The phone rang out above another flash of lightning and roll of thunder. They started simultaneously. When Ross answered it, Jessi was at his elbow.
“Ross Turner here.”
He paused to listen.
“Yeah, well, thanks anyway.” He replaced the receiver and stood staring into space.
“They’ll find her.” Jessi looked up at him. “I know they will.”
“Sure.”
****
“Would you care to tell me how you got back here?” He joined her in the parlor a half hour later to find her dressed in her horse-pictures pajamas and ensconced on one of the mattresses neatly made up with the new bedding. Across the room the other mattress lay similarly prepared for the night.
“Good old-fashioned resourcefulness.”
“Specifics.” He sank into the chair that had been his bed, whisky glass in hand.
“So you can avoid making the same mistake again? Well, let me tell you, cowboy, your charm can only be stretched so far. Wine and roses and slow dancing won’t work a second time.”
“Come on. I’m not that devious…or dumb.”
“Really?” Green eyes narrowing, Jessi looked over at him. “So you admit your getting cleaned up and the rest of it was all a ploy to get me to go to Moncton with you, to leave with no choice but to go back to Calgary?”
“Some of it.” And that’s the truth. “So tell me, how did you manage to get back here?”
“Let’s just say the barter system is alive and well in New Brunswick.” She adjusted her pillow.
“I can see that’s all I’m going to get out of you right now, so I may as well leave it there.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“And since we now have these almost civilized sleeping quarters, I see no reason for me to continue to sleep in my clothes.”
Watching for her reaction, he stood and placed his drink on the mantel. Balancing himself against it, he began to unbutton his shirt.
“Sounds like a good idea. Pleasant dreams, cowboy.”
With a disgusted grunt, he pulled off his shirt and jerked open his belt buckle.
Okay, Miss Calm and Cool, I’m going right down to the underwear.
But she’d rolled over, putting her back to him.
Chapter Ten
He was gone from his mattress when she awoke the following morning. Remembering his taunt about getting undressed for bed, she grinned. Seeing a cowboy in his underwear wouldn’t have been all that shocking. Still, this was Ross…
The smell of coffee attracted her, and she pulled herself from the mattress and headed barefoot in her flannelette pajamas to the kitchen.
“Smells good.” She glanced at Ross, fully clothed, nursing a cup of coffee as he sat at the table.
“This isn’t a frat house.” He shot her a scowl as she crossed the room to the cupboard to take out a mug. “You could get dressed before putting in an appearance.”
“Ah, but you were the first to shatter any and all dress codes, last night.” She poured steaming dark brew into her cup and favored him with a sly, taunting glance.
“Here’s your wallet.” He shoved the leather folder he’d been holding in his left hand across the table toward her. “Everything is there.”
“I fully expected it would be.” She left it where it was.
“Yeah? You mean in spite of what I tried to do to you, you don’t think I’d rifle through your personal stuff?”
“No, that thought didn’t cross my mind. You’re not that kind of man. Remember, I’ve known you from ’way back, Ross. Any news about Fox?”
“No.”
“Sorry.”
****
Jessi, dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, was tidying the kitchen after breakfast when Ross’s cell rang.
Please, please let that be good news about Fox. She watched his face as he wrenched it from his pocket and answered.
“Yeah, this is Ross Turner.” A pause while he listened, and then his words broke into a burst. “She did? Great, good. Thanks, Sergeant. I’m coming right over.”
“Ross, what is it?”
“The wife of an RCMP sergeant and her Pug found Fox,” he breathed as he replaced the receiver on its charger. “She’s been injured, probably hit by a car. They’ve taken her to Dr. Masters’ clinic at her farm.”
“Oh, my God! Ross, wait for me.” She dropped the dishcloth and started after him as he stumped toward the door.
“Hurry up!”
She had to run across the yard to keep up with his long, unsteady strides as they headed for his truck. She barely had time to jump into the passenger seat and reach for her seatbelt before he’d revved the engine and was turning the truck toward the lane to the road.
“Whoa, slow down, cowboy!” Jessi bounced against the seatbelt as he drove over the rough road, hitting ruts and roots hard. “Getting us stuck or smashing something on these fancy wheels won’t help.”
“Okay, okay!” He eased up on the gas, but his hands clutching the wheel were white-knuckled.
He loves that little dog. The realization brought a warm wave washing over Jessi. The accident hadn’t entirely turned his heart to stone.
****
At the sign proclaiming the place to be Ebony M Farm, Ross swung the truck into the drive so violently Jessi was again tossed against the limits of her seatbelt.
“Ross, take it easy!”
“Look, I didn’t ask you to come along. Furthermore, I don’t appreciate backseat drivers.”
“Okay, fine.” She heaved a deep breath of relief as he braked to a stop in front of a beautifully restored Victorian farmhouse. Painted white, with gingerbread trim, it was exactly the kind of place Jessi admired. The only flaw in the ambience was a built-on section on its side. A sign above its door declared it to be Dr. Shelby Masters’ Veterinary Clinic.
As Ross and Jessi got out of the truck, a weathered-looking, rail thin man past middle age came out of the house’s front door onto a veranda littered with plastic toys. A small golden-haired cherub trotted after him. In jeans and T-shirt, the little girl had a smile across her rosy-cheeked face.
What a sweetie. A responding smile automatically curled Jessi’s own lips.
“Mr. Turner?” the man addressed Ross.
“Yeah. I understand you have my dog here.” Jessi heard the words coming out cool and unemotional, but she knew Ross, knew how he hated public emotional outbursts.
“That’s right, sir. Doc and her husband are operating on her right now.” He shoved the baseball cap back on his head to scratch his balding head. “Come up on the porch and take a seat. I’m guessin’ you’ll want to wait around for the results. Just mind the toys. Katie Rose, you’re going to have to learn to put that stuff away when you’re done playin’ with it.” He turned to the little girl, who only broadened her smile and caught at his calloused hand.
“Pony, Uncle Grady.”
“Well, now, honey, your mom and dad want me to get coffee for these folks.” He looked down at the child, and Jessi recognized tender tolerance in his expression. “Maybe later.”
A small lower lip pouted out.
“We’ve had more than enough coffee already, but thanks.” She smiled. “But you could take Katie Rose and Ross down to the barn to look over the stock. Katie Rose can show Ross that pony she mentioned. Katie Rose?” She spoke to the child whose expression was brightening at the suggestion. “Ross is a cowboy. He knows lots about horses and ponies. I’ll wait here.” She looked over at Ross, who was scowling at her. “The minute there’s any news, I’ll run down and get you.”
“Sure would appreciate your opinion on some of the stock, Mr. Turner.” The man appeared to have caught her ploy to relieve some of Ross’s stress. “I know your reputation.”
“Okay, okay.” Ross heaved a deep breath and took a firmer grip on his cane.
“Oh, by the way, I’m Grady Wilson.” The man held out a work-hardened right hand toward Jessi, while Katie Rose, now dancing wit
h anticipation, clung to his left. “Mr. Turner and I have already met. I took some seafood chowder over to him a few days back.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wilson.” She accepted the offer. “And I assume this is Katie Rose…maybe Dr. Masters’ daughter?”
“Yep.” He looked down at the child, his fondness glowing out of his sun-bronzed face. “Hers and Jake’s…the doc’s husband. She’s four going on twelve.”
“Hi.” The child grinned up at her. “But I’m almost five.” She held up fingers.
“Nice to meet you, Katie Rose.” A startling sense of envy enveloped Jessi. Shelby Masters-Brooks had it all…a career, this lovely place, a husband who shared in her work, and this beautiful child.
Now where did that come from?
****
“Katie Rose, wait up!” Grady Wilson yelled after the little girl scampering down the road ahead of them. “Lots of mud around after yesterday’s rain”—he turned to Ross, limping by his side—“and that kid could find a puddle in a desert.”
An involuntary grin pulled at Ross’s mouth. Something about the little figure scurrying ahead of them lessened the tightness in his chest. He liked kids, always had enjoyed their naturalness, their unprejudiced outlook. And now he was going to be an uncle. He’d get to enjoy one that was almost his own. But it would be a damned long time before he had any himself. Maybe never. What woman would be willing to marry a lame has-been?
They arrived at the paddock beside the barn, and Grady stopped to catch Katie Rose by the hand as she made a dash toward the locked gate. Four horses and a pinto pony stood inside.
“Pretty!” She looked up at Ross and pointed proudly at the pony.
“Pretty?” Ross glanced over at Grady.
“Yeah, well, I reckon it ain’t much of a name, but that’s what she was dead set on callin’ it, so Shelby and Jake went along.” He grinned, his nut-brown face crinkling into dozens of element-induced lines, familiar to Ross on all the aging cowboys he’d known. A comfortable sense of being at home settled over him. He liked Grady Wilson…and this place and the horses and the little girl.
“The pretty charcoal mare with the silver mane and tail is the doc’s horse, Fancy. The sorrel is the main training horse for beginning riders. Her name is Candy. Great, patient little gal. The big black gelding is Midnight Brandy. He belongs to the doc’s brother, Travis. He can give a rider a bit of a challenge if he isn’t shown who’s boss right off. Our stud Midnight Black is in the barn. He’s hot after Candy, so he’s penned up.”
“That big albino gelding looks pretty fine.” Ross turned his attention to the snow-white animal that had come to the fence to nuzzle the wrangler. “He seems fond of you.”
“We have a history.” Grady rubbed the horse’s nose affectionately. “I used to be a wrangler on movie sets. Silver, here, was an actor in a lot of films. I trained him.”
“How did the pair of you end up here?”
“Ah, well, long story. Sometime over a beer, maybe. Come on.” He took Katie Rose by the hand. “I’ll introduce you to our stud. He’s quite the boy.”
As Grady Wilson led the way through the well-kept stable to a steel-barred box stall at the end, Ross drew a deep breath.
Damn, it’s good to be back in a barn, to smell horses and hay…and all the rest of it.
“Here’s the lad.” Grady stopped in front of the bars behind which a coal black stallion stood, pawing and snorting. “He hasn’t had much training lately, what with Travis on the road and him the only one who can put him through his paces. Jake rides him once in a while, but he don’t have the know-how to train a big bugger…excuse me, Katie Rose…a big fella like the Black.”
“The Black?” Ross stared through the bars at the stallion.
Damn, but he’s one magnificent piece of horse flesh. Riding him would be something to remember.
“Well, his name is Midnight Black, but we all just call him the Black.”
“Black bad.” Katie Rose, in Grady’s arms pointed to the stallion.
“Now, missy, that’s not right.” Grady placed her on her feet on the stable floor. “He’s just a big, strong guy who hasn’t been getting enough training.”
“Pretty, Grady, Pretty.” The little girl pulled on his hand.
“Guess I’ll have to go saddle up that pony.” Grady grinned. “All right, all right, Black,” he soothed the stallion as the animal began to half-rear and snort. “I’ll play some tunes for you.” He reached to a shelf on the wall by the stall and snapped on a dusty CD player. The moment the strains of a country western ballad issued from it, the horse quieted, snorted softly, and settled down, apparently to listen.
“What’s that all about?” Ross couldn’t disguise his amazement.
“No one understands it.” Grady grinned and shook his head. “Travis discovered the big guy had a soft spot for the music of Jordan Brooks a few years back. It’s the only thing that never fails to quiet him.”
“Can’t say I blame him.” Ross returned the wrangler’s grin. “I was a big fan of Jordan Brooks. Almost got to meet him once at a rodeo in Wyoming.”
“Oh, yeah?” Grady shot Ross a look he couldn’t interpret before the older man let the child lead him out of the barn toward the paddock.
****
Jessi jumped to her feet as Shelby Masters, wearing blue scrubs, came out onto the veranda.
“Tell me.”
“It was touch-and-go for a bit, but now it looks much better.” The vet drew a deep breath.
“So Fox will be okay?”
“I don’t want to be overly optimistic, but it appears promising.” Shelby turned to smile at the tall, handsome man, similarly dressed, who came out of the house to join her. “Thanks, Jake. As always, you did great.”
“I managed, Shel, but I don’t think I’ll ever get over being ’way too empathetic with your patients.” He grinned down at her, and she put a hand on his arm.
“Jessi, I’d like you to meet my husband and unofficial vet tech.” Shelby turned to her. “Jake Brooks. Jake, this is Jessi Wallace. I told you about her. She’s staying with Ross Turner out at the old farm down the road.”
“Nice to meet you, Jessi.” He stuck out a hand. “We’ve heard about you. A miracle worker with traumatized horses, right? We had one here a few years back that could have used your help. Remember Grey Lady, Shel?”
“Definitely. Injured in a vehicle accident. She finally came around, but if you’d been available it probably would have taken a lot less time and experimentation to find what worked for her.”
“Sometimes a reputation gets blown out of proportion.” Jessi hoped she wasn’t going to blush. “Now I’d better get down to the barn and tell Ross it looks hopeful for his girl. He doesn’t like to show his feelings, but I know he loves that little dog. She’s been good therapy for him since he came here.”
“Go.” Shelby turned to go back into the house. “I feel the need for some very hot, very strong coffee. Coming, Jake?”
“Sure.” He paused. “Jessi, I’d like to meet Ross. I used to be around the rodeo circuit years ago. He’s a living legend.”
“Were you a performer?” Surprised, Jessi looked up at him and something in those blue eyes, broad shoulders, and suntanned face brought a vague sense of recognition.
“Sort of. Let’s go, Shel. We have a lot to do yet today, and that coffee might just set us up.”
Why is he so anxious to leave when I asked a simple question? Shelby headed for the barn, wondering.
****
Ross was watching Katie Rose, mounted on Pretty, circling the round pen beside the barn, Grady’s hand on the bridle, when Jessi’s voice made him turn. She was striding toward him and was it…? Yes, definitely—her face was bright and smiling.
“Ross!” she yelled. “Fox is out of surgery! Doctor Masters is optimistic!”
All but running, he began to stumble up the lane to meet her. When he met her, she caught him by the arm, her expression putting a sunr
ise to shame.
“Ross, Shelby says it looks good,” she said. “Fox will need a lot of rest and care, but…”
“Who gives a damn!” Overwhelmed with relief, he shrugged her off and continued on his way, stumping as fast as the cane would allow.
On the veranda of the house, he was greeted by the couple, still in scrubs, coffee cups in hands. The woman he assumed was the vet, the tall man by her side probably her husband. Something about the man seemed vaguely familiar, but he shrugged it aside in his concern for his dog.
“Mr. Turner, I’m Dr. Shelby Masters, and this is my husband, Jake Brooks.” She held out a hand.
“Good to meet you, Doc.” Ross could barely contain his impatience long enough to accept the introduction. “How’s Fox?”
“Doing well, considering.” The doctor—he was only slowly coming to recognize what a beautiful woman she was—indicated one of the lawn chairs on the veranda. “Please sit down.”
“I’m fine. I’ll stand.” Balking at her suggestion and only afterwards realizing it had probably simply been a polite invitation, not a concession to his disability, he leaned his hips against the railing.
“Okay.” The doctor took a seat, with Jessi following her. Jake Brooks opted to take up a stance not far from Ross, against a supporting post.
“Tell me.” Ross looked squarely at the doctor.
“Sergeant Frasier MacKenzie’s wife found Fox in a ditch near the lane that leads to your farm.” Shelby pushed a stray curl back into her ponytail. “Well, Emma MacKenzie said it was actually her Pug Bruiser that found her. Fox had apparently been struck by a car when she was trying to get back to you.”
“Jesus! I didn’t see her. I drove up and down that road a dozen times.”
“It may not have happened until some time after you lost her,” Jake Brooks offered. “It would have taken her quite a while to get that far from Carleton. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Yeah, okay, that could be the case. Still, God only knows how long she lay in that ditch…”
“Ross, it won’t help to dwell on it.” Jessi looked over at him, and he saw genuine compassion in her eyes.
“Jessi is right,” Shelby said. “What is important now is that she’s safe and well cared for.”
Cowboy Confessions Page 9
