Free Lois Greiman - [Hope Springs 02] by Home Fires Page A

I’ll examine her more thoroughly, but I’d be willing to bet that she’s going to need surgery.”
    Ty winced. “How much would that cost?”
    “It’s not cheap, I’m afraid.”
    The boy’s hand tightened on the frayed lead rope. His fingernails were chipped, his knuckles white. “How much?”
    The vet shook her head. “The techs usually handle that sort of thing, and they’re not in yet.” She scowled, watching Ty’s expression. “But the costs will be in the thousands for sure. It all depends on the severity of the situation, how fast she recovers, how long we keep her here. . . .” She shrugged.
    Ty’s face looked as pale as his knuckles now. “When is that money due?” he asked.
    The doctor glanced from him to Casie, expression apologetic. “We usually ask for payment at the time services are rendered.”
    The room went silent. Angel moaned low and desperate.
    “I’m sorry we can’t defer payment.” Dr. Sarah flicked her gaze from face to face. “But with the economy like it is, we’ve had a lot of clients fail to pay.”
    “I’ll get the money,” Ty said.
    All eyes turned toward him.
    “I’m a hard worker,” he said.
    Something changed in the veterinarian’s expression. She met his eyes with a quiet blend of regret and admiration. “I’m sure you are, Ty, but—”
    “And my word’s good. I just can’t . . .” He paused, tightened his fingers in Angel’s mane for a moment. His cheeks had turned red. “I just can’t pay it all right up front.”
    No one spoke. From a distant part of the building a horse nickered hopefully.
    Dr. Sarah flicked her gaze to Casie’s. Maybe she read something there; maybe she made some sort of decision on her own. Casie would never know, but she spoke again in a moment. “Listen,” Dr. Sarah said. “I have a call in to the techs, but they probably won’t be here for another half hour yet. If you can help out, I should be able to take a little off your costs, but the bill could still be upwards of eight thousand dollars.”
    Casie felt like she had been gut punched, but one glance at Ty’s wounded eyes was all she could bear. “All right,” she said. “Let’s get at it.”

C HAPTER 7
    T hree hours later they were gathered outside a roomy stall. It was bedded in fresh-smelling wood shavings and padded with rubber on the walls and floor.
    “What are her chances?” Ty asked. His face was solemn as he curled his fingers around the steel bars that separated him from the mare standing alone on the far side of the door. Her head drooped near her knees and her eyes were half closed, but she was back on her feet.
    Sophie stood a couple yards from the stall. Her face was no longer green, but it had been clear early on that despite her usual commanding presence, she would not be much help during these particular proceedings. Although her interest was obvious, she’d barely been able to assist in shaving the surgical site and catheterizing the jugular before leaving the room on wobbly knees. While Ty and Casie watched the doctors incise and empty the mare’s intestines into huge, wheeled garbage cans, Sophie had rushed outside to empty her own stomach.
    “Her chances are decent.” Turned out little Dr. Sarah didn’t pull any punches. She stood beside them, the top of her head barely reaching Casie’s nose. A spray of blood still festooned her left cheek. “As you know, there was a torsion, a twist, in the posterior portion of her ileum. It had already become somewhat necrotic. But when we removed that portion of the intestine and sutured her back up, things pinkened up nicely. Still . . .” She scowled as she glanced at the mare, who looked small and forlorn in the oversized stall. “Her age is against her. But you got her here really quickly.” Lifting her gaze, she stared at the IV that hung from the center of the ceiling and dripped steadily into the mare’s jugular. “We’ll know more in a few hours. Do you want to wait