“To be sure you do it right” hung unsaid in the air between them.
Allie gritted her teeth and concentrated on her patient, leaning half under the belly and closer to the kicking end than she liked. Smoothly she slid the needle under the skin and pressed the plunger, infusing a local anesthetic to provide a pain-free experience. For all of them. Twelve hundred pounds of uncooperative horse objecting to being hurt might just ruin her day.
“Are you using too much?” The harsh voice right in her ear made her jump. A few drops of lidocaine dripped on the ground.
The horse shifted nervously, bumping against the pasture fence.
Allie grimaced. “Back up, Tim. You’re in my light, and you need to stay at his head. You can’t hold him if you’re right on top of me.”
His foot shushed through the grass as he edged back.
“Well, are you using too much?”
“No.”
“Doc Haines—”
“Would have done it like this, too,” she snapped, testing the skin with the sharp point. The horse didn’t flinch, so she shaved and disinfected the area, then opened a sterile needle. Tim edged closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and slid the large needle into the lower part of the swelling. A stream of blood and serum gushed out.
The horse twitched at a fly but didn’t react.
“There we go.”
“About time,” Tim grumbled.
Allie ignored him and concentrated on palpating the swollen area to express as much fluid as possible. When she was satisfied she’d gotten it all, she straightened. “I’ll give him a shot of antibiotic, and then we’re done. Keep him away from that nasty-tempered gray mare. No point in having her kick him again.”
“Doc Haines—”
Allie counted to ten. Silently. In three languages.
The horse nickered and rubbed his head against her, shoving her back a step. She laughed. “Where do you want him?”
Tim gestured at an empty corral. “In there,” he said, and stood back as Allie turned the horse loose, closed the gate, and leaned on the fence to observe him.
Tim joined her. The horse dipped his nose in the water trough for a drink, then nibbled idly at the hay in the feed box.
A memory of leaning against a fence like this with Zeph flashed in her mind. Back when she thought they might have a future. She shoved the memory away. “Call me if the swelling comes back, Tim. But I’ll swing by and check him tomorrow on my way to Harley’s.”
“Not going to pay for two visits.”
“No charge.” Unlike your precious Doc Haines.
“Okay then,” he said reluctantly. “You did a good job.” The words came grudgingly.
Allie sighed with relief at what was an absolute accolade, given the source.
She’d gotten her D.V.M. She’d come home to set up her practice. She’d won approval, however reluctant, from one of the old fashioned, the-little-woman-belongs-in-the-kitchen ranchers who owned her prospective patients.
And she had a lunch date with her best friend.
Life looked good.
****
“Hey, Hannah,” Allie called as she went through the door of Betty’s Café.
“Hey, yourself. How’s business?” Hannah said from the booth by the window.
Allie slid into the seat facing the door and told her friend about Tim’s grudging acceptance. “And he paid the bill right there on the spot.”
“Way to go!”
Betty zoomed up to the table, order pad in hand. “Good for you, Doctor Allie,” she said, pouring coffee. “That old fool needs to have his nose rubbed in it by a woman who knows what she’s doing.”
“Gee, tell us how you really feel about him, Betty,” Allie said.
Betty took their order and went off toward the kitchen, muttering under her breath.
“Glad we can’t hear that,” Hannah said and leaned across the table. “I’m so happy you’re back in town. I’ve missed you.”
“Not to mention that Stone’s Crossing really needs a vet.”
Hannah grinned. “That, too.”
“I’m happy to be back. I hated being away. And since Dad’s heart attack, I’m staying where I can be here for him.”
“Like staying here isn’t what you’ve always wanted anyway. I know how you feel about cities.” Hannah grinned. “But we both did pretty good in the achieving dreams department. I’ve got the ranch—”
And Luke. Allie bit back envy. Sometimes she almost got lonesome enough to call Zeph.
“—and you’ve got your practice.” The door behind Hannah banged open, and the buzz of conversation that filled the café faded into silence.
Allie looked up. Her mind blanked. Her hand went numb. Her coffee mug hit the table.
Hannah stemmed the flood with a handful of paper napkins. “Allie? You’re white as my albino goat. Are you all right?”
No. Not by a long shot she wasn’t.
Zeph stepped through the door and proved that her insane attraction to him hadn’t waned one bit.
Everything about him still made her hormones sit up and beg. Before That Night, that miserable, jealousy-provoking night when she’d ended what might have been a relationship with one terse note left by the telephone, she and Hannah had giggled over tall, dark, and delicious as the perfect description, but it went beyond that.
They hadn’t talked about the aura of danger that gave edge to his suave looks. Or about the way he radiated testosterone like the sun radiated whatever it put out. Or about the wide-shouldered, rock-muscled body that really cranked her tractor.
Zeph Granger, sophisticated beyond belief, the ultimate urbanite.
Not a good choice for a woman who didn’t do one-of-a-crowd. A country girl who hated cities. One who loved her tiny mountain home more than chocolate.
“Zeph,” she said helplessly, and wanted to kick herself. No wimpy little voice. No tractor cranking.
“Zeph!” Hannah whirled and jumped up to hug him. “It’s so good to see you. Come sit with us.” She dragged him to the table.
Zeph looked down at Allie, the concern in his dark eyes melting her brain. “Allie?” he said.
“Hello, Zeph.”
Zeph slid into the booth beside her, and she practically leaped toward the wall. If he touched her, she’d explode or cry or do something else equally unsuitable. Like beg him to— She clenched her fists in her lap. No.
Hannah broke the awkward silence. “We didn’t know you were coming, Zeph. Why didn’t you let us know to expect you? Are you going to stay with us? Of course not, you must be here to see Allie, and—”
Allie concentrated on breathing. Hannah didn’t know about That Night. So of course she assumed Zeph had come to see Allie. But he hadn’t, and all Allie had to do was stay calm and he’d do whatever he’d come for and go away and everything would be fine. Just fine.
Except that Betty zipped up to the table and hugged Zeph. “Well, if it ain’t the City Boy. You come courtin’ our Doctor Allie? Might as well set yourself down and get started. I’ll bring your lunch with hers. The usual?”
He nodded.
“Coming right up. Good to see you again.” Betty marched back to the kitchen without giving him a chance to nod, much less answer.
Allie had to say something, but that phrase “courting Doctor Allie” had frozen her tongue. At the same time, her impractical heart galloped with a hope her brain refused to admit.
Hannah got to her feet. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” She headed for the ladies room.
Zeph’s face shouted discomfort topped with that male let-me-out-of-here expression. He squared his shoulders and turned to face her. “Allie, we have to talk.”
“Do we?” she said in a surprisingly steady voice.
“I need your help.”
Hope died. “Of course. You’re on a job.”
“I jumped at the chance to see you.”
The flatness in his voice told Allie she’d h
it on the truth. He hadn’t come to see her.
“It’s an undercover assignment.”
“You didn’t come here to, if you’ll pardon the expression, court me.”
If the well-padded booth had been stuffed with thumb tacks, he couldn’t have appeared more uncomfortable. “Allie, I— No.”
He looked so miserable that she almost wanted to laugh. If she did, though, the laughter might turn to tears.
“I was going to pretend, but I can’t,” he said. “I’ve never lied to you and I don’t want to start.”
Right. “Why me? You could visit Luke and Hannah again.”
“Too far out of town.”
“Anyway, Monty and radio station Betty know you’re a private detective. How long do you think undercover can last?”
A grin flashed across his face, the quick amusement that always melted her. “Depends on how many people you tell I’m here under false pretenses.”
“I don’t talk about you. To anyone.” The hurt on his face gave her a pang, but anger stiffened her resolve and she squashed it.
Silence filled the booth like a heavy fog. She couldn’t say that his gaze pleaded for help, but it didn’t miss by much.
A girl could drown in those soulful, espresso-dark eyes, but Allie hardened her heart and shrugged. “Too bad I’m not in a mood to be courted. You know where Monty’s office is. Good luck with your investigation.”
Zeph shifted in his seat. “If that’s all I can get. But don’t tell people why I’m here. Please.”
“Allie’s not a gossip,” Hannah said from behind him.
“No, she isn’t, but—”
“Please,” Hannah mimicked. “You’re worried she’ll tell. But you said you need her help.”
“I do. But you shouldn’t have heard any of that.”
“Allie would have told me anyway. So if you can’t talk her into helping, what’s your excuse for being in town?”
“Vacation? Wanting to relax?”
“Who’s going to buy that?”
“He could bring one of his bimbos and pretend they’re hiding from her husband,” Allie sniped. “That might have the advantage of being true.”
Her acid tone elicited a puzzled glance from Hannah, but Zeph spoke before awkward questions arose.
“I’ve never dated a married woman,” he said, clearly stung by the insult. He grimaced. “At least, not knowingly.”
“How noble.” Allie glared at him, wanting to hate him.
“You have to give him points for not pretending,” Hannah said.
“You keep out of this,” Allie and Zeph said together, and looked at each other. Allie’s gaze dropped, and she inched closer to the wall.
Hannah giggled. “I’d leave, but Betty’s bringing our lunch in a minute. Want me to go sit on the other side of the room?”
“No,” Allie and Zeph once more said in tandem. Allie peeked through her lashes at him. His answering glance shot heat through her.
“You two ought to take that show on the road,” Hannah said. “So tell us about the case, Zeph. Maybe that will convince Allie she should help.”
“Frank Fitzgerald—Luke’s lawyer, I don’t think you ever met him, Allie—called my company to investigate a scam and they sent me up here because I know Allie. It’s important to keep the investigation undercover until we know what’s going on.”
Allie let herself meet Zeph’s gaze, forced herself to visualize those pictures, to remember the phone calls. And Camille. “How long are you going to be here?”
“As long as it takes.”
Betty set three salads on the table. “Chicken’s coming. You want anything else?”
“No, thanks,” Allie said. “We’re fine, Betty.”
“You don’t look fine. Some lovers’ reunion this is. Hmph.” Betty stomped off to the kitchen. “Young ’uns today don’t know nothin’. Can’t…” Her words faded as she went through the door.
Allie and Hannah traded helpless glances. Hannah swallowed a giggle. “Well, it is funny,” Hannah defended herself, and picked up her fork. “You two just go ahead. I’m going to eat my lunch and try to stay out of the line of fire.”
Allie swallowed an almost-smile. It was funny. If you didn’t know the whole story. So getting Zeph to leave made more sense than anything else. Self-preservation, right? Allie closed her eyes and prepared to jump. “Okay.” She set her fork down and leaned her elbows on the table. “Here’s the deal, Zeph. Whatever you’re here to dig up probably needs digging, so I’m going to help you. You can act as though I’m the reason you came to Stone’s Crossing. We’ll both—all three—know it’s an act, but…”
If she’d dumped ice water in his lap, Zeph couldn’t have looked more surprised. “Just like that? Why?”
Because pretending a romantic involvement would be better than nothing? No. Because maybe he’d decide it was for real? Absolutely not. Because she was an idiot? Possibly. “Just because we’re not going to be—” She gulped and took a deep breath to steady herself. “—the romance of the century doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. Friends help each other.” Her hands shook too much to go back to eating so she folded them in her lap. Pathetic. A pretend romance with Zeph had her engines revving even though it was the last thing she should want. Correction—the last thing she did want.
“So it’s really going to be pretend? I wouldn’t mind courting you, but you made it plain you weren’t interested.”
Hannah raised her hand.
“What?” Allie snapped.
“Did you dump him?” Hannah bristled and glared at her.
“I thought you were going to stay out of the line of fire.”
“Not if you’re doing stupid things. How could you? And you didn’t even tell me.”
Allie turned away from Hannah. Unfortunately, that brought her face-to-face with Zeph. At least his expression didn’t broadcast triumph. She might have hit him it if had. His face showed no expression at all, and he ignored Hannah. He must be a terrific poker player.
“Thank you, Allie. This is very generous of you. And your help will make a big difference.”
“No problem. Always glad to help justice prevail.” Allie waved one hand, trying for airy unconcern.
Zeph frowned, glanced at Hannah. Looked back at Allie. “Are you—” He swallowed and began again. “You sure it’s going to be pretend? I—”
“No.” Might as well keep saying that. She reminded her heart of the hot and cold running women in his Los Angeles house. Also the noise and smog and crowds. “We’re just friends.”
“But in Stone’s Crossing, we’re lovers.” Zeph put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed her.
Her heart raced and she had to fight to keep from melting against him.
“Well, that’s more like it,” Betty said. “I’ll just stand here holding these hot plates until you’re done.”
Chapter 2
Zeph leaned against his Carrera, more relieved than he wanted to admit. Allie had gone for it, thank God, because he didn’t know how he could have worked here without her for cover. This could be the most important case of his career. When he nailed the honcho of what could be one of the biggest scams in the state, he’d get a partnership in the firm, and he wanted that like he wanted air to breathe.
He hadn’t expected to be so disturbed by seeing Allie again. She’d made a guest appearance in his dreams every night since he’d last seen her, but still... Focus on the job, Granger.
At least she had agreed to the plan. The sudden lack of tension after he’d worried all the way from L. A. left him ready for a beer or a fast game of handball or... No, not that. No women. Not while he pretended to court Allie. Unsettling thoughts squirmed in the dark recesses of his mind, images of happiness and forever and other scary things. Images that didn’t seem so scary when Allie starred in them.
Concentrate, damn it. She’d be a help, a big help, no matter why she’d agreed. And being around her wouldn’t be a hardsh
ip. Maybe he’d even get her to change her mind about the pretending.
She walked away, the trim back view and tight jeans raising his temperature considerably. Now all he had to do was succeed without losing his head over her. But Jeeee-zus, she made him hot.
His mother had liked Allie’s voice, thought answering the phone to tell her all was well had shown good character. And had suggested his near-obsession was only because Allie hadn’t fallen into his hand like a ripe plum.
Ridiculous. Although...he wasn’t used to women ignoring him, especially in favor of horses, for God’s sake, and the first time he’d seen Allie she’d been so excited about her baby horse that she hadn’t even noticed him. So maybe that was it. Or maybe Allie really had something special.
She climbed into a big, muscular-looking truck and started the engine. He hurried to follow her to the clinic. They had a lot to talk about.
Like his case, he reminded himself. He’d better stay focused if he expected that partnership.
Right outside the town limits Allie turned left into a driveway, and he slowed to stay behind her. A big sign announced that he’d found the town animal clinic. A barn and several corrals around it bolstered the claim. He parked and tagged after Allie into the main building, which had once been a big, old ranch house. The Spanish style looked familiar enough to his L. A.-trained eyes. Red tile roof, white plaster. Bright geraniums like the ones his mother grew spilling out of big pots on a shady veranda.
He stepped through a carved door that would have done credit to an old Spanish mission. Even the unmistakable sharp hospital-like smell couldn’t ruin its beauty. What once had been a living room had been turned into a reception area, but the reception desk and the benches around the walls couldn’t disguise the old tile floor, striking stone fireplace, and elegant woodwork. “This must have been a real show place,” he said in a neutral voice.
Allie’s so not-neutral once-over hovered just short of a glare. “We need to talk. My office.” She turned on her heel and stalked into a room that he figured had originally been the library.
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, swallowing a smile. “You’re beautiful when you’re mad” could get a chair thrown at him. But, damn, things became clichés because they were true, and anger sharpened her blonde beauty to a point just short of pain. Not that Allie didn’t rev his engine when those blue, blue eyes went all soft and sweet.
Zeph Undercover Page 2
