Page 51 of Love Out Loud

Chapter Twenty

Daisy and Otto launched from the truck with so much exuberance, a bystander would assume they’d been locked in their carriers on a train for weeks, not barely over an hour.

“I need to remove your leashes. Sit,” Fiona commanded, and both dogs lowered their backsides almost to the ground but not quite. They were way too fired up. Honestly, so was Jake. This little field trip was a huge departure for him. Though varied and interesting, his life was not unpredictable or adventurous. Until now.

Addison’s brother, Gus, had picked them up at the train station. The drive wasn’t long, but it was filled with chatter about the health and conditions of dozens of animals. Jake half listened from the back seat as Daisy and Otto panted and pressed their noses against the glass, making smudges on the windows.

P&A Farm, named for the dad, Paps, and his kids, Addison and Augustus, was not at all what Jake had expected. He’d imagined something more like the pound—or what he thought a dog pound or animal control facility would look like; he’d never actually seen one. This place was like a real farm with green pastures and red-and-white barns in a horseshoe arrangement around a white wooden house with a porch wrapping all the way around it.

Addison looked the same as when he’d seen her at Fiona’s clinic, with her reddish-brown hair pulled back in a braid, wearing jeans, boots, and a huge, friendly smile.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a friend, Dr. Nichol,” she said, leaning over to rub on Daisy and Otto, who were so excited they looked like they were on the verge of combusting.

“You remember Jacob Ward,” Fiona said absently, looking past them to a couple of donkeys strolling to a wooden fence between two buildings.

“I sure do. Welcome to P&A Farm.” Addison gave him a firm handshake while her brother placed Fiona’s medical kit and canvas bag on the porch and went inside the house.

“When is she due to foal?” Fiona asked, still staring at the donkeys.

Addison glanced over her shoulder at a small, long-eared donkey with a huge, round belly. “Any time. She arrived yesterday, but our big-animal vet can’t make it until tomorrow.” Fiona and Jake followed as Addison strode toward the porch. “He’s also scheduled to check out a pot-belly that needs his tusks trimmed and an emu with an attitude problem.”

“All emus have attitude problems,” Fiona said, climbing the porch steps.

“True that. But this one is particularly grumpy, and we’re hoping he can find a cause. For you, today, we have a litter of six pups who need their first round of shots, three you did last month who are in good health and are ready for their second, and two kittens we’ve been bottle-feeding.”

Fiona sat on a bench on the porch and pulled some rubber boots out of her bag.

“You up to handling a case of bumblefoot in a pullet?” Addison asked. “I didn’t know about her until after I sent you the email with the list of patients.”

Fiona slipped off her sneakers and pulled on the boots. “I’ll treat anything without hooves. I left large animals behind at vet school, so I’m rusty. Paws, feathers, and scales are all fine. The pullet’s no problem if you have some Epsom salts.”

“Yep. Pups first.”

Jake hadn’t considered the wide range of animals a vet would have to study in school. The more he got to know this woman, the more she impressed him.

Medical kit in hand, Fiona walked with Addison to the barn closest to the donkeys with Jake, Otto, and Daisy following behind. As they neared the building, a small pack of six or so dogs ranging in size from tiny to enormous ran out into the sunshine, full of energy and wagging tails.

Daisy and Otto blasted past him to greet the pack with yips, barks, and butt sniffs. Jake remained frozen in place. Fear, thick and heavy, filled him head to toe like concrete. Even breathing became difficult. He’d thought he was past this, somehow, especially after spending time with Fiona’s dogs. Clearly not. Maybe he’d never get past it.

Ahead of him, Fiona turned. Her words were unintelligible and sounded far away.

Focus, he told himself over the buzzing in his head.Focus on remaining calm. It was the advice he gave his clients with intense stage fright.Relax your body from head to toe.

He began releasing the muscles starting with his jaw, then his neck and shoulders, moving down his body, never taking his eyes off the milling dogs, including Daisy and Otto, who were now making their way into the barn.

Shake the fear away, he told himself. This was one of his favorite exercises for clients made stiff from fear before they entered the stage. It not only created a good mental image, but it also afforded a positive physical action prior to performance. He shook his hands, trying to visualize his fear falling in droplets from his fingertips, like he encouraged his clients to do. After a moment, his wrists ached and his fingers tingled, but other than that, nothing.

Ridiculous. The entire exercise was ridiculous and useless.

For years he’d given frightened people advice from his lofty place of social ease and performance comfort, not realizing it was not just an issue of mind over matter. It was an issue of mind over instinct. Sometimes even the instinct to survive.

“Jake.” Fiona’s soft, rich voice broke through the ringing in his ears.

He’d had a taste of it at the dog show and later at the park, but Jake now better understood where Fiona was coming from with respect to public speaking, and it was a horrifying place.

“Jake,” she repeated.

With a shake of his head, he pulled himself back in the moment. Just because a fear seemed irrational or unfounded didn’t mean it wasn’t legitimate or serious. He thought back on the times he’d wanted to shout “get over it” to clients. There were too many to count.

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