Page 56 of Vetted for Vengeance
“You could set up maternity clinics too,” I hint at my whelping package idea.
“I'll take Chief Nurse Consultant as my title if you want Head Nurse.” Tree uniform at Noah.
“I'm not a nurse,” Noah whispers.
“I have an office manager, a senior surgical nurse, a senior consultant nurse, and now an operations manager.” I push away from the sideboard I've been leaning against. “I don't care about titles; I only care that everyone is happy.”
“Thank you,” Tree sighs, a beaming smile on her face. “It felt like I was training my replacement for a while.”
“Right, Mr. Humphries, let's get the first patient ready.”
“Mr. Humphries?” he splutters.
I lean in close, my lips pressed against his ear, my hand tapping his scrubs pocket to confirm my suspicions that he's hiding puppies inside. “You can't say nipples on TV.”
I said it with the same teasing tone as he did, but the reaction is completely different. He starts blubbering.
Actual tears.
I feel a darkness cloud my mind, ready to kill whatever is upsetting him. I catch his wrist and drag him into the empty nurse's consulting room.
“Noah, what…?”
“There is too much to do,” he confesses. “Hand-rearing Bobo because he's fading. Bunny and Sunny can't get milk.” His hand gently cups the pocket where he has the sleeping runts hidden. “Figgy is in labor, and she's nervous as hell. She's been moved three times in twelve hours…”
“Stop.”
My single word halts the tears instantly, replacing his expression with one of surprise.
“When Tree organizes the morning, she thinks about coffee breaks and lunch rotas. You think about post-operative recovery times and the individual animal's welfare. She can still decide who's on days, nights, in the large animal side or branch surgeries. You decide where the scrub nurse goes, what the kennel nurse does.”
“It's too much.”
“You just need to stand still. You give the directions, you watch where progress slows, and you adjust accordingly. And you don't walk around with puppies in your pockets.”
“I can't do it all.”
“You are amazing at organizing in chaos. I struggle to adapt quickly. Tree priorities people over situations, but you put the practice first. Just like you did with the kennel. All you need to learn now is to let go of the tasks.”
“I'm not good enough,” he confesses, though I don't believe him.
“Give Chloe the puppies. Trust her to feed them hourly while she sits with Figgy. When she goes on lunch or breaks, you can replace her. You supervise, you watch, but you let her do the work.”
Noah thinks for a moment. He had been doing this successfully for the last eight years. The only difference is that before, he only had himself to delegate to.
“I'll check on Figgy,” he sighs, slipping his hand into his pocket. “And put these guys back.”
“And I'll start X-raying Ginger's leg with my scrub nurse.”
“Louise,” he glances at his board. “Can I have a hug first?”
I nod and open my arms. I can handle hugs if I can see them coming. And I give wonderful hugs.
Noah steps into them like a man who has finally stopped running. For a moment he just stands there, his forehead pressed against my shoulder, his whole body going heavy with exhaustion.
I tighten my hold on him.
“One minute,” I murmur. “Then we save the world.”
