She stopped him in his
tracks. "But I want you to go into the waiting room and stay there until I come out to talk
to you." Even if he were harmless, the last thing she wanted was to be alone with him. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, yes." Walter's head bobbed up and down, much the way Mitzi's did when she
reacted to the vibrations of a song. "Thank you." His voice cracked. Before leaving the
room, he paused by the cage. "The doctor's going to take good care of you, Mitzi. She'll
make you well. I promise."
Patience deliberately moved out of the way before he could pass her, then shut the door
the second he'd crossed the threshold.
She blew out a slow, shaky breath. This had to stop. She couldn't allow herself to get
unsettled like this. What was the matter with her? The man had never even attempted to
touch her. But what had touched her were newspaper stories about other women in her
situation. Semi-formed scenarios and half-realized fears preyed on her mind. She had to
stop doing that to herself.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the unhappy cockatiel. "Okay, let's have a look
and see what's wrong with you, Mitzi."
When she walked into the reception area forty-five minutes later, several people were
waiting with their pets. Walter seemed oblivious to all of them. The second she entered,
he popped to his feet like an old-fashioned jack-in-the-box. His small eyes nearly bulged
out of his head with anticipation.
"How is she?" Crossing to her, Walter grasped her wrist, then realized what he'd
unconsciously done and released her.
"Mitzi has a cold," Patience said. "I gave her some antibiotics." She took a small container of pills out of her pocket, gingerly offering it to Walter. "See that she gets these every
six hours, chopped up in her food." She knew how fussy some birds could be. "Mix them in with her fruits and grains, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference. If there's a
problem, the medicine also comes in liquid form. Call Shirley if you need them and she'll
have some for you at the front desk. You can use an eye dropper to get them down Mitzi's
throat. Keep her warm and be sure she stays out of any cross ventilation."
Because there was no other way around it, Patience turned on her heel and led the way to
the examination room. Mitzi was in her cage, waiting for her owner.
All the while, as he'd been taking in the information, Walter's head continued to bob up
and down. "But she'll be all right?" he asked eagerly as he followed her to collect his pet.
Once on the other side of the examination table, Patience turned to face him. "If you're
faithful with her medication, she should be."
Walter made a few cooing noises at the cockatiel, who seemed to listen to them
disdainfully. "Do you want to see her for a recheck?"
Ordinarily, Patience would have said yes. She liked to keep tabs on her patients. But in
this case, the less she and the bird's owner interacted, the better off she knew her
nerves would be. "That shouldn't be necessary."
He beamed at Mitzi, very obviously relieved. "She looks better already. Must be your
healing touch."
"It was the antibiotic I gave her," Patience informed him crisply. She nodded at the
empty box that had contained the syringe she'd used. "If you forget the instructions, look
at the paper that Shirley is going to give you when you go out front again."
Inserting his finger into the cage, something she would have strongly advised against,
Walter ran it along the bird's feathers. Ill, the bird still accepted it as her due.
"I don't know how to thank you. I have nothing else in my life besides my work and Mitzi."
On her guard, Patience could have sworn she saw longing in the man's eyes. "You know,if
things had turned out differently between us—"
"Therewasnothing between us to turn out, Mr. Payne. There was never even an 'us.' Now
please, I saw you out of consideration for Mitzi's health, but I'd rather you found
tracks. "But I want you to go into the waiting room and stay there until I come out to talk
to you." Even if he were harmless, the last thing she wanted was to be alone with him. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, yes." Walter's head bobbed up and down, much the way Mitzi's did when she
reacted to the vibrations of a song. "Thank you." His voice cracked. Before leaving the
room, he paused by the cage. "The doctor's going to take good care of you, Mitzi. She'll
make you well. I promise."
Patience deliberately moved out of the way before he could pass her, then shut the door
the second he'd crossed the threshold.
She blew out a slow, shaky breath. This had to stop. She couldn't allow herself to get
unsettled like this. What was the matter with her? The man had never even attempted to
touch her. But what had touched her were newspaper stories about other women in her
situation. Semi-formed scenarios and half-realized fears preyed on her mind. She had to
stop doing that to herself.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the unhappy cockatiel. "Okay, let's have a look
and see what's wrong with you, Mitzi."
When she walked into the reception area forty-five minutes later, several people were
waiting with their pets. Walter seemed oblivious to all of them. The second she entered,
he popped to his feet like an old-fashioned jack-in-the-box. His small eyes nearly bulged
out of his head with anticipation.
"How is she?" Crossing to her, Walter grasped her wrist, then realized what he'd
unconsciously done and released her.
"Mitzi has a cold," Patience said. "I gave her some antibiotics." She took a small container of pills out of her pocket, gingerly offering it to Walter. "See that she gets these every
six hours, chopped up in her food." She knew how fussy some birds could be. "Mix them in with her fruits and grains, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference. If there's a
problem, the medicine also comes in liquid form. Call Shirley if you need them and she'll
have some for you at the front desk. You can use an eye dropper to get them down Mitzi's
throat. Keep her warm and be sure she stays out of any cross ventilation."
Because there was no other way around it, Patience turned on her heel and led the way to
the examination room. Mitzi was in her cage, waiting for her owner.
All the while, as he'd been taking in the information, Walter's head continued to bob up
and down. "But she'll be all right?" he asked eagerly as he followed her to collect his pet.
Once on the other side of the examination table, Patience turned to face him. "If you're
faithful with her medication, she should be."
Walter made a few cooing noises at the cockatiel, who seemed to listen to them
disdainfully. "Do you want to see her for a recheck?"
Ordinarily, Patience would have said yes. She liked to keep tabs on her patients. But in
this case, the less she and the bird's owner interacted, the better off she knew her
nerves would be. "That shouldn't be necessary."
He beamed at Mitzi, very obviously relieved. "She looks better already. Must be your
healing touch."
"It was the antibiotic I gave her," Patience informed him crisply. She nodded at the
empty box that had contained the syringe she'd used. "If you forget the instructions, look
at the paper that Shirley is going to give you when you go out front again."
Inserting his finger into the cage, something she would have strongly advised against,
Walter ran it along the bird's feathers. Ill, the bird still accepted it as her due.
"I don't know how to thank you. I have nothing else in my life besides my work and Mitzi."
On her guard, Patience could have sworn she saw longing in the man's eyes. "You know,if
things had turned out differently between us—"
"Therewasnothing between us to turn out, Mr. Payne. There was never even an 'us.' Now
please, I saw you out of consideration for Mitzi's health, but I'd rather you found
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