Turn and Burn_A Blacktop Cowboys Novel

by Lorelei James

  “Cora. What the—”

  She raised her hand to stop his protest. “You’ve covered for your colleagues for the last seven years. They’ve all three managed to take at least two full weeks off every year in their practices. So by their estimation—not mine—they each owe you a week of reciprocity for every year. We’re talking twenty-one weeks. Since it is the slow season, it was no problem for them to step up to the plate and each take two weeks as payback. So you’re also on vacation for six weeks.”

  Fletch knew his jaw hung to the floor. Who did she think she was arbitrarily deciding he needed a vacation? This was his business. She was his employee. She didn’t have the right to make that decision.

  “I recognize the anger in your eyes, Dr. Fletcher. Before you start bellowing at me, I’ll remind you that I am your office manager. Not just some floozy secretary. I’ve been with you since the beginning of your career. In the last year I’ve started to see signs that scare me. You’re snappish. You are skating very close to burnout. You have no life outside the care you give other people’s animals.” Sadness filled her eyes and she lifted her chin. “You’re a good man. And a fine vet. But you need to find some balance in your life.”

  “So you’re forcing the issue?” he said testily. “Forcing me to find balance?”

  “Yes. And this will tick you off even more when I tell you that I discussed this with your father. He agreed with me the only way to get you to see the importance of making changes in your life was to stage an intervention.” Cora hit the intercom button on the phone. “Bruce? You can come out now.”

  Fletch whirled around to see his dad amble in from the operating room. Another shock rolled through him when he stood next to Cora. “You’re in on this too?”

  “Yes. Cora has been worried about you for some time. As have I. We’ve discussed it several times. Since you constantly brush both our concerns aside we joined forces.”

  “Listen, Dad—”

  “No, you listen.”

  Yikes. Fletch hadn’t heard that sharp parental tone in years.

  “This is a done deal. You’re officially on vacation. Drastic measures were necessary, but the only ones who know we had to force this time off on you are the three of us in this room. As far as your colleagues and clients are concerned, you’re taking a scheduled break. As your office manager, I just handled all the details and set it up.”

  “Did you set up a vacation package for me too?” he demanded.

  “God forbid we’d ever presume that much,” Cora said with a sniff.

  Yeah, she’d already presumed a helluva lot.

  “No prepackaged vacation, son. You’ve got the time to do with it as you wish while Cora and I are in Europe—”

  “Wait. You’re going with her?”

  His dad grinned and winked at Cora. “The cat’s out of the bag now, muffin.”

  Muffin? No. Oh, hell no. This wasn’t happening.

  Fletch’s gaze winged between them and he couldn’t believe his eyes. His seventy-seven-year-old father and his seventy-year-old office manager were looking at each other with . . . dear God, was that lust?

  My eyes. Please. Make it stop.

  “I know it’s surprising,” his dad offered.

  Talk about an understatement. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

  “A few months.”

  “A few months?” Fletch repeated.

  “Give or take. And it’s more proof of how preoccupied you are that you didn’t even notice.”

  Just another point he couldn’t argue.

  “I’ve had my eye on Cora for a few years, but I figured a smart, classy woman like her would turn down a busted-up former oil rigger such as myself.”

  “Oh, you and that silver tongue. There’s not a busted up thing about you, Bruce Fletcher. You literally run circles around men half your age,” she volleyed back.

  “I ran after you pretty good, huh?”

  “I sure didn’t mind getting caught,” Cora practically cooed.

  Holy. Fuck. He’d have to jam stakes in his ears to keep from hearing shit like that again.

  “I also have to thank you for introducing me to the Mud Lilies,” Cora said. “They offered me great advice that bolstered my courage to let Bruce know the attraction was mutual.”

  Damn Garnet. Always trying to play matchmaker. Or was that Pearl? Vivien was a sneaky woman. And Tilda. Not to mention Miz Maybelle . . . dammit. They were all in on it. They were all about to get an earful about their damn meddling.

  “So Cora and I booked the vacation together,” his dad said.

  “Together together? Like sharing the same . . . ?”

  “Room? Yes. And we’re beyond needing the lecture about practicing safe sex, son.”

  “Bruce!”

  His dad leaned over and whispered something in Cora’s ear that made her laugh. And blush. And whisper something back that made his father blush.

  Fletch flopped into the closest chair, wondering if he was hallucinating.

  Calling his colleagues and claiming to be the butt of a joke would make him look like an idiot who didn’t have control over his own practice or his only employee.

  A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up at his father. “Son? You okay?”

  “No. You couldn’t have . . . oh, mentioned this last night when we spent two hours together watching the game?”

  “What would you have done?” his dad demanded. “Argued? Fought this—us? No. This was the only way. Even if you do nothing but catch up on your sleep and the medical journals, it’ll be time well spent.”

  The thought of sitting around in his house, doing nothing for days on end made every muscle in his body seize up.

  Then again, the idea of hopping on a plane, living in a hotel, traipsing through some touristy hot spot in the name of relaxation made him break out in hives.

  But it was apparently a done deal; he’d have to find a way to deal with it.

  “When do you two leave?”

  “We’re driving to Denver tonight. Cora’s convinced me to spend Tuesday at the Natural History Museum. Our plane to Heathrow leaves at four a.m. on Wednesday.”

  Suck it up. Your dad is excited about this. Weren’t you just worried he wasn’t getting out of his place enough?

  Yes. But hopping on a plane to Europe seemed a drastic way to curb his addiction to cribbage and Judge Judy.

  “I’d say something witty or profound, but I’m at a loss for words right now and the only thing I can think of is you’d better send me some damn postcards.”

  After he left his work office, he immediately went to his home office.

  Six weeks.

  How the hell was he supposed to fill forty-two days?

  He didn’t golf. Or fish. Or play tennis. Or hike. Or mountain bike.

  His father and Cora had been right in pointing out his lack of outside interests.

  He blew out a breath. Think, man.

  His gaze snagged on the gigantic pile of medical journals and bovine and equine practices updates. He could tackle a couple of those every day.

  Good. Keep going.

  He could finish the paper he’d started about the Ludlows’ Australian sheep-raising philosophy on U.S. soil. They’d gladly give him hard data.

  Another good idea. Tedious, but necessary since it’d been a few years since he’d had anything published.

  If he could do anything, how would he fill his time?

  Easy. He’d spend all of it with Tanna.

  Fletch stopped pacing. Why was he just thinking of her now?

  Because even after the amazing night they’d had, duty had called. So he wasn’t sure if they were technically seeing each other.

  And he wanted to see a lot more of her.

  Problem was, his house was in Rawlins and she
was staying forty-five minutes away.

  So move. Go to her. You can read anywhere. As long as you’ve got your laptop you can work on your research paper.

  Brilliant.

  Also, here was his chance to make good on his promise to help Renner determine whether a commercial stock-breeding program was financially viable. Jackson Stock Contracting purchased rough stock strictly for their own use, but with the company garnering tons of national awards, other stock contractors had approached Renner about expanding into a commercial breeding program. Genetics was Tobin’s area of expertise. Fletch was supposed to delve into specific rules and regulations of a semen collection facility, interstate transport, and equipment needed. Now with all this free time . . . Renner wouldn’t say no to him. Especially if the man wasn’t paying for his time.

  He scrolled through his contact list on his cell phone and hit CALL.

  The man answered on the second ring. “This is Renner Jackson.”

  “Renner? It’s Fletch.”

  “Hey. What’s up, Doc?” Renner snickered.

  Fletch groaned. “Like I haven’t heard that a million times.”

  “I’m sure. So I’ll admit it’s weird that you’re callin’ me. Usually I’m the one in a panic callin’ you.”

  Probably he should’ve gone out and talked to Renner in person. But at least he wouldn’t have to look the man in the eye when he explained the situation. “I need to ask you a favor.”

  “You’ve pulled my ass out of the fire more times than I can count. So anything you need? Name it.”

  “You’ve still got an empty employee trailer up at the Split Rock?”

  “Yep. Why?”

  “I’m taking a six-week sabbatical from my practice.”

  A healthy pause followed. “Shit, Fletch. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s fine. Except for the burnout factor.” He sighed. “I haven’t taken any personal time off since I graduated from vet school. My office manager has been making noise about wanting to take an extended vacation, so I’m giving it to her.”

  Silence.

  “Renner? You there?”

  “Uh-huh. I’m just surprised. Although I think it’s great,” Renner added hastily. “Why were you asking about the trailer?”

  Fletch paced to the big picture window at the rear of the house that boasted a view of the meadow and the rolling hills. “There are a couple of things I’ve been putting off. I can’t concentrate at the office and I’m too easily distracted at home. I need to be somewhat isolated, so my clients can’t get in touch with me and let the other vets covering for me actually fill in. But I don’t want to get too far from Rawlins. My other option is to live in Eli’s horse trailer out at his place, but I doubt he wants me crashing with him and Summer even for a short while.” He paced to the kitchen. “Then I thought . . . the Split Rock is a resort. Maybe I could stay there, but not in the lodge because I can’t afford it. Staying in the employee trailers would be like renting a quiet cabin. Wouldn’t it?”

  “Not a lot of wild parties goin’ on at the employee’s quarters, that’s for sure,” Renner said dryly.

  “That’s what I’m looking for. Somewhere I can come and go as I please. Keep to myself and work at my own pace.”

  “Some days it sucks bein’ your own boss, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m a slave driver to myself, to hear Cora talk.”

  Renner chuckled. But he didn’t say yes.

  “Plus, the benefit for Jackson Stock Contracting would be me bein’ on-site if there was an animal emergency.”

  Another beat of silence passed.

  “I’d intended on paying rent,” Fletch said. “And I wouldn’t expect to eat at the lodge.”

  “Whoa. I haven’t said yea or nay yet, so you don’t hafta hard sell me, Fletch.”

  So what was the holdup? “You need to run it past the shareholders?”

  “I don’t need their approval on something like this.”

  “But?”

  Fletch could almost see Renner jamming his hand through his hair. “But part of me hopes that if I say no you’ll go to a tropical island somewhere and take the time off you need. Find a hot chick in a bikini, get drunk and get laid.”

  Wasn’t like he could confess his thoughts were running along the same lines. But he wouldn’t have to go farther than the trailer next door. But he retorted, “Given the chance . . . would you jet off to an exotic locale for six weeks?”

  “Hell, no. I probably wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “That’s where I’m at. This vacation seemed like a good idea at the time and it’s sort of embarrassing to admit I don’t know what to do with myself either. Which is why I haven’t mentioned it to anyone.” Hopefully Renner bought that little white lie. “I know I’ve been lax doin’ my part with researching the commercial stock-breeding program, so I figured I could invest time in that venture while I’m there.”

  “If you ever leave your vet practice, I want you goin’ to work for me, because, man, you can really sell it.”

  Fletch laughed. “So do we have a deal?”

  “Absolutely. As long as you give me the real reason for leaving your beautiful house in Rawlins to move into a dumpy trailer in the middle of nowhere. And I ain’t talkin’ the examples you gave me—valid as they are. What’s the biggest reason you want this?”

  Fuck. So much for his life as a con man. “Tanna.”

  “What about her?”

  “I’m crazy about her. Tanna and I have been seeing each other off and on since before the branding. With this break, I’ve got the chance to be with her without phone calls interrupting me all hours of the night, or trying to squeeze time to see her after I’ve worked a seventeen-hour day. If she’s not interested, so be it. But I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t believe there’s something between us worth exploring . . . if we had the time. And now we do.”

  Renner sighed. “I know exactly what you’re saying. Before I met Tierney, I had no life besides work. While I love how I make my living, I love my wife more. And I hear her voice in the back of my head, telling me this is one of those romantic gestures women love so much. So I’ll agree to it. But if you and Tanna part ways, you’ll have to leave, not her.”

  “Understood. And thanks, man, I owe you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fletch looked longingly at his big-screen TV, his state-of-the-art computer system, and his custom-made bed as he packed for his odd adventure. Then he reminded himself there were more important things at stake than creature comforts.

  He loaded medical magazines and reference tomes in two duffel bags. His laptop and Wi-Fi connection ended up in his overnight bag along with cords for all his electronic devices. Glancing at the pile of stuff at his front door, he thought to himself, So much for packing light. He’d have to come back for the rest later. He wanted to be sitting on the deck of his trailer when Tanna walked by after work. Maybe he’d act all casual-like—kicked back in a lawn chair, wearing board shorts and a puka-shell necklace, strumming a guitar in his bare feet.

  Hey, the laid-back image worked for Devin McClain and Tanna had seemed to like him a whole helluva lot.

  She likes you a whole helluva lot—she said so, remember?

  House locked up tight, supplies laid in—at least enough to get him through supper tonight and breakfast tomorrow, he started toward the Split Rock.

  As he reached the outskirts of Rawlins, he debated on stopping by his dad’s place to say good-bye. The devil on his left shoulder reminded him that his father had conspired with Cora behind his back. The angel on his right shoulder reminded him his father would be gone for six weeks.

  The devil won out. No surprise, he usually did.

  Fletch let his mind wander on the drive. When he was on duty, driving from ranch to ranch, he focused on what the issues might be
at his next stop. His focus was so absolute he barely noticed the scenery, reminding himself he’d lived in this area nearly all his life. So this time, he watched the topography change, marveling at how fast that change occurred. Although most of his friends were in the ranching business, their land was vastly different from one another’s.

  No one was in the office besides Renner when Fletch stopped in to pick up the key to the trailer. They spent very little time talking specifics on what Renner considered priorities with the breeding program. Fletch wasn’t surprised to learn that Tobin was in charge. Wouldn’t that be a change, having a coworker? He hadn’t been forced to mesh personalities or differing ideas with anyone since he’d started his own business. Preferring to do things his own way, at his own speed, was the major reason he’d gone into business for himself in the first place.

  But he liked Tobin. He respected him. Now if he could just stop thinking of him as a kid. Tobin was only three years younger than Hugh, and Fletch didn’t consider him a kid.

  He’d managed to avoid Tanna as he’d left the lodge. After unloading his stuff, he stared at the queen-sized bed and his back spasmed in protest. Guess he’d add furniture store to his list of places to stop in Rawlins tomorrow.

  Three cans of ravioli and four pieces of wheat toast served as supper. He tried organizing his reference materials, but he was too antsy.

  Since Renner had given him the green light for a small grated fire on the deck, he traipsed through the wooded area behind the trailers, looking for deadwood. Took three trips until he had enough to last a couple of nights. He busted the dry limbs into manageable pieces and figured he’d start the fire at dusk.

  No surprise Tobin stopped by. As well as Hugh. They didn’t question his sudden change of residence and they both seemed happy he’d be around for a while. When pressed on his daily plans, Fletch remained vague, not wanting to commit to anything until he’d had a chance to talk to Tanna.

  After the guys left, Dave and Yvette, the property caretaker and his wife, who headed up the housekeeping and laundry for the lodge, wandered over. They’d been married forty years and relocated to Wyoming after Dave retired from the military. With Yvette’s years of experience in the housekeeping side of the hotel industry, they’d seized the chance to get to work together at the Split Rock and live in the gorgeous Wyoming countryside. Of course, Fletch hadn’t known any of this at the outset of the conversation. Surprised him sometimes at how easily people just told all to a stranger.