“The next few minutes will tell.” The guy must be freezing. She certainly wasn’t, but she’d been working hard and pumping serious adrenaline.
“You did good.”
“You don’t know that yet.”
He nudged her shoulder, and she closed her eyes, drinking in the contact, trying not to remember his bare skin. At least she was wearing several layers.
“There it comes.”
Lauren blinked and refocused just as the foal whooshed from the birth canal and slithered to the hay. Snowball turned and nuzzled her baby. James dropped to his knees beside it, grabbed a handful of straw, and wiped the mucus from the newborn’s nose. The little one shook its head as though to get away from the scratchy substance.
James sat back on his heels and watched as the foal struggled to its feet.
Lauren leaned on the wall and watched James. It wasn’t like she’d never seen him shirtless before. The gang had often swum in the little lake on the Flying Horseshoe and floated down the river in inner tubes, but this was the first time the sight affected her this way. Made her want to slide her fingertips over his shoulders, play with the hair at the nape of his neck, touch the curls feathering his chest.
She needed to focus on something else. Anything else. She couldn’t.
He glanced up and caught her staring, and something darkened in his eyes before he looked away. Probably saw the truth in her eyes and was repulsed by it.
Lauren knelt in the straw on the other side of the foal. “Colt or filly?”
“Filly,” he answered.
But of course, she had to check for herself. Check all the vitals. The little gal seemed well for all the trauma surrounding her birth.
Lauren stripped the disposable sleeve down her arm, rolled it up, and tucked it into a trash bag. She should head home now. James was well able to monitor the newborn while waiting for Snowball to pass her placenta. The situation didn’t call for two anymore.
She didn’t want to leave. This was, by far, the most intimate half hour she’d ever spent with James, unless she counted the pledge of the sixteen-year-old who vowed not to let her be thirty and single.
Yeah, well, if he’d actually meant that, things would have turned out much differently, wouldn’t they? Yes. Yes, they would. He’d have wooed her like Kade had wooed Cheri back when they were all young adults, pledging undying love rather than a teenage solidarity. Unlike Cheri, Lauren would never have jilted James a week before the wedding.
Not a chance.
Against her wishes, her gaze followed him as he shrugged into his shirt, but she managed to look away as he turned back toward her.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d need to get in there myself,” he said by way of explanation as he snapped up the front.
It was okay to look at him when he was talking, right? Especially now that he was fully clothed again. “Good thinking. It’s best to be prepared.”
“I can’t thank you enough for coming out here in the middle of the night. In theory, I know what to do, but I’ve never seen it done before. It was comforting knowing you had the training and experience to back you up.”
Was this where she should explain it was her first time solo? Nah. “You can thank me by paying the invoice.”
“The minute I get it.” He held her gaze.
“That’s all I need.” Liar. She needed a whole lot more. She needed this man with a near primal urge. A braver Lauren would reach for him, but the veterinarian standing in the stable knew better. Knew it was just the magic of the moment, the teamwork, the low lighting, the gentle swishes of horses’ tails, the aroma of the stable, and the late-night hour. All those things together at once.
That’s all it was.
Lauren turned away, immediately feeling the loss of contact. She folded the trays of her veterinary case in and snapped it shut.
“Do you want to name her?” James’s quiet voice was nearer than she’d expected, and she jumped a little.
“Me?” Lauren looked up at him. So near. So tantalizingly near.
“Sure, why not? She’s not purebred or anything like that, so there isn’t a standard format. Plus, she might not be here if it weren’t for you.”
She wanted to demur, but the professional in her wouldn’t let her. He’d absolutely done the right thing by calling in a veterinarian. “I-I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
He nodded, his gaze never breaking from hers. “Let me know in the next day or two what you come up with. I imagine you’ll swing past again to make sure all is well?”
“Of course.” James didn’t need to know that was standard practice only for the Flying Horseshoe. She and Wyatt didn’t have time to check back on every single callout. “And do feel free to call if you have any concerns.”
A grin crinkled his cheeks and feathered laugh lines from his eyes. “You know I will.”
Lauren nodded crisply and looked away. She had to focus elsewhere — like on the fact that dawn was still a couple of hours away — and get off the ranch before she did something really stupid like give James a hug.
She waved once more, stowed her gear, and turned the key in the ignition.
He stood watching her, bathed in the glow of the stable lights, until she rounded a curve and couldn’t see him in her mirror anymore.
Then she took a long, shuddering breath. Get a grip, girl.
What would happen if she casually said something like, “hey, remember our sixteenth when you promised not to let me turn thirty, still single? Look at us. Here we are...”
That would go over well. His brow would furrow as he stared at her in confusion. Then he’d laugh, dig his elbow into her ribs, and tell her that was a good one. Or else there’d be a flicker of disappointment and pity before he told her he’d honor that pact because of their friendship.
Lauren didn’t want a pity proposal. She wanted James on a charger, ready to do battle for the woman he loved passionately. Which was totally a daydream because, if he did love her, he wouldn’t be waiting for anything. He’d let her know.
So, he didn’t love her. And she needed to get over him.
The thought of trying to figure out how to do that kept her staring at the ceiling until her alarm went off a couple of hours later.
Chapter Four
“You should have called me.” Dad’s eyes clouded with disappointment as he surveyed James across the breakfast table.
Was this where James told his father he was too gimped to help? That didn’t seem polite. “I told you, I called Lauren.”
“I’ve turned many a calf and foal in my day.”
“Now, Bill, you know you can’t do everything you used to.” Mom’s hand rested on Dad’s forearm. “James made the best call he could at two o’clock.”
Dad glowered at her, but she didn’t pull back. “When I was growing up, we didn’t phone the vet for every little thing.”
James picked at his omelet. “It wasn’t a little thing. The foal’s hoof was back. Snowball could have pushed all night and not given birth. They could both have died. I don’t think bringing in a veterinarian was a bad choice.”
Yeah, he’d totally enjoyed watching Lauren at work. Sharing the entire experience with her was something he’d willingly pay triple for. The quiet ambience of a stable at night, watching the miracle of birth beside the woman he loved... this night would be entrenched in his memory forever.
But that didn’t mitigate the facts. Snowball had been in trouble. Lauren was a vet who could, and did, fix it. They now had a healthy mare and foal. Where was his dad’s problem with that? If the guest ranch were in financial trouble, his parents would never have suggested James build a house. If it wasn’t that, it was just his dad’s ego.
And a man’s ego was a fragile thing not to be tampered with. James tried to put himself in his father’s well-worn cowboy boots for a moment. His dad had ridden every day, yet those boots had not slid into stirrups in seven years. Everything Bill Carmichael had known had been ripped
from him in one death-defying moment. Well, not everything. He’d retained his life, his family, and his ranch, but his day-to-day life had one-eightied in every possible way.
“I’m sorry, Dad. You’re right. I should have touched base with you.”
Dad settled back into his chair, a slight smile of satisfaction lurking.
Mom gave James a sharp look.
James shrugged and finished his omelet. He could have texted Dad after he’d called Lauren, more as an FYI than anything else. Odds were Dad wouldn’t even have heard the subtle chime of an incoming text above his own snoring. Honestly, though? Dad’s presence in the stall would have broken the magic. Not that the magic was leading anywhere. The glitter he’d imagined in the air had likely been dust motes.
“What’s on the agenda today?” Tori asked.
“Your father is doing call-backs to confirm the summer staff this afternoon.” Mom cleared dishes off the table. “I could use a hand with cleaning the staff quarters.”
“Someone needs to ride the trails and clear any deadfall. With so many big storms last winter, there’s sure to be lot of trees down.” Dad eyed James. “Take your chainsaw.”
He’d rather stick around HQ today and keep an eye on the foal. He could even handle scrubbing with his mom, but Tori couldn’t manage the heavy chainsaw.
“I’ll pop in on Snowball often.” Tori swatted James’s arm. “Have you named the foal yet?”
Generally, whoever was present at a birth got the honors, so it was a reasonable question. “Lauren’s thinking about a name.”
Tori’s eyebrows rose.
James’s chair scraped the floor as he stood. “I’ll get my things together and grab a mobile phone from the office. Buzz me if there’s anything I need to know.”
He rummaged in the fridge for leftover roast beef then wedged chunks of it between thick slices of his mom’s homemade sourdough bread. Tori had baked oatmeal date cookies yesterday. A handful of those joined the sandwiches in his pack. A thermos of hot coffee and another of cold water went into the pack’s side pockets. Though the day was clear and reasonably pleasant for late March, he stuffed a windbreaker inside, as well.
Outside, he topped off the ATV’s tank then strapped an extra jerry can of fuel to the rack beside the chainsaw before running through his mental checklist.
“Which trail are you taking?” Tori stood beside him, arms crossed over her chest, shivering in her light T-shirt and jeans.
“Hooded Mountain. Then I’ll circle past the lake and come back down Shedly Creek.”
She nodded. “Unless there are more trees down than usual, you should be back before dark.”
“Yep. If not, send the posse after me.” He straddled the quad and reached for the key.
“Want me to let you know if Lauren comes by?” A singsong quality lit Tori’s voice.
What did his sister think she knew? James’s hand dropped away from the ignition. “Why would you?”
“She might come to see if you liked her choice of names for the filly.”
He shrugged. “She can text me. I’ll see it when I’m home.”
“Or she might come just to stare dreamily at you.”
“As if.” He barked a short laugh. “We’re just friends. She doesn’t see me like that.”
Tori sidled closer. “You think?”
“What’s with the twenty questions? I’ve known Lauren since we were in diapers. Pretty sure I’d know if she had a romantic thought in her head.”
“You know what I think?”
“No, but I’m sure I’m about to find out.”
She grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “I think you two are in love, but no one is willing to make the first move. I also think that’s crazy.”
“It’s you who’s crazy.” James managed a grin he hoped looked amused and carefree. “Turn your imagination to good, not evil.” He turned the key, and the quad roared to life. A twist of the throttle, and he rode out of the ranch yard without a second glance back at his sister.
Tori would be the last person he’d confide in. Life hadn’t walloped all the romantic notions out of her head yet.
Maybe she’d be one of the lucky ones who wouldn’t experience the pain of unrequited love. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
* * *
Lauren turned onto her street at the end of a busy but blessedly uneventful day only to discover Denae’s car at the curb. At least she wouldn’t spend her evening wondering if that look in James’s eyes meant anything. Of course, it didn’t. She knew that, so there was no point in contemplating.
Denae erupted off the wicker chair on Lauren’s front porch. “Hey! I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming today. To make up for it, I want to take you for dinner. Where’s good? The Munching Moose?”
“Hey, yourself.” Lauren hugged her friend. “The Moose is only open for lunch except in summer. How about The Branding Iron?” That sounded really good, actually. Their ribs were divine. She could taste them already.
“Yeah! Let’s do it. Although, girlfriend, you look bagged.”
“I was up in the middle of the night to help with a difficult foaling, but I’m good. Not the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last in my line of work.”
“I couldn’t do it.” Denae tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. “I need my beauty sleep, or I can’t function.”
The words beauty sleep weren’t even in Lauren’s vocabulary. She looked down at her scrubs. “Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be right with you. Come on in.” Maybe the nondescript sweats she usually kicked into after work were not the best choice when going out with Denae, whose slender figure showed off well in skinny yoga pants and a flowy top with angled ruffles.
While Denae waited, Lauren changed into jeans and a blue MSU Bobcats T-shirt, ran a pick through her curls, and gave herself a critical once-over in the mirror. She was lucky Denae deigned to be seen with her. One of these days she really needed to get some new outfits, something more flattering. The thought of a shopping day was as welcome as having a tooth pulled with no anesthetic.
She breezed into the kitchen, freshened Felix’s water dish, and grabbed her shoulder bag. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
Denae chuckled and led the way out to her RAV4. “Hop in, girlfriend, and let’s go find food.”
A few minutes later they were seated in a booth in the rustic restaurant where Kenny Chesney belted out his most recent country song. Wait staff in cowboy hats surged from table to table, wearing plaid snap-front shirts tucked into belted jeans.
The new girl stopped at the end of their booth. “Howdy, I’m Anna, and I’m your waitress tonight.” She rattled off the evening’s special.
Lauren grinned at her. “Good to meet you. I’m Lauren, one of the veterinarians here in Saddle Springs, and this is my friend Denae Armstrong, who’s moving back to town after a few years away.”
“Great.” Anna shot a big smile from one to the other. “What can I get you to drink?”
“A diet cola for me, please.” Lauren motioned at Denae.
“Ice water. Hold the lemon.”
“You’ve got it.” Anna breezed away.
Plain ice water. Lauren should try that sometime. Probably all those soft drinks — diet or otherwise — weren’t helping her figure any. Cutting back to water sounded more doable than jogging five miles every day.
Anna returned with their drinks, expectantly holding a pen and pad.
“New in town?” Lauren asked.
“A couple of months. Came over from Bozeman.”
“Oh, I went to college there. Do you ride?”
Anna blinked. “As in, horses?”
Denae chuckled. “Welcome to the wild west town of Saddle Springs, where riding means nothing else.”
“Um, no. Sorry. Horses are stinky and really, really tall.” The waitress made a face. “Are you going to run me out of town now?”
“Not yet.” Lauren grinned. “If you’re looking for ridin
g lessons, you should check out the Flying Horseshoe Ranch. They’ve got good mounts for beginners, and James Carmichael is a very patient teacher.”
Anna’s eyes glazed over and she tapped her pen slightly on the end of the plank table.
“He’s also single and cute.”
“Did I mention we have ribs on special tonight?”
Okay, so Anna wasn’t looking to be set up. “Yes. Sounds good to me. I’ll go with honey garlic. They come with French fries and coleslaw, right?”
“Yep. And sticky toffee pudding for dessert.”
“Yum.” Lauren closed her menu and slid it to the end.
“I’ll take the chicken taco salad, and hold the chips, please. Can you serve that with low-fat ranch dressing?”
Oh, man. She should have let Denae order first. Then she wouldn’t look like such a glutton in front of her friend.
“Can do.” Anna grinned, gathered the menus, and sashayed away to the beat of Vince Gill.
“I wonder what brings a non-rider to Saddle Springs,” mused Denae.
“Who knows? Listen, a few of us are planning a trail ride camping trip in mid-May for a few days. Interested in joining us?”
Denae angled her head. “Sounds fun. I haven’t done much riding in Missoula, though. I’m sure my rear will be mighty sore.”
She certainly had no padding on it. “You’ve got a few weeks to get in shape for it, if you want to.”
“Where at? You mentioned Carmichaels’ ranch...”
“Yes, they have a guest ranch now, since Bill’s accident. You might have heard about that?”
“My dad told me.”
Probably Denae’s lawyer dad had sued the pants off the farmer who should have known better than to start an auger when someone was working in the equipment bed. Bill’s legs had been caught and mangled before the other guy realized what he’d done and hit the off switch.
“So, the Flying Horseshoe is a great option for riding lessons, at least before summer hits and they’re booked up with tourists. Canyon Crossing Stables is another place with rentals. The Morrisons bought that business since you lived here.” Should she talk up Garret Morrison? No, she needed to get James Carmichael married off before she got diverted helping anyone else.
The Cowboy’s Mixed-Up Matchmaker Page 3
