Читать книгу Cattleman's Courtship - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 10

“And how’s Uncle Alan?” Cara asked, shifting the phone to her other hand as she slowed the car down and steered it around a tight corner. Dust from the gravel road swirled in a cloud behind her.

“He’s still very tired, but the doctor says that’s normal. How are you doing?” Aunt Lori sounded tired herself.

“I’m fine, busy, but things are going well. I’m on my way to take a stick out of a horse.”

“Just another day at a vet practice,” Aunt Lori said with a small laugh. “Uncle Alan asked me to remind Anita to do the supply checklist. He thinks the clinic is running low on—”

“You tell Uncle Alan that Anita has already sent in the order and everything at the clinic is under control.” Except my driving, she thought, as she pushed the accelerator down, hoping she didn’t hit any washboard on her way to the next call.

The Chapman ranch.

The last call she’d been on had taken too long. A sheep with trouble delivering her lambs. Something that could have been dealt with at the clinic, but the woman insisted someone come out to look at it.

Then the woman wanted her to check out her dog’s gums and have a quick peek at her laying hens.

Which now meant that in spite of keeping the accelerator floored, she was twenty minutes late.

So it was easier to blame her heavily beating heart on the pressure of trying to get there on time rather than possibly seeing Nicholas again.

“But I gotta run, Aunty Lori. Tell Uncle Alan I’ll be there tonight and give him a full report of how things are going.”

“You take care, sweetie. I’ll have supper ready for you when you come.”

Cara smiled as she hung up. She was busy, sure, but there was a lot to be said for coming home after a hard day of work to supper cooking on the stove.

While she enjoyed cooking, many of her suppers back in Vancouver consisted of pizza or a bowl of cereal in front of the television. Hardly nutritious, despite the claims of the cereal manufacturers.

Cara made the last turn up the winding road leading to the ranch. She allowed herself a quick look at the mountains edging the fields. The bright spring sun turned the snowcapped peaks a brilliant white, creating a sharp relief against the achingly blue sky.

When she and Nicholas were dating, they seldom came to the ranch. This suited Cara just fine. Every time she came, she received the silent treatment from Nicholas’s father, which created a heavy discomfort. Cara knew Nicholas’s father didn’t approve of her, though she was never exactly sure why.

All she knew was each time she saw Dale he glowered at her from beneath his heavy brows and said nothing at all.

So she and Nicholas usually went to a movie, hung out at her uncle and aunt’s place or visited Nicholas’s best friend, Lorne Hughes.

So when she found out the call came from Dale Chapman, she was already dreading the visit, and running late just made it more so.

She parked the car and, as she got out, she heard Dale Chapman speaking.

She grabbed a container with the supplies she thought she might need out of the trunk of the car. Then she headed around the barn to the corrals, following the sound of Mr. Chapman’s voice.

Dale was holding the horse’s head, talking in an unfamiliar gentle tone to his horse.

Just for a moment, Cara was caught unawares. She wasn’t used to gentleness from Dale Chapman in any form.

“Good morning, Dale. Sorry I’m late.”

His cowboy hat was pulled low on his head, shading his eyes, but when he looked up, his mouth was set in grim lines.

“I came as soon as I could.” Cara knew trying to explain to him about unexpected problems with her previous case would be a waste of time.

Cara set the kit down in what seemed to be a safe place, pulled a pair of latex gloves out and slipped them on as she walked toward the horse.

She knew from the phone call that Dale had found the animal with a stick puncturing the muscles of its leg.

From here she could see the stick hanging down between his front legs. As she bent over to get a closer took, her mind skimmed frantically through her anatomy lessons, trying to picture which muscles the stick could have injured.

Watching the horse to gauge its reaction, she gently touched the leg, feeling for heat. But he didn’t flinch.

“When did this happen?” she asked, looking up at the wound. There was surprising little blood on the stick, which led her to believe it hadn’t punctured anything important.

“Um…let’s see…” Mr. Chapman hesitated, as if trying to recall.

“I found Duke this morning in the new pasture.”

The deep voice behind her reverberated across her senses. Then Nicholas crouched down beside her and she caught the scent of hay and the faintest hint of soap and aftershave.

She couldn’t stop the quick flashback to another time when she was at the ranch watching her uncle working on one of Nicholas’s horses. It was the first time she met him.

Too easily she recalled how attracted she had been to him. And when his eyes had turned to her, the feeling of instant connection that had arced between them.

And right behind that came the memory of his father, watching her with narrowed eyes. He still doesn’t like me, she thought, wondering once again why.

Not that it mattered. The way Nicholas acted around her, she was sure the son and the father were finally on the same page as far as she was concerned.

“Doesn’t look like any veins or arteries are punctured,” Cara said, gently touching the stick. It slid easily to one side. “I’m guessing it slipped between the muscles.”

Duke shifted its weight and the stick moved down a bit more.

“I’m going to pull this out, but before I do, I want to give him some anesthetic,” she said as she went back to the kit for a syringe and a needle. “How heavy is he—”

But as she spoke, Nicholas gave her the weight, as if anticipating her question.

She drew up the proper amount, pleased to see her hand held steady. She walked back to the horse but Nicholas was already at the Duke’s head, brushing the mane back, giving her a clear injection site.

“Are you sure you should just pull that stick out?” Dale’s voice said over her shoulder as she found a site for the needle. “That’s going to be trouble.”

“The stick is simply inserted between the sheaths housing the muscles. Pulling it out won’t cause more problems.”

Cara stifled her momentary irritation with Nicholas’s father. When she had worked for her uncle before, she had occasionally encountered resistance from people who didn’t think a woman was tough enough to do large animal work. And while she knew Nicholas’s father never particularly cared for her, she didn’t think that dislike extended to her capabilities as a vet.

“You haven’t been doing this for a while—”

“I’ll need a hose and water,” Cara said, interrupting his questions. “Could you get that for me, Mr. Chapman?” she asked, gently tugging on the stick.

He grumbled a moment, but left, giving Cara room to breathe.

Cara eased the stick the rest of the way out, moving more carefully than she might have with someone else’s horse, with someone else watching. She wanted to prove herself to Nicholas—to prove she wasn’t as incompetent as his father seemed to think.

The stick came out without too much exertion. It was exactly as she had said. It had slipped between the muscles and had only punctured the skin.

“Thankfully the injury isn’t major.” She stood up and held out the stick to Nicholas, who took it from her without a word.

She got a large jug of distilled water and a bottle with a squirt cap from the car.

She gently ran her hands over the wound, then, pulling apart the skin, began to rinse. “I’m just doing an initial cleaning of the wound to make sure everything is okay,” she said, intent on her task. “The rest will have to be done with a hose.”

“Won’t that be too cold?” Nicholas asked.

Cara shook her head, gently cleaning away a few bits of wood she had rinsed out of the wound. “The cold water will probably be soothing and help reduce any inflammation.”

“And it will heal on its own? You’re not going to stitch it up?”

“The wound needs to stay open so you can irrigate it. It will heal better that way.”

“Really?”

“Are you questioning my abilities, as well?” she asked, as an edge entered her voice.

“What do you mean, ‘as well’?”

Cara didn’t reply. The words had spilled out in a wave of frustration with Mr. Chapman and Nicholas, but mostly with herself for her silly reactions to their presence.

“Duke is my father’s favorite roping horse. You can’t blame him for making sure he’s being taken good care of.” Nicholas frowned at her. He seemed surprised at her anger.

And he should be. When they were dating, she never lost her temper. She had always done what was expected. Been the one to keep the peace.

Fat lot of good that had done her.

Now, despite her simmering anger, she still couldn’t break an age-old habit of avoiding confrontation, so instead of defending herself, she simply turned back to her patient and kept working.

“Here’s the hose,” Dale called out as he climbed over the corral fence. “You sure this will work?”

Cara didn’t bother to answer. She just held her hand out for the end.

“You want to be careful with the angle of the hose. You don’t want to be streaming the water directly upward into the wound,” Cara said, demonstrating what she meant. “And keep the pressure low. You don’t want to reinjure any regenerating tissue.” She handed the hose to Nicholas and straightened, easing the crick out of her back.

“How will I know when I’m done?”

“Just do it for about ten minutes at a time. You’ll also want to rinse the edges of the wound to keep it clean and to prevent it from scabbing over.”

“It will never grow together.” Dale planted his hands on his hips as if challenging her expertise. “You’ll need to stitch it.”

“I’ve seen a horse with a foot-long gash in its side that healed up on its own,” Cara replied. “It’s quite surprising how the body heals.”

Dale didn’t reply, and Cara hoped he was finished questioning and doubting her abilities.

She crouched down again, getting a closer look at what Nicholas was doing.

“Just keep doing that,” she said, gently prying aside the skin. “I don’t see any more bits of wood coming out and the water is running clean, so I think the bleeding has gone down.”

She gently ran her hands down the leg, to double-check. “I’ll give him some long-acting penicillin and I think that’s all I need to do.”

Nicholas stayed where he was and shot her a quick glance. As soon as their eyes met, she felt a lightness in her chest, as if someone had pulled her breath away. Stop. Stop.

She caught her breath again, wishing her heart would settle down. How would she last until Gordon Moen, the new vet, came if a few glances from Nicholas could create such a strong reaction?

Cara closed the kit, latched it shut and drew a long, steadying breath, thankful she was just about done. “Do you have any more questions?”

Nicholas held her gaze and she saw a question in his eyes. It seemed as if he was going to say something, but then he drew back and shook his head. “If I do, I guess I can call the clinic.”

She nodded, then turned away, surprised at a little flare of disappointment.

When she got to her car she was dismayed to see that Mr. Chapman had followed her.

“So you’re all done?” he asked, staring at her from beneath his cowboy hat.

“The wound is clear and it looks like it should heal up just fine. I’ll come by next week to double-check if I have time.” Cara kept her tone professional. Detached, even, as she wondered why Dale had followed her.

Dale folded his arms over his chest, frowning. “He’s over you, you know.” His voice was quiet, determined. “He’s started dating again.”

She shouldn’t care. Of course Nicholas would date again.

“That’s good. I’m glad for him.”

“He’s got his own plans and his own life,” he said, and though his voice had a threatening edge, as he spoke Cara caught the faintest note of desperation. Did he think she had any influence over his son’s behavior?

“Again, I’m glad for him and you,” she said, keeping her tone even. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another call to make.”

She pushed past him, her heart pounding with a variety of emotions. Frustration with Dale and her own silly reaction to Nicholas.

Too emotionally draining, she thought on the car ride back. Give it time.

She walked into the clinic and glanced at the clock as her stomach growled.

“Bill, you here?” she called out.

“He went out on a call,” Anita replied from the front of the office. Anita came to the back of the clinic where Cara was replenishing her kit, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Did he say when he’d be back?”

“He had to go to Hunt’s place and you know what a zoo that is.”

“So, not until this afternoon.” Cara sighed. Her workload just got heavier. She had a few appointments after lunch and she hoped no emergencies cropped up in the meantime.

Anita gave her an apologetic smile. “I know you’ve had a busy morning, but I have to run to the bank and deal with an overdraft. Do you mind covering the office for me?”

Cara didn’t want to, but she didn’t feel like telling Anita that. “If I get an emergency call, I’ll have to call you back,” Cara warned.

“Yeah. Sure.” Anita flashed her a smile. “You’re a dear. I’ll make it up to you sometime.”

Cara nodded as she closed the lid of the kit. Anita already owed her two lunch hours and a coffee break, but Cara wasn’t about to get fussy about collecting on them. Once Gordon arrived, her job here was done.

Then, two minutes after Anita left, the buzzer to the front door sounded.

Of course, Cara thought, wiping her hands.

Trista Elderveld stood in the foyer, holding aloft two plastic bags and a tray of coffee. Her trim suit made her look far more professional and put together than Cara knew she actually was.

“Hey, girlfriend,” Trista said with a quick grin. She put down the bags and coffee and gave her old friend a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about your uncle.”

Cara returned the hug. “Thanks. It’s so good to see you again.”

Trista pulled back and tugged at Cara’s hair. “I like the longer length. Looks romantic.”

“I was going for ‘easier to care for,’” Cara said, deflecting Trista’s loaded comment. “What do you have there?” she asked, pointing to the bags on the counter.

“Coffee and sub sandwiches from Hortons.”

Cara’s stomach groaned as she caught the scent of roasted onion. “You are a lifesaver. I just got back from a call at the Chapman ranch and thought I’d have to miss lunch.”

“Really?” Trista angled her a curious glance. “And how did that go?”

“I was working. That’s how it went.” Cara’s stomach reminded her again that she hadn’t eaten anything since the banana she gobbled down on the way to work this morning. “Why don’t we go eat in my uncle’s office so the front doesn’t smell like a deli.”

“Did you see Nicholas at all?” Trista asked as she followed Cara down the hall to the back office. “Did you talk to him? I heard he went to the hospital with you and your aunt.”

“We’re not talking about Nicholas, okay?” Cara said, keeping her tone firm, just in case Trista didn’t get the hint.

“Changing subject, now.” Trista unwrapped her sandwich. “How’s your uncle doing?”

“He wants to come home already, but the doctor wants to keep an eye on him for a while.”

“You doing okay, jumping back into large animal after treating puppies and guppies at your last job?” Trista asked with a grin.

“It’s a nice change of pace.” Cara took another bite and sighed with satisfaction. “No one makes sandwiches like Hortons. Thanks a bunch for doing this.”

“I had an ulterior motive,” Trista said, popping a pickle in her mouth. “I had stuff I needed to talk about without your aunt or uncle around. Anita told me Bill is gone on a call, so I hoped I could catch you alone.”

“Sounds mysterious,” Cara said, pushing an errant onion back between the slices of bread.

“Not so mysterious.” Trista finished her sandwich, balled up the paper and tossed it in the garbage can. “I’m getting married.”

Cara almost choked. “What? When?”

“A couple of weeks.”

This time Cara did choke. Trista bounced across the room and pounded her friend on the back.

“What’s the supersonic rush, girlfriend?” Cara gasped as she reached for her water bottle, struggling to gain her breath and composure.

Trista rubbed the side of her nose, then sighed. “Well, I’m pregnant.”

Cara almost coughed again and was about to say something when her friend held up her hand.

“Before you say anything, you need to know that this isn’t, well, wasn’t a regular thing.” Trista was blushing now and Cara was still speechless. “It just, well, happened. And we were talking about getting married anyway, so this just hurries up the process.”

Cara sat back, still trying to absorb this information.

“Lorne’s a great guy,” Trista hastened to explain. “And I know he and Mandy used to be engaged, but that was different because she never liked his parents and they never really liked her.”

Which sounded exactly like Nicholas’s father, Cara thought.

“…but I love him and I know he loves me and I know we’ll be happy together.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Cara said, wishing she could be more enthusiastic about the situation.

Trista’s smile trembled a moment and her eyes shone as if with tears. “I wish you could be happy for me. I know I’m happy in spite of how things are going.”

Cara got up and gave her dear friend a quick hug. “If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

“He will and he does,” Trista said, her eyeblink releasing a tear. She brushed it away and sniffed lightly. “I love him more than I ever thought I could love someone, and he’ll be a great husband and a fantastic dad.”

Trista’s enthusiastic defense of Lorne created a genuine smile in Cara.

Trista sniffed again, then looked back at Cara. “So now, I’m wondering how long you’re sticking around?”

Cara felt a peculiar warmth as she guessed exactly where this was going. “I guess long enough to be at your wedding.”

“So will you stand up for me at my wedding?”

Cara’s smile blossomed. “Of course. For all the times you stood up for me when I first came here and for all the times you stuck up for me, yes, my dear friend, I will stand up for you.”

Trista laughed aloud. “I’m so glad. You know your being here is an answer to prayer.” Then a horrified look crossed her features and she held her hand up. “Not that I think your uncle’s heart attack is an answer to prayer, but the fact that you’re here and that you’re not leaving and—”

“I know what you meant,” Cara said with a melancholy smile as her own emotions veered from a tinge of jealousy to genuine pleasure. “And I would be honored to be your maid of honor.”

Trista heaved a satisfied sigh. “I’m so, so glad. I know the wedding is sudden, but we both knew we wanted to get married and figured why waste time on a long engagement, which worked out perfectly because that means you’re here for the wedding and everything seems to be falling into place…and I should stop talking so much, shouldn’t I?” Trista gave a short laugh as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “You know I always talk a lot when I’m nervous and I was so worried you’d say no.”

“Why would I do that?” Cara tossed her own sandwich wrapper in the garbage can and leaned back to smile at her friend.

Trista flapped her hand, as if erasing the question. “Nothing. I’m just babbling.”

“You can stop babbling. I will do all that is in my power to be the best maid of honor ever.” Cara couldn’t stop a quick glance at the clock, figuring she could spare Trista a few more minutes. After all, they had a wedding to plan.

“What’s the first thing you need my help on?” Cara asked.

“Lorne and I decided we wanted an outdoor wedding so tomorrow night we’re checking a place out.”

“An outdoor wedding.” Cara sighed, thinking of the plans she had made. Her plan had also been an outdoor wedding on a hill overlooking the mountains on Nicholas’s ranch. “Where did you have in mind?”

Trista gave her hair another twirl. When she looked down, avoiding her gaze, a trickle of premonition chilled Cara’s neck.

“Nicholas said we could get married at the ranch.”

Her words fell like stones. No. She couldn’t plan someone else’s wedding at Nicholas’s ranch.

“And one other thing,” Trista said, clearing her throat. “Lorne asked Nicholas to be his best man.”

“Trista—”

“It’s not a setup,” Trista rushed to say. “Honestly. I knew you wouldn’t be crazy about the idea and you can turn me down if you want, but I really, really could use your help and I want you to be my bridesmaid. Though you’ve been gone for a while, you’re still my best friend. You’re the only one who gets me.” Trista sighed. “And you know how my mother is when she’s flustered. She’s no help at all and of all my high-school friends, you’re the only one I stay in touch with and the only one who is organized enough to help me out.”

Cara held Trista’s earnest gaze while her practical nature fought with her rising emotions.

Trista had been her dearest friend since she moved to Cochrane. All through college and vet school, Trista was the only one Cara kept in contact with. It was Trista who had listened to her long-distance sorrow when Cara ran away from Nicholas.

If her friend wanted her help, then Cara knew she had to get past her own problems and do this.

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. We’re meeting at the ranch.” Trista got up then gave Cara a hug. “I know this could be awkward, but hey, it’s been three years and you’re moving on, right? Like you told me?”

Cara nodded her agreement. She had to make Trista believe what she had told her all along. She was well and truly over Nicholas. “Of course I am. It will be fine.”

But as she waved goodbye, her mind slipped back to that moment in the hospital when Nicholas had stood at her side at her uncle’s bed.

Fine was too small a word to cover the emotions that could still grab her. She’d tried praying, but it was as if God, as He had before, didn’t listen. Or didn’t care.

You’ve got to take care of yourself, her mother’s voice mocked her.

And you’ve got to guard your heart, her own memories told her.