Rising Storm (3 page)

Katelyn loved to grab a sandwich out of the fridge and sit there overlooking the farmland. That was her plan until she found her grandparents already sitting on the porch.

"Katelyn! Dear, what a pleasant surprise." Her grandmother, Ruth Wyatt, stood up elegantly from the chair.

Her grandmother was her favorite person in the world. More like a mother to her really. She loved the fact that it seemed her grandparents belonged in a different era where men rode around on stallions and rescued damsels in distress. Nana wore a pale yellow muslin dress today. Her face was on and complete with her customary bright red lipstick.

"Hi Nana. I was just coming home to grab some lunch. Hi Papa." She leaned down and gave her grandfather a kiss on the cheek.

Beauford Wyatt was still a vision. His tall lean frame was always in a three-piece suit, even though he lived out on a farm. He may still dabble in racehorses and farming, but in reality that was all her grandmother. Her grandfather was an investment banker. He was technically retired and didn't go into the office in Lexington every day, but it didn't mean he didn't work anymore. He had his office here at the farm and ran the family trusts and accounts as well for some of his friends.

"Your Nana was just plotting out your life, darlin'. I thought you might want a say in it though."

"Nana? Plotting my life again?" she teased.

"Well, you know I didn't say anything when you dated that horrid photographer. Or when you dated that sleazy actor, or the insipid male model you did that brilliant cover shoot with… but at least you were dating."

"Nana, I have a pretty good memory, and I definitely remember you saying something bad about each of my old boyfriends," she grinned.

Her Nana had spoken her mind about each and every one of them and had been right. But, they were years ago. When she was out of the limelight and in the labs at Auburn, those type guys didn't knock on her door anymore. Instead she got gross professors and stupid jocks that thought dating her was all about them and their status. Like she cared if the quarterback for the football team could take her anywhere. She'd been to places all on her own that were a lot more interesting. She had no desire to be a trophy wife. That had “bad reality show” written all over it.

"Humph, well, it was better than not dating anyone at all. You work too hard and that doesn't leave much room for fun."

"I have to work hard to afford the payments on my clinic. I just bought over a million dollars' worth of equipment."

"Pish posh. You know you have that in your bank account if you want it. You don't think I know about how much money you made as a model, and then there was your perfume and that clothing line you just sold to Bloomingdales. This is about you not wanting to get out there and get hurt again."
"Nana! Were you snooping in Papa's office again?"

With an elegant wave of her hand, her grandmother dismissed the question.

"You need a good country boy. Don't give me that look. Not all country boys are dumb rednecks. Look at your grandfather. Look at, say, Miles Davies or any of his brothers. Marshall ran his own security firm before taking over as Sheriff, you know."

She felt her cheeks redden. She couldn't escape Marshall even at home. The trouble was every time she heard his name she couldn't help but remember the way he felt against her body as they moved on the dance floor, and as they moved together somewhere else.

"Nana! Marshall is just a stupid country boy who happens to have connections. He would be horrible to date. I'm sure one of the Belles will make a perfect trophy wife for him someday."

"Now don't talk bad about the Belles! You know you could’ve been one. You can still be a Keeneston Lady when you get married."

"I need to get to work. I'll see you tonight. And no more life planning!"

She placed a kiss on her grandparents’ cheeks and headed back to her car with an armful of food she snagged from the pantry for her staff.

Katelyn took a seat in the soft rolling desk chair behind the computer at the receptionist's desk and smiled. She wiggled her toes inside her Crocs and wiped her hands on her blue scrubs. She had just completed a successful operation to remove a tumor on the thyroid gland of a six-year-old border collie. She had shelled out the money for a laser and it had worked like a dream.

Shelly Duffy came back up to her desk and put a hip on the corner. Shelly had been her one friend from when she was younger. She was happily married to her high school sweetheart and had an eight-year-old daughter. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her motherly attitude brought peace and comfort to the clinic.

They were always the odd couple. Katelyn had been tall and boney as a child and Shelly had been short and pleasantly plump. Katelyn had been wealthy and Shelly grew up in the Keeneston Trailer Park.

As soon as Katelyn knew she was going to open her clinic, she knew she wanted Shelly with her. Shelly was thrilled. She was working the night shift at a bourbon distillery and wanted to be able to spend more time with her family. Katelyn gave her the job and the two of them got the clinic up and running in no time. She’d be lost without Shelly up front doing all the check-ins and keeping up with the billing.

"Did you hear the news?" Shelly asked full of excitement.

"What news?"

"The Keeneston Most Eligible list came out in this week's paper."

Katelyn watched in fear as Shelly opened one of the drawers and pulled out the newspaper. It was worse than Page Six when she lived in New York City.

"You're the number one most eligible lady!"

"Me?"

"That's right. Ew, Nancy Kinkaid is second. She's such a… well, my manners prevent me from saying what I think about her. Yummy! Miles Davies is number one. Marshall is number two. I bet that's some hot sibling rivalry. Maybe they have naked pillow fights?"

Katelyn just rolled her eyes at her friend.

"Yeah, you're right. But they probably go horseback riding without their shirts." Shelly sighed.

Katelyn had to sigh too. She'd seen Marshall without a shirt and imagining his muscles in the sun as he rode toward her gave her a hot flash.

"Who else made the guy's list?"

"Paul Russell is third. I guess I get that, but I think it's just because he's the newly elected head councilman. I mean, he is handsome in that preppy way. He's just never wrinkled, you know?" Shelly asked rhetorically. "Fourth is Ahmed and there is nothing sexier than dark and dangerous. The best thing that happened in Keeneston was when our dear Prince Mohtadi came to town with his head of security! Mo and Dani are a cute couple and so down to earth, aren't they?" Shelly didn't give Katelyn a chance to respond before continuing, "Mo is elegant and has that royal carriage, but Ahmed is sinful."

"Who's fifth?" Katelyn asked, even though she secretly agreed about Ahmed.

"Fifth place is Henry Rooney."

"Pretty good top five. Henry is really sweet in a boyish way. I bet he's thrilled with being named a top bachelor. I can hear the pickup lines now!" Katelyn laughed.

"Oh, and if I'm not mistaken, here comes Bachelor Number Four. Unless you know someone else who drives a black Mercedes like that." Shelly sighed as she leaned closer to the window for a better look.

"Oh my gosh! Shelly, page the back and tell them to get the operating room up and ready. We have an emergency!"

Without hesitation, Shelly grabbed the intercom and Katelyn bolted out the door. She had seen Ahmed slide out of the car in his black suit and open the back door. He had bent down and when he straightened he had a dog in his arms. A dog that was a bloody mess and not moving.

"What happened?" she asked as she reached for her stethoscope hanging around her neck.

"I was doing a security sweep of the farm. I found him stuck in between the fence boards. He was breathing, but non-responsive. I pulled off the board and brought him straight here."

"He's breathing, but there are several spots that are going to need stitches and the dark bruising there on his stomach indicates that he's probably bleeding internally too. Quick, follow me."

Katelyn jumped up the two stairs and past Shelly who was already holding the front door open. She went through the "employees only" door and down the hall to the operating room.

"Put him here." She nodded her head to the sterile stainless steel table.

Her one technician was already holding a sterilized gown open for her to step into. Dottie tied it and held out the latex gloves for her. Katelyn shoved her hands in them and started an exam. She lifted the dog's lips and pressed her finger on the gum line. The pale gums and lack of color flooding to where she pressed was just another sign of probable internal bleeding.

"Dottie, tube him. I need him under for a while. I think we're going to have to go in."

Dottie's head bobbed under the blue surgical cap that covered her honey-colored hair. You couldn't get Dottie to shut up any other time, but during emergencies she was a miracle worker.

Dottie guided the plastic tube to the dog's trachea and turned on the anesthetic while Katelyn palpitated the abdomen and then looked over the other wounds.

"There's a bad one on his neck. Looks like a dog went for his neck and tried to rip it out. Dottie, start cleaning that and I'll look at it in a minute. I need to get inside. Mr. Ahmed, you may want to wait outside."

Ahmed simply raised an eyebrow and didn't budge from the doorway.

"Okay, but this is going take a while," Katelyn said as she slid the sharp scalpel down the dog’s stomach.

"What do you see, Dottie?" She asked as she worked her way into the dog's abdomen.

"It's pretty bad. I clamped off one of the bleeds for you. I'm suturing what I can."

"Okay. The belly is full of blood. I need suction." Katelyn planted her feet and readied herself for the long haul.

Three hours later Katelyn tied off the last suture. Her scrubs were soaked through with sweat. She ripped off her mask and hair covering as she gave the dog one last going over.

"Okay. Dottie, go prepare run number three for him and I’ll wash him up a little before I bring him back there."

"Let me help you, he must weigh close to a hundred pounds," Ahmed finally said.

He had stood by the doorway the whole three hours and never made a sound. In fact she forgot he was even there. She looked up to him now and saw the tight line of his mouth and the worried crease in his forehead underneath his black hair. His hands were relaxed by his side, but his compact body radiated with energy.

"It's alright Mr. Ahmed. I can get him."

"Please, just Ahmed is fine. What happened to him?"

Katelyn watched as he straightened up to his full height and came towards the table. He was about her height, had massive shoulders and a muscular chest that narrowed slightly into his waist. He looked like he could carry the dog, her, and Dottie as if it were nothing.

His strong hand, riddled with small white-lined scars rested on the dog's wide head and slowly stroked it. Katelyn was surprised by his gentle touch and obvious concern for the dog. It was completely unexpected.

"Looks like this dog lost a fight."

"A fight?"

"Yes. These are classic injuries from a dog fight - a professional dog fight. Not Muffy and Puffy getting into a fight over their dinner."

She watched as his jaw tightened and his dark brown eyes flashed with anger. He pulled out his cell phone and hit a number as he walked out the door. Well, he was a man of few words.

Katelyn finished cleaning the wounds and rechecked his gums. Still pale, but doing much better after getting a transfusion from her own dog, a white standard poodle named Ruffles. She was just about to carry the dog to the run when Ahmed came back into the room.

"I’ve ordered a full investigation. If there is anything on Mo's property that is evidence of a dog-fighting ring, I’ll know about it by the morning. Here, let me."

As she expected, he effortlessly lifted the dog off the operating table. She watched in awe as he brought the dog to his chest and quietly whispered to him in a language she didn't understand.

"Right this way." She led him down another hall and into the kennel. "Rebekah will be on duty tonight. She'll watch over him and call me if anything changes. The next day will decide if he's going to make it or not."

"Can I give you my number? I know it's late and your receptionist went home already. But, if anything happens, I’d like to know. I will also pay all the bills for him."

"I'm not worried about that. I am worried about the internal bleeding. But yes, give me your number and I’ll call you with an update."

She pulled out her phone and handed it over to him. He typed in his name and number and handed it back.

"Can I stay here with him for a while? I want to make sure he wakes up."

"Sure. I have work to do around here and will check back in an hour or so."

*     *     *

"I can't find Caesar." Camille Watkins wrung her thin hands together as she looked at her husband.

"What do you mean, you can't find Caesar? The dog was half dead!"

Andre Watkins was a large man. He was a tough man and he was not a happy man right now. The tattoo of a pinup woman on his biceps danced as he tried to control his anger by clinching his hand into a fist over and over again.

"Don't yell at me, you're the one who thought to use him for training with Antony."

"We can't have anything go wrong, especially now. We've worked too hard to get here. I'm going to find him. Just let the regional director know the fight went off well tonight. That the winner walked away with eight thousand and regionals made another ten thousand. That'll make him happy. But, for God's sake, don't tell him about Caesar."

Andre grabbed a spare leash from the dirty floor of their training shed and headed out into the woods with his flashlight. He had to find that damn dog before someone else did.

*     *     *

Katelyn looked up from her paperwork and saw it was already ten o'clock at night. She stretched her legs and grabbed her stethoscope. She'd do rounds and then check on the pit bull. If everything were alright she'd go home and get some sleep before coming back and checking on him early in the morning.