For years he'd lived in Wade Parker's shadow. Until he'd become mayor. Then, finally, he'd had a say; he'd had respect. Until he'd been made a fool of, yet again, by the town's love for Wade. How humiliating it had been to hear them say, "Why don't we let Wade and Doc look after it? After all, Wade's a rancher and who better than a rancher and our own vet to know what we need?" How hard it had been to swallow the anger, the hurt. Well, now they'd see, wouldn't they? They'd see just how bloody smart Wade was.
Five
He'd forgotten all about paying her.
Between the urgency of the surgery, the confusion of her being Doc's replacement and the cow dying, it had slipped his mind. Regardless of his still being angry about being misled, he couldn't, in good conscience, delay bringing her the money he owed her. He'd called for a vet and though he'd lost one animal, he'd come to realize that he could have lost both.
Not that it made parting with the money any easier. He'd not only had to swallow his pride and ask James to make up the total amount since he hadn't had enough on his own, but he'd also had to use the little money he had saved to go toward a quality breeding mare.
James had offered to pay the whole amount and let Wade keep the money for the mare, but Wade had refused. As much as he could, he'd pay his own way.
No matter how much it hurt.
Yellow tulips marked the end of her lane. Old Doc Fletcher's place--hers now, he reminded himself--wasn't more than a one-story house and a small barn. Two small corrals were nestled against the barn. One was empty, a horse grazed contentedly in the other. It didn't seem troubled by the blazing sun that sent waves of heat shimmering along the ground. Just behind the corrals was a small pasture where a cow and calf basked in the sun.
Hearing them approach, the mare raised her head, pricked her ears, then pranced to the fence. With big brown eyes she watched as they walked by. Whiskey, smelling the mare, kept his eye on her as well, though he was well-mannered enough to keep to Wade's direction.
Wade didn't see Jillian anywhere, but figuring she'd be inside where it was cooler, headed for the house. He'd no sooner tied Whiskey to her porch when he heard footsteps behind him.
Her hair was once again folded into a thick braid and, like in his barn, the sleeves of her blouse were rolled to her elbows. In her hand she carried a pitchfork. He wondered if she'd been working anyway or if she'd grabbed it when she saw it was him.
Her skirt scattered dust as she moved. Green eyes never left his as she came to stand before him. She poked the tines of the pitchfork into the dirt between them.
"Mr. Parker."
He pushed his hat back. "Miss Matthews."
Freckles he hadn't noticed the other day danced across her cheeks and bridged her nose. He had the most ridiculous urge to trace them with his fingers.
Hell, Wade, you've got enough damn problems, he reminded himself. A woman like Jillian-–the likes of which he'd sworn off after Amy died–-was the last thing he, or Annabelle, needed.
"Before you say anything," she said as he opened his mouth, "I'd like you to come with me." She yanked the fork from the ground and headed toward the barn.
His eyes fell to the sway of her trim hips. He couldn't deny that, despite the tension between them, the view was amazing. And it stirred blood that had gone far too long without being stirred. Whether he liked it or not.
The damp coolness of the barn enveloped him as soon he stepped through the doors. He sighed in relief, tugged at the shirt that had clung to his back within moments of leaving the ranch.
The barn smelled of straw and hay and a menagerie of animals, several of which shuffled in their pens at his presence. Wade blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Since he'd never had reason to be inside Doc's barn before, what he saw surprised him.
"You couldn't have possibly brought all these with you from Pennsylvania," he said.
"No, I didn't. They were your Doc Fletcher's and I agreed to keep them since he didn't want to take them along."
The barn had a short aisle with stalls on either side. Jillian moved to the first one and Wade followed. The gate was open and she stepped through it, lifted a cage off the ground and brought it forward. Inside a plump white rabbit twitched its nose incessantly. It backed to the far edge of the cage and thumped its back foot.
"Mr. Fletcher named him Whiskers. He's not used to me yet, but I'm working on bringing him 'round."
She poked her fingers through the cage. The rabbit thumped again. She put the cage down and moved to the next, slightly larger stall. A Billy goat came right over to the gate, its mouth reaching to nibble on her sleeve.
"This is Zeke. Mr. Fletcher warned me he eats everything in sight, so watch your clothes." She gave the goat an affectionate scratch under the chin, then gently turned its face before it could gnaw on her blouse.
"You don't keep him outside?"
"I put him out during the day. I was about to move them when I heard you ride up."
A scuttling sound across the aisle drew their attention.
"Hello, Rascal," Jillian said. "According to Mr. Fletcher, Rascal here kept finding his way into the house and making a mess of things. He tried shooing him away but Rascal always came back. Miles figured the best way to keep his property intact was to keep Rascal caged."
Jillian shrugged. "I'm thinking of letting him go. Doesn't seem right to keep a wild animal penned up."
"And if he makes a mess of your house?" Wade asked.
For the first time he saw a real smile from her and it knocked the breath from his lungs. Her hands were smudged with dirt, the bottom of her skirt was dusty and soiled from cleaning stalls, but her face glowed. Life filled her eyes and Wade couldn't help but stare.
"I guess if he does it more than once I'll have to rethink the decision to keep him caged. Come on, there's one last thing I want you to see."
Wade followed her to the outside paddock and the pretty little chestnut mare he'd seen when he'd ridden up. The horse leaned her head against Jillian and was rewarded with a scratch on the neck.
"This is the only animal I brought with me from home," she began, "and her name is Hope."
He propped a boot on the lowest rail, braced his forearms on the topmost one. Though he had yet to figure out why she was doing this, he was interested. And despite himself, he enjoyed the sweet sound of her voice.
"There was an old man that lived a few miles north of the city. He had a farm, a good one actually, at one time. But after his wife died, his own health started to deteriorate. He slowly began losing his mind. It was his doctor, a friend of my father's, who said the man had animals and wasn't looking after them properly. Honestly, most times I think he believed he'd fed them already. He had a few arguments about that with my father when my father commented on how thin some of them were. He swore he'd only just come back from feeding them.
"Anyhow, my father did his best to look in on him, but he had other people depending on him, clients as well as family. Time began to stretch between visits. He'd bring feed with him, but each time he brought more, it was to find the last bags he'd brought were still mostly full.
"The last time we rolled into that yard, the stench was terrible. Animals lay rotting in the snow. We found the old man dead in his bed. We tried to save those animals that were left, but they were too far gone. Most had starved or were too close to death to bring them back.
"Hope was the last standing and I took her home with me that day. It took a while, and there was a time we weren't sure she'd ever recover, but she did."
"How old is she?"
"Three."
Wade looked the filly over. She was gorgeous. Nice lines, solid confirmation. "Do you know her pedigree?"
"Since she was born before his mind was too lost, he had all the papers in his house." Jillian gave the horse another pat. "She has excellent breeding."
Had circumstances been different he'd have offered to buy the mare then and there. The picture of the colt that could come from this anima
l and Whiskey was clear as a mountain stream and filled Wade's heart with longing. If only…
"Why did you show me these animals?" he asked.
"Because, Mr. Parker, I love them. All of them. And even though I've only been here a few days, I'd do anything to protect them and keep them healthy. It's not only what I do, it's who I am."
She squared her shoulders. Considering he knew he was in for a lecture, he shouldn't have noted how it made the cotton stretch over her breasts.
"I'm terribly sorry about your cow. I swear to you, I did everything right. Sometimes these things just happen, despite our best efforts. Medicine isn't perfect, Mr. Parker. I know you think things may have been different had Mr. Fletcher been the one to operate, but this wasn't my first cesarean. I've done many. My father was well respected in veterinary medicine and I learned at his side. I'm not here to play at being a veterinarian; I am one."
She'd taken his words from the other day and thrown them back in his face. Part of him admired the gumption it took to do so. Part of him thought she was damn pretty. The rest of him warned not to be swayed by either fact. She'd never be content with a man like him, a simple rancher.
"I suppose I partly deserved that."
She raised her brows. "Partly?"
Wade pushed away from the corral.
"I stand behind the fact that you deliberately misled us when you accepted our position. Because of that, and due to the dire circumstances, I was angry and upset."
"You accused me of killing your animal."
"I know, and for that I'm sorry. I've cooled off since then. I know things could have been worse, that I could have lost them both if you hadn't been there."
Her shoulders eased. He expected her to say something about how she was glad he'd come to his senses. How she'd told him from the beginning that she knew what she was doing. Instead she simply nodded.
"I know," she said, lifting her hand, "that I wasn't completely honest when you hired me, but Mr. Parker, I can do this. I've trained for it my whole life. All I ask is that, despite what happened at your ranch, that I be given a fair chance."
Wade took off his hat, clasped it between his hands. "I can't speak for how folks around here will take the news of you being a woman."
"About as well as you did, I imagine," she said with a smile.
She really was a spitfire, he thought as his own mouth curved. "More than likely. They're not going to be happy with either one of us, I'm afraid."
"Tell them you didn't know I was a woman; that should leave you blameless."
Maybe he hadn't known at the time, but he sure as hell couldn't deny she was a woman now. Wade blew out his breath, rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"I'm not sure that'll be enough to pacify them all. At any rate, I can't force them to call on you."
"You're acceptance would go a long way to reassure them."
"Well, that puts me in a hell of a position."
"Why? You just acknowledged that I wasn't to blame for your cow."
"That's right, but my time is spread thinner than ice in spring and frankly I'd rather not-"
"All you have to do is say the truth. That I did good work and you'd call on me again should the need arise."
A kick of breeze twirled between them. It brought along Jillian's scent, an intriguing mix of soap, sun and the unmistakable smell of a woman's heated flesh. He swallowed hard as his heart lurched and his groin thickened. Well, the need was arising right now, but it wasn't the one she was speaking of. And it didn't make him happy.
She regarded him closely, those pretty green eyes probing his. "You do stand behind your decision to hire me, don't you?"
Why did his life always have to be so damn complicated? If he supported Jillian he knew he'd rile at least half the town. But how could he not support her considering he'd brought her here. She'd moved across a country, for Pete's sake. How could he simply tell her to turn around and go back? And, as he'd witnessed, she did appear to be a fine doctor. It was just as Shane had said, however, that his problems where the vet was concerned were just beginning.
"Yes, Jillian. I stand behind my decision to hire you."
She blessed him with another smile, this one even more potent than the last. He needed to leave before he fooled himself into thinking that it would be safe to explore the desire drumming through his blood. She was a woman hell-bent on following her dream regardless of the cost. Since Wade had already paid that price once, he refused to pay it again. No matter what his body wanted.
Fishing into his pocket, he took the folded bills and handed them to her.
"I never asked what your fees are, but James and I reckoned this should be close. If it's not, let me know." He jammed his hat back onto his head and crossed the yard to fetch his horse.
He put his foot in the stirrup. Her small but firm hand closed around his arm. It was the first time she'd touched him and it grabbed him round the throat. Slowly, he turned.
Lord, she was close. Close enough to see the gold flecks in her green eyes. Close enough to hear her breathing. Close enough to grab and yank against him. He cleared his throat, hoped to hell she didn't look down.
"What is it?"
Her chin angled up. "When my father died he left me a small inheritance, enough to get me here and, if I'm frugal, enough for the basic necessities for three to four months. This is my livelihood, Wade, I'll do whatever it takes to get folks to accept me. It means a lot to me that you're on my side."
Of all the things she could have said, those were the most effective. He may not want to get close to her but he couldn't deny her words touched him. Wasn't he, too, simply trying to earn a living? Trying to keep food on the table? While she may have lied, may have chosen an unconventional way of going about it, Wade knew how hard it was some days to just make ends meet. Who was he to make hers any harder?
"I'll stand behind my decision to hire you but Jillian, I really don't have time to seek out each farmer around these parts."
Her smile lit her face, captivated him until he had to remind himself to blink. The hand that still rested on his arm squeezed gently. For two, three beats, their eyes held, questioned. Wade shifted his gaze from hers to her hand and back again. Her eyes widened, almost as though she'd forgotten she was touching him. With a fresh pink flush brightening her cheeks, Jillian lowered her hand.
"Thank you."
Afraid if he opened his mouth he'd give in to the urge to wrap his arms around her small waist and pull her in for a kiss, he tipped his hat, mounted Whiskey and headed for home.
***
Dazed and confounded by her reaction to Wade, Jillian wandered back to Hope's corral. Animals didn't talk, but she definitely understood them better than she understood herself.
Opening the pen, Jillian grabbed the brush from the bucket in the corner and, with long slow strokes that soothed Hope as much as they did her, brushed her horse.
She'd gotten a silly flutter in her belly when she'd stepped from the barn and seen Wade at her porch. Considering his last words to her, she shouldn't have felt anything toward him but anger. Not that she hadn't felt that as well, but underneath the fury had been an undeniable, completely female and non-rational flicker of attraction.
The flicker had turned to flame when she'd touched him. In his barn, they'd touched due to confinement and though she'd felt a reaction then, it didn't compare to the pull she'd felt this time.
"Nothing like it," she murmured, remembering the feel of muscle beneath her hand, the way he'd looked at her. But then she knew looks could be deceiving. She'd been fooled by them once before. She'd given Clint her heart, almost shared her body, only to learn that he'd expected--no, demanded--that she give up her silly desire to remain a vet once they were married.
She'd given him back his ring and he'd laughed. Laughed and told her that no man would ever want her as long as she was a vet. Laughed and said he couldn't wait for the day she realized that and came home begging to have him back.
She'd do whatever it took to prove Clint wrong, because, as God was her witness, she wasn't ever going back to Pennsylvania. Even though she'd never take Clint back, even if he begged, she'd never give him the satisfaction of seeing her back home.
Hope's head lifted. Jillian looked over as another rider turned into her lane. Tossing the brush into the bucket, giving a quick glance to ensure there was water in the other, Jillian slipped from the pen.
Could it be someone needed her already? Or, had word gotten around about Wade's cow and the fact that their new vet was a woman and they'd come to demand she leave? Her belly twitched. She placed a hand over it in an attempt to still the nerves. She stood tall. Whoever it was, for whatever reason, she would only let them see her confidence.
She smoothed her skirt and waited by her porch as the man in black slid out of the saddle.
He was almost as tall as Wade, she noticed, and appeared to be close to the same age. Equally as fine-looking, too, she thought when he took off his hat and she saw his midnight black hair and grey eyes. She caught the glint of silver, looked down at the gun belt and wondered what reason the sheriff had to call on her.
"Afternoon, Miss Matthews."
"Sheriff." She cocked her head to the side. "Should I be concerned that you already know my name?"
His lips curved into a very nice smile. "It's not a bad thing. Word gets round in a small town."
"I imagine it does." She gestured to the porch. "Would you like to sit? I can get you some lemonade."
"No, thanks. I won't be staying long."
"Then what can I do for you?"
He leaned against the rail of the porch, crossed his arms. "Town's beginning to buzz about you."
Well, she'd expected it but nevertheless her stomach sank. "That didn't take long."
Another Chance Page 4
