Kissed By The Country Doc

Mitch cut his way through the crowd and ran his hands around the dog’s neck. “I saw this guy outside earlier. He wouldn’t come to me and he doesn’t have a collar.”

Most of the kids drifted back to the counter and their food.

Laurel had recovered enough from being carsick to get up and go over to pet the dog. “He might be microchipped.”

“Not likely if he don’t have a collar.” Roy sat down by the fire and whistled for the dog. “We’ve had folks dump pets out here before. Sad way to treat a member of the family.”

Ella’s compassion for the dog increased.

“Woof.” Penny’s eyes were huge. She’d never seen such a large dog before.

The dog heard Penny and wagged his big tail, but he didn’t move from his position in Noah’s lap.

“Come on, boy.” Roy whistled again, slapping his thin thighs. “Dogs love me.”

The dog wasn’t budging from Noah.

“Maybe he’s deaf,” Roy said brightly. He had the kind of attitude that nothing could bring down, not even a blizzard.

The dog turned his head to smile at Roy.

“He’s made up his mind.” Roy stood. “Dogs have a way of choosing people and he seems to have chosen you, Doc.”

Noah sighed and stared into the dog’s big brown eyes. “Are we really going to do this?”

The dog bumped his big nose against Noah’s chin, making all the children laugh.

Noah ran his gloved hands over the dog’s torso and down each of his front legs. And then he ran his hand down the leg the dog held off the ground.

The poor boy yelped and somehow—big as he was—managed to climb completely into Noah’s lap.

“Best take him to your clinic,” Roy said. “He might need surgery.”

Noah blanched.

“While you take care of the dog, Noah, I’ll check in our guests.” Mitch gestured that they should follow him, which was easier said than done. Everyone had to bundle up first.

Shane drove the SUV two businesses down from the diner and parked, while Laurel, Sophie and Ella ushered the kids along the shoveled walk.

The diner, the general store, with its two gas pumps and a single-bay garage, and the inn had all been built along the river and had enough space between the two-lane highway and the buildings for a vehicle to pull in and park perpendicular to the road. There was a narrow sidewalk from one building to another covered by a slanted roof to offer some protection against the elements, although not the cold.

There were small log-cabin houses up and down the highway, many of which looked forlorn and deserted. There were many buildings on the other side of the road, both new and old. A huge log cabin sat on the corner and butted against another small highway, across from which was a small church and a building with a cupola and bell.

Ella didn’t relish doing a market assessment with so many buildings spread out and heavy snow in the forecast. Would she have to shovel her way to every door?

The icy wind blew strong enough to chafe Ella’s cheeks and sweep Penny’s feet out from under her.

Ella kept her daughter upright but shrugged deeper into her stadium jacket. “I hate cold.”

“You should come live near me in Southern California.” Laurel wrapped her thin leather jacket tighter around her chest. “Since you have to move.”

“Don’t take her away from me,” Sophie countered. “I’m determined to get a job at the museum in downtown Philadelphia.” Sophie had been the Monroes’ art-collection curator.

Yes, the collection was so large it needed a manager.

“Cold, Mom.” Penny raised her arms to be lifted into Ella’s.

They hurried past the garage and then climbed the stairs onto the wood porch, which spanned the length of the inn, and went inside.

The Lodgepole Inn was a long, two-story log cabin wedged between the highway and a bend in the river. The logs used to build the cabin hadn’t been planed. Their curving girth took an extra foot off the interior on every exterior wall, making the large space seem cozier somehow.

“How big is this place?” Ella asked while Mitch checked her in.

“The Lodgepole Inn has ten rooms upstairs and two suites downstairs.” Mitch had thick black hair and a cautious smile, one that you didn’t usually find in politicians or innkeepers. He swiped Ella’s credit card and returned it to her. “My daughter and I run the place.”

Penny and her cousins ran around the great room, which had a comfy couch covered in a blue-and-brown quilt, several high-backed chairs, a large TV on the wall and a big rock fireplace, the kind pioneers used to cook in but with hearth seats built into either side. The kids squealed and released pent-up energy from hours spent on a plane and in a vehicle.

“How charming,” Sophie said, giving herself a tour of the main room.

“Our inn used to be a brothel for the miners.” A preteen girl with pale strawberry blond hair, braces and her father’s cautious smile handed Ella a metal key attached to a thin strip of wood that had the words Blue Bonnet carved in it.

“Gabby,” Mitch gently chastised. “That’s not the way we market the Lodgepole Inn.”

The preteen shrugged. “I did a paper on the history of the town.”

“We don’t know for sure it was a brothel,” Mitch said apologetically, as if it might matter to the Monroes. “Some people say it was a barracks for the cavalry. I can tell from the architecture it was originally two large, two-story cabins with a stable in between. You’ll see several different types of cabins in town—round-log, square-log and brick.”

“Our round-log inn was a brothel.” Gabby frowned at her father. “I even footnoted it in my report.”

“I’d like to read it.” Ella’s interest was sincere. History added value to property. The information the lawyer had given her included when structures were built and what their exterior dimensions were, but not much else.

Mitch’s smile hardened at her request. “Ella, if you need anything let us know.” He waved a hand toward the stairs, which were made of pine and had a rustic lodgepole-pine railing.

“What we’d like to know,” Shane said, handing over his credit card, “is why my grandfather purchased this town.”

“Gabby, go get Shane the key to Sawtooth.” Mitch waited until his daughter disappeared into the back room. “He didn’t tell you?”

Shane shook his head.

“I don’t know,” Mitch said, not entirely believably.

“Really?” Shane rubbed his jaw and considered the innkeeper. “He bought this place from you a decade ago. You signed a lease for one dollar a year. You’re telling me that somewhere along the line you didn’t ask my grandfather why he was interested in your property?”

“You’re facing a dead end.” Gabby returned, placing the key and wooden key ring on the counter. “That’s about as much as I’ve gotten out of him.”

Mitch frowned. “Gabby, what have I told you about adult conversations?”

“I’m just trying to take on more responsibility in the family business, like you asked.” The preteen held up her hands. “I guess you don’t need help with check-in.”