The Choice

101/571 Wide streets, shade trees, and a littlemore than a hundred restored homes occu-pied several blocks, eventually giving way toFront Street and a short boardwalk thatoverlooked the marina. Slips were occupiedby leisure and working boats of every shapeand size; a magnificent yacht worth millionsmight be docked next to a small crab boat onone side, with a lovingly maintained sailboaton the other. There were a couple of restaur-ants with gorgeous views: old, homegrownplaces with local character, complete withcovered patios and picnic tables that madecustomers feel as if they were on vacation ina place where time stood still. On occasionalweekend evenings, bands would perform atthe restaurants, and last summer on theFourth of July, when she was visiting Kevin,so many people came to hear the music andsee the fireworks that the marina literallyfilled with boats. Without enough slips to ac-commodate them, the boats were simply tied

102/571up to one another, and their owners wouldwalk from boat to boat until they reached thedock, accepting or offering beers to strangersas they went. On the opposite side of the street, therewere real estate offices mingled with artshops and tourist traps. In the evenings,Gabby liked to stroll through the art shops toexamine the work. When she was young,she’d dreamed of painting or drawing for aliving; it took a few years before she realizedthat her ambition far exceeded her talent.That didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciatequality work, and every now and then shefound a photograph or painting that madeher pause. Twice, she’d actually made pur-chases, and both paintings now hung in herhouse. She’d considered buying a few moreto complement them, but her monthlybudget prevented it, at least for the timebeing.

103/571 A few minutes later, Gabby pulled intoher driveway and yelped as she got out of thecar before gamely making her way to thefront door. Molly met her on the porch, tookher sweet time smelling the flower bed untilshe took care of business, then hopped intothe passenger seat. Gabby yelped again asshe got back in, then rolled down the windowso Molly could hang her head out, somethingshe loved to do. The Down East Veterinary Clinic wasonly a couple of minutes away, and shepulled into the parking lot, listening to thecrunch of gravel beneath her wheels. A rusticand weathered Victorian, the clinic buildingappeared less like an office than a home. Sheslipped a leash on Molly, then stole a glanceat her watch. She prayed the vet would bequick. The screen door opened with a loudsqueak, and she felt Molly tug at the leash asshe was confronted with odors typical of

104/571animal clinics. Gabby approached the frontdesk, but before she could speak, the recep-tionist stood up from behind her desk. “Is this Molly?” she asked. Gabby didn’t bother to hide her surprise.Living in a small town still took some gettingused to. “Yeah. I’m Gabby Holland.” “Nice to meet you. I’m Terri, by the way.What a beautiful dog.” “Thank you.” “We were wondering when you’d gethere. You have to get back to work, right?”She grabbed a clipboard. “Let me go aheadand get you set up in a room. You can do thepaperwork there. That way, the vet can seeyou right away. It shouldn’t be long. He’s al-most done.” “Great,” Gabby said. “I really appreciateit.” The receptionist led them to an adjoiningroom; just inside was a scale, and she helpedMolly get on it. “It’s no big deal. Besides, I

105/571bring my kids to your pediatric office all thetime. How do you like it so far?” “I’m enjoying it,” she said. “It’s busierthan I thought it would be.” Terri recorded the weight, then pro-ceeded down the hallway. “I just love Dr.Melton. He’s been wonderful with my son.” “I’ll tell him,” Gabby said. Terri motioned to a small room furnishedwith a metal table and plastic chair andhanded the clipboard to Gabby. “Just fill thatout, and I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.” Terri left them alone, and Gabby gingerlytook a seat, wincing as she felt the muscles inher legs plead in agony. She took a couple ofdeep breaths, waiting until the pain passed,then filled out the paperwork while Mollywandered the room. Less than a minute later, the door openedand the first thing Gabby noticed was thewhite smock; an instant later, the name em-broidered in blue letters. Gabby was just

106/571about to speak, but sudden recognition madeit impossible. “Hi, Gabby,” Travis said. “How are you?” Gabby continued to stare, wonderingwhat on earth he was doing here. She wasabout to say something when she realizedthat his eyes were blue, when she’d thoughtthey were brown. Strange. Still— “I take it this is Molly,” he said, interrupt-ing her thoughts. “Hey, girl . . .” He squattedand rubbed Molly’s neck. “You like that? Oh,you’re a sweet one, aren’t you? How you feel-ing, girl?” The sound of his voice brought her back,and memories of their argument the othernight followed. “You’re—you’re the vet?”Gabby stammered. Travis nodded as he continued to scratchMolly’s neck. “Along with my dad. He startedthe clinic, I joined him after I finishedschool.”

107/571 This couldn’t be happening. Of all thepeople in this town, it had to be him. Why onearth couldn’t she have an ordinary, uncom-plicated day? “Why didn’t you say anything the othernight?” “I did. I told you to bring her to the vet,remember?” Her eyes narrowed. The man seemed toenjoy infuriating her. “You know what Imean.” He looked up. “You mean about me beingthe vet? I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’tlet me.” “You should have said somethinganyway.” “I don’t think you were in any mood tohear it. But that’s water under the bridge. Nohard feelings.” He smiled. “Let me check thisgirl out, okay? I know you have to get back towork, so I’ll make this quick.”

108/571 She could feel her anger rising at his non-chalant “No hard feelings.” Part of herwanted to leave right then. Unfortunately, hewas already beginning to prod Molly’s belly.Nor, she realized, could she rise quickly,even if she tried, since right now her legsseemed to be on strike. Chagrined, shecrossed her arms and felt something akin toa knife blade plunging into her back andshoulders while Travis readied the stetho-scope. She bit her lip, proud of the fact shehadn’t yelped again. Travis glanced at her. “You okay?” “I’m fine,” she said. “You sure? You seem like you’re in pain.” “I’m fine,” she repeated. Ignoring her tone, he returned his atten-tion to the dog. He moved the stethoscope,listened again, then examined one of hernipples. Finally, he slipped on a rubber glovewith a snap and did a quick internal.

109/571 “Well, she’s definitely pregnant,” he said,removing the glove and tossing it into thebin. “And from the looks of things, she’sabout seven weeks along.” “I told you.” She glared at him. And Mobyis responsible, she refrained from adding. Travis stood and put the stethoscopeback into his pocket. He reached for the clip-board and flipped the page. “Just so you know, I’m pretty sure Moby’snot responsible.” “Oh, no?” “No. Most likely it’s that Labrador I’veseen around the neighborhood. I think he’sold man Cason’s, but I’m not positive aboutthat. It might be his son’s dog. I know he’sback in town.” “What makes you so sure it’s not Moby?” He started making notes, and for a mo-ment, she wasn’t sure he’d heard her. He shrugged. “Well, for one thing, he’sbeen neutered.”

110/571There are moments when mental overloadcan render words impossible. All at once,Gabby saw a mortifying montage of herselfbabbling and crying and finally storming offin a huff. She did have a vague memory ofhim trying to tell her something, all of whichserved to make her feel queasy. “Neutered?” she whispered. “Uh-huh.” He looked up from the clip-board. “Two years ago. My dad did it here inthe office.” “Oh . . .” “I tried to tell you that, too. But you leftbefore I had a chance. I felt sort of bad aboutit, so I stopped by on Sunday to tell you then,but you were out.” She said the only thing that came tomind. “I was at the gym.” “Yeah? Good for you.” It took some effort, but she uncrossed herarms. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

111/571 “No hard feelings,” he said again, but thistime it made her feel even worse. “But listen,I know you’re in a rush, so let me tell you abit about Molly, okay?” She nodded, feeling as if she’d beenplaced in the corner by her teacher, stillthinking about her tirade on Saturday night.The fact that he was being gracious about itsomehow made it even worse. “The gestation period lasts nine weeks, soyou’ve got another two weeks. Her hips arewide enough, so you don’t have to worryabout that, which was why I wanted you tobring her in. Collies sometimes have smallhips. Now, normally, there’s nothing youneed to do, but keep in mind that most likelyshe’ll want a cool, dark place to have herpuppies, so you might want to put some oldblankets down in the garage. You have a doorfrom the kitchen, right?” She nodded again, feeling as if she wereshrinking.

112/571 “Just leave it open, and she’ll probablystart wandering in there. We call it nesting,and it’s perfectly normal. Odds are she’llhave the puppies when it’s quiet. At night, orwhile you’re at work, but remember this iscompletely natural, so there’s nothing toworry about. The puppies will know how towean right away, so you don’t need to beconcerned about that, either. And you’ll mostlikely throw out the blankets, so don’t useanything fancy, okay?” She nodded for the third time, feelingever smaller. “Other than that, there’s not much moreyou need to know. If there are any problems,you can bring her to the office. If it’s afterhours, you know where I live.” She cleared her throat. “Okay.” When she said nothing else, he smiledand began to move toward the door. “That’sit. You can bring her back home if you’d like.But I’m glad you brought her in. I didn’t

113/571think it was an infection, but I’m happy Imade sure.” “Thanks,” Gabby mumbled. “And again,I’m really sorry. . . .” He held up his hands to stop her. “It’s noproblem. Really. You were upset, and Mobydoes wander the neighborhood. It was anhonest mistake. I’ll see you around, okay?”By the time he gave Molly a final pat, Gabbyfelt six inches tall. Once Travis—Dr. Parker—left the examroom, she waited for a long moment to becertain he was gone. Then slowly, painfully,she rose from her chair. She peeked out thedoor and, after making sure the coast wasclear, went to the receptionist’s desk, whereshe quietly paid her bill. By the time she got back to work, the onlything Gabby knew for certain was that as for-giving as he’d been, she’d never live downwhat she’d done, and since there wasn’t arock large enough for her to crawl under, it

114/571was in her best interest to find a way to avoidhim for a while. Not forever, of course. So-mething reasonable. Like the next fifty years.

Four Travis Parker stood by the window,watching as Gabby led Molly back to the car.He was smiling to himself, amused by herexpressions. Though he barely knew her,he’d seen enough to conclude that she wasone of those people whose expressions werea window to their every feeling. It was a rarequality these days. He often felt that toomany people lived their lives acting and pre-tending, wearing masks and losing them-selves in the process. Gabby, he felt certain,would never be that way.

116/571 Pocketing his keys, he headed for histruck, with the promise that he’d be backfrom lunch in half an hour. He retrieved hiscooler—he packed his lunch every morn-ing—and drove to his usual spot. A year agohe’d purchased a plot of land overlookingShackleford Banks at the end of Front Street,with the thought that one day he’d build hisdream home there. The only problem wasthat he wasn’t quite sure what that entailed.For the most part, he led a simple life anddreamed of throwing up a rustic little shacklike the kind he’d seen in the Florida Keys,something with lots of character that ap-peared a hundred years old on the outsidebut was surprisingly bright and roomy on theinside. He didn’t need much space—a bed-room and maybe an office in addition to theliving area—but as soon as he’d start the pro-cess, he’d reason that the lot was bettersuited for something more family-friendly.That rendered the image of his dream home

117/571fuzzier, since it no doubt included a futurewife and kids, neither of which he was evenclose to imagining. Sometimes, the way he and his sister hadturned out struck him as strange, since she,too, was in no hurry to marry. Their parentshad been married for almost thirty-fiveyears, and Travis could no more pictureeither of them single than he could picturehimself flapping his arms and zooming intothe clouds. Sure, he’d heard the stories ofhow they’d met on a church group campingtrip while they were in high school, howMom had cut her finger while slicing a pieceof pie for dessert, and how dad had clampedhis hand over the wound like a surgicalbandage to stem the bleeding. One touch and“Bing, bang, boom, just like that,” Dad wouldsay, “I knew she was the one for me.” So far, there’d never been a bing, bang,boom for Travis. Nothing even close, for thatmatter. Sure, there was his high school

118/571girlfriend, Olivia; everyone at the schoolseemed to think they were perfect for eachother. She lived across the bridge in More-head City these days, and every now andthen he’d run into her at Wal-Mart or Target.They’d chat for a minute or so about nothingimportant and then amicably go their separ-ate ways. There had been countless girlfriendssince Olivia, of course. He wasn’t cluelesswhen it came to women, after all. He foundthem attractive and interesting, but morethan that, he was genuinely fond of them. Hewas proud of the fact that he’d never hadwhat could even remotely be considered apainful breakup for either him or one of hisexes. The breakups were almost always mu-tual, petering out like a soggy fuse on a fire-cracker as opposed to the big kaboom of fire-works overhead. He considered himselffriends with all of his exes—Monica, hislatest, included—and figured they’d say the

119/571same thing about him. He wasn’t right forthem, and they weren’t right for him. He’dwatched three former girlfriends get marriedoff to great guys, and he’d been invited to allthree weddings. He seldom thought aboutfinding permanence or his soul mate, but inthe rare times he did, he always ended upimagining finding someone who shared thesame active, outdoor passions he did. Lifewas for living, wasn’t it? Sure, everyone hadresponsibilities, and he didn’t mind those.He enjoyed his work, earned a good living,owned a house, and paid his bills on time,but he didn’t want a life where those thingsconstituted all there was. He wanted to ex-perience life. No, change that. He needed toexperience life. He’d been that way for as long as hecould remember. Growing up, Travis hadbeen organized and capable when it came toschool, getting good grades with a minimumof fuss or anxiety, but, more often than not,

120/571just as happy with a B instead of an A. Itdrove his mother crazy—“Imagine how wellyou could do if you applied yourself,” she re-peated every time a report card came home.But school didn’t excite him the way ridinghis bike at breakneck speed or surfing in theOuter Banks did. While other kids thoughtabout sports in terms of baseball and soccer,he thought of floating on air on his motor-bike as he soared off a dirt ramp or the rushof energy he felt when he successfully landedit. He was an X Games kind of kid, even be-fore there was such a thing, and by thirty-two, he’d pretty much done it all. In the distance, he could see wild horsescongregating near the dunes of ShacklefordBanks, and as he watched them, he reachedfor his sandwich. Turkey on wheat with mus-tard, an apple, and a bottle of water; he hadthe same thing every day, after the exactsame breakfast of oatmeal, scrambled eggwhites, and a banana. As much as he craved

121/571the occasional adrenaline rush, his dietcouldn’t be more boring. His friendsmarveled at the rigidity of his self-control,but what he didn’t tell them was that it hadmore to do with his limited palate than dis-cipline. When he was ten, he’d been forced tofinish a plate of Thai noodles drenched inginger, and he’d vomited most of the night.Ever since then, the faintest whiff of gingerwould send him gagging to the bathroom,and his palate had never been the same. Hebecame timid about food in general, prefer-ring plain and predictable to anything withexotic flavor; then gradually, as he grewolder, he cut out the junk. Now, after morethan twenty years, he was too afraid tochange. As he enjoyed his sandwich—plain andpredictable—he wondered at the direction ofhis thoughts. It wasn’t like him. He usuallywasn’t prone to deep reflection. (Anothercause of the inevitable soggy fuse, according

122/571to Maria, his girlfriend of six years ago.) Usu-ally he just went about his life, doing whatneeded to be done and figuring out ways toenjoy the rest of his time. That was one of thegreat things about being single: A personcould pretty much do what he wanted,whenever he wanted, and introspection wasonly an option. It had to be Gabby, he thought, thoughfor the life of him, he couldn’t understandwhy. He barely knew her, and he doubtedwhether he’d even had a chance to meet thereal Gabby Holland yet. Oh, he’d seen theangry one the other night and the mea culpaone just a little while ago, but he had no ideahow she behaved under ordinary circum-stances. He suspected that she had a goodsense of humor, though on closer reflection,he couldn’t pin down the reason he thoughtso. And she was no doubt intelligent, thoughhe could have deduced that on the basis ofher job. But other than that . . . he tried and

123/571failed to picture her on a date. Still, he wasglad she’d come by, if only to give them achance to start over as neighbors. One thinghe’d learned was that bad neighbors couldmake a person miserable. Joe’s neighbor wasthe kind of guy who burned leaves on thefirst gorgeous day of spring and mowed hislawn first thing Saturday mornings, and thetwo of them had nearly come to blows morethan once after a long night with the baby.Common courtesy, it sometimes seemed toTravis, was going the way of the dinosaurs,and the last thing he wanted was for Gabbyto feel any reason to avoid him. Maybe he’dinvite her over the next time his friends cameby. . . . Yeah, he thought, I’ll do that. The de-cision made, he gathered his cooler and star-ted back toward his truck. On tap that after-noon were the regular assortment of dogsand cats, but at three, someone was sup-posed to be bringing in a gecko. He liked

124/571treating geckos or any exotic pet; the ideathat he knew what he was talking about,which he did, always impressed the owners.He enjoyed their awed expressions: I wonderif he knows the exact anatomy andphysiology of every creature on earth. Andhe pretended that he did. But fact was a bitmore prosaic. No, he of course didn’t knowthe ins and outs of every creature onearth—who could?—but infections were in-fections and pretty much treated the sameway regardless of species; only the medica-tion dose was different, and that he had toverify in a reference book he kept on hisdesk. As he got in the car, he found himselfthinking about Gabby and wondering wheth-er she’d ever gone surfing or snowboarding.It seemed unlikely, but at the same time, hehad the strange feeling that, unlike most ofhis exes, she would be up for either of thosetwo things, given the opportunity. He wasn’t

125/571sure why, and as he started the engine hetried to dismiss the notion, doing his best toconvince himself it didn’t matter. Except forthe fact that, somehow, it did.

Five Over the next two weeks, Gabby be-came an expert in making a covert entry andexit, at least when it came to her house. She had no other choice. What on earthcould she say to Travis? She’d made a fool ofherself, and he’d compounded the matter bybeing so forgiving, which obviously meantthat coming and going required a new set ofrules, one in which avoidance was Rule #1.Her only saving grace—the only positivething to come out of the whole experi-ence—was that she’d apologized in his office.

127/571 It was getting harder to keep it up,though. At first, all she’d had to do was parkher car in the garage, but now that Molly wasgetting close to her due date, Gabby had tostart parking in the driveway so Molly couldnest. Which meant that Gabby thenceforthhad to come and go when she was certainTravis wasn’t around. She’d come down on the fifty-year limit,though; now, she figured a couple of monthsor maybe half a year would suffice. Whateveramount of time seemed long enough for himto forget, or at least diminish the memory of,the way she’d acted. She knew that time hada funny way of dimming the edges of realityuntil only something blurry remained, andwhen that happened, she’d go back to a morenormal routine. She’d start small—a wavehere or there as she got in the car, maybe awave from her back deck if they happened tosee each other—and they’d go on from there.In time, she figured they’d be fine—maybe

128/571they’d even share a laugh someday at theway they’d met—but until then, she preferredto live like a spy. She’d had to learn Travis’s schedule, ofcourse. It wasn’t hard—a quick peek at theclock when he was about to pull out in themorning while she watched from her kit-chen. Returning home from work was eveneasier; he was usually out on the boat or theJet Ski by the time she arrived, but on thedownside, that made the evenings the worstproblem of all. Because he was out there, shehad to stay in here, no matter how gloriousthe sunset, and unless she went over to Kev-in’s, she’d find herself studying the astro-nomy book, the one she’d purchased inhopes of impressing Kevin while they didsome stargazing. Which, unfortunately,hadn’t happened yet. She supposed she could have been moregrown up about the whole thing, but she hadthe funny feeling that if she came face-to-

129/571face with Travis, she’d find herself remem-bering instead of listening, and the last thingshe wanted was to make an even worse im-pression than she already had. Besides, shehad other things on her mind. Kevin, for one. Most evenings, he swungby for a little while, and he’d even stayedover last weekend, after his customary roundof golf, of course. Kevin adored golf. They’dalso gone out to three dinners and twomovies and had spent part of Sunday after-noon at the beach, and a couple of days ago,while sitting on the couch, he’d slipped offher shoes while they were sipping wine. “What are you doing?” “I figured you’d like your feet rubbed. I’llbet they’re sore after spending all daystanding.” “I should rinse them off first.” “I don’t care if they’re clean. And besides,I like to look at your toes. You’ve got cutetoes.”

130/571 “You don’t have a secret foot fetish, doyou?” “Not at all. Well, I’m crazy about yourfeet,” he said, beginning to tickle them, andshe tugged her foot away, laughing. A mo-ment later, they were kissing passionately,and when he lay beside her afterward, hetold her how much he loved her. By the wayhe was talking, she kind of got the impres-sion that she should consider moving in withhim. Which was good. It was the closest he’dcome to talking about their future, but . . . But what? That’s what it always camedown to, wasn’t it? Was living together a steptoward the future or just a way to continuethe present? Did she really need him to pro-pose? She thought about it. Well . . . yes. Butnot until he was ready. Which led, of course,to questions that had begun to creep into herthoughts whenever they were together:When would he be ready? Would he ever be

131/571ready? And, of course, Why wasn’t he readyto marry her? Was it wrong to want to get married in-stead of simply live with him? Lord knowsshe wasn’t even sure about that anymore. It’slike some people grew up knowing they’d bemarried by a certain age, and it happenedjust the way they planned; others knew theywouldn’t for a while and moved in with theones they loved, and that worked fine, too.Sometimes, she felt she was the only onewithout a clear plan; for her, marriage hadalways been a vague idea, something thatwould just . . . happen. And it would. Right? Thinking about this stuff gave her a head-ache. What she really wanted to do was sitoutside on the deck with a glass of wine andforget everything for a while. But TravisParker was on his back deck, flippingthrough a magazine, and that just wouldn’tdo. So she was stuck inside on a Thursdaynight again.

132/571 She wished Kevin weren’t working late sothey could do something together. He had alate meeting with a dentist who was openingan office and thus needed all sorts of insur-ance. That wasn’t so bad—she knew he wasdedicated to building the business—but hewas heading off with his dad to Myrtle Beachfor a convention first thing in the morning,and she wouldn’t have a chance to see himuntil next Wednesday, which meant she’dhave to spend even more time cooped up likea chicken. Kevin’s dad had started one of thelargest insurance brokerages in easternNorth Carolina, and Kevin was taking onmore responsibility with every passing yearat their office in Morehead City while his dadedged closer to retirement. Sometimes shewondered what that must have beenlike—having a career path already chartedfrom the time he could walk—but she sup-posed there were worse things, especiallysince the business was successful. Despite

133/571the whiff of nepotism, it wasn’t as if Kevindidn’t earn his way; his dad spent fewer thantwenty hours a week in the office these days,which usually left Kevin working closer tosixty. With almost thirty employees, man-agement problems were endless, but Kevinhad a knack for dealing with people. At least,that’s what a few of them had told her at thecompany Christmas party both times she’dgone. Yes, she was proud of him, but it still lefther stuck inside on nights like this, whichseemed like a waste. Maybe she should justhead over to Atlantic Beach, where she coulddrink a glass of wine and watch the sun godown. For a moment, she considered doingjust that. Then she decided against it. It wasokay to be alone at home, but the thought ofdrinking at the beach alone made her feellike a loser. People would think she didn’thave a single friend in the world, whichwasn’t true. She had lots of friends. It just

134/571happened that none of them was within ahundred miles of here, and the realizationdidn’t make her feel much better. If she brought the dog, though . . . now,that was different. That was a perfectly or-dinary thing to do, even healthy. It had takena few days and most of the painkillers she’dhad in her medicine cabinet, but the sorenessof the first workout had finally passed. Shehadn’t returned to the Body Pump classagain—people in there were obviously mas-ochists—but she had started to keep a fairlyregular routine at the gym. For the last fewdays, anyway. She’d gone on both Mondayand Wednesday, and she was determined tomake time to go tomorrow as well. She got up from the couch and turned offthe television. Molly wasn’t around, andguessing she was in the garage, she headedthat way. The door to the garage waspropped open, and when she walked in andturned on the light, the first thing she

135/571noticed was the collection of wiggling, whin-ing furballs surrounding her. Gabby calledout to her; a moment later, however, shebegan to scream.Travis had just gone into the kitchen to pull achicken breast from the refrigerator when heheard the sudden, frantic pounding on hisdoor. “Dr. Parker? . . . Travis? . . . Are you inthere?” It took only an instant to recognize thevoice as Gabby’s. When he opened the door,her face was pale and terrified. “You’ve got to come.” Gabby gasped.“Molly’s in trouble.” Travis reacted on instinct; as Gabbybegan racing back to her house, he retrieveda medical bag from behind the passengerseat in the truck, the one he used for the oc-casional livestock call that required him totreat animals on farms. His father had

136/571always stressed the importance of keeping itfully stocked with anything he might need,and Travis had taken the message to heart.By then, Gabby was almost at her door, andshe left it open, disappearing into the house.Travis followed a moment later and spottedher in the kitchen, near the open door thatled to the garage. “She’s panting and vomiting,” she said ashe hurried to her side. “And . . . something’shanging out of her.” Travis took in the sceneinstantly, recognizing the prolapsed uterusand hoping he wasn’t too late. “Let me wash my hands,” he said quickly.He scrubbed his hands briskly at the kitchensink, going on as he scrubbed: “Is there anyway you can get some more light in there?Like a lamp or something?” “Aren’t you going to bring her into theclinic?” “Probably,” he said, keeping his voicelevel. “But not this instant. I want to try

137/571something first. And I do need a light, okay?Can you do that for me?” “Yeah, yeah . . . of course.” She vanishedfrom the kitchen, returning a moment laterwith a lamp. “Is she going to be okay?” “I’ll know in a couple of minutes how ser-ious it is.” Holding up his hands like a sur-geon, he nodded toward the bag on the floor.“Could you bring that in for me, too? Justput the bag over there and find a place toplug in the lamp. As close to Molly as youcan get, okay?” “Okay,” she said, trying not to panic. Travis approached the dog carefully asGabby plugged in the light, noting with somerelief that Molly was conscious. He couldhear her whimpering, which was normal in asituation like this. Next, he focused on thetubular mass that protruded from her vulvaand looked over at the puppies, fairly certainthat whelping had occurred within the last

138/571half hour, which was good, he thought. Lesschance of necrosis . . . “What now?” she asked. “Just hold her and whisper to her. I needyou to help keep her calm.” When Gabby was in place, Travis squat-ted next to the dog, listening as Gabby mur-mured and whispered to her, their facesclose together. Molly’s tongue lapped out,another good sign. He gently checked theuterus, and Molly twitched slightly. “What’s wrong with her?” “It’s a uterine prolapse. It means thatpart of the uterus has turned inside out, andit’s protruding.” He felt the uterus, turning itgently to see if there were any ruptures ornecrotic areas. “Were there any problemswith the whelping?” “I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t evenknow it was happening. She’s going to beokay, right?”

139/571 Focused on the uterus, he didn’t answer.“Reach into the bag,” he said. “There shouldbe some saline. And I’ll need the jelly, too.” “What are you going to do?” “I need to clean the uterus, and then I’mjust going to manipulate it a bit. I want to tryto manually reduce it, and if we’re lucky, it’llcontract back in on its own. If not, I’ll have tobring her in for surgery. I’d rather avoid thatif at all possible.” Gabby found the saline and the jelly andhanded them over. Travis rinsed the uterus,then rinsed it two more times before reach-ing for the lubricating jelly, hoping it wouldwork.Gabby couldn’t bear to watch, so she concen-trated on Molly, her mouth close to Molly’sear as she whispered over and over what agood dog she was. Travis stayed quiet, hishand moving rhythmically over the uterus.

140/571 She didn’t know how long they were inthe garage—it could have been ten minutesor it could have been an hour—but finally,she saw Travis lean back, as if trying to re-lieve the tension in his shoulders. It was thenshe noticed that his hands were free. “Is it over?” she ventured. “Is she allright?” “Yes and no,” he said. “Her uterus is backin place, and it seemed to contract withoutany problems, but she needs to go to theclinic. She’s going to need to take it easy for acouple of days while she gets her strengthback, and she’ll need some antibiotics andfluids. I’ll have to do an X-ray as well. But ifthere are no further complications, sheshould be good as new. What I’m going to donow is back my truck up to the garage. I’vegot some old blankets she can lie on.” “And it won’t . . . fall back out?” “It shouldn’t. Like I said, it contractednormally.”

141/571 “What about the puppies?” “We’ll bring them. They need to be withtheir mama.” “And that won’t hurt her?” “It shouldn’t. But that’s why she needsfluids. So the puppies can nurse.” Gabby felt her shoulders relax; she hadn’trealized how tense they’d become. For thefirst time, she smiled. “I don’t know how tothank you,” she said. “You just did.”After cleaning up, Travis carefully loadedMolly into the truck while Gabby startedwith the puppies. Once all six were settled,Travis repacked the bag and tossed it ontothe front seat. He walked around the truckand opened the driver’s-side door. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” he said. “I’m coming.” “It would be better if she got some rest,and if you’re in the room, that might not

142/571happen. She needs to recover. Don’tworry—I’ll take good care of her. I’ll be withher all night. You have my word on that.” She hesitated. “Are you sure?” “She’ll be fine. I promise.” She considered what he’d said, thenoffered a tremulous smile. “You know, in myline of work, we’re taught never to promiseanything. We’re told to say that we’ll do ourbest.” “Would you feel better if I didn’tpromise?” “No. But I still think I should come withyou.” “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” “Yes. But so do you.” “True, but this is my job. It’s what I do.And besides, I have a cot. If you came, you’dhave to sleep on the floor.” “You mean you wouldn’t give me thecot?”

143/571 He climbed into the truck. “I suppose Icould if I had to,” he said, grinning. “But I’mconcerned about what your boyfriend wouldthink if you and I spent the night together.” “How did you know I have a boyfriend?” He reached for the door. “I didn’t,” hesaid, sounding faintly disappointed. Then hesmiled, recovering. “Let me bring her in,okay? And call me tomorrow. I’ll let youknow how it went.” “Yeah,” she relented. “Okay.” Travis closed the door, and she heard theengine rattle to a start. He leaned out thewindow. “Don’t worry,” he said again. “She’sgoing to be fine.” He eased toward the road, then turnedleft. In the distance, he waved at her out thewindow. Gabby waved in return, though sheknew he couldn’t see it, watching the redlights fade as they rounded the corner. After he left, Gabby wandered to the bed-room and stood in front of the bureau. She’d

144/571always known she’d never be the type to stoptraffic, but for the first time in ages, shefound herself staring into the mirror andwondering what someone besides Kevinthought when he saw her. Despite her exhaustion and unruly hair,she didn’t look as bad as she feared. Thethought pleased her, though she wasn’t surewhy. Unaccountably, she recalled the disap-pointment on Travis’s face when she’d toldhim about her boyfriend, and she flushed. Itwasn’t as if she felt any differently towardKevin. . . . She’d certainly been wrong about TravisParker, wrong about everything from the be-ginning. He’d been so steady during theemergency. It still amazed her, though sheshouldn’t have been surprised. It was his job,after all, she reminded herself. With that, she decided to call Kevin. Hewas immediately sympathetic, promising tobe there within minutes.

145/571“How’re you holding up?” Kevin asked. Gabby leaned into him. His arm felt goodaround her. “Anxious, I guess.” He pulled her closer, and she could smellhim, fresh and clean, as if he’d showeredright before coming over. His hair, unkemptand windblown, made him look like a collegestudent. “I’m glad your neighbor was there,” hesaid. “Travis, right?” “Yeah.” She looked over. “Do you knowhim?” “Not really,” he said. “We do the insur-ance for the clinic, but that’s one of the ac-counts my dad still handles.” “I thought this was a small town and youknew everyone.” “It is. But I grew up in Morehead City,and as a kid, I didn’t hang out with anyonefrom Beaufort. Besides, I think he’s a fewyears older than me. He was probably off tocollege by the time I started high school.”

146/571 She nodded. In the silence, her thoughtscircled back to Travis, his serious expressionas he worked on Molly, the quiet assurancein his voice as he explained what was wrong.In the silence, she felt a vague current ofguilt, and she leaned in to nuzzle Kevin’sneck. Kevin stroked her shoulder, his touchcomforting in its familiarity. “I’m glad youcame over,” she whispered. “I really neededyou here tonight.” He kissed her hair. “Where else would Ibe?” “I know, but you had that meeting, andyou’re leaving early tomorrow.” “No big deal. It’s just a convention. It’lltake me ten minutes to pack, tops. I just wishI could have gotten here sooner.” “You probably would have been grossedout.” “Probably. But I still feel bad.” “Don’t. There’s no reason to.”

147/571 He stroked her hair. “Do you want me topostpone my trip? I’m sure my dad wouldunderstand if I stay around here tomorrow.” “No, that’s okay. I’ve got to workanyway.” “You sure?” “Yeah,” she said. “But thanks for asking.That means a lot to me.”

Six After finding his son crashed on thecot and a dog in the recovery room, MaxParker listened as Travis explained what hadhappened. Max filled two cups with coffeeand brought them both to the table. “Not bad for your first time,” Max said.With his white hair and bushy white eye-brows, he was the picture of a well-likedsmall-town veterinarian. “Have you ever treated a dog for it?” “Never,” Max admitted. “Treated a horseonce, though. You know how rare it is. Mollyseems to be doing fine now. She sat up and

149/571wagged her tail when I came in this morning.How late were you up with her?” Travis sipped the coffee with gratitude.“Most of the night. I wanted to make sure itdidn’t recur.” “It usually doesn’t,” he said. “It’s a goodthing you were there. Have you called theowner yet?” “No. But I will.” He wiped his face. “Man,I’m exhausted.” “Why don’t you go get some sleep? I canhandle things here, and I’ll keep an eye onMolly.” “I don’t want to put you out.” “You’re not,” Max said with a grin. “Don’tyou remember? You’re not supposed to behere. It’s Friday.”A few minutes later, after checking in onMolly, Travis pulled into his driveway andgot out of the car. He stretched his armsoverhead, then headed over to Gabby’s place.

150/571As he crossed her driveway, he saw the news-paper poking out of the box and, after a briefhesitation, pulled it out. On her porch a mo-ment later, he was just about to knock whenhe heard the sound of approaching footstepsand the door swung open. Gabbystraightened, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey . . . ,” she said, letting go of thedoor. “I was just thinking that I should callyou.” Though barefoot, she was dressed inslacks and an off-white blouse, her hairfastened loosely by an ivory clip. He notedagain how attractive she was, but today itstruck him that her appeal lay more in anunfeigned openness than conventional goodlooks. She just seemed so . . . real. “Since I wason my way home, I thought I’d let you knowin person. Molly’s doing fine.” “You’re sure?”