by Janet Dailey
“I used to be. Long story. But right now, I’m more interested in how an Arizona vet wound up in the Texas boondocks. Wasn’t your GPS working?”
“Damn thing hasn’t worked right in days. Whoever that woman’s voice belongs to, I think she’s mad at me. But then, I haven’t had great luck with women lately.”
“You promised me a story,” Travis said.
“So I did. And a sad tale it is. The moral is, never marry a girl with a rich daddy—especially a rich daddy who buys her whatever her greedy little heart desires, including a million-dollar house.”
“And that’s what got you lost in Texas?”
“I’m getting to that.” Rush switched the headlights on high beam. They lit up the road for half a mile. “I wanted to be the one to support her and our baby girl. But after four years, she decided that being married to a guy who was always working wasn’t much fun. She found some idiot with a trust fund, kicked me out, and moved him in. Since the house was in her name and we had a prenuptial, she was within her rights to do that. I’d have shrugged it off, except for our daughter and the fact that my veterinary practice was on the property, attached to the house. She put her daddy’s lawyers to work, and I was toast. I was lucky to keep my equipment. I’ve got it with me now, loaded in the back.”
Forty yards ahead, two deer bounded into the headlights. Rush’s foot jerked to the brake pedal. “Easy, now.” Travis cautioned him. “Just light taps, like I told you, or you’ll skid and spin off the road.”
Rush did as he was told. The lumbering vehicle slowed and shuddered to a stop, the engine dying, as two more deer came leaping out of the trees and crossed the road, one so close that its haunch brushed the grille. Rush sank back in the seat with a whoosh of breath. “Thanks. One accident’s enough for tonight.”
“You still haven’t told me how you ended up in Texas,” Travis said.
“Well, here goes.” Rush started the engine again and moved ahead at a crawl. “I didn’t have the money to buy or even lease property to set up a new practice in Phoenix. But I came across an ad in a professional journal. A clinic in Fort Worth had a vacancy and was looking for a third vet. I contacted them, and they offered me the job. By then, I was living in a motel with my equipment in storage. I was happy to take whatever I could get. I loaded up and headed out.
“I was less than a day away when I got a text from them. The clinic had been sold, and the new owners didn’t need me.”
“Rotten luck,” Travis said.
“My sentiments exactly,” said Rush. “I figured that since I’d come this far, I might as well go and meet the new owners. Maybe I could talk them into hiring me. By then, it was getting dark, and a storm was blowing in, but I figured I could drive all night and make Fort Worth by morning. You know the rest.”
“Sorry about that,” Travis said. “The road to my ranch is just ahead on your left. You’ll need to slow down to make the turn.”
Rush slowed the Hummer expertly and eased into the turn. At least the man was a fast learner. “You’ve got a ranch?” he asked. “What kind of stock do you run? Cattle? Angus, maybe?”
Travis had to laugh. “Right now, our stock consists of two old horses and a dog that still smells like the skunk he tried to catch. The King Ranch it isn’t. But if you need a place to sleep for the rest of the night, my friend, I have a beat-up couch that comes with pretty good coffee in the morning.” When Rush hesitated, Travis added, “You’d be crazy to keep going tonight. You’re lost and so tired that you’re liable to fall asleep at the wheel and run off the road.”
He did sound like a cop, even to himself, Travis thought.
“You’d put me up, even after I totaled your truck?” Rush asked.
“Don’t remind me.”
“If that’s a yes, I’ll take you up on it—as long as I’m not putting you out.”
“Believe me, you’re not.” Travis said. “But to get back to your story, there’s one thing I’m still wondering about. You said you had a daughter.”
“I do. She’s three. Her name’s Claire. I try not to think about her too much.”
“What happened?”
Rush’s jaw tightened. “That,” he said, “is a story for another time.”
Chapter 10
The porch light was on when they drove in through the gate. “Welcome to Christmas Tree Ranch,” Travis said. “You can pull up next to the house.”
“Christmas Tree Ranch?” Rush switched off the engine, climbed out of the cab, and looked around. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” was all he said.
From inside the door, Bucket raised an alarm of furious barking. “It’s all right, boy,” Travis shushed him. “Everything’s fine.”
The barking ceased, but a light had come on in the back bedroom. Travis hadn’t meant to wake Conner, but what was done was done. As he opened the front door, Bucket came out to inspect the newcomer, sniffing Rush’s jeans and boots before showing his approval by wagging his tail. Rush scratched the dog’s ears before following Travis into the house. “I see what you mean about the skunk smell,” he said. “I could use a bathroom. Then point me to the couch, and I’ll be fine.”
Just then Conner came stumbling out of the hall. Dressed in the worn thermals he wore to bed on cold nights, he looked sleepy and none too pleased.
“What the hell, Travis?” he muttered. “I was hoping you’d gotten lucky and decided to spend the night. Did Maggie throw you out?”
“Not quite the way you’re thinking. But it doesn’t matter. I brought an overnight guest.”
Rush stepped forward, hand extended. “J. T. Rushford. You can call me Rush,” he said. “I’m afraid I totaled your friend’s truck.”
“No kidding?” Taking a moment to remember his manners, Conner accepted the handshake. “Conner Branch. Pleased to meet you, uh, I guess.”
“Well, at least I’ve got good insurance. I . . . Wait!” Rush stared at Conner in sudden recognition. “Conner Branch! I saw you ride in Phoenix, when I was filling in as a rodeo vet. You were amazing! Damned sorry about your accident.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Conner yawned, then brightened. “You’re a vet?”
“Yes, for what it’s worth. Mostly large animals, but I can treat the occasional cat or French poodle.”
“Well, as long as you’ll be around in the morning, maybe you can take a look at one of our horses. I noticed he was favoring one leg when he came into the barn tonight.”
“Sure,” Rush said. “It’s the least I can do.”
“The nearest vet is in Cottonwood Springs, and we don’t have any way to haul the horse there, let alone the money to pay.”
“No problem. I’ll check both horses for you while I’m here.”
“I’m sorry we can’t offer you a real bed,” Travis said. “We have a spare bedroom, but it’s full of stuff, and there’s no furniture.”
“The couch will be fine.” Rush glanced down the hall. “Bathroom?”
“Down there and to your right.”
Conner gazed after Rush as he disappeared. “That guy totaled your truck, and you invited him to spend the night?”
“It was an accident. He couldn’t stop on the slick road. He said his insurance would pay, and he drove me here. What else was I supposed to do, slug him?”
“I might’ve done that if it had been me. It’ll take some time to replace your truck—and it’s time we don’t have. But he seems like a decent sort. I’ll give him that much.” Conner glanced at Bucket, who was curled on his blanket by the stove, fast asleep. “Now there’s somebody who’s got the right idea. Morning will be here before you know it. I’m going back to bed.”
After Conner had wandered back down the hall, Travis got a pillow from his bedroom and a spare quilt, which he laid over the back of the couch for Rush. He remembered his earlier feeling that something was about to happen. For better or worse, he’d been right. But would tonight’s accident be a passing event, or had his whole life taken a subtl
e turn?
Never mind. He would think things through tomorrow, when his mind was clear. For now, he was dead on his feet. He would go to bed and hope to drift off with the delicious memory of holding Maggie in his arms.
* * *
Travis woke at dawn to the smell of coffee—surprising, since he was usually the first one up. He rolled out of bed, pulled on his work clothes, and, still sleepy, lumbered down the hall to the kitchen.
He found Rush sitting at the table, enjoying a fresh cup and checking the messages on his phone. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I found everything I needed to make coffee, so I went ahead. Help yourself. Hope it’s not too strong.”
“Thanks, I like it strong.” Travis filled a mug and sat down across from him.
“I called my insurance company,” he said. “They’re on the East Coast, so I figured they’d have somebody in the claims department. I still need to give them your information and get verification of the damage, but once they have it, you should be getting a check within the next few days.”
“Thanks, I’m going to need it.” Travis sipped the hot, black brew. “Sorry about the accommodations. Did you get any sleep?”
“Slept like a log until the dog nudged me awake about half an hour ago. He wanted out, so I opened the door for him. I hope that was all right.”
“Fine. Bucket knows his way around. So, will you be heading out this morning?”
“Not right away. I told Conner I’d check the horses. And I don’t want to leave till everything’s squared away with your truck and the insurance company.”
“I appreciate that. There’s a map of Texas in my truck. If you can get your hands on it, it’s yours.”
“Morning, y’all.” Conner, dressed for chores but still looking sleepy, meandered into the kitchen. “Coffee smells good.” He poured himself a cup. “Ready to check the horses?” he asked Rush.
“Soon as we’ve finished here,” Rush said. “If I need any gear, I’ve got it in the truck, but I’ll take a look first. After that . . .” He trailed off, sipping his coffee. “After that, I wouldn’t mind seeing why you call this place Christmas Tree Ranch when there’s not a Christmas tree in sight.”
* * *
After they’d finished the coffee, the three men went outside. Usually they’d have let Bucket herd the horses to the pasture while they cleaned the stalls. But this morning Conner led Patch into the yard for Rush’s inspection.
Rush studied the big Percheron’s gait for a moment. It was easy to see that Patch was limping slightly, favoring his right foreleg.
“I don’t see any sign of an injury,” Rush said. “But something’s clearly hurting him. I’m betting it’s just a rock. Will he stand still and lift his foot?”
“He should,” Conner said. “I haven’t tried it with him, but these old horses are well trained.”
Rush strode to the Hummer, opened the back, and rummaged in a leather case. He came back with what looked like a small metal rod with a rubber handle and a V-shaped prong on the end. “This is a hoof pick,” he explained. “You should get one and keep it handy for the next time this happens.”
Conner would know all this. But Travis appreciated Rush’s taking time to explain what he was doing. Horses were complicated animals, surprisingly fragile in their own way.
While Conner soothed the horse, Rush stood against Patch’s right shoulder, shifted his weight inward, and lifted the huge hoof to expose the underside. Seeing that Travis was watching, he pointed to a small, sharp rock, lodged against the center part of the hoof. “This area is called the frog,” he said. “It’s pretty tender. Even a little rock like this one can cause pain.” Using the hoof pick, he worked out the rock, tossed it away, and set Patch’s hoof down.
Rush took time to check and clean the other hooves. Then he ran his hands down the horse’s back and legs and checked his mouth. “Sound as a dollar,” he said. “You can turn him loose.”
Conner released his hold on Patch’s halter. No longer limping, the big horse allowed Bucket to herd him through the open pasture gate while Conner went to fetch the other horse.
While Rush was checking Chip and cleaning his hooves, Travis decided to voice an idea that had come to him. True, he hadn’t taken time to weigh the wisdom of it or share it with Conner. But it felt right, and his instincts told him that Conner would agree. Besides, this might be his only chance to speak.
“I’ve been thinking about something, Rush,” he said. “Hear me out and take this for what it’s worth. Branding Iron needs a vet, and you need a job. Why not stay here?”
Rush glanced up with a surprised expression. “Here? But there’s no clinic.”
“Sure there is,” said Travis, nodding toward the Hummer. “You could run a mobile clinic out of your vehicle and go where you’re needed. Nobody wants to haul a sick horse or cow to the vet, let alone a whole herd. Believe me, you’d have all the business you could handle. Later on, when you were ready, you could build your clinic right here, on our property. Meanwhile, until you’re ready for fancier digs, we could clear out the spare bedroom for you.”
“That’s a crazy idea.” Rush finished cleaning Chip’s hooves and straightened, meeting Travis’s gaze.
“Think about it,” Conner said, breaking into the conversation. “Travis has a great idea. You’d be building your own business and doing a service to the community.”
“But you’d need to be paid for the room and for the use of your property,” Rush protested. “Right now, I can’t even pay rent.”
“We could work that out, maybe even with some kind of partnership,” Travis said. “Just don’t say no yet. Give it some thought. Check out Fort Worth if you need to. We’ll be here.”
Rush shook his head in disbelief. “But you don’t even know me.”
“And you don’t know us,” Conner said. “We’re just a couple of crazy fools with a dream. When you’re done checking that horse, we’ll show it to you.”
* * *
Half an hour later, they were seated in the ATV with Conner driving and the cart loaded with tools hitched on behind. Last night’s hail and wind were gone. The weather was sunny but cold.
The road Travis and Conner had worked so hard to clear was still bumpy in spots. But with a good snowfall, it would do for the sleigh and horses. Travis looked up at the blue sky and murmured a silent prayer for December storms.
“Whatever you’re about to show me, you’re being damned mysterious about it,” Rush joked. “I hope it’s not something illegal?”
Conner laughed. “Wait and see.”
They came up over the last low rise, and there were the trees, like a carpet of festive green spreading over the hollow.
“Now you know why we call it Christmas Tree Ranch,” Conner said. “All we need to do now is get these babies ready to sell. Today we start trimming.”
“And that’s what these tools are for?” Rush glanced back at the loaded cart.
“Right,” Travis said. “But don’t worry, we’re not planning to put you to work. We’ll unhitch the cart and leave Conner to start trimming while I take you back. Then I’ll need to go into town to get my truck out of the way. There’s only one garage in Branding Iron, but the man who owns it is as good as gold. I hope your insurance company will take his word on the estimate.”
“I’ll go with you to make sure they do,” Rush said.
They left Conner with the tools to start on the trees, and Travis drove the ATV back to the house. They’d be taking Conner’s Jeep into town and leaving the loaded Hummer behind the house, where Rush had moved it. “Give me a minute to make a call,” he told Rush. “My lady lives in town. If she sees that wrecked truck with no sign of me, she’ll be worried.”
The words my lady tasted sweet in his mouth—still strange and new, but after last night, somehow fitting.
“So you’ve got a lady, have you?”
“I do. She’s the mayor.” Travis placed the call, and Maggie picked up.
&
nbsp; “Hi.”
He guessed from the crispness in her voice that she was already at work.
“What’s up?”
“I just didn’t want to worry you.” He told her briefly what had happened. “I wanted to get word to you before you saw the truck,” he said.
“Thanks. I didn’t see it, but if I had, I’d have been calling the police and the hospital in a panic.”
“It’s nice to know you care that much.”
“You know I do.” There was a pause. “Somebody just walked in. Gotta go.”
She ended the call, leaving Travis a trifle let down. But this was Maggie, he reminded himself. If he wanted to keep her, he would have to get used to sharing her with the whole town.
After driving into Branding Iron, Travis and Rush contacted Silas Parker, who owned the garage. Silas, a master mechanic who’d been in business twenty-five years, was able to give the insurance company a reliable estimate of the truck’s value and a description of the damage. Before the wreck was towed away, Travis cleaned out the glove box and rescued the road map of Texas, which he gave to Rush.
“Maybe now you won’t get lost again,” he joked as they climbed back into the Jeep.
“Who knows? Maybe I was supposed to get lost.” Rush tucked the map into his expensive-looking lambskin jacket. “It’s almost noon. Can I treat you to lunch before we head back?”
“It’s tempting, but I need to get back and spell Conner on trimming those trees.” Travis started up the Jeep and headed out of town. “Think about the offer we made you. We’re starting from scratch this year, but given time and work, this ranch could be a nice place, with plenty of room for your clinic.”
“I will think about it,” Rush said. “But money-wise, I’m scraping bottom. What I need right now is a steady paycheck. I’ve got to at least try my luck in Fort Worth. That, or look somewhere else.”
“Well, keep us in mind. The door’s open, for now at least.”
Travis let Rush out by the Hummer, shook his hand, and stood with Bucket, watching him drive away. Then, shifting his thoughts, he went into the house, made a few sandwiches to share with Conner for lunch, packed them up with some cold sodas, and set out on the ATV with the dog riding in back.
