Читать книгу Her Cowboy Dilemma - C.J. Carmichael - Страница 12

Chapter Two

Dan Farley settled his coffee cup into the holder of his truck, then wolfed down the cinnamon bun in two minutes flat. Sweet and spicy...just like Cassidy Lambert.

The little witch.

So she was back in town. Judging from all the baggage in her truck, she was done with school. Would she be staying in Coffee Creek? Or moving on? Corb had mentioned she was studying accounting and thinking of working in Billings, but that her mother had other plans.

He didn’t really care how it panned out. The little minx was trouble. And he intended to keep his distance.

For the longest time she’d been nothing but the cute younger sister of his best friends B.J., Corb and Brock. With no siblings of his own, he hadn’t really minded when she tried to tag along with them—but Brock was always looking for ways to get rid of her.

He said she talked too much. Which was true.

He complained that she tried to boss them around. Also true.

But she had redeeming characteristics, among them a soft, yet courageous heart. So many times she’d come to him and her brothers expecting them to help a baby chick that had fallen from its nest, a fawn struggling with a lame leg, a farm cat with distemper, eyes weeping from disease, matted fur over a scrawny body.

Brock and Corb would brush her off, but he’d always done what he could to save the animal.

And then Cassidy turned twenty-one and the person who needed saving was himself....

An incoming call prevented him from dredging up further unwanted memories. He pressed the button on his steering wheel to patch it through.

“Hello?”

“Farley?” It was Liz Moffat, his right-hand woman at the office. Besides being his receptionist, the thirty-three-year-old mother of four also did a pretty good job of running his private life, as well. “I just had a call from Maddie Turner.”

“I’m on my way to Coffee Creek Ranch right now.” The Lamberts’ place was only fifteen miles from Silver Creek Ranch. Maddie Turner and Olive Lambert were sisters, though they hadn’t spoken to one another in over thirty years.

“When you’re finished there, could you swing by Maddie’s place? One of her cows is having a difficult birth.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Oh, and Amber wants to know about tonight. If you think you’ll be able to make it in time for a movie.”

He wanted to say yes, but knew better. “Tell her probably not. I still have to check out the Harringtons’ lame cow.”

“Maybe things will go well at Maddie’s and you’ll be able to do both.” Liz had fixed him up with Amber and was lobbying hard for the relationship to work.

“Maybe.” But he doubted it. Maddie Turner didn’t have the head for business that her older sister did, and she’d been struggling financially for the past five years. She wouldn’t be asking for his help if the situation with her cow and unborn calf wasn’t dire.

But first he had the situation at the Lamberts’ to deal with. And maybe another chance to see Cassidy?

No. If she knew he was there, she’d avoid the barns, the way she usually did.

* * *

C ASSIDY WAS DRIVING about ten miles over the posted speed limit on the secondary road out of Coffee Creek. Plus, she was taking sips of her coffee. And nibbling on her cinnamon bun. So she couldn’t claim to be the injured party when she saw the flashing lights of a patrol car behind her five minutes after leaving town.

She pulled to the side of the road, turned off her music and waited.

Sun beat in warmly through the windshield and she could hear a meadowlark’s song drifting on the fragrant spring breeze that wafted through her open windows. Ahead of her the pavement curved and she tensed as she saw the flower wreath affixed to the simple white cross that marked the spot of the accident where Brock had died last July.

She’d been so busy thinking about Farley—and feeling unjustly hurt at his obvious disdain for her—that she’d almost passed right by the scene of Brock’s accident without noticing.

In her rearview mirror, she saw an officer step out of the patrol car. Her nervousness increased when she recognized Savannah Moody.

The last time she’d seen Savannah had been at Brock’s funeral. Savannah hadn’t stayed long, but she’d paid her respects. Now Cassidy took a deep breath as the sheriff stooped so she could look in the open window.

“Hey, Cassidy. On your way home from Bozie?” Savannah wore her long hair in a braid when she was on duty, but even without her thick chestnut hair framing her face, she was stunning. She’d been blessed with large, thickly lashed eyes and smooth olive skin that she’d inherited from her French Canadian mother.

“Yes. Just finished my exams yesterday.”

“I’m sure you’re anxious to get home, but slow down, okay? I’m not giving you a ticket this time. Just a friendly warning.”

Her gaze shifted up the road a bit, and Cassidy knew what she was thinking. Knew, too, that the warning shouldn’t have been necessary.

“You’re right. I’ll be a lot more careful in the future.” She studied the wreath again, noting that the flowers appeared fresh. “Is Maddie Turner still tending that?”

Maddie was her mother’s estranged sister. No one in the family knew the whole story behind the family feud, but they’d all grown up understanding that their mother would consider it a grand betrayal if they acknowledged their aunt by so much as a smile or a word of hello.

By the same token, none of them had understood why Maddie was being so diligent in tending Brock’s memorial tribute, until Corb took it upon himself to drive up to Silver Creek Ranch and ask her.

Apparently Brock had been in the habit of visiting their aunt every now and then and had even helped her out with some handyman work on occasion.

No one knew why he’d done this. But if any one of the Lambert kids was wont to break their parents’ rules, Brock was definitely the one.

“I guess so.” Savannah patted the side of her truck. “I’m not a fan of roadside memorials, myself. Anything that draws your eyes off the road is a potential hazard.”

“I’ll be careful,” Cassidy promised again.

“Good. Say hi to your mom for me, Cassidy. And welcome home.”

She was gone before Cassidy could tell her that this wasn’t a true homecoming. She was just going to stay a few weeks until she found out about the job she’d applied for in Billings. Her first interview had gone well. Now she was hoping for a second, soon to be followed by an offer of employment.

Josh had applied to the same accounting firm, and he felt they both stood a good chance of being hired since their marks leading up to finals had been the top of their class. Competition was tight, though, since the accounting firm was only looking for three new articling students, and at least five other members of their graduating class had applied, including the woman who’d been president of the business club.

Cassidy checked for traffic—and signs of wildlife—before pulling back onto the road. Savannah was long gone, having made a U-turn and driven off in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, Cassidy continued toward home, driving a sedate five miles per hour under the limit until she came to the fork in the road where she slowed down even further.

To the right lay Silver Creek Ranch, where Maddie still lived on the Turners’ homestead property.

The road to the left led to Coffee Creek Ranch, which had been in the Lambert family just as long as the Turners had owned theirs. Cassidy’s father had passed away years ago, and ever since then her mother, Olive, had been running the ranch—with the help of her youngest sons and Jackson. Her mother had a good head for business, and despite some ups and downs in the cattle business, she’d done very well.

One of her strategies to combat the uncertain economic times had been to diversify into breeding American quarter horses. Now the horse breeding side of their business was bringing in as much revenue as the cattle. And even more profit, according to Jackson, who was in charge of the books.

Now that she had her business degree, Cassidy suspected her mother was going to pressure her to take over the administrative side of the ranch from Jackson. She’d made it clear that she hoped Cassidy would move back home after graduation and join in the family ranching business.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Cassidy loved her mother, but it was the sort of love that did best when there were at least a hundred miles between them. And much as she loved the ranch, she thought a business career could be exciting, too. She could hardly wait to get started.

Cassidy’s tires rumbled as she drove over the cattle guard that was meant to keep Coffee Creek cattle from roaming beyond their property line. A hundred yards farther down the road, she came to the small wooden bridge that crossed over one of several unnamed creeks that ran through their property.

She drove up the final hill, then paused, looking down on the homestead that had been in her father’s side of the family since the mid-eighteen-hundreds. It was hard not to feel a sense of pride. From here she could see the white barns with their green roofs, stacks of rolled hay, sorting pens and chutes, and the neatly fenced paddocks and larger pastures. All the outbuildings had been constructed in the hollow of a wide valley, high enough that there would be no danger of flooding in the spring, but protected from the worst of the winds that came off the mountains.

The main house sat above the other buildings, backing onto a grove of pines and with a view out to Square Butte—a flat-topped mountain that dominated the skyline to the north.

Through a stand of ponderosa pines to her left, Cassidy could see glimmers of Cold Coffee Lake around which their father had built homes for all three of his sons.

Driving past the graveled turnoff to the lake and the cabins, Cassidy crossed through the main gate, with the wrought iron detailing of the double Cs that were the family brand. Her tires rumbled yet again on another cattle guard. And then she was home.

Four other vehicles were already parked in the yard. Her mother’s white SUV, Jackson’s black one, Corb’s Jeep and, of course, Farley’s charcoal-and-silver truck, with the Farley & Sons logo on the side.

Cassidy slid in next to her mother’s SUV, where she wouldn’t block any of the other vehicles. She cut off the ignition and waited to see if her arrival had been watched for.

Given the trouble Farley had described, she hadn’t been expecting a welcoming committee. Probably everyone was down at the barn with the sick horse. But there was one faithful soul waiting to greet her.

Sky, still trim and healthy-looking despite the gray flecks in her black coat, must have been sleeping on the front porch. She was sitting now, head cocked, waiting for the cue.

She’d been trained not to go near any vehicle if there were people inside. But the moment Cassidy stepped out, she came running as fast as her old hip joints would let her.

“Hey there, Sky! Oh, it’s so good to see you.” Cassidy crouched by her dog, wrapping her arms around her and burrowing her face in Sky’s sun-warmed coat.

Sky wriggled and grunted, panted and smiled, demonstrating in every way possible her extreme happiness at having Cassidy home again.

“Has Corb been taking good care of you? You sure look pretty.” Cassidy gave her dog a lot of pats and scratches, then sat up on her haunches to look around. The place was almost eerily quiet. Not even the housekeeper, placid, middle-aged Bonny, was here. Must be one of her days off.

They’d had many housekeepers over the years. Olive had exacting standards and most didn’t last more than six months or so. But Bonny was made of stern stuff and had been here almost four years now. Cassidy was glad. Besides having loads of common sense—that helped her deal with Olive—she was also an excellent cook.

Cassidy patted Sky again, wondering why her dog wasn’t up at Corb and Laurel’s cabin. When Cassidy had left for college five years ago, she’d been living in residence and unable to bring her dog with her. Poor, lonely Sky had turned to Brock for companionship, then after his death, to Corb.

Now she lived almost full-time with Corb, Laurel and Stephanie...and yet somehow she’d known to wait at the main house today. Possibly Sky had heard Cassidy’s name spoken more often than usual and had guessed she was coming home?

Cassidy didn’t put it past her. Sky was a remarkable dog. When she was younger, she’d been as useful as an extra hand at moving and herding cattle. Now she was too old to work, but she was as smart as ever.

Finally, Cassidy stood, brushing the fine gravel from her knees. She could go into the house and wait for the rest of them to join her. But she’d seen Farley at the café and the world hadn’t fallen apart. Besides, she was anxious to find out if Lucy was going to be okay.

She gave the signal for Sky to follow. “Come on, girl. Let’s head down to the barn and find out what’s going on.”

* * *

W HEN HER MOTHER decided to go into the quarter horse breeding business, they’d built a new equine barn equipped to accommodate twenty to twenty-five broodmares with a separate wing for the stallions. The family’s riding horses were pastured and boarded in a smaller, less high-tech barn, closer to the house. This barn—they called it the home barn—had also been updated at that time, including the addition of a new tack room and office, both of which Jackson had designed.

It was to the home barn that Cassidy headed now, Sky heeling obediently on her left. She was glad she didn’t need to waste any time changing. Even when going to school in the city, she’d continued to dress the way she always had: in jeans and cowboy boots. She’d grown up in Western wear, and that was how she felt most comfortable.

In fact, her main concern about going to work for an accounting firm in the city was adjusting to the suits and high-heeled pumps she knew she’d be expected to wear. She’d bought such an outfit for job interviews and so far every time she’d worn it, she’d ended up with blisters on her heels.

Voices became audible as she drew nearer to the barn. The main door was open and her mother, Corb and Jackson were watching while Farley examined the golden palomino in the first stall. Cassidy stopped in the doorway, as yet unnoticed, waiting to see what would happen.

Her mother looked trim in jeans and a pressed gingham shirt. No doubt hard work and a healthy diet had helped preserve her petite figure, but her silver-blond hair, styled in an attractive bob, was the result of regular monthly trips to the salon.

She had her hands on her slender hips as she watched over Lucky Lucy’s examination, offering Farley pointers as he worked, which were no doubt exasperating to the experienced vet.

“Be careful,” Olive said. “You don’t want to hurt her.”

No response from Farley.

“See how she’s holding her head?” Olive continued. “Low and extended? That’s not usual for her.”

Farley, who would not have needed to have this pointed out, replied calmly, “She’s probably doing that to relieve the pain in her throat and lymph nodes.”

Of the four of them, he was the only one Cassidy couldn’t see clearly because he was in the stall with the horse. Just the sound of his voice, however, made her feel nervous and excited, the same odd cocktail of emotions she’d experienced earlier in the café.

“You seen any other cases of strangles lately?” Corb asked. Her brother’s shoulders were hunched with worry, as were Jackson’s. Both men had their backs to her, until Sky came up between them.

“Hey there, girl.” Corb bent to pat the border collie’s head. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be on the porch, enjoying your retirement.”

With that, blond, green-eyed Corb looked back toward the house, and a smile slowly broke through his serious expression.

“Look who’s home. How’re you doing, Cass?”

Of all her family, Corb was Cassidy’s favorite. He was easygoing, like their father had been, with a warm smile and eyes that sparkled with good humor. With his blond hair and green eyes, he was also the brother that looked most like her. If they’d been closer in age, people probably would have taken them for twins.

He gave her a one-armed hug, pulling her up between him and Jackson.

Her foster brother had dark, brooding good looks, and a natural reserve that made him difficult to really know. But the smile he gave her now was kind and friendly. “Hey, Cassidy, good to see you.”

“You, too, Jackson.” She felt her throat tighten. “Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetheart.” Olive swooped in and gave Cassidy a hug and a kiss. “How were your exams?” Then, Olive continued without waiting for an answer, “I was saddling Lucky Lucy for a ride this morning when I spotted some nasal discharge. I don’t blame Jackson for not noticing sooner, even though the horses are now his responsibility.”

“Jackson has a lot on his hands these days besides overseeing the care of the home horses,” Corb said mildly, countering his mother’s implied criticism. “Spring is the busiest time of year for all of us and he’s had four new foals birthed this week alone. Plus he’s busy with the mare breeding program for the quarter horses.”

Cassidy admired the way Corb managed to stand up to their mother without getting upset. All her brothers—except maybe B.J.—were better at that skill than she was.

Every time she came home, she did so with the resolve that this time would be different. She wouldn’t let her mother get to her. She wouldn’t lose her cool. But neither would she let her mother derail her. She had her own plans for her own life. And that was that.

“My exams went well, Mom, but I’m sorry about Lucky Lucy. Is it strangles for sure?” She moved in closer and Farley, who’d been collecting a sample of mucus, now sealed the cotton swab into a vial.

Then he straightened. For the second time that day he took her measure.

“I’m pretty sure. She’s got some swelling around the jaw area, as well as a fever and clear nasal discharge.”

Cassidy shifted her gaze from the vet to the horse. Lucy was gorgeous, and as recently as her last visit home for Stephanie’s baby shower, had been very healthy. She patted Lucy’s flank, then moved in closer.

“Remember me, sweet thing?” she murmured. “We had a great ride together last February. ’Course there was some snow we had to contend with back then.”

As if in answer, Lucy coughed, and more discharge gathered in her nasal cavity. Cassidy glanced at Farley, hoping for reassurance. “How bad is it? Is she suffering?”

“Feel here.” Farley took her hand and guided it to a swollen area on Lucy’s neck. “Her lymph nodes are pretty enlarged. I’m sure it’s causing her pain or she wouldn’t be distending her neck like this.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Cassidy gentled her with soft strokes, trying to erase the feeling of Farley’s strong, capable hands over hers. Lucy nickered, voicing her appreciation of the extra attention.

“I’ll run a test just to be sure,” Farley said. “But for now we’d better assume that she does have strangles.”

“Crap.” Jackson sounded disgusted. “We’ll have to disinfect everything, won’t we?”

“Afraid so.” Farley kept a hand on Lucky Lucy as he walked around her, then out to the aisle. “Good thing you keep your riding horses separate from the breeders. Hopefully the quarter horses will be fine. But I’d recommend no sales or purchases until the strangles is under control.”

Olive made an impatient sound. “Is that really necessary? You said yourself, we have the two operations completely separate.”

“Just to be sure, I think it is. You’ll have to set up a quarantine area here in the barn. Watch the other horses carefully. Any of them show signs of the disease, then they’ll need to be separated, too.”

Jackson rubbed his unshaven chin. “This is going to mean a lot of extra work. Frankly me and my men are stretched to our limits right now...and Corb and his wranglers are, too.”

“Jackson’s right about that,” Corb was quick to agree. “Most of the calves have been born, but we’ve got branding and vaccinating...and soon we’ll need to be moving the herd to higher ground.”

Suddenly it seemed like everyone was looking at Cassidy. Heck and darn. “You know I’m only home for a couple of weeks, right?”

Olive frowned at that, but Corb wasn’t deterred.

“A couple of weeks could see us through the worst of this. If we’re lucky.” He turned to Farley. “What’s involved, exactly?”

Farley shook his head. “Strangles is incredibly contagious. It can be passed on through indirect contact with buckets, feed, grass, fences and especially water troughs.”

“I don’t see why our quarter horses should be under quarantine then,” Olive said sharply. “We feed, water and pasture them entirely separately from the riding horses.”

“The infection can also be transmitted by flies,” Jackson replied calmly. “Still, I have to wonder how Lucy caught this. I haven’t heard of any other cases in the area.”

“Have you brought any new horses onto the property lately?” Farley placed the vial for testing into his black case, then went to the sink at the corner of the barn and washed his hands.

Jackson shook his head no, then glanced at Olive. “Didn’t I see you load Lucy in the trailer last week?”

“That wasn’t Lucy,” Olive said shortly. “I did buy some secondhand tack at auction on the weekend.”

“That could be your culprit. I hate to say it, but your whole tack room should be disinfected. You’re going to need to stock up on chlorhexidine soap.”

“We have some,” Corb said, pointing to a gallon by the sink.

“You’re going to need more. But I have a few gallons in my truck I can give you for now.” He turned to Cassidy. “If you’re in charge of containing this infection, we should sit down somewhere and talk.” He looked as excited as if he’d just sentenced himself to an hour in a dentist’s chair.

Cassidy felt the same way herself. After a semester of studies, she’d hoped to spend most of her break on the back of a horse—not cooped up in a barn with a bucket and a rag.

“You two might as well talk in the office.” Olive waved to the door next to the tack room. “I’ll bring out some coffee and sandwiches. I know Corb and Jackson will be happy to get back to work.”

“Over the moon with excitement,” Corb teased. He gave Cassidy a tap on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up later, okay? Come by tonight and say hi to Laurel and Stephanie?”

“I did drop in at the café for a visit on my way through town, but I’ll still take you up on that offer.”

“Better disinfect your arms and hands, if you’ve had any contact with Lucy,” Farley warned as the two men and Olive left the barn. “And your boots.”

“I’ll set up a boot dip right now.” Cassidy found a plastic tub in the tack room and mixed up a disinfecting solution. She set the tub by the door so that anyone leaving the barn would be able to disinfect their boots on their way out.

Corb, Jackson and her mother all made use of the new boot dip then headed off to their respective chores.

And then it was just the two of them in a barn that was suddenly, uncomfortably silent.

For a second Cassidy considered trying to clear the air between them. But how could she possibly do that? What she’d done had been inexcusable, even if she’d only been twenty-one at the time.

Instead, she headed for the office, trusting Farley to follow, which he did, along with Sky.

The border collie settled at her feet when she sat in the oak chair behind the desk. Farley took the upholstered chair opposite, dwarfing the thing with his tall, muscular frame.

It took a lot of physical strength to be a large-animal vet, and no one could doubt that Farley had that. But it was more than his size that she found intimidating right now. When Farley looked you in the eyes, you could tell he wasn’t one to compromise.

Or make allowances.

Cassidy found paper and a pen for taking notes, then waited for her instructions. As the silence stretched on, she forced herself to meet the vet’s gaze.

“What can I do to help Lucy?”

“Hot compresses on her swollen glands. The abscesses will probably rupture on their own in about a week, but if they don’t, I’ll need to lance them.”

Cassidy made a note. Hot compresses. “Anything else?”

“It’s important that she keep eating and drinking to maintain her strength. You can try feeding her gruel—that might go down easier than her usual hay mixture. But the majority of your effort should go into keeping the infection contained.”

She nodded, well aware of the risks.

“As well as keeping Lucy quarantined from the other horses you’ll need to clean and disinfect her water buckets and feed containers daily. Bedding should be burned, walls and fences scrubbed down.” His gaze fell to her hands, which were smooth and pale after so many months of study. “You up for all of that?”

“Guess I’ll have to be.”

“There’s more. Any contaminated pasture areas should be rested for at least four weeks.”

“You want those scrubbed down, too?”

One corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Fortunately for you, ultraviolet light from the sun has natural antibacterial qualities.”

“Yeah. I’m feeling really lucky right now. As is Lucy, I’m sure.”

Once more Farley seemed to struggle not to smile. And seeing that, she felt an ache for the easy friendship that they’d once shared.

Though friendship wasn’t quite the right word. She’d had a crush on him dating back to the days when he and her brothers would hang out together. As a young girl, she’d followed them around the ranch until Brock ran out of patience and came up with some devious plan to get rid of her.

“Remember the time you, Corb and Brock lured me up the hayloft in the old cattle barn, then pulled down the ladder and stranded me up there?”

Farley blinked. She’d disarmed him by bringing up a story from so long ago, before the trouble between them.

“I do. How did you get down, by the way?”

“One of the hired hands heard me yelling and came to the rescue.”

“You were quite the tomboy back then. But I guess it’s going to be accounting offices and city life for you now, huh?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He shrugged. “I’m not the only one who’s surprised.”

This was true. Corb, B.J. and her mother had all tried to talk her out of studying business when she’d first told them about her plans to go to college. She didn’t know if they didn’t think she was smart enough, or what, but they certainly hadn’t been supportive.

“Yoo-hoo,” her mother’s voice rang out. A few seconds later she breezed in the door with a tray. “I don’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to bring you some lunch.”

She’d brought out a carafe of coffee with mugs and a plate of sandwiches. After setting the tray on the middle of the desk between them, she stood back and looked from Cassidy to Farley with a smile of satisfaction.

“Actually,” Farley said, “we were just finishing up here.”

“Don’t be in such a rush. You have to eat, don’t you? Take your time. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.”

And with that, Olive left, making a point of closing the door behind her.

Olive didn’t often make herself scarce, so Cassidy couldn’t help but be suspicious. Was it possible her mother was hoping she and Farley...?

No. It couldn’t be.

She risked a quick look at the vet’s expression, trying to judge if he’d felt any weird vibes from her mother, too.

“Olive seems to be in a good mood for a rancher who has just had her livestock quarantined,” he commented, reaching for one of the ham-and-cheese triangles.

“Yeah. She’s up to something.” She felt the hot color rising on her neck.

“Matchmaking?” Farley suggested.

“Kind of looks that way, doesn’t it?”

“A little,” he admitted. The light in his eyes grew darker, colder. “Guess you forgot to tell her that I’m the last man on earth you’d ever want to be with.”