Chapter one
“Easy Sophie.” Despite Teagan’s slow movements, the cat hissed and backed into the further corner of the cattery. “I think you have babies coming so you’re going to have to let me touch you eventually.” She stroked her own belly.
Her barn was eerily dark and quiet. Wind rattled the old square window above the cattery. In the distance, black thunderheads swirled closer pushed by the wind. Flashes of lighting arched between the ominous clouds.
“You feel that storm.” She spoke to the animals. “April storms are angry, but they move through quickly.” She checked all her critters. Although many standing stalls and box stalls were currently empty, her present residents in their runs were fed and content. The rooster perched on the pig’s back. Sophie, her newest addition, was still curled in the far corner. And poor Rusty, her abused rescue, still had no hair growing back and was still wary of any sharp movement.
Her place wasn’t as large as her old vet’s office nor as large as Eric’s Rescue; it was all she had right now. She loved working with animals, but Corona 19 and her breakup with Eric had disturbed her lifestyle. Pushing aside the memories of the terrible break-up with Eric, she walked past empty stalls along the wall, and closed the door to the single box stall in the corner. Everything was locked down to protect the animals.
The storm broke with a tremendous crash of thunder and flash of lighting that lit up the barn. Sheets of rain beat on the metal roof and ran down the windows. She flipped up her hoodie and opened the door.
A wet, wild-eyed man burst out of the woods carrying a matted, rust-colored dog. The man’s agitation coupled with the lightning slashing the sky behind him dredged up an opening of a Stephen King novels rather than her reality. She picked up the closest shovel and waved it before her. “Stop! No closer!”
“I need your car. Get to a vet.” He pleaded and he still stepped closer.
“No! Stop! Now!” Using her big-animal voice, Teagan commanded, and he stopped ten feet from her driveway in the field which paralleled her house.
“I know six feet distance, but please,” He held up his dog. “She needs a vet. Car crash.” His hand rubbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. “Please.” The last came out as a whisper as he dropped to his knees.
She inched out. “You can’t come closer to me. I’m quarantined.” She reached for the dog. “I am a vet tech. Put the dog down. Back away.”
A branch protruded from the animal’s foreleg and matted blood congealed in its fur. She scooped the dog into her arms. The man remained on his knees.
“You ok, can you get up?”
He wavered on his knees looking at her as though he had just awakened. He pressed his fingers into the side of his forehead. The dog’s insistent whine propelled him to his feet. “Need to get Brandy to a vet.”
Was he drunk? He said he had an accident. How far had he come and from which direction?
“My car has a flat.” She nodded toward the barn. “I’m a vet tech. Let’s go in there and I can examine her. “
“Take care of Brandy.” He followed her.
Teagan tapped the stall door. “Wait in there. Because of virus, I may be infected.” She lingered until he moved inside then locked the door behind him. “It’s used as isolation for the animals. I’ll bring her back soon.”
Locking him a bare room she used for animals wasn’t the best thing to do, but he was safer away from her. She didn’t know yet if she were infected and she knew nothing about him and what had happened. They were both safer if he stayed in the stall. The rules for 2020 had upended lifestyles.
She carried the dog to her small clinic at the back of the barn, past the stalls and cattery. She quickly ran her hands along the quiet, patient dog. The bleeding had slowed. No arteries had been cut. Even though the stick had not injured anything vital, the depth of the dog’s wound could trigger infection that would make any running or moving difficult.
Keeping her hand on the dog’s neck, she reached behind for supplies. She only had a bare minimum. Grabbing supplies wasn’t on her mind when she fled Eric’s Pet Rescue. Who thought clearly during the initial isolation and shutdowns? Who knew to be prepared for the new reality?
“Easy little lady,” Teagan crooned as she injected the shot to quiet the dog so she could stitch her up. When she had worked at a vet’s office, her role was after care not stitching up.
“Easy,” She closed the wound then wrapped it with extra padding which added cushion which help the dog to walk. “Ok baby, all better.” She texted Pete, her EMT friend, hoping he was on duty and could help.
His reply was quick: Lakeside bridge collapsed. Can’t risk ambulance or anything else. Sit tight.
Ok then. On my own. She dropped sharp scissors inside the side pocket on her leg and carried the dog to its owner.
No sounds from the man in the next room. Had he realized he was in a barn? Hercules, her Great Dane, stood in the entrance of the standing stall. The man sat on a hay bale, with his head in his hands, staring the straw floor.
Wrapping the dog in a soft blanket, she carried her to the door. “Your dog is okay. Sorry I shouldn’t have locked you in here. Are you hurt as well?”
He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips.
“I cared for your dog. Has antibiotics.”
He stared as though he didn’t understand. “Vet tech.” The man muttered.
“Do you know where you are?”
He massaged his temples. “Brandy and I hiked in Lakeside Reserve.” Each word was uttered deliberately. “Car accident.” He glanced around wildly, then froze. “Where’s Brandy?”
She cringed. Fresh blood saturated his collar as well as the front of his shirt. Damn. She hadn’t thought of his injuries, only the dog’s. “Do you know…what is your name?”
A long pause before he uttered, “Benjamin Kwani Cornish.” He rose unsteadily. He was lean and muscular with long arms. “I …have license, cards. I am physical therapist…” Ben patted his back pocket and jammed his fingers in the front pocket of his shirt. “Wallet, cards, phone, everything important in Jeep…except Brandy.” He patted her head. “Is she ok?”
“Can you…Do you remember what happened?”
He touched the back of his head and winced. “Just gotten in my Jeep heading out because of the storm. Tree fell. Think lightning hit it. Tree crashed into my vehicle. Half the canvas ripped. A pine plunged down between us.”
“Tree hit you?” He wasn’t drunk. Both he and his dog were injured.
Ben blinked. “Don’t know…heard her. Yelping. Saw her blood….”
“ I bandaged her leg in a little stump so she can get around.” She placed the dog inside the door and backed away noting fresher blood on the man’s shoulder and a long gash on the back of his head.
He nodded with each statement. “Tell me your name again.”
“Teagan O’Rourke. This is a small pet rescue.”
“Your car has a flat tire.” Ben squinted and again rubbed his forehead.
“Yes.” Why had he remembered only that detail? “How’s your head feel? You have a gash at the back. It needs tending.”
His fingers probed. He grimaced. “Stitch up people, too?”
She shook her head. “No, but I do have a butterfly bandage which should help that.” She unlocked the stall door. “There’s a room inside where you can stay tonight. We’ll fix up that gash.” No other visible cuts on him, but his forgetfulness and repeating phrases were bad signs.
A flash of lightning lit up the barn and loud rumble shook the windows. “Guess we can’t walk out to road.” he said.
“Bridge is blocked. EMT’s can’t get down.” She tapped her leg and Hercules rose beside her. “Give me a minute to set up the room with an air mattress and camping table. The isolation room will work for the two of you tonight.”
“Thanks. I…” Ben studied the ground in front of him. “I …am exhibiting concussion symptoms. I don’t remember what happened for parts of the crash. I have a headache.”
“I’ll check on you, make sure you are coherent.” She backed away to the door. “Give me few minutes to set up.” She paused in the doorway. “Please stay here. Don’t want you wandering and getting lost.”
Prickles rose on the back of her neck. Tonight, highlighted just another 2020 moment. Nothing was normal. Storms, a stranger and Corona 19.
She dragged air mattress and camping blow-up end table into her isolation room. Certainly, this was not what she had expected when she reconstructed her screen porch and created a washable, multi-purpose room to temporarily house injured or ill animals. Built in cabinets recessed in the wall contained leads, harnesses, meds and an embedded large hook to safely secure large animals. An outside door led to a small fenced in paddock. Another door opened to a small, functional bathroom for her use. Three windows filled the inside wall. Her creation worked when animals occupied the isolation room. She could peer in and check on the animals from her own hallway. Not sure if it will work with a very live, vibrant human staying there.
On the inside wall, a large plexiglass door and a series of windows gave her full view of the room from the hallway of her house. The room hadn’t had much use yet, but it would keep her visiting man safely behind its doors.
It wasn’t a Grade A Bed and Breakfast, but it would do. Teagan added towels, water and a blanket. Ok then. Get the man.
The stall was open, and he stood in middle of the corridor. “Quite a setup. Several animals. Surgical room.”
She gripped the door and tried to calm her pounding heart. She had no knowledge about this guy except that he and his dog needed help. Trusting a stranger just because she liked his dog might not be wise. She had Herc and her scissors.
“By the way, I didn’t take any sharp objects.” He lifted his chin. “I am upright guy.” He nodded toward her marbled Great Dane. “Besides your giant dog stuck by my side.”
“His name is Hercules. He’s checking on you. He’ll relax…” Teagan said.
“If he finds me acceptable…”
She motioned for him to follow but kept a safe distance ahead. She pulled her jacket closer and tapped her pocket. Scissors were still there. Inside, she pointed to the isolation room. “Your spot.” She locked the door behind him. “We can talk through the windows.”
He touched the bed cover, then wandered around the perimeter of the room.
“We need to clean up your wound and use a butterfly bandage…”
Facing her, dark brows frowning was his only visible expression above the mask. “How?”
She reached for the first aid kit on the wall beside the door. She opened the top half of the plexiglass door of the isolation room. “Back up. Keep your mask tight.” She cleansed the wound and closed with butterfly bandage and stepped back. “Ok.”
He ambled to the bed as she shut the door. “Deft, sure fingers. Gentle. You must be great with animals. Shows.”
His face was hidden, but the darkness of his skin and the mask hiding his face intensified large dark eyes which now connected with her.
She backed up to break the intensity. “Have to check on both of you.” She washed her hands with disinfectant then wiped the front of first aid kit. She pointed to the door on right side of back wall. “Through there is a shower, toilet and sink. Towels and soap, and a toothbrush are in top drawer of that.” She pointed to an inflatable dresser. “You’ll find a beach towel and blanket to wrap up in. The other door leads to a small paddock, but if you get too close to the fence a buzzer goes off.”
“I’m locked in here.”
She nodded. “With a possible concussion, I can’t have you wander around. And with my possible Corona virus infection, you can’t be in the house. This is my isolation room. If an animal had surgery or is wounded, I keep them in here so I can check during the night.”
He ran his fingers along the door frame. “Interesting room. You can hose this down, couldn’t you?”
“Yes, I can easily disinfect it quickly. It was a porch, just reconstructed to meet my needs.”
“Any other inhabitant lived here?”
“Only a llama. And he only stayed for four hours.”
“A llama?” Laughter erupted from deep inside his chest and filled the room.
Okay, so her lifestyle was odd to others. “If you need anything, just tap on the door.”
“Or go touch the fence.” Laughter in his voice encouraged her.
“Yeah. Either. Night.”
“Thank you.” He sank onto the bed. “Very kind of you to do this.”
She moved down the hall to her room with Herc tight on her heels. Just another animal in her ISO room. Except this one was a very masculine animal…who laughed.
Laughter was always good.
She awoke instantly straining to hear movement from the dog or the man in the isolation room. Nothing. Silence except for restless movements from Hercules lying alert on the end of the bed. Another person in the house was unnerving.
She padded out in her bare feet and peered in the window.
He sprawled diagonally across the mattress with an open shirt revealing a dark, taut skin with lighter hairs around his navel. His breathing was regular and undisturbed. His arm hung out of the blanket and long, thin—piano fingers nearly reached the floor. Palms were smooth with little sign of outside, rough work. An odd scene yet seeing him send prickles down her spine.
She tapped on the window. “Hey, Ben. Need to get up.”
Ben leaped out of bed, stared at her, then relaxed. He automatically reached for the mask on the floor.
AND THEN AND THEN? What happens to Teagan and Ben? How do they learn about each other? Are the dogs part of the story?
This is just a taste Safe Distance. The eBook is available March 20 and the paperback April 2.
Reece Brett 