by Kadie Scott
Of course, that’d been before he’d stared at her as if she were a disease he’d rather not catch. Her attraction to Cash was patently one-sided. Holly was used to a certain amount of disdain or judgment around here. She dressed to please herself and didn’t always fit the Texas mold. She liked her funky clothes and colorful hair. And, of course, there was her family history. In some odd corner of her thoughts, she minded that he’d looked at her that way…and it irritated the bejesus out of her that she cared.
“Ma’am?”
Holly glanced up. “Sorry?” she mumbled to the checkout clerk.
“I said this is on special. Two-for-one?” he repeated in a thick Southern drawl.
“Oh. No thanks.”
The clerk nodded and kept scanning. Holly quickly paid then got out of there as fast as she could.
As soon as the double sliding doors of the store opened, she stepped into a wall of humidity. It was only mid-April in the Texas Hill Country, but this spring had been unusually hot, and the moisture in the air sent the heat index even higher. Every scrap of her light cotton clothing clung to her instantly damp skin. Even the air in her lungs felt wet and heavy, as if she were breathing in soup. Holly was used to it—she’d lived in Texas most of her life.
At least I’ll look youthful when I’m sixty. Humidity was supposed to be good for skin, right?
She piled her groceries in the cab of her beat-up Chevy truck. She’d had it as long as she could drive, and her grandmother had bought it used. Grams had raised her and her two younger siblings after their father skipped town and their mother died of cancer. Then, a few weeks before Holly graduated high school, Grams had passed away in her sleep. A heart attack, the doctor had said.
Holly didn’t think she’d ever get rid of Big Bertha, which was her nickname for the truck. Besides which, it ran perfectly fine and got her from point A to point B with no trouble. She cranked the engine and gave a happy hum as the air conditioner hit her full blast.
Getting home didn’t take too long. She lived on the other side of La Colina, and the town wasn’t exactly a metropolis, only being slightly over two miles wide and supporting a population of about two thousand, though that didn’t count all the ranches in the area outside of town. Dust flew up from the gravel drive as she pulled around the back of the veterinary clinic building and barn to the small house where she lived.
Holly couldn’t stop her grin at the sight of her home. She couldn’t be happier with how lucky she’d been to find this situation. She’d graduated from Cornell with a Doctorate in Veterinary Science and slightly under a hundred and fifty grand in school loans. She didn’t even consider starting a private practice, despite the market being desperate for more vets in her field willing to operate in the Texas countryside.
However, private practice would’ve meant even more large loans for all the equipment and supplies. Instead, she’d been hired on to work with Dr. Charlie Tribble and his son, Luke. She was their equine specialist, although she also helped with the steady stream of bovine work that came along.
Grabbing a couple of shopping bags, she made her way up to the front porch, making a mental note to fix the third step of the wooden structure as it gave a loud, creaking protest under her weight. That was when her cell phone beeped. Once she got inside and put down the bags, she checked it.
Holly’s heart dropped into her stomach.
The message was exactly what she feared. Another request to meet.
Holly shook her head as the sinking sensation gave way to the slow burn of anger. Why couldn’t Marcus leave her the hell alone? He had to know by now that she had absolutely no intention of disclosing what she knew. Not to anyone. Marcus was a nice guy, but she wasn’t a home wrecker.
With a huff, she put down the phone. Several trips to the car and a good fifteen minutes later, she had the groceries put away. Couldn’t have her ice cream melting in the heat. She took those few minutes to think. Coming to a decision, she picked up her phone and quickly typed in a response.
Message sent, she scooted across to the clinic, waved at Jan, who manned the front desk, strode through the halls and popped her head into the lab, only to find it empty.
“Hey, Luke,” she called.
“In here,” a disembodied voice answered from the exam room in the back.
She followed the sound and discovered Luke examining a dead calf on the table. He looked up and lifted his scalpel in a wave of welcome.
“What happened here?”
Luke continued with the dissection that he looked to have just started. “Not sure yet. Ben Granger found this little guy in one of his back fields. No apparent signs of trauma and no heifer close by.”
“Odd.”
He nodded. “Need something?” He didn’t glance up from his work.
“Quick question. Non-work related.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you remember Marcus Jones? He was about four years ahead of me in school.”
Luke stopped what he was doing, leaned his forearms on the stainless steel table and flicked her a curious glance. “Yes.”
“He’s still a…good guy? Right?”
“Why?”
She gave a casual shrug. “Just wondering.”
He gave her a steady look. “Uh-huh. I’ve known Marcus since grade school.” His tone of voice didn’t give much away.
“And?”
“I haven’t seen much of him since graduation, but I always liked him. He kind of…disappeared the last couple of years. Spends all his time rehabilitating horses on his family’s ranch.”
Well, damn. Anyone who loved horses was good in her opinion. Too bad. She didn’t want to like him.
“Why? Is he bothering you?” Raised eyebrows indicated Luke would be surprised if that were the case.
She shook her head. No way was she dragging Luke into her problems. Besides, bothering was a relative term. Playing on her guilt and heartstrings, more like. “No.”
He cocked his head and gave her an assessing look. “Okay.” He turned back to his work. “If he is bothering you—”
“He’s not.”
“Then you might think about telling Cash Hill.”
No way. That definitely wasn’t going to happen. That disgusted look Cash had given her in the grocery store was reason enough. Plus, even if he didn’t obviously have something against her, he was still the last person she’d bring into this particular issue.
But she couldn’t tell Luke that. “I know Cash. Thanks.”
He waved away her thanks.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Holly turned to leave but hesitated. “Need any help?”
“Nah. This is pretty straightforward.”
“Okay.” Truth be told, Holly got lonely sometimes. Her path in life had dictated her solitary state to a certain extent. And, despite having grown up around here, she couldn’t claim many friends. Just Georgia, really, and she was gone.
“Hey.” Luke’s voice stopped her at the door.
Holly glanced over her shoulder, her brows lifted.
“I saw you working Mischief Maker this morning.”
Holly hid her initial reaction of dismay. “I’m surprised you were here that early.”
“Had to get the trailer for an early morning delivery that was turning sour.”
“I’m guessing it worked out.”
He grinned. “Calf and mama are both fine. But you’re not skirting my question that easily. Those were some impressive drills I saw out there. Barrel riding?”
Holly nodded. “Thanks,” she mumbled, uncomfortable with the praise. “I trained horses through college. Barrel racers, stock horses. It helped pay some of the bills.” In fact, by the end of college she’d been able to stop waitressing.
“Do you compete?”
“No.”
Luke leveled a curious look at her over the rim of his protective eye gear. “Why not?”
“Honestly…money and time.” She couldn’t afford the entry fees. Even now
she was working in a decently paid position, every extra dime went toward paying off her debts. Plus, competing meant traveling to rodeos. Time she didn’t have.
“School loans?” Luke asked.
“And then some.” Holly rolled her eyes expressively.
“Yeah. I’m still paying mine off too.” Luke grinned again.
The smile transformed his face from good-looking to downright handsome. Not for the first time, Holly wondered why he wasn’t married. He was tall and, thanks to a physical job maneuvering large animals constantly, well-muscled. Twinkling brown eyes with laugh lines at the corners indicated he was genuinely nice to boot. A terrific catch for any woman.
But what had Holly’s mind spinning with realization was the difference between her lack of reaction to Luke and her over-the-top attraction to Cash today. She gritted her teeth in frustration. That was a complication she didn’t need. Especially not right now, with trying to settle into her new home and job and with Marcus trying to suck her into old drama.
The easy answer was she should avoid the sexy sheriff and his daughter, but she had a promise to keep. She’d told her friend she’d keep an eye on Sophia. That promise was one of the reasons she’d moved home, instead of anywhere else a large animal vet was needed.
Sigh.
“Earth to Holly.” Luke’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
She snapped her attention back to the exam room. “Sorry. I remembered something I forgot to get at the grocery store.”
“Well…it’s not too far of a drive. You can make it there and back, I’m thinkin’.” Luke winked.
Holly waved a hand. “Nah…it can wait. For now, I’m going to go feed Mischief and Solario. After that, dinner, a good book and hopefully a full night’s sleep.”
She turned to go again but was stopped short as Luke said, “Huh. I hadn’t thought of Solario.”
“What about him?”
“If that little quarter horse of yours can do what I saw today, what exactly can that big brute of a thoroughbred stallion do?”
She put her hands on her hips. “He’s not a brute. He’s a big baby.”
Luke raised a skeptical eyebrow and snorted. “He won’t let anyone else near him but you.”
“That might have something to do with the fact that when he was about one, I rescued him from an abusive situation, where he was half-starved and had sores all over his body.” Holly shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal, but she didn’t think she’d ever forget the state in which she’d found the poor animal. How anyone could do something like that to such a magnificent creature was beyond her. So, despite being a broke college student with one horse she already couldn’t afford, she’d rescued the black yearling and kept him.
“He wants to run. I think he’s fast, but I’ve never worked with a racer before. So we’ll see,” she added.
Holly gave Luke a salute then escaped before he could ask any more personal questions. She checked on the hawk, whose wing was still healing. Then she fed the horses, including a couple of cubes of sugar for Solario, who was a bit of an addict.
All the while, a pair of wide shoulders, a strong jaw and wicked, dark-blue eyes rimmed in black wouldn’t leave her thoughts…even overriding the issue with Marcus. Pesky hormones had a lot to answer for. That was all it had to be, right?
Chapter Three
Holly hopped in line at Pete’s and ordered her dinner. She took her tray to a table close to the door, where she could watch for Marcus. Hoping to get him to leave her alone about Georgia, she’d agreed to meet and had chosen a public place for their talk.
The month before, a seemingly innocuous decision had led her down this path. She’d been employed at the vet clinic only a few weeks, and it’d been a relatively slow day. Charlie and Luke had both been out on different ranches when the phone rang. Jan, who’d taken the call, had come back to the exam room to get Holly.
“That was Marcus Jones from the Rocking J ranch. He’s got a horse pulled up lame that he’d like you to take a look at.”
“All right,” Holly replied eagerly.
Although she’d been hired to be the equine vet, this had been her first opportunity to apply that skill. So far all she’d had the chance to work on were a few sick dogs and a baby calf.
“You good to go out there alone, sugar?”
“I’ll be fine.” After getting the directions, she grabbed the keys to one of the clinic trucks and headed out on her own.
At the ranch, as she pulled around to park close to the barn, Marcus stepped outside. He’d changed since high school, when she’d seen him last—leaned out and added inches. A few years ahead of her in school, they hadn’t been good friends or anything. He was good-looking, in a rough kind of way, with blue eyes in a rugged face.
Holly hopped out of the truck and headed for him. “Marcus? Holly Jensen. Do you remember me?”
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I do. I didn’t know you’d come back.” He glanced toward the truck. “Or that you’re a vet now. Georgia always talked about how you…” He paused and seemed to need a breath. “How have you been?” he finally asked.
“I just moved back. Is the horse in here?” She headed toward the barn.
“Over here.” He led her to a small corral.
A large bay colt stood there, head hanging slightly and obviously favoring his right foreleg.
“Do you know what happened?”
He shook his head. “No. He just started limping around. We tried a couple different wraps, my mother’s homemade poultices, but it hasn’t helped.”
“All right. Let’s take a look.”
As she worked, two other men who looked like Marcus came over and introduced themselves as Matt and Mason Jones. Both older, so she only vaguely remembered them. She gave them a cursory nod and focused on her work. Once she’d assessed the issue, she determined the best treatment.
“As long as you keep it wrapped and use the treatments I showed you, the swelling should decrease and the leg should be okay.” She glanced at the three men. “However, your horse is slightly underweight.” She got to work cleaning up her supplies. “There are several special feeds I can recommend—”
“No need.”
Holly couldn’t stand to see an animal in need, not when she could help. “I don’t want to have to bring the authorities into this—”
Marcus held up his hand to stop her. “Big Ben here is a rescue. Luke already gave me feed instructions. If you’d have seen him a few months ago, you’d be shocked at how much better he looks.”
“Oh.” Her face heated up with what had to be a flaming blush. “Sorry,” she murmured.
Marcus’s expression softened, and he gave her arm a squeeze. “No offense taken.”
Thankful he didn’t make a big deal of her high-horse moment, she smiled. “Let me write up some aftercare instructions—”
“Why don’t you come in out of the heat while you do that,” one of his brothers, Matt, said.
She glanced uncertainly between them. Why not? “Thanks.”
She followed the three men inside, where she was introduced to their mother, Mrs. Jones, a wiry woman more bone than muscle. Typical Texas hospitality had her seated with a cool glass of sweet tea while she wrapped up her paperwork and talked to them about the horse.
“Thanks for the tea,” she said to Mrs. Jones when she was done. Holly didn’t fail to notice the odd exchange of glances going on around her as she stood to leave.
Alarm bells went off inside Holly’s head. Something was off here.
“You were Georgia’s best friend.” Marcus didn’t ask, he stated.
No secret there. Georgia had been one of her few friends, and the only person to stay by her side when Grams died and Holly made some hard decisions that many people didn’t support. “Yes.”
“I was sorry to hear about her accident.” Mrs. Jones put a hand over Holly’s, who sent her a smile of appreciation.
Holly didn’t miss how Marcus glance
d away, swallowing hard. “I miss her every day,” she responded with sincerity.
Marcus swung sharply back to her. “I used to date Georgia.”
Holly blinked and kept her expression carefully neutral. “She told me.”
“Did she?” Marcus shook his head. “Did you know she broke things off just before she got married?”
“Oh?” Holly hoped she got the tone of bland curiosity right. “I vaguely remember that.”
Marcus’s shoulders drooped, and an expression of…hurt if she had to guess…flashed across his face. “I thought you were close.”
Holly hated that her comments saddened him, and briefly considered taking them back, but didn’t. Something about his eagerness seemed off. Instead, she schooled her expression to a polite smile. “I guess you never know everything about a person. And I was away at school a long time.”
Marcus grunted. “I was thinking that she might’ve told you about us since she got pregnant right after we broke up.”
Holly gave a shrug, but her heart picked up its pace. Not good. She started slowly inching toward the door.
“I’ve always wondered if that baby girl is mine.” Holy hell, he’d come right out and said it.
Holly stopped her scooting. “Who? Sophia?”
A sharp nod answered that question.
Had Georgia not taken her advice and had Sophia tested? Holly mentally rattled off a list of swear words. Georgia, what did you put me in the middle of? “Anyone with eyes in their head can see that child is Cash’s. She’s got his eyes.”
That had been her own argument to a worried Georgia. Couldn’t argue with genetics.
“My mother was a cousin to John Hill. Those eyes run in our blood too.”
Dang it all to hell. Georgia hadn’t shared that little fact, and Holly hadn’t realized the connection.
“Oh? Um. I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Sophia Hill is definitely Cash’s daughter.” Before Marcus could say another word, she’d turned to Mrs. Jones. “Thanks again for your hospitality.”
She turned and let herself out the door.
