The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie [41]
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay.” She pulled off her sweater and wrapped it around the dog and went to get the bolt. She put the bolt on the pavement and gently lifted the dog onto it as if it were a stretcher. Then she picked it up and carried it back down the block to the vet’s.
She banged on the door, and a young man in a white T-shirt and jeans answered it.
“This dog’s been hit,” she said, out of breath. “Is the vet in?”
“That’s me.” He opened the screen door.
Daisy followed him into a lab room and put the bolt on a table. She watched the vet examine the dog carefully, concerned and gentle. What a lovely man, Daisy thought. What gentle brown eyes. What warmth. You’d need warmth to be a vet. How lucky for this puppy to have this nice man to take care of him.
He looked up and caught her staring at him, and she blushed. He smiled at her.
She leaned forward, anxious about the dog. “Is he going to be all right?”
“When did he lose his eye?”
Daisy felt her heart break with sympathy. “He’s only got one eye?”
“Didn’t you know?”
“I just met him about a minute ago. Is he going to be all right? He’s just a puppy.”
“No, he’s not,” the vet said. “He’s more than a year, maybe two.”
“He’s so little.”
The vet nodded. “He’s underfed. Probably a stray, since he doesn’t have a tag. He’ll be bigger when he stands up. He’s got legs like stilts, and one of them’s broken, so he’ll limp for a while. I can splint the leg and keep him for free for a couple of days but …”
“I’ll pay for him.” Daisy nodded. “My name’s Daisy Blaise, and he’s my dog now. Just make him well again.”
“Hello, Daisy,” the vet said, and held out his hand. “I’m Art Francis.”
Daisy took it and shook it with pleasure. “Hello, Dr. Francis.”
“No.” His eyes were warm on her. “Art.”
“Art.” She was so happy about the dog that she smiled at him, her full megawatt smile, and he looked lost for a minute.
Daisy stroked the dog’s head. “I’ll take him home with me when he’s ready, but he’ll have to make friends with my cats.”
“The limp should slow him down and help him get acquainted.” Art watched her. “Come in and visit him.”
“I will.” Daisy leaned close to the dog so he could see her with his good eye. “Every day. Poor little guy.”
“Got a name for him? Or should I just write Dog Doe on his card?”
“He needs a powerful name,” Daisy said. “Like Hercules.” They both looked down at the dog doubtfully. “Or Jupiter. Jupiter is the good luck planet too. Maybe he’s my good luck.”
Art lifted an eyebrow at her. “A one-eyed crippled dog with a broken tail is good luck?”
Daisy blinked. “His tail’s broken too?”
“See that bend in it?”
“Oh, Jupiter, you poor baby.” Daisy stroked his head again.
“Jupiter is the perfect name for this dog,” Art said. “He just lucked out completely.”
“Jupiter.” Daisy looked at Art and smiled again.
“Maybe he’ll be good luck for me too,” Art said. “Come back soon, Daisy.”
I should have told him I’m getting married, Daisy thought as she carried the fabric home. Except she wasn’t really, not permanently. Only for a year. Ten months. And then …
If she married a vet, she’d have lots of animals. And he was so sweet. And so warm. And he didn’t look at her as if she were a disaster in the making.
Tomorrow I’ll tell him I’m married, she decided. It was only fair, but when she got home, she sat at the bottom of the stairs and shivered. She shouldn’t have been smiling at a vet. She was getting married. In five hours. To a cold man with chrome furniture who was constantly embarrassed by her instead of to someone warm who loved animals. This was wrong.
Julia found her there still shivering half an hour later.
“Daisy?”
“I’m scared,” she told Julia. “I’m really, really scared.”
Julia nodded. “I would be too. Come on, I have the solution.”
Linc stood by the judge and endured a friend of Chickie’s who was singing “True Love.” Chickie must have picked out the music. Daisy would have chosen