by Vivi Holt
A whistle made her spin around to see Eamon and Parker on horseback, rounding up horses. The animals snorted, necks arched, and trotted forward in a group. A few tried to make a break for it, and a dark brown one kicked up its heels and shook its head at Parker before returning to join the rest of the herd. Eamon rode his golden mount around the herd, waving his hat behind them and whistling.
Emily walked to the paling fence by the barn, climbed up onto the bottom rail, leaned her arms on the top one and watched them with a wide smile. Horses were such graceful creatures, the way they moved, the muscles rippling beneath dazzling coats in the brilliant sunshine … she couldn’t take her eyes off them.
She’d never had much to do with horses before – her entire previous experience had been at Susan Wallerford’s birthday party when she was eight. Susan had insisted they go riding, but Emily’s horse had turned around halfway and galloped back to the stables, Emily clinging to the saddle for dear life. That scraggly, dull-coated beast had looked nothing like these magnificent creatures, their heads held high above strong necks.
Before long, all the horses were shut into the yards beside the barn, milling around the hay bales, buckets of molasses and salt licks. The air was full of the musky odor of horseflesh and manure, and the whinnies, snorts and the clomping of hooves in the dry dirt sang in Emily’s ears. As one chestnut horse ran by where she was perched, Emily reached out and let her fingers skim the animal’s satiny back. Its coat was hot beneath her hand, and she laughed as it shied away from her touch.
The pop and crack of wide tires on the gravel drive made Emily turn her head, and she raised a hand over her eyes to shut out the sun’s glare. A black pickup crawled toward the house, bumping and jerking over the uneven ground. It stopped behind her, and a man stepped out, wearing a scruffy goatee, jeans and a button-down red-and-white plaid shirt. He smiled and waved.
She waved back and stepped down from the fence. “Hi.”
“Hello there, I’m Will.” He strode toward her, his hand outstretched, and she took it, shaking it firmly. “Ah, there’s Eamon and Parker.” He slipped between the fence rails and headed for Eamon, who tipped his hat. She heard them exchange pleasantries as Eamon dismounted to shake Will’s hand.
Eamon took his horse by the reins and left the yard, making his way to where Emily stood. “Who’s Will?” she asked.
“He’s our vet. He’s here to check out the foals for registration and do some immunizations.” Eamon wrapped the reins around the fence and rested one foot on the lowest paling.
Harley trotted out of the barn and sat beside Emily, his head tipped to one side, one ear standing tall and the other cocked forward. “That dog is stalking you,” said Eamon with a chuckle.
“Awww, he’s so sweet.” Emily scratched Harley’s head and ruffled his furry ears. “He misses Hazel.”
“Yep.” Eamon removed his hat and combed his fingers through his sandy blond hair. “Do you have any pets? I mean I know you said no way to the kitten, but I thought maybe you had a goldfish or something.”
“No, definitely not.” She laughed.
“Why not?”
“Well, like I said before — I live in an apartment, and I’m never home.”
“But you like animals, right?” His tone was casual, but she could sense a deeper meaning behind his questions.
“Yes, I love them, actually. But I think it would be cruel for me to own any with the schedule I keep.” She bent to pat Harley’s side, and his tail wagged furiously. “This guy would be so lonely if he lived with me.” Her heart ached at the thought. Had she chosen such a lonely path that even owning a pet was too much of a commitment?
Eamon smiled at her. “Sounds like you’re a busy lady.”
“Probably too busy.” She laughed, and it sounded hollow, jaded. “I don’t know … I’ve given so much, sacrificed everything for my career. And now I don’t even know where it’s headed. I was angry before, but now I just feel disappointed and tired.”
She stood and stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. “See, I’m yawning.”
“Do you like it? Being a surgeon?”
“I love it – it’s the best thing in the world – but I’d really love if I could have a life as well. Maybe I’m asking too much.” She chuckled and leaned back against the fence.
“I don’t think that’s too much. Might be just about right.” Eamon’s voice warmed her soul and she imagined for a single moment how it might feel to hear that voice every day of her life.
Emily smiled at her own imagination, wondering how she’d changed so much in such a short amount of time that she could daydream about spending her life on a ranch with a cowboy. But it felt like a dream she’d long forgotten. She felt a peace deep inside for the first time in so long it seemed strange. Her heart was ticking along at a normal rate, her veins weren’t quivering with adrenaline, her mind was clear. Would it be so bad to live this way?
* * *
Eamon and Parker waved goodbye to Will, his black truck kicking up dust as it rumbled toward the main road. Parker opened the latch on the corral gate and Eamon ushered the herd back out into the field. They left in a rush, glad to be free again.
The men wandered to where Emily now sat, beneath the shade of the large oak that spread a canopy of branches over one side of the barn and part of the yard. She had a book in one hand, the other behind her head against the rough bark of the thick trunk. Harley lay at her feet, his head resting on his paws. His tail thumped the ground as Eamon grew near. “We thought we might go to town for lunch to celebrate,” said Eamon, tipping his hat back. “Care to join us?”
Emily laid her book on the ground. He looked so handsome, his tanned face split by a wide white smile, his blue eyes sparkling beneath his black hat. Sweat made his shirt cling to his muscular chest. She grinned. “Sounds good. What are we celebrating?”
“We made it through foaling and registration. Will says we’ve got a great crop of foals for our first lot. Dalton was so worried we wouldn’t be able to handle things while he was gone, so we’re celebrating success and smooth sailing.”
She raised an eyebrow. They still had two weeks to go before Dalton and Hazel returned – celebrating might be a bit premature.
“Okay.” She stood and dusted the dirt and twigs from her shorts. “I’ll just go freshen up.”
After showering, changing clothes and fixing her hair, Emily found Eamon and Parker waiting for her by the pickup. They’d both changed into fresh shorts and T-shirts and combed their hair. She wondered if they’d usually do that to go into town, or if they were making a special effort.
In Tifton, Eamon parked in the street.
“I’ve got to get something at the pharmacy,” Parker mentioned. “I’ll meet you at Oinkers after.” He wandered off.
Eamon nodded and turned to Emily.
“Actually, I need to go to the livestock store down yonder – do you mind? Oinkers is just there on the corner. You can come with me, or take a look around and meet us there, it’s up to you.”
Emily stuffed her hands in her shorts pockets with a shrug.
“Actually, I think I’ll wander around a few minutes. I haven’t spent much time in town.”
As Eamon disappeared around the corner, she set off down the street, her hands linked behind her back. She stopped to peer in through store windows or wandered inside to check out their wares. Everywhere she went, people nodded or said hello, curiosity in their eyes. She smiled and responded in kind, soaking up the atmosphere. Tifton wasn’t really a small town – but compared to places she was used to, it was sleepy and quaint in that charming way only small towns could manage.
She paused at a glass door next to a long-closed Blockbuster Video. The lettering on it read Tifton West Medical Center, General Practitioners,” followed by three doctors’ names. Inside was a cozy waiting room – a television hung just below the ceiling soundlessly played a cartoon. A few plush chairs lined one wall across from a reception de
sk where a woman with a red bob held a phone against her ear with her shoulder.
Then she spotted the sign – black marker on white printer paper – taped to the front of the desk. HELP WANTED – GENERAL PRACTITIONER.
Her eyes narrowed. She was looking for a job, but she wanted to be a big-city surgeon in a hospital with a stellar reputation, not a GP in a small-town practice in south Georgia. Still, her curiosity was piqued. She frowned, then pushed the door open.
An electronic bell chimed overhead and the woman behind the counter glanced her way, still speaking into the receiver.
The woman finished the call, and Emily walked up to the desk. She was suddenly aware of how casually she was dressed: no makeup, her hair in a ponytail, wearing khaki shorts and a plain T-shirt. She probably looked like she was twelve years old. Oh well.
“Hi.”
The woman smiled and wrote something on a ledger in front of her before looking up at Emily. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I was just wondering about the Help Wanted sign.”
The woman arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Are you a GP?”
“Actually, I’m a general surgeon – I just finished my residency up in Boston. I came down here for a friend’s wedding. And, well, I saw the sign and it made me curious. I’m not really trained as a GP and it’s not what I was looking for, but …” She shrugged.
The woman smiled again. “I’m Jocelyn, but most people call me Joss.”
“I’m Emily Zhu. Nice to meet you, Joss.”
“You too, Emily. Well, let’s see … the position is still available. It’s only part-time – all the GPs here actually double-up at the hospital – but it’s a paid position, and after twelve months the partners plan to review things to see whether or not it’s still a good fit and whether you want to buy into the partnership. The partners are Joe Hamilton and Maria Suarez. Dr. Ramachandra just accepted a position in Atlanta, so he’s selling them back his share. Does that answer your questions?”
“Yes, it does, thank you.”
Emily pursed her lips. It sounded flexible, and there was a possibility of doing surgery at the local hospital at the same time. She loved the quiet feel here – she hadn’t been this relaxed in years. What if she could live this way? What would Eamon think about her sticking around.
Then her heart lurched. What would her parents think?
“Here, why don’t you take my husband’s card, just in case? It’s got our e-mail address and fax number on it, so you can send us your resume. It’s a pretty great place to work, if you ask me, but then I’m probably biased since I’m married to the boss.” Joss laughed.
Emily looked at the card, which belonged to Dr. Hamilton.“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
She headed back out onto the street, her pulse racing. What was she doing? Was she actually considering moving here? She didn’t know anything about the place other than that it was quaint, hot and sleepy, and you could find a dive bar open at ten in the morning. But if she really needed a taste of the city once in a while, Atlanta and Jacksonville were only a few hours away …
She was getting ahead of herself. They might not even consider her for the job. She wasn’t a GP, which would likely disqualify her … though Joss hadn’t said so. She barely remembered her General Practice rotation – she’d been studying up on her surgical knowledge the whole time and hadn’t paid as much attention as she should’ve. Still, it wouldn’t take much to get her licensure as a GP. What would it hurt to apply?
She pondered it as she walked toward Oinkers, a seedy-looking establishment with a large faded sign of a cartoon hog swinging over the door. It declared itself a barbecue restaurant, and she remembered Parker saying it the best one around. She entered and frowned at the dirty floor, mismatched furnishings and dim lighting. This place didn’t look like it would serve anything good. Then she took a sniff, and her mouth began to water.
The server led her to a corner booth where Parker and Eamon waited, each cradling a half-full Mason jar in one hand. Eamon nodded to her with twinkling eyes and an impressive display of dimples that made her head spin as she sat beside him. “Thought we might have to come looking for you, but Parker reminded me that it’d be hard for anyone to get lost in Tifton.” He chuckled and took a sip of his drink.
The waitress, who looked to be seventeen at most, appeared by her side. She smacked gum between her teeth and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Would you like a drink?”
Emily frowned. “Hmmm …” She reached for one of the menus that lay piled in the center of the table.
Parker laughed. “No need for that – you have to try the sweet tea in a place like this.”
“Okay, I’ll have some sweet tea.”
The girl nodded, then disappeared. “What did you get up to?” asked Eamon.
“Not much, just looking around. It’s a cute town.” Her pulse raced. He was so close to her, she could feel his warmth against her arm, could sense his nearness through the fabric of her shirt. She picked up a menu and began flicking through it, not even seeing the words in front of her. Her drink arrived and she hastily took a gulp. It was so sweet, her eyes bulged.
Eamon laughed. “Good. Huh?”
She took a second mouthful. “Very good, but I’m sure I’ll go into a sugar coma before I finish the glass.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be Southern sweet tea if you didn’t.” His eyes flashed and she felt her cheeks burn.
“So are you heading home tomorrow?” asked Parker.
She blinked. Was she? She hadn’t thought about returning to Boston in days. She didn’t want to go, not yet. She had nothing to go back to, save an empty apartment with a dead potted plant on the counter. No Harley to wag his tail and follow her around. No noisy roommates. No family. And no job. “Um … actually, do you mind if I stay a little longer?” She glanced sideways at Eamon.
His expression didn’t change. “Yeah, of course. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” He exchanged a look with Parker.
Her face burned. “I’m sorry, that’s an imposition. It’s fine, I’ll leave – you’ve got things you have to do.”
“No, stay, please.” Parker’s voice was warm and sincere.
“Okay, thank you. I promise, it won’t be much longer – I just have some things I need to work out.” Emily could feel Eamon’s eyes on her, as though he was trying to drill into her head to find out what she was thinking. Good luck to him – even she wasn’t sure what she was thinking, except that she didn’t know what she wanted. And until she did, she couldn’t talk about it. She had to go home to Boston sometime, but perhaps she could postpone it a little longer and give herself a chance to think. Maybe even dream a little more.
Chapter 7
Eamon sipped the ice-cold glass of Coke and set it back down on the outdoor table. The afternoon sun warmed his back, and he scooted his chair forward into the shade of the porch roof. He leaned over the table, his finger running down a printout of the ranch’s profit and loss statement, and sighed. Things were tight. Tighter than he would’ve liked.
The back door swung open and Emily stepped outside, wearing a long, flowing midnight-blue dress covered in small pink and yellow flowers. Her hair, freshly washed, hung damp down her back and her face glowed with health and vitality. She looked so much more alive than she had when he’d first met her, as though she was transforming into a confident, vibrant woman in front of his eyes. His body tingled at the sight of her. “Nice shower?” he asked, internally chiding himself over his lack of creativity.
She nodded and sat in a chair across from him. “What are you doing?”
He ran his hands through his hair and grimaced. “Looking over the accounts.”
“Oh. That bad, huh?”
He chuckled. “Bad enough.”
She smiled wryly. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I hate doing paperwork as well. I much prefer having a scalpel in my hand.”
He feigned horror. “Not sure how I feel abou
t that!”
She laughed, and slapped his arm. A bolt of electricity ran down his arm, and through his body, as her hand stopped and rested gently in place where it landed.
She’d seemed so frail, so lost, when she’d first arrived – beautiful but troubled. Now, though, she was almost a different person. He knew she’d lost her job and it was natural she’d be torn up about it, but maybe it was just what she needed.
“Emily, I …”
Parker banged through the back door, the screen whacking against the wall of the house. “There you are,” he said, his face drawn.
Eamon stood and reached for his hat beside the paperwork on the table. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you fix that boundary fence where the oak branch fell yet? We’ve got to get that done before nightfall.”
“Uh, no – I was gonna do that after I looked over this paperwork.”
Parker shifted the strap of his shoulder bag. “I totally forgot I have to head up to Macon to pick up a mare to be covered by Rocket Peak. I’m already running late – can you take care of everything else?”
“I’ve got it. You head on to Macon – we’ll see you when you get back.”
Parker ran down the steps and headed for the pickup, Eamon close behind. He helped his brother hitch up the horse trailer to the back of the truck, then waved goodbye as Parker rolled down the long drive. He’d forgotten about the mare as well … and the fence, to be honest. Too much of his mind was on a certain black-haired doctor. He had to get it back on making sure that the ranch ran smoothly until Dalton got back.
