As soon as he filled Sophie’s plate, she slipped Belle a small piece of chicken. Placing a hand on her arm to get her attention, he shook his head no. She grinned, showing the small gap between her large front incisors.
He shifted his focus back on Angela, who hadn’t paused in her monologue. Her being this chatty was a rare thing, and he was grateful for her involvement in something wholesome at school.
Lord knows there are plenty of other things she could be involved with that could get her into trouble.
His cell phone jingled inside his pocket. Angie narrowed her eyes when he reached for it.
“I’ll just check to see who’s calling,” he said, knowing how much she hated for his work to interfere with their family time. He’d grown to respect that.
He didn’t recognize the number, so he pushed the call through to voice mail. He’d hoped it might be Mattie. Although she’d shared meals with them often during the winter months, she seemed preoccupied lately and had turned down his invitations. He missed her.
“Go on,” he said to Angela, putting the phone back in his pocket.
Apparently mollified, she continued to describe the yearbook cover. After listening and commenting for a few more minutes, Cole decided it was time to include Sophie in the conversation. It might keep her from slipping tidbits to Belle.
“That all sounds great, Angel,” he said. “What about you, Sophie? What’s going on at your school?”
She shrugged, giving him that vacant look children get when asked to sum up their day. “Nothing.”
“You know what? I looked at the calendar this morning and realized your birthday is next week.”
“You shall be nine years old, dear Sophie,” Mrs. Gibbs said with a grin. She wore her gray hair short and permed tightly against her head like a cap, looking every bit the role of grandma that she seemed to be fitting into, a role that Cole’s own mother didn’t seem to want. “What shall we do to celebrate, young miss?”
Sophie’s face lit up. “Can we have cake?”
“Why, certainly. You can choose what kind. Shall we have a party?” Mrs. Gibbs shot him a look, asking his opinion.
“We might do that,” Cole said, although he didn’t want to have to deal with a large gaggle of giggling girls. “It depends on what you have in mind.”
“You should have a sleepover,” Angie advised.
Sophie’s face took on a look of wonder. “I’ve never had a sleepover before.”
Cole realized that neither of the girls invited their friends over like they used to before Olivia left. Were sleepovers a rite of passage for girls Sophie’s age? He turned to his housekeeper. She had two daughters who appeared to be self-supporting adults; she apparently knew what she was doing when it came to raising girls. “What do you think, Mrs. Gibbs?”
“I think it’s a fine idea.” She drew both Sophie and Angela in with her gaze. “We should keep it small, only three guests at most. We could have your favorite dinner.”
“Hamburgers,” Sophie said.
“Yes, and cake and ice cream. Angela and I could plan some games, and we could tell stories. So many delightful things we could do.”
With Mrs. Gibbs taking charge, Cole was growing to like the idea more and more. “Maybe we could play charades or Pictionary.”
Mrs. Gibbs nodded at him, and he felt a glow at being included in their camaraderie. These instances when his family clicked were rare and something he treasured.
His cell phone jingled again. When he checked caller ID, he realized it was the same number from earlier. “This is the same caller. Someone might have an emergency. I’ll be right back.” As he excused himself from the table, he checked in on Angie, glad to see that she seemed too excited and involved with planning Sophie’s party to be miffed with him.
He connected the call. “This is Dr. Walker.”
A male voice boomed in his ear, making him pull the phone away. “Hello. Dr. Walker?”
“Yes, this is Dr. Walker.”
“Gus Tilley,” the man fairly shouted.
Cole had done work for Gus before, although it had been quite some time since he’d last seen him. “Hi, Gus.”
“I got a problem.”
There was a long pause. When the man didn’t go on, Cole filled the gap. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Dodger. You remember Dodger?”
“Your dog, right?” Tan and white, mixed breed, neutered male, medium size, friendly with strangers. He could conjure the dog better than an image of Gus. But then, that wasn’t unusual.
“Yep. He’s got somethin’ in his ear.”
“Can you see it?”
“His ear?”
“No, I mean the thing inside his ear. Have you taken a look?”
“I can’t see anything, but he’s holding his ear funny, and he keeps scratching at it.”
Cole thought of a grass awn, a wiry seeded-out stem that worked its way into a dog’s fur or crevices and could cause an infection after it burrowed in. The dog probably needed his attention, but it didn’t classify as an emergency.
“It could be a grass awn, Gus. I could take a look at him in the morning.”
“I . . . uh . . . I don’t know. Can you look in there tonight?”
“The office is closed. Emergencies only. Do you feel like this is an emergency?”
He answered quickly. “Yes, it is. He needs us to help him tonight.”
Gus was a bachelor who lived up Soldier Canyon Road in a log cabin that sat on a small acreage near the national forest. He kept a few head of cows and a horse, which he’d called Cole out to work on for routine things like inoculations. Though an odd man, he seemed quite fond of his dog and the posse of feral cats that lived in the barn.
The distress Cole heard in Gus’s voice tugged at him. “I’ll see him tonight if you think it can’t wait. How soon can you get here?”
“I’m at the edge of town at the gas station. A few minutes.”
So Gus had already driven the half hour into town from his home. No wonder he insisted on being seen. “I’ll meet you at the clinic.”
Cole disconnected the call and went back into the kitchen, where the three women in his life were involved in a lively discussion. Mrs. Gibbs had picked up pad and pen while he’d been gone and was taking notes. Perhaps this simple party had become an extravaganza while he’d turned his back, and he hoped things hadn’t gotten out of hand.
“Sorry, but I have an emergency at the clinic. Should only take twenty or thirty minutes, and then I’ll be back.” He scanned the three faces tilted his way and decided they all appeared okay with the news. He was in the clear. “You girls want to come with me?”
“I’ve got homework, Dad,” Angie said. “Better not.”
“I’ll go.” Sophie jumped up from the table and carried her dishes to the sink.
Cole cleared his own dishes, thanking Mrs. Gibbs for dinner. He heard Angie offer to help load the dishwasher, but Mrs. Gibbs declined and told her to go ahead and do her schoolwork.
“Grab a jacket, Sophie,” he said. “Real quick. Gus will be here any minute.” In fact, he heard the sound of a vehicle rattling past as he stepped into the garage and opened the door. Sophie trotted through the kitchen, dragging her jacket with one arm through a sleeve and Belle dogging her tracks.
“Belle, you stay here,” Cole told the dog, making her stop in stride. The big dog sat and gazed longingly at the door with her ears low.
“We’ll be back soon, Belle,” Sophie reassured her in a lilting voice as she followed Cole, shutting the door firmly so that Belle wouldn’t be tempted to challenge their decision.
“Load up into the truck,” Cole said. “Gus just went by.”