The Doctor's Calling

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The Doctor's Calling Page 6

by Stella Bagwell


  The older man was kneeling on the floor, cleaning out the bottom drawer of a metal cabinet, when Laurel entered the room. He looked around, then cocked a questioning brow at her.

  “Need something, Lauralee?” he asked, using the nickname he’d hung on her the very first day they’d met more than five years ago.

  Maccoy was five foot six at the most and barely carried enough fat to cover his bones. But he was as strong as an ox and never seemed to run out of energy. His sparse hair was a mix of red and gray, and Laurel figured at one time in his youth he’d been a fiery carrottop with a personality to match. Now his face was terribly wrinkled and weather-beaten, but most of it was usually dusted with a layer of rust-red, day-old whiskers. As for his personality, the gruffness of his voice couldn’t hide the enormous size of his heart.

  “Nope. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be gone for a couple of hours. The movers are ready to load my things, and I need to be at the apartment to make sure they get what I want to take with me and leave behind what I don’t want.”

  He shot her a smug grin. “I moved all my stuff yesterday evening. In fact, I’m gonna spend my first night in the bunkhouse with the boys tonight.”

  Laurel smiled at him while wishing she felt as chipper about this move as Maccoy did. “You sound happy about it.”

  “Why the hell not? This new job is gonna be like walking down easy street compared to this workhouse,” he said frankly.

  Shortly after Laurel had started working at Hollister Animal Clinic, it had been easy to see that Maccoy was the wheel that kept the spokes of the outfit held together. He kept everything in order, including hysterical and demanding pet owners.

  “No one works harder than you do around here, Maccoy. I’m glad a load is going to be lifted from your shoulders.”

  A wry grin twisted up one corner of his lips. “I’m gonna have company, too. My darlin’ Mae died more than fifteen years ago, and I’ve been by myself ever since. It’ll be nice to have a person to talk to or have a game of cards with once in a while.”

  “I’m happy to hear you’re looking forward to it,” she told him, while thinking she was a lot like Maccoy. She’d been left on her own for a long time now, and after a while she’d gotten used to it, but that didn’t mean she necessarily liked living a solitary life. She just didn’t know how to go about changing it without taking a major risk, one that might open her up to a world of hurt.

  Rising to his feet, the old man lifted one of the boxes from the floor and placed it on a nearby desk. “Well, the happiest part about all this is Russ. I’ve been praying he’d realize he needed to let up and get a life. And he’s finally doing it.”

  With a thoughtful tilt to her head, she looked at the elderly man as he shuffled through a stack of files. “Maccoy, what do you think caused Russ to make this move? To be honest, the news knocked me for a loop. I wouldn’t have guessed he had anything like this on his mind.”

  “Hmm. Well, Russ keeps his feelings pretty much to himself. But I’d say he finally figured out that he was plain ole tired. And he’s figured out, too, that he’s made a boatload of money over the years and it hasn’t made him happy. Put those two things together and it probably wasn’t hard for him to see he needed to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Russ was not a wishy-washy man. He was stable, methodical and confident about his work, Laurel thought. Each task he performed was done with precision, and his focus remained on a steady, straightforward course until it was completed. He was a man who rarely made changes. Unless he thought they were needed. The fact that he’d never replaced her or Maccoy was proof of that.

  “Maybe so. I just have a feeling there was more to his decision than that. But I suppose it doesn’t matter now. We’re all headed to the Chaparral. Let’s hope it was the right thing to do—for all of us.”

  With a shake of his head, he walked over and curled an arm around Laurel’s shoulders. “You’ve always worried too much, Lauralee. You need to look at life like ridin’ a bronc. The moment you start gettin’ scared and stiff, that’s the split second you’re gonna fall off.”

  Laurel couldn’t help but chuckle and she leaned over and kissed his grizzled cheek. “I’ll try to remember that, Maccoy. Right now I’d better be going.”

  Later that night, Laurel stood in the middle of her new living room and marveled at all the space that still remained around her even after the moving men had hauled in her television, two wooden rockers, several lamps, potted plants and a magazine rack.

  Moving into her beautiful little house had taken away some of the sting of leaving the familiar confines of the clinic back in town. And as she moved around the rooms, singing along with the radio, unpacking boxes and placing items where she wanted them to be, she decided that Maccoy was right. She needed to quit worrying so much and start enjoying.

  But being fearful and anxious were traits she’d developed long ago, when she’d first learned that her sister was ill. At ten years old, most healthy children didn’t dwell on death or dying. Laurel certainly hadn’t. She and Lainey had both been carefree, bubbly girls who found more reasons to laugh than cry. But in a matter of days, Lainey had gone from feeling tired to being diagnosed with a serious blood disease. And from that moment on, Laurel had learned just how fragile and changeable life could be.

  After her sister’s diagnosis, Laurel had pretty much gone from fun-loving child to nursemaid and constant companion to her ailing sister. As a result, she’d lost friendships, missed important milestones and been forced to grow up overnight. And each time Lainey’s health had deteriorated to a new low, Laurel’s usually sunny optimism had sunk, until one day it disappeared completely.

  Now, years after the loss of her sister, Laurel struggled to instill herself with any sort of hope. Most of the time, she expected the worst, so that when the worst came, she’d be prepared. She knew it was not a pretty outlook for anyone to have, yet she didn’t know how to break out of the darkness that surrounded her.

  She was placing a stack of folded clothes into a dresser drawer when she heard a faint knock on the front door. Surprised that anyone would be stopping by on this cold night, she hurried through the house.

  Russ was the last person she expected to see when she opened the door. But there he was, standing in the middle of the porch, bundled in a heavy parka, a large brown bag tucked beneath one arm.

  He grinned at her faintly. “May I come in?”

  Her heart beating fast, she pushed the door wider. “Certainly.”

  “The movers just left my place,” he said as he followed her into the house. “I thought I’d eat before I started unpacking, and I have plenty for two. I took a chance that you’d still be here and drove down.”

  She’d not seen Russ since earlier this afternoon, before she’d left the clinic to deal with the moving van. He’d not mentioned anything about stopping by, and the idea that he wanted to share his meal with her was more than surprising. There’d been times in the past when he’d done something thoughtful for her, like an extra bonus on her check for no particular reason, or paying the cost of the movers as he had today. But he’d never done anything this personal, and she could only wonder why he was doing it now.

  “I decided I might as well stay here tonight,” she said as she walked toward the kitchen. “There’s nothing left at my apartment, except a bed without linens and a bare refrigerator and cupboards. Besides, we only have one more day left at the clinic. I don’t mind making the drive in the morning.”

  “No need for that. I’ll stop by and pick you up,” he told her as he placed the sack on the pine tabletop.

  Turning, she looked at him. “Oh. You’re staying here on the ranch tonight, too?”

  He nodded. “My house back in town is stripped of everything, even furniture. I don’t think I’d get much rest sleeping on a hard floor.”

  So tonight he would be staying in his house, which was a short distance up the mountain from her, she thought. From now on when the two of
them weren’t working, they would be close neighbors. The idea filled her with a strange mixture of unease and excitement.

  “I doubt it,” she agreed, then turned back to the cabinet counter where a stack of dishes still sat in a heavy cardboard box. “Do we need plates?”

  “There’s paper ones with the food. I can eat off anything,” he told her.

  She collected the plates and utensils to go with them, while he pulled the containers of food from the sack.

  “I have to confess, I wasn’t smart enough to think about stopping and getting anything to eat before I drove out here,” he said. “Reena was kind enough to send this out to me.”

  As she joined him at the table, a whiff of fried chicken caused her mouth to water. “That was very thoughtful of her.”

  “Yeah. One of the ranch hands delivered it a few minutes ago. It appears they want us to feel welcome,” he said. “And I appreciate that.”

  “So do I,” she agreed as she placed one plate at the end of the table for him and another at the side for her. “I’m not sure I have any soda for drinks. But we can always have water or coffee.”

  “Reena sent a thermos of something to drink, too,” he said as he reached into the sack and pulled out a small red-and-white insulated thermos with a handle on the top. “I think it’s full of iced tea. There’s also salt, pepper and hot sauce in the sack.”

  “The woman thought of everything,” Laurel said with amazement. “I’ll be sure to thank her when I’m over at the big house.”

  She gestured for him to take a seat at the end of the table. “Sit down and I’ll see if I can find the boxes with my glassware.”

  Once she returned with the glasses and was seated kitty-corner to his right, Russ poured their drinks and they began to fill their plates with the food Reena had so graciously supplied.

  “Did you bring Leo with you tonight?” she asked as she ladled baked beans on her plate.

  “Yes. And he’s pretty angry with me right now, because I made him ride out here in a cat carrier.”

  Laurel chuckled. “What else would a cat ride in?”

  “Oh, he thinks he’s above that. He wants to sit on the truck seat, like a dog. When you found that stray, you found one of a kind,” he said with wry fondness. “What about your dogs and cats?”

  “The dogs are out back in their doghouse, and the cats are here in the house somewhere. They were terrified. All three made a dash beneath the bed.”

  “They’ll get used to their new surroundings,” he assured her. “We all will with time.”

  She looked at him, her gaze slowly wandering over his rugged face. The rusty-brown whiskers that covered his jaws and circled his lips were even longer than usual, and faint lines of fatigue were etched beneath his eyes. His sandy-blond hair curled ever so slightly around his ears, and the top looked as though he’d finger combed it to one side in order to keep the thick hank of fringe out of his eyes. His appearance was nothing close to being groomed, she thought, yet he was a delicious sight. One that reminded her she was hungry for more than just the food on her plate.

  Forcing her gaze back to her plate, she tried to keep the memory of his kiss at bay. “We haven’t actually had time to discuss this, but when exactly did you plan to start work here on the ranch?”

  “Not officially until Monday. But I plan to drive over to the ranch yard on Saturday morning and look over the facilities. Quint has gone to great pains to create a regular animal hospital for us. Would you like to go along? I thought you might be anxious to see it, too.”

  Why did it seem as if they were suddenly doing so much more together as a pair? she wondered. Nothing had really changed in that aspect. She and Russ had worked and traveled together all over Lincoln County and beyond. They’d spent hours and hours alone together, and though she’d always found him attractive, she’d never before been consumed with this new sexual tension that had sprung up between them. She’d never been so aware of being a female as she was now—now that he’d given her that kiss.

  Oh, God, this was going to be so hard, she thought. But hard or not, she had to forget. She had to remember they were working partners and nothing more.

  “Sure, I’d like to tag along,” she said as casually as she could. “I’m eager to see our new work area. Even before we look at everything, I can tell you that Quint has provided you with the best medicine and equipment. That’s just the type of people the Cantrells are. But there is something that’s been bothering me a bit about this whole thing.”

  He looked over at her, a faint crease marring his forehead. “What is that?” he wanted to know.

  “I’m going to miss treating all the small animals that passed through the clinic in town. From now on, we’ll be working on cattle and horses, calves and foals. I’m going to miss the cats and dogs and bunnies and birds and all the other furry and feathered creatures we cared for.”

  His features softened with understanding. “I’m sure there will be pets on the ranch that will need vet services,” he told her, then added with a suggestive grin, “and you can always give Leo his vaccines and parasite treatments.”

  Laurel suddenly laughed, because they both had experienced the black cat’s horrible attitude about taking shots and pills. “Thanks, Russ. But I don’t think I’ll miss small animal care that much.”

  He laughed along with her and the easy exchange allowed Laurel to relax. For the next few minutes, she was able to enjoy the food on her plate while they discussed some of the bigger projects they’d be dealing with come spring, when both calves and foals began to drop.

  After they finished eating their share of chicken and accompanying vegetables, she made coffee to go with the slices of chocolate cake that the Chaparral cook had provided for dessert. As Laurel stood at the cabinet counter waiting for the brewing to finish, she suggested, “I suppose we could take our dessert out to the living room and eat it in front of the fireplace. There isn’t a fire, but we could pretend.”

  “Why pretend?” he said as he rose to his feet. “There’s a stack of firewood on the front porch. I’ll build one for you.”

  “Would you?” she asked gratefully. “I’ve never had a fireplace. I don’t know the first thing about building a fire. Now that I’m living out here, I need to learn.”

  “Then we’ll need a bit of paper and a box of matches. Think you can find those things while I carry in the wood?” he asked.

  “No problem,” she told him. “I’ll meet you in the living room.”

  Short minutes later, Russ knelt before the native-rock hearth and motioned for Laurel to join him. “First of all, you need to learn how to stack everything,” he said as she eased down close to his side. “Crumple the paper and place it on the grates first, then the kindling.”

  “Exactly what is this kindling you’re using?” she asked as she laid the paper across the iron grates. “It looks different from sticks of firewood.”

  “That’s because it is different. It’s chopped pieces of seasoned pine, like old pine knots or logs that have died and turned hard. It makes a quick, hot flame because it’s full of resin.”

  Just as he’d started a sudden, hot flame in her that night he’d kissed her, she thought. She’d never felt such an instant jolt of sensations in her life. Had he felt it, too? she wondered. No. He’d been a married man once. He knew all about kissing and making love and experiencing passions of the flesh. Whereas she’d had very little experience with the opposite sex.

  Clearing her throat, she asked, “Will I always need kindling to start a fire?”

  “If you start it from scratch, you will.” He crossed several sticks of firewood over the kindling, then stuck a lighted match to the paper. The tiny flame quickly grew as it reached the pine, then licked its way up the small logs. “But the forest around here is full of pine. I’ll keep it chopped for you.”

  “Oooh, that already feels good and warm,” she said as she sat back on her haunches and shoved her open palms toward the growing flames
. “This is going to be nice. Coming home to a fire after a cold day at work.”

  He turned his head to look at her, and as Laurel met his gaze, her breath caught in her throat. The warm glint in his eyes was not a reflection of the hot flames. No, it was that same look she’d seen that night he’d kissed her. She’d never expected to see it again, and suddenly her heart was thudding rapidly.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “It will be nice.”

  Every womanly particle inside her wanted to lean into him. She wanted to relive the experience of his lips against hers, moving, tasting, teasing. She wanted to rest her hands upon his shoulders and feel the hard strength of his muscles. She wanted—

  Determined not to let desire take a total grip on her senses, she mentally shook herself and started to rise. “Uh—I think—the fire is going,” she said, her voice oddly hoarse. “I’ll go get the coffee and cake.”

  Halfway to her feet, Russ caught her by the hand and tugged her back down on the braided rug. The momentum caused her to fall sideways, but rather than steadying her to an upright position, he pulled her directly into his arms.

  “Forget the cake and coffee,” he ordered under his breath.

  Her eyes wide, she unwittingly wedged her palms between his chest and hers as though that was enough to deter any further contact between them. “Russ—what—”

  “I was a fool for saying we should forget that kiss, Laurel. I’ve been a fool for waiting this long to kiss you again.”

  Her gasp of surprise was suddenly swallowed up as he fastened his mouth hungrily over hers, and with a tiny whimper of surrender, she closed her eyes and let the flood of sensations sweep her away.

  Chapter Five

  Russ didn’t know how long he continued to kiss Laurel. Nor did he realize that the two of them had listed sideways and onto the braided rug. The where or why didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except having her soft lips beneath his, her warm body pressed against him.

 

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