Star Valley Winter

by RaeAnne Thayne

  And now his horses were going to pay the price for his gullibility.

  “What did you do to them?” He bit the words out.

  She paled at the fury in his voice and stepped back half a pace. “What do you mean?”

  “They were fine yesterday until you came out messing around with your New Age Chinese bull. What did you do?”

  “Nothing I haven’t done before. Just what you hired me to do, treat your horses.”

  She narrowed her green eyes at him suddenly. “Wait a minute. Are you blaming me for this? You think I caused whatever is making them sick?”

  “Nichols says he thinks it’s some kind of virulent bacterial infection. Maybe even—”

  She interrupted him. “What does Steve have to do with this?”

  “We were giving prenatal exams to the cows,” he said impatiently. “He was with me when Hector came to tell us about the horses.”

  “And he thinks I infected these horses?”

  “He said he’s seen a similar case caused by infected syringes. The only needles these animals have seen in a month have been yours, Doc. You and your acupuncture baloney.”

  He refused to let himself be affected by the way her face paled and her eyes suddenly looked haunted. “You…you can’t believe that’s what caused this.”

  “You have any other ideas? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the most logical source.”

  She looked bewildered and lost and hurt, and he had to turn away to keep from reaching for her, to fold her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay.

  “You can leave now,” he said harshly, angry at himself for the impulse. “Steve is handling things from now on.”

  He had to hand it to her. She didn’t back down, just tilted that chin of hers, all ready to take another one on the jaw. “We have a contract for another two months.”

  “Consider it void. You’ll get your money, every penny of it, but I don’t want you touching my horses again.”

  He drew a deep breath, trying to contain the fury prowling through him like a caged beast. It wasn’t just the horses. He could deal with her making a mistake, especially since the tiny corner of his brain that could still think rationally was convinced she would never willfully hurt his animals.

  But he had trusted her. Had let himself begin to care for her. He had given her a chance despite his instincts to the contrary, and she had violated that trust by passing on a potentially deadly illness to six of his animals.

  He refused to look at her, knowing he would weaken when he saw the hurt in her eyes. He was a fool when it came to women. An absolute idiot. First Melanie with her needy eyes and her lying tongue and now Ellie with her sweet-faced innocence.

  She had suckered him into completely forgetting his responsibilities—that the ranch came first, not pretty red-haired veterinarians. He was thirty-six years old and he damn well should have known better.

  “That’s your decision, of course,” she said quietly after a moment, her voice as thin and brittle as old glass. “I certainly understand. You have to do what you think is right for your animals. Goodbye, Matt.”

  She walked out of the barn, her shoulders stiffen with dignity. He watched her go for only a moment, then turned to his horses.

  * * *

  What was she doing?

  Hours later, Ellie navigated the winding road to the Diamond Harte while the wipers struggled to keep the windshield clear of the thick, wet snow sloshing steadily down.

  She should be home in bed on a snowy night like tonight, curled into herself and weeping for the loss of a reputation she had spent five months trying to establish in Salt River. A reputation that had crumbled like dry leaves in one miserable afternoon.

  That’s what she wanted to be doing, wallowing in a good, old-fashioned pity party. Instead, here she was at nearly midnight, her stomach a ball of nerves and the steering wheel slipping through her sweat-slicked hands.

  Matt would be furious if he found her sneaking onto the Diamond Harte in the middle of the night. The way he had spoken to her earlier, she wouldn’t be surprised if he called his brother to haul her off to jail.

  But despite his order to stay away, she knew she needed to do this. Cassie had tried to reassure her that the horses’ conditions had improved when Ellie called earlier in the evening, but it wasn’t good enough. She would never be able to sleep until she could be sure the animals would pull through.

  She couldn’t believe this was happening, that in a single afternoon her whole world could shatter apart like a rickety fence in a strong wind.

  Matt’s horses had only been the first to fall ill. By mid-afternoon, she’d received calls from the three other ranches she’d visited the day before reporting that all the horses she had seen in the last forty-eight hours had come down with the same mysterious symptoms.

  She’d done her best for the afflicted animals, treating them with high dosages of penicillin while she struggled exhaustively to convince the ranchers to continue allowing her to treat their stock.

  And to convince herself this couldn’t be her fault.

  The evidence was mounting, though. And damning. It did indeed look like staph infection, centered near the entry marks where she had treated each horse with acupuncture the day before.

  How could this be happening? She was so careful. Washing her hands twice as long as recommended, using only sterile needles from a reputable supplier.

  Maybe she’d gotten a bad batch somehow, but she couldn’t imagine how that was possible. Each needle came wrapped in a sterile package and was used only once.

  The same questions had been racing themselves around and around in her head until she was dizzy from them, but she was no closer to figuring out how such a nightmare could have occurred.

  Hard to believe the day before she’d felt on top of the world, had finally begun to think she had actually found a place she could belong here in Salt River.

  All her dreams of making a stable, safe, fulfilling life for Dylan and for herself were falling apart. When this was over, she was very much afraid she would be lucky to find a job selling dog food, let alone continue practicing veterinary medicine anywhere in western Wyoming.

  Every time she thought about the future, all she could focus on was this sick, greasy fear that she would have to sell the practice at a huge loss and go back to California and face all the smug people who would be so ready with I-told-you-so’s.

  She would have to leave the people she had come to care about here. SueAnn. Sarah McKenzie. Cassie Harte.

  Matt.

  Her chest hurt whenever she thought about him, about the way he had looked at her earlier in the day. With contempt and repugnance, like she was something messy and disgusting stuck to the heel of his boot.

  He shouldn’t have had the power to wound her so deeply with only a look, and it scared her to death that he could. How had she come to care for him—for his opinion of her—so much?

  He should mean nothing more to her than the rest of her clients. Only another rancher paying her to keep his horses healthy, that’s all. So why couldn’t she convince her heart?

  The pickup’s old tires slid suddenly on a patch of black ice hidden beneath the few inches of snow covering the road, and panic skittered through her for the few seconds it took the truck to find traction again. When it did, she blew out a breath and pushed away thoughts of Matt Harte and his chilling contempt for her. She needed to concentrate on the road, not on the disaster her life had turned into.

  At the ranch, she pulled to the back of the horse barn, grateful it was far enough from the house that she could sneak in undetected. She climbed out of the truck on bones that felt brittle and achy and crunched through the ankle-deep snow to the door.

  Inside, the horse barn was dark except for a low light burning near the far end where, she supposed, the sick mar
es were being kept. She made her way down the long row of stalls and was about halfway there when a broad-shouldered figure stepped out of the darkness and into the small circle of light.

  CHAPTER 11

  Matt.

  Her heart stuttered in her chest, and for a moment she forgot to breathe, caught between a wild urge to turn around and run for the door in disgrace and a stubborn determination to stand her ground.

  His little brindle-colored cow dog gave one sharp bark, then jumped up to greet her, tail wagging cheerfully. Ellie reached down and gave her a little pat, grateful at least somebody was happy to see her.

  “Zoe, heel,” he ordered.

  With a sympathetic look in her brown eyes, the dog obeyed, slinking back to curl up at his feet once more.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but she could almost believe he sounded more resigned than angry to find her sneaking into his barn. At least he didn’t sound quite ready to call the cops on her. That gave her enough courage to creep a few steps closer to that welcoming circle of light.

  Behind him, she caught sight of a canvas cot and a rumpled sleeping bag. Matt had surrendered the comfort of his warm bed to stay the night in a musty old barn where he could be near his ailing horses.

  The hard, painful casing around her heart began to crack a little, and she pressed a hand to her chest, inexplicably moved by this further evidence of what a good, caring man he was.

  “Doc?” he prompted. “What are you doing here?”

  She drew in a shaky breath. “I know you told me to stay away, but I couldn’t. I…I just wanted to check on them.”

  “Cass said you called. Didn’t you believe her when she told you the antibiotics seemed to be working?”

  Heat crawled up her cheeks despite the chill of the barn. “I did. I just had to see for myself. I’m sorry. I know I have no right to be here. Not anymore. I won’t touch them, I swear. Just look.”

  His jaw flexed but he didn’t say anything and she took that as tacit permission. Turning her back on him, she slowly walked the way she had come, down the long line of stalls, giving each animal a visual exam.

  As Cassie had reported, the infection seemed to have run its course. At least their symptoms seemed to have improved. Relief gushed over her, and she had to swallow hard against the choking tears that threatened.

  “Delilah seems to have been hit the worst,” Matt said just behind her, so close his breath rippled across her cheek. “She’s still running a fever but it’s dropped quite a bit from earlier.”

  Trying fiercely to ignore the prickles of awareness as he invaded her space, she followed the direction of his gaze to the dappled gray. “What are you putting on that abscess on her flank?”

  He told her and she nodded. “Good. That should take care of it.”

  “Now that you mention it, it’s probably time for another application.” He picked up a small container of salve from the top rail of the fence and entered the stall.

  Speaking softly to the horse, he rubbed the mixture onto the painful-looking sore, and Ellie watched, feeling useless. She hated this, being sidelined into the role of observer instead of being able to do something. It went against her nature to simply stand here and watch.

  He finished quickly and crossed to the sink to wash his hands. An awkward silence descended between them, broken only by the soft rustling of hay. Matt was the first to break it. “How are all the other horses faring?” he asked.

  “You know about the others?” Why did she feel this deep, ugly shame when she knew in her heart none of this could be her fault?

  He nodded. “Nichols told me. Three other ranches, a dozen horses in all including my six.”

  She had to fight the urge to press her hand against her roiling stomach at the stark statistics. “Just call me Typhoid Mary.”

  To her surprise, instead of the disdain she expected to see, his eyes darkened with sympathy. “So how are they?” he asked.

  “I lost one.” Her voice strained as she tried to sound brisk and unaffected. “One of Bob Meyers’s quarter horses. She was old and sickly anyway from an upper respiratory illness and just wasn’t strong enough to fight off the infection, even after antibiotics.”

  Despite her best efforts, she could feel her chin wobble a little and she tightened her lips together to make it stop.

  The blasted man never did as she expected. Instead of showing her scorn, he reached a hand out to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze, making her chin quiver even more.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  She let herself lean into his strength for just a moment then subtly eased away. “I don’t know what happened, Matt. I am so careful. Obsessively so. I always double scrub. Maybe I got a bad shipment of needles or something. I just don’t know.”

  “It’s eating you up inside, isn’t it?”

  “I became a vet to heal. And look what I’ve done!”

  His fingers brushed her shoulder again. “You can’t beat yourself up about it for the rest of your life.”

  He was silent for a moment, then sent her a sidelong glance. “I said some pretty nasty things to you earlier. Treated you a lot worse than you deserved. I’m sorry for that.”

  His brusquely worded apology fired straight to her heart. “You were worried about your horses.”

  “I was, but I still shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. I apologize.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about. You had every right to be upset—I would have been if they were my horses. I understand completely that you want to bring Steve back on-board. He seems to have handled the situation exactly right.”

  He shrugged. “Well, they all seem to be doing okay now. Mystic was the one I was most worried about, but she was eating fine tonight, and neither she or her foal seem to be suffering any ill effects.”

  Something in what he said briefly caught her attention, like a wrong note in a piano concerto. Before she could isolate it, he continued. “As for the others, I think we’re out of the danger zone.”

  “But you decided to stay the night out here anyway.”

  He shrugged. It might have been a trick of the low lighting, but she could swear she saw color climbing up his cheeks. “It seemed like a good idea, just to be on the safe side.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “You didn’t. I was just reading.”

  She looked over his shoulder and saw a well-worn copy of Owen Wister’s The Virginian lying spine up on the army-green blanket covering the cot. “Apparently your father was not the only one interested in the Old West.”

  A wry smile touched his lips. “It’s a classic, what can I say? The father of all Westerns.”

  She could drown in that smile, the way it creased at the edges of his mouth and softened his eyes and made him look years younger. She could stay here forever, just gazing at it…

  “Wait a minute.” The jarring note from before pounded louder in her head. “Wait a minute. Did you say Mystic was sick, too?”

  He nodded and pointed to the stall behind them. Dust motes floated on the air, tiny gold flakes in the low light. Through them she could see the little mare asleep in the stall.

  The implications exploded through her, and she rushed to the stall for a better look. “I didn’t treat her yesterday!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you remember? I was going to. She was on my schedule. But I ran out of time and planned to come back later when I could spend more time with her.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Don’t you get it? If Mystic came down with the same thing the others had, it can’t be because of me, because of any staph infection I might have introduced through unsanitary needles, like Steve implied. I didn’t even touch her yesterday!”

  He frowned. “You
did a few weeks ago.”

  “So why didn’t she show symptoms of illness much earlier than yesterday, when all the other horses became sick?”

  “Maybe it was some delayed reaction on her part. Just took it longer to hit her.”

  “No. That doesn’t make sense. I’ve been through at least two boxes of needles since then. They couldn’t have all been bad, or every single one of my patients would have the same illness. Don’t you see? Something else caused this, not me!”

  She wasn’t thinking, caught up only in the exhilaration—this vast, consuming relief to realize she hadn’t unknowingly released some deadly plague on her patients. If her brain had been functioning like it should have been, she certainly would never have thrown her arms around Matt in jubilation.

  She only hugged him for a moment. As soon as reality intruded—when she felt the soft caress of his chamois shirt against her cheek and smelled the clean, male scent of him—she froze, mortified at her impulsiveness. Awareness began as a flutter in her stomach, a hitch in her breathing.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled and pulled away.

  He stood awkwardly, arms still stiff at his sides, then moved to rest his elbows on the top rail of Mystic’s stall to keep from reaching for her again. “We’ve still got twelve sick animals here, then. Any ideas why?”

  “No. Nothing.” She frowned. “Steve’s right, it has all the signs of a bacterial infection, but it’s like no other I’ve ever seen before. And how could it spread from your ranch to the rest that have been hit, unless by something I did? I seem to be the only common link.”

  “Maybe you tracked something on your boots somehow.”

  “I don’t know of anything that could be this virulent in that kind of trace amount. And what about the abscesses?”

  * * *

  He had no more answers than she did, so he remained silent. After a long moment, she sighed. “The grim reality is, we might never know. I’ll get some blood work done and send the rest of the needles from the same box to the lab and see what turns up. Who knows. We might get lucky and they can identify something we haven’t even thought about. Something that’s not even related to me.”