Cowboy Six Pack

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Cowboy Six Pack Page 31

by Kari Lynn Dell


  The glint of challenge in the man’s eyes had her embellishing more at the end. She held onto the note and finished with a flourish. The music stopped, and she peered into his eyes.

  A roar of voices and thundering applause, reminded her she stood on a stage staring into a stranger’s eyes.

  She ran off the stage, dropping the microphone on the table. On her way past her table, she snagged her jacket, before running out the back door of the Sidewinder. She didn’t catch her breath or stop her momentum until she sat behind the wheel of her 1960 Ford pickup. Her heart raced, not from her hurried departure, but from the memory of the man’s eyes.

  He’s gone to college. He won’t want a woman who can’t read. Her good sense smacked her upside the head, and she shoved the key into the ignition. She knew how he’d treat her if he knew she hadn’t finished school. Just like all the foster parents and kids she’d lived with over the years. Like she was dim-witted.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Kitty woke the next morning to her dog, Winnie, whining to get out. She crossed the small apartment to let the dog, of varying degrees of brown with dark brown spots, out the door. Winnie stopped at the top of the stairs and glanced back at her with one blue and one brown eye.

  “Yes, I’ll be right down,” Kitty said and smiled as the dog gracefully ran down the stairs and out of the barn. She’d saved up money to buy Winnie as a puppy. She was a natural at herding and would soon have a litter of puppies. The money from several litters would go in her stash.

  She started the hot pot and headed to the small closet where she stored her clothing. The sight of the pink tank on the top of her laundry basket popped the night before into her thoughts and the way the man’s voice had blended so well with hers. She’d even had a dream about him. The whole evening had played over in her mind on the drive home, and now, again, as she dressed. If not for the dirty shirt, she’d think she’d dreamed singing with the man.

  She always went to the Sidewinder on Thursday nights. She had a burger and a beer, then sang a couple of songs and came home. It was the only night she went out.

  Last night had felt different the minute she’d walked into the bar. Paul Doore had been there. He was the reason she’d ran away from the last foster home. He’d been one of the four foster kids in the house and had tried several times to get her alone and touch her under her clothing. The last time he’d been more vicious. When she’d tried to tell the foster mom, the woman had told Kitty to get used to it. That was her clue she’d not be safe in that house and could take care of herself better than anyone being paid to do the job.

  She’d ignored Paul’s taunts last night. Then they’d changed the numbers on the songs and she’d become flustered. Her usual happiness at doing something that people didn’t find fault with had been shaken. She’d felt vulnerable with his taunts and fearing someone would see she couldn’t read.

  She pulled on her work boots and stood, peering into the small mirror on the wall. There was something different about her this morning. She felt… she didn’t know what it was, but that tall, gorgeous man who’d walked over and saved her from embarrassment by looking up the song, had given her hope that someday she might find someone who wouldn’t ridicule and would listen to her torment.

  She hated the fact words jumbled up in her head and she couldn’t decipher them. The only person in her life that she could have confided in about it had died, leaving her to be shuffled from foster home to foster home, no one caring enough about her to look into why she was shoved to the next grade even though she couldn’t read and pass the tests.

  Nickering from the stables below her small two-room apartment made her smile. Right on cue. The horses were calling for their morning feeding.

  She pulled her ball cap on, made a travel mug of hot chocolate, grabbed a granola bar, and headed down the stairs. The clomping of her boots quieted the nickers but started the rattling of the hay cages. Winnie raced down the midway between the stalls. She stood on her hind legs sniffing the cup and granola bar. “You’ll get yours as soon as I finish feeding the horses.”

  “I’m coming!” she called out to the horses and laughed. Working for Marcella was the best job she could have ever found. She loved horses. Had ever since her first foster home. That family had treated her like family and had been ready to adopt her, when mom, her foster mother, had been diagnosed with cancer. They’d sat Kitty down and explained it was going to be all Dad could do to take care of their two biological children. They wished they could keep her but it just wouldn’t work. Her heart squeezed with loss as she put a bale of hay in the wheelbarrow. Mom had died before they’d found a new foster home. She’d been whisked to a temporary home for a month, then another home, and another home, and another home, until she’d run away. She’d missed the family, the horses, and had suffered all that loss alone.

  Charger hung his head over the gate.

  “Hey, boy. You’re looking bright today.” The old gelding had his good days and his bad days. Today appeared to be a good one. Marcella kept him around for her grandchildren to ride when they visited.

  She picked up two flakes of the sweet-smelling Timothy grass hay and let herself into the stall. Charger nudged her with his nose, moving her faster to the corner where the hay cage hung on the wall.

  “Okay, I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.” She dumped the hay in the cage and patted his neck. “You’re a sweet old boy.”

  She spent the next hour feeding and watering the horses; ones that Marcella owned, ones that were there to be trained, as well as a few that were stabled there while their owners took lessons from Marcella.

  “Good morning, Kitty.” Marcella was a tall woman, with steel gray hair she wore in a heavy braid down her back. Her legs were clad in jeans, her thin torso in a long-sleeved cotton shirt. A wide-brimmed straw hat sat atop her head. She laid a hand on Winnie’s head when the dog walked up to her.

  “Morning. Charger is feeling chipper today.”

  “Good, when you get the feeding and exercising of the horses finished, take him for a short ride out through the cattle. He’ll enjoy getting out.” Marcella glanced down at Winnie. “I think she will too. Let her work the cows as long as they don’t get riled up.”

  Kitty nodded. Winnie enjoyed using her herding skills.

  The older woman stood in front of the white board she used to schedule the horses’ trainings. “And I’d like you to help with Apache this afternoon.”

  Kitty couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. She loved working with Marcella and the horses. One of the perks of working here was picking up how to train the animals and hopefully have her own training facility one day. “I’ll have him saddled and ready at two.”

  Marcella smiled and her eyes glinted. “I knew you’d like to help.” She strode toward the tack room.

  The chores and her ride on Charger flew by as she anticipated her time on Apache that afternoon.

  *~*

  Zach didn’t know why he couldn’t shake the woman he’d sang with from his mind. He’d sipped on his beer and ate a burger as he’d tried to learn all he could about the woman. She appeared to be a loner. The word slow didn’t seem to fit the woman he’d encountered and shared a song with. Singing with her had been incredible. He’d never sung with another female whose voice synced with his so well. And gazing into her eyes as she sang…he’d seen clear to her soul. What he didn’t understand was why she’d fled after the song. She’d raced off the stage and out of the building before he’d gotten his wits back.

  Julie and Barry had only third hand information about the woman. He’d thought about making a call on the Dunn Ranch, visit with the owner and give her a card, in case she needed any veterinarian services. And perhaps catch a glimpse and learn more about Kitty Baxter.

  His phone buzzed.

  “MacDonald Veterinary Service,” he answered, picking up a pen and pulling a notepad across the table toward him.

  “You stay away from Kitty, she’s nothing b
ut trouble.” The line went dead.

  Zach stared at the phone and jotted down the number. It had been a male voice that sent the warning. He shook his head. It had to be some prank call. But why warn him away from Kitty? All they did was share a song last night.

  His mind skipped back to the night before. It didn’t matter about the warning, he planned on getting to know Kitty a whole lot more. She’d aroused his interest and heated his blood unlike anyone, even his ex-fiancée. The reason he’d moved to Opal Springs.

  To wipe away the anger and bad memories, he started building more shelves for supplies in what had been the tack room of the barn he now used as his base for his mobile veterinary service. The small two-bedroom house came with the large barn that had been easy to remodel into a large animal hospital. He didn’t plan on having to house a patient for very long here or to do any major surgeries. He had plans of being more of an emergency animal doctor. The county didn’t have a large veterinarian facility, but there were two very good animal hospitals in the neighboring county. He could recommend them to the owners of his patients that required more than basic care.

  Several hours after his ominous call, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the number but it wasn’t the same as the harassing call.

  “MacDonald Veterinary Services,” he answered.

  “Dr. MacDonald, I’m Marcella Dunn. I own Dunn Ranch, a training stable. We have a horse that came down with an ailment that neither myself nor my assistant have seen anything like before. Could you come take a look at the horse this afternoon?”

  “I can. What is the address?” He scribbled the address on his notepad. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  The line went silent, and he pocketed his phone. He brushed the sawdust from his clothing and his hair, washed his hands, and picked up his computer bag. Out in his work truck, he wrote on a log where he was going and noted the mileage.

  His second major call since hanging his shingle on the barn. And the woman who had been on his mind all day would be there.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kitty used a rag to clean the blood trickling out of Apache’s nose. She’d never had to attend a horse with a nose bleed.

  “I called the new vet. As much as I’m grateful to Doc Greeley, he doesn’t like to deal with large animals anymore. And it will give us a chance to see if this new guy is any good.” Marcella stroked the young gelding’s neck. He was a handsome, gray dun.

  “What do you think it could be?” she asked the older woman.

  “I don’t know. We’ve only had him here a few days.”

  “Are you going to call his owner?” If the gelding was her horse, she’d want to know he had a problem.

  “I will after the vet has checked him out. No sense in getting Trudy upset until we have some answers.” Marcella patted the horse’s neck. “I’ll go wait out front. Keep him quiet and calm.”

  She nodded and wiped at the animal’s nostril again. Winnie jogged up to them, her nose sniffing.

  “Where have you been?” she asked the dog. “Phew! From the smell and green on your shoulder, you’ve been rolling in something nasty.” She nodded to the apartment. “Looks like it will be a shower for both of us tonight.”

  Winnie put a paw over her eyes.

  Kitty laughed. “You should be ashamed. If you want to stay in the apartment with me, you have to not smell like a feral dog.”

  She heard footsteps approaching and turned her attention from the dog to the people. The sun was behind Marcella and the new vet. He was tall, broad shouldered…they walked closer and her throat nearly closed. It was him! The man she’d sang with the night before.

  “Kitty, this is Dr. MacDonald,” Marcella introduced them.

  The vet’s grin made her heart race. He was even better looking in daylight.

  “We’ve met,” Dr. MacDonald said, stepping up to the other side of Apache’s head.

  “You have?” Marcella turned her attention to Kitty. “How come you didn’t say anything when I went to call him?”

  “I didn’t know he was the new vet. We didn’t exchange names or occupations.” That was why he’d been in college. Knowing he’d gone to school for so many years made her even more nervous around him.

  “Let me take a look at this guy.” He checked the horse’s nostrils, mouth, and felt his neck as he asked questions about the animal’s health and living conditions.

  His take charge approach and casual conversation about the horse, calmed Kitty. She and Marcella answered his questions.

  “I’d call the owner and ask questions. I’d say this is EIPH, Exercise Induced Pulmonary Hemorrhage. Which means the possibility of something here that this horse is allergic to and working him brought on the nose bleed and slight wheezing.” Dr. MacDonald ran a hand down the horse’s neck. “I can take blood if you want me to rule out anything else?”

  Marcella nodded. “I want to make sure it isn’t something worse. I’ll call Trudy now and see if she’s had this happen before and ask about his normal stable area.” The woman walked away, pulling her cell phone out of the holster on her belt.

  Dr. MacDonald held his hand out to Kitty. “Hi, I’m Zach.”

  She stared at his hand then up into his face. His green eyes sparkled and his full lips curved into a grin.

  “Kitty,” she said, grasping his hand and shaking.

  “You have a beautiful voice, Kitty.” His compliment sounded sincere.

  However, she’d received few compliments and wasn’t sure how to respond. She ducked her head and ran a hand down Apache’s forehead. “Thanks,” she half whispered.

  Winnie pushed up against her, responding to her unease.

  “That’s a gorgeous Catahoula,” he said, pulling a syringe and vials out of his shirt pocket and taking blood from the gelding.

  “Winnie’s my roommate.” Kitty patted the dog’s head.

  “She’s a looker.” Zach finished taking the blood and crouched next to one of the best-looking dogs he’d ever seen of that breed.

  “Thank you. One of Marcella’s clients brought his dog here when he visited and I asked about the breed and saved up to purchase Winnie.” Kitty’s face glowed with pride as she talked about her dog.

  “She intact?” He put the blood vials in his kit and ruffled the female’s ears.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “In tact? What does that mean?”

  “Not spayed. Still able to have puppies.” He could tell not knowing what he talked about unsettled her.

  “Oh. Yes! I plan to make money by selling puppies. The man I purchased her from called me when he bought a new male.” Kitty’s eyes lit up. “She’s going to have puppies in a month.”

  “What are you going to ask for the pups? I can spread the word about them for you.” He felt her shifting away before her feet actually moved backwards.

  “I plan to ask the same as I paid for Winnie. Four hundred.” She nodded to the horse. “Can I put him up?”

  “Yes, just keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t struggle when he breathes. If he does, call me.” He slipped his hand in his pocket to capture a business card, but she was halfway across the barn.

  Marcella returned. “Trudy, the owner, says she hasn’t had that happen to him before, but she uses straw for bedding. We have cedar chips. Makes the place smell better with so many horses.”

  “I’d suggest you clean out another stall, don’t leave a single wood chip and then add straw and put him in it. That might help his problem.” Zach picked up his kit.

  “How did you meet Kitty?” The older woman’s eyes glistened with interest.

  “We sang together last night at the Sidewinder.” He held out the business card he’d planned to give to Kitty. “Where does she live?”

  The woman nodded to what looked like an office above the end of the indoor arena. “In the apartment, up there.”

  He studied the small cubicle. “How long has she lived there?”

 
Marcella frowned. “I’d say that’s information Kitty should tell you and not me.” She turned and said over her shoulder, “I’ll let you know if the new bedding helps.”

  Zach knew when he was being brushed off. He stared at the woman as she walked up to Kitty and started an animated conversation.

  It was wrong to stand there watching the two when his job was finished, but he wanted to learn more about the beautiful, aloof woman. He was new in town. There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t ask her out to dinner.

  He strode down the alleyway to the last stall where Kitty was busy scooping out what appeared to be fresh bedding.

  She stopped when the wheelbarrow was full.

  “Would you—”

  She jumped and placed a hand on the middle of her chest.

  “What in the world are you doing sneaking up on me?” She glared at him. “You did your job, you should be moving on.”

  He grinned. The anger heightened her coloring, fading her freckles. “Sorry. I was wondering, since I’m new here, if you’d have dinner with me tonight and fill me in on the people and town?”

  Her color faded and the freckles across her cheeks stood out. “I don’t think… I mean, you shouldn’t be…” She floundered with what to say.

  “You almost sound like you don’t want to be seen with me?” He narrowed his eyes and studied her. If he hadn’t seen her slinging wood chips into a wheelbarrow and felt her rough hands, he’d think she was as self-centered as his ex- fiancée.

  “No, anyone would—” Her cheeks darkened, again.

  So, she did find him attractive. A thought struck him. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Her pony tail whipped back and forth as she shook her head. “And I don’t care to have one.”

  Even as she said it he could see the yearning in her eyes. Why would she lie about something like that?

  “How about I come back by here about six to check on my patient. If you happen to be hungry about then, we could go grab a burger at the Sidewinder—”

 

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