Cowboy Doctor

“Do you think he’ll be all right?”

Their gazes fused. “That’s hard to tell at this point. He’s less tense since the pressure was relieved. I’m going to start him on medication.”

Reaching inside his bag, he drew out the balling gun with the antibiotic and placed it in the corner of Chief’s mouth. Very gently, he pushed the tip to the back of his tongue. He dispensed the tablet with the plunger and lifted Chief’s head to make certain he swallowed it.

“There you go, buddy. We’re going to get you better.”

“We are,” Tracey cooed, with her arms around his neck. “You poor darling.”

This woman was a true horse lover. In the background he heard voices. “What’s going on, Granddad?” Another male had joined Mr. Hunter.

“I phoned Dr. Clayton to take care of Chief’s hoof. It had a hot nail in it.”

“Since when? He was fine this morning.” The dark-haired younger man, probably in his midtwenties, sounded upset—as he ought to be, considering the pain the horse was in.

“Since Tracey Marcroft arrived this afternoon and noticed he was limping. We have her to thank for saving Chief from going lame, if it’s not too late. This is the first time you’ve had a chance to meet her, isn’t it? Tracey? This is my grandson, Wes. You’ve already met his wife, Fran.”

“I did. She’s darling. It’s nice to meet you, Wes.”

He nodded. “Welcome to the ranch.” In the next breath he eyed his grandfather. “Where’s Dr. Cruz?”

Wes’s behavior struck Roce as rude. The man exuded no warmth and hadn’t even acknowledged Ms. Marcroft’s contribution. The fact that he completely ignored Roce didn’t matter.

“I’m afraid he wasn’t available, Wes. You have no idea how fortunate we are that Dr. Clayton was on call and willing to come at a moment’s notice.”

Wes stood next to his grandfather, but made no comment as Roce put the things back in his bag and moved out of the stall. He addressed the older man. “I’ll come every day to soak his hoof until he gets rid of the infection. He’ll need a fresh poultice each visit. In ten days to two weeks we’ll know if he’s back to normal.”

“I’m indebted to you.” They shook hands. “Allow me to introduce my grandson, Wes, who’s in charge of the stable.”

“How do you do, Wes?”

The young man made a sound of acknowledgment, but lacked the older man’s good manners and didn’t extend a hand, prompting Mr. Hunter to speak up. “You’ll be seeing Wes when you come again tomorrow.”

“Very good.”

Roce looked around and saw Tracey Marcroft, who stood a little distance away.

She smiled at him. “I’m so glad you came when you did, Dr. Clayton. Chief seems more at peace already.”

“I agree. Getting that nail out did the trick. No animal should have to stay in pain.” He turned to Mr. Hunter. “I’ll say good-night.”

“Come to my office tomorrow after your visit and we’ll talk more, Dr. Clayton.”

“I’ll do that.”

Since the arrival of the grandson, the atmosphere had grown chilly.

Much as he would have liked to stay near the horse to observe him awhile longer, and talk to Ms. Marcroft alone for a few minutes, he realized now wasn’t the time. But he intended to seek her out tomorrow when he came again. On that happy note, he walked out to the truck and took off.

When he reached his house twenty minutes later and opened the door, Daisy launched herself at him. He let out a deep laugh. Life suddenly looked exciting in ways he couldn’t have imagined when he’d left several hours ago.

* * *

TRACEY TOOK A shower and got ready for bed, but knew she wouldn’t be going to sleep for a while. She was too angry at Wes Hunter, for a variety of reasons. She couldn’t comprehend him treating his grandfather like that, and he’d come close to ignoring her and Dr. Clayton. What in heaven’s name had been wrong with him?

Before driving to her cabin, she’d noticed John talking to his grandson in private after Dr. Clayton had left in his truck. The older man had shaken his head several times, indicating that they were having an intense conversation. If Wes was upset because he hadn’t seen Chief’s limp, it didn’t warrant his rudeness toward all of them.

No one knew how long the nail had been embedded, but for some reason the infection had started hurting the horse that afternoon. Since she had to work with Wes and it was his horse, she had to hope he wouldn’t hold it against her for noticing the problem first. In a normal situation, the number one priority would be to get Chief back to perfect health. She couldn’t understand why Wes would be angry that Dr. Clayton had taken care of Chief in a crisis. None of it made sense to her.

But that wasn’t all that was bothering her.

When she’d watched the red pickup disappear, she’d wished the dark blond doctor wouldn’t have left so fast. The tall, hard-muscled veterinarian was incredibly handsome. Her reaction to him had shocked her. After losing Jeff, she’d thought her heart had died and would never come back to life. But something had gone on this evening when they’d glanced at each other, something she couldn’t explain.

It wasn’t just his good looks or the intelligence shining in those hazel eyes that appealed to her. He’d displayed a natural affinity for the horse. There was a quiet authority and assurance he possessed that had gentled Chief enough for him to operate on the animal. He was a man in touch with nature, a trait that ranked high with her.

The doctor didn’t wear a wedding ring. But maybe because he worked with his hands so much, he left it at home when he went out on calls. If he was married, she’d be a fool to give him another thought.

How uncanny was it that she’d noticed Dr. Clayton’s hospital while she’d been driving to the ranch? What were the chances of John calling him in desperation when he couldn’t reach his regular vet?

Surprised by her thoughts, after she’d felt dead inside for so long, she grabbed a quilt and made herself comfortable on the couch to watch TV.

At some point she must have fallen asleep, for the next thing she knew someone was knocking on her cabin door. And the sun was streaming in the window above the kitchen sink. Tracey sat up and looked at her watch. Eight-thirty. The knock sounded again.

“Who is it?” she called out.

“Grady Cox.”

Tracey silently groaned. He had to be at least three years younger than she.

“They’re serving Sunday brunch for all the employees this morning. Do you want to eat with me?”

No, but she couldn’t be rude to him. They’d be working together for the next three months. Thank goodness the cabins weren’t equipped with phones and he didn’t have her cell number. Only John and Fran had access to that information if they needed to get hold of her.

“I’m afraid I’m not up yet. No doubt we’ll be seeing each other at some point soon.”

“You can count on it. My cabin is number five. The one with the silver Chevy Malibu in front.”

“Got it.”

When he walked away, Tracey let out a sound of relief and hurried to get ready in jeans and a yellow pullover. Her priority this morning was to check on Chief. She’d planned to skip breakfast, and reached for the granola bar from her purse to eat later on.

After brushing her hair, she put on fresh lipstick and her cowboy hat, then pulled on her cowboy boots and left the cabin for the barn. There was no sign of Dr. Clayton’s truck. Maybe he’d already come and gone. She walked inside, hoping that wasn’t true.

“Good morning,” she said when she saw Wes coming out of the stall next to Chief’s. Last night she’d noticed that Fran’s husband was most likely twenty-four or twenty-five, just slightly older than his wife. But unlike Fran, he didn’t have her friendly disposition. Talk about opposites.

“Morning,” he muttered. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived yesterday. I was in town checking on supplies to be delivered.”

“No problem.”