kick-start. He picked up his mug of tea and followed the smell to the staffroom where Brogan was setting a plate piled high with slices of toast on the table. The dogs looked on hopefully from their place by the stove. Wilf was drooling shamelessly.

‘Mmm. Toast has never looked so good,’ Nick said, meaning it.

‘Well, get stuck in before it gets cold. And please ignore Wilf over there, sucking his cheeks in like he hasn’t been fed for a week; he’s a right greedy guts. Oh, and the jam’s summer berries, by the way. I hope that’s okay. It’s from the shop in the village; homemade by Lucy, she’s one of the owners. I’m not sure if you’ve been before, but it sells everything, has a teashop attached to it too.’

‘The jam sounds delicious. And I’ll be sure to give the village shop a try.’ Nick was happy to see Brogan talking easily with him, no hint of yesterday’s awkwardness. He buttered a slice of toast, gave it a generous slather of jam and bit into it, his tastebuds dancing. ‘Mmm. The jam really is good,’ he said appreciatively through his mouthful.

Brogan beamed. ‘I thought you’d like it; it’s my favourite, especially on Bea’s creamy rice pudding. Mmm-hmm.’ She rolled her eyes as if in ecstasy. It made his pulse surge unexpectedly as the last time he’d seen her wearing that very expression exploded into his mind.

Wow! Down boy!He gulped and took a slug of his tea. Must be bloody good rice pudding, he thought.

Just then, Jules and Becky bustled in, wrapped up well against the cold, each sporting a dusting of snow flakes.

After a slew of “good mornings” and comments exchanged about the delicious smell of toast and the weather – according to Jules, the moors were due to be dumped with a load of snow from the Arctic later that week – Nick’s wayward thoughts had been brought under control and packed away.

Oblivious to the emotions she’d triggered in him, Brogan said, ‘Right, I’m just going to go and clean the kennels. I’ll contact Jed at the garage about my car on my break later this morning.’

‘Okay.’ He’d momentarily forgotten about her car being stuck in Lytell Stangdale. ‘I’ll give you a lift to drop the keys off if you like, or I can do it for you? Oh, and thanks for this,’ he said with a smile, raising the slice of toast he had in his hand.

Jules and Becky watched with interest, hanging up their coats, a “blink-and-you’ll-miss-it” raise of an eyebrow from Becky.

Judging by the two dots of colour that had appeared on her cheeks, Brogan had spotted it. ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, before scurrying off.

21

BROGAN

Her second day at Danskelfe Vets had whizzed by. Brogan hadn’t stopped for a minute, and she’d loved it. The only thing left to do after checking on the pets that were staying at the surgery overnight, was to have a word with Vonnie. The practice manager had asked Brogan to give her a knock before she left, then she could give her a quick update on her training. She felt excited at the prospect of refreshing her knowledge, of feeling that she deserved this job.

Brogan had contacted Jed from the garage over at Danskelfe in her morning break. Much to her relief, he’d told her he needed to call at the surgery to get some worming tablets for his dogs so would kill two birds with one stone and pick up the car keys at the same time, which he’d done. It had removed the problem of her having to accept Nick’s offer of a lift to drop them off, or of him doing it on her behalf, which would have run the risk of piquing Jules and Becky’s interest further. Something she wasn’t keen to do at all. Nor did she like to trouble Nick.

Since his visit to the surgery, Jed had taken a look at her car and mentioned a problem with some part he’d have to order in. Brogan was happy to tackle any range of DIY projects, but cars were a whole different matter and she didn’t have much of a clue of what he was talking about, but he had a reputation for being honest and not ripping people off and she trusted him implicitly – unlike his cousin over at Middleton-le-Moors, who was well known for carrying out unnecessary work and charging people through the nose. ‘Mind, Brogan, like I mentioned at the time, it scraped through its last MOT by the skin of its teeth, and things have got worse since then. I hate to say it, but I reckon it’s going to cost more than the car’s worth to put it right. You might be better off selling it for scrap and getting something a bit newer. I’ll do what I can to get you by for now though, but I can’t guarantee it’ll last for long,’ Jed had said. She’d thanked him, releasing a despondent sigh when she’d ended the call.

It wasn’t the news Brogan had hoped for on the run up to Christmas, especially with all the extra expense the season entailed, but she supposed it could have been worse; he could have said her ancient little car was beyond repair right now – which she’d secretly half-expected. It also meant that she would need a lift home after work, and back here in the morning, which wasn’t ideal, especially for someone who was so resolutely used to being independent and loathed relying on anyone for anything. She only ever asked for help as a last resort, when no alternative was available, and it always pained her to do so. Indeed, she was regularly told by Kristy and Anoushka that she never asked for help when she should, that they would be happy to help,wantedto help. ‘That’s what friends are for, Broge,’ Anoushka had said, quickly followed by Kristy who’d said, ‘Yeah, you don’t need asking twice when we need help; you’re always the first to jump in and offer, so why should it be different for you?’ But old habits died hard, and even though Brogan totally got this, something deep inside her made it difficult to push herself and take that step. She never wanted to run the risk of being viewed as a nuisance; the mere thought was utterly repellent. It was probably why her dog-walking business had got so out of hand; even though there’d been barely enough hours in the day for her to exercise all her canine charges, letting any new clients down and saying she was too busy was unthinkable in her book. Which was why she’d been so glad when Ella Welford had offered to help out.

But the loss of her beloved grandparents had changed Brogan’s outlook on life, and a seed of disquiet had taken root inside her. It had triggered a little voice that whispered in her ear, telling her life was too short to do things that didn’t make you properly happy. That she should grab the bull by the horns and go for it; put her own wishes and needs first for a change. Which she, blushingly, thought probably explained why she’d acted so out of character with Nick the first time they’d met. She’d unequivocally put her needs and wishes first that day! Big time. On a more serious note, it was also the very reason she’d brought her dog walking business to an end, and now had her wonderful job at Danskelfe Vets, which was something she couldn’t imagine regretting for a moment.

There was only one thing that had the potential to be a spanner in the works and that, sadly, was Nick Heuston. But, after giving it some thought, Brogan came to the conclusion that the best way to manage their “situation” was to carry on as if their “brief encounter”, as Nick had referred to it, simply hadn’t happened, hoping it would eventually fade away to nothing and become a distant, dusty memory. And she hoped Nick would follow suit without her having to say anything; hoped he’d forget about the “chat” he’d mentioned. Much as she liked him –reallyliked him – the more she thought about it the more she believed adopting this tactic would be easier for everyone. It would make everything way less complicated, which is just how she liked her life.

There was only one flaw in her plan. Nick Heuston seemed to be occupying more and more of her thoughts, with her mind regularly slipping back to the day they’d first met. Of how he’d made her feel, not to mention the emotions he kick-started inside her when they were together, the electricity that sparked around them. She’d never experienced anything like it before. It wasn’t going to be easy to ignore.

Despite this new change in her career and outlook, it still didn’t mean Brogan was any better at asking for help. Even as it sank in that she’d be without a car for a few days at least, her mind was working to find a way to get to and from the surgery without troubling anyone else, least of all Nick. She didn’t want him to start thinking of her as a burden or a headache. She shuddered at the thought. The old Land Rover sitting in the yard at home had crossed her mind, and she’d wondered if Jed could take a look at it with a view to fixing it, but she’d quickly discounted that; he’d already told her he was rushed off his feet and had squeezed her little car in as a favour because his parents had been good friends of her grandparents. Plus, fitting a new chassis would involve stripping the vehicle right down and that wouldn’t be cheap. She’d even considered making the journey on foot, her heart sinking as she realised it would put her back to traipsing over the moors in awful weather conditions. Much as it went against the grain, maybe she’d just have to bite the bullet and accept Nick’s offer of help.

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