by Anne Jolin
I winked at her. “Says me.”
Never been someone who’d turn away a pretty girl, but I sure ain’t the kind of man who’d let his baby sister get a broken heart over the likes of a ladies’ man like Wells Donahue.
Best he not get too comfortable here.
“RAY, BABY.” NORA APPEARED IN the doorway to my office.
I’d grown up not far from here in Peace River, Alberta with my mother and had only moved to Willow Bay six months ago to take over my father’s veterinary practice once he retired. I inherited not only his last name, but also a derivative of his first, because though my name was Rayne, everybody called me Ray. Including, Nora. She had been Dad’s vet tech for nearly twenty years and since his retirement, I guess I’d inherited her too.
Lifting my gaze from the chart on my desk, I smiled at her as she practically jumped up and down in her tennis shoes. “Yes?”
Nora was forty-eight, busty in all the right places, and even in her pink scrubs, she had perfect blonde pixie hair. She was also my saving grace.
My parents were divorced. And while they’d always been on good terms, I had never lived with my dad. I didn’t know much about him or Willow Bay for that matter. As such, Nora was my eyes and ears, and often my entertainment.
“Lady’s owner is here to pick her up.”
“Great. If you could show him to the barn, I’ll be right out.”
She practically beamed, leaving just as fast as she had appeared.
I knew the owner of Remington’s Lady was Owen Daniels. I’d met the Daniels sisters on more than one occasion over the last few months. I’d learned they were fond of my dad and had therefore taken a liking to me by what I assumed was association. Dad had been their family vet for some time and had a hand in saving London’s horse Achilles from rat poisoning and smoke inhalation just a year before my arrival in Willow Bay.
Placing the chart I’d been working on back on the shelves behind my desk, I pulled the file for Owen Daniels and stuffed a carrot into the back pocket of my jeans.
When I worked in the clinic, I wore scrubs like Nora, though mine weren’t pink. But when I was tending to larger animals in the barn, I wore what usually consisted of jeans, boots and some shirt that I wouldn’t cry over if it got ruined. Which happened a lot.
Today was no exception. My unruly brunette curls were pulled into a ponytail. My feet were shoved into worn hiking boots (you were never supposed to wear steel-toed boots around horses). My black jeans had been clean when I’d put them on this morning, and the coffee stain on my shirt had definitely not been there an hour ago.
So, I guess I’m a little more grit than glamour.
Shoving the last (a bit too large) bite of bran muffin into my mouth, I push out the doors that led to the clinic’s driveway.
There was a dusty red pickup truck with a horse trailer hitched to the back blocking my view of the barn. Sidestepping around it, I opened the file in my hand to refresh my memory. We’d had Lady here for a little over four months, but I liked to cover all the bases with an owner before we discharged an animal from our care.
“Oh, here she is!” I heard Nora boom over the flat land.
Next was a deep and gravelly voice. “She?”
Lifting up my head, I choked on my muffin.
His butt.
That was literally all I could see. A ten-gallon, tan cowboy hat and a Wrangler-clad ass. Somewhere in between, I was pretty sure I’d skimmed over some pretty impressive muscles, but that butt…
My coughing (from my choking) must have encouraged him to turn.
I declared the front wasn’t so bad either.
He stood at what I had to guess was at least six foot four and stretched across the broad expanse of his chest was a faded black T-shirt. The man looked rough, not in a bad way, but in the kind of way that made you wish you could spend a lifetime curled up in his lap. A five o’clock shadow darkened his hard jaw, and eyes as green as the summer grass watched me as I stopped a few feet from him.
“I’ll be on my way,” Nora muttered and disappeared across the parking lot.
The silence left in her wake made me uncomfortable so, after swallowing, I decided to fill it.
“Ray Brookes.” I held out my hand to him, and he studied it.
Eventually, he slid a much larger, calloused hand into mine and squeezed. “Darlin’, I’ve met Ray Brookes, and you sure as hell ain’t him.”
“Oh.” I tugged at my hand a little as a result of the odd backhanded compliment, but it didn’t budge. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothin’ you need to be apologizin’ for.”
He was rough around the edges but charming in a way that cowboys so often were. They were a legend after all, weren’t they?
“I’m Ray’s daughter, Rayne. I took over his business just over six months ago. Everyone calls me Ray,” I clarified, feeling an uneasy need to justify his confusion.
Clenching his jaw, he chuckled a bit, and my core tightened. “That’s what them two been snickerin’ about at the dinner table,” he muttered.
“Pardon me?”
He shook his head. “Nothin’.”
“Okay.” I paused awkwardly.
“Well…” He tipped his head to the side and let go of my hand.
I studied the lines around his eyes that said he laughed a lot, and repeated back to him, “Well…”
“We gonna stand here all day darlin’, or are you takin’ me to see my girl?” he playfully chastised, resulting in my cheeks burning.
Taking my hand back from where it was left hanging alone in the air, I scurried around him and into the barn. I could hear his boots on the ground behind me, slow and steady. Cowboys like him weren’t ever in much of a rush to do anything so long as their two feet were on the ground. Stopping just three stalls in from the entrance, I slid the lock on the heavy wooden door and opened it just enough to shimmy my body inside.
Owen, who’d yet to introduce himself formally, followed closely behind me.
“Hey Lady,” I cooed. “Look who’s here to see you?”
The mare’s ears twitched at the gentle quality of my voice, and she lifted her head from the pile of hay on the ground. Remington’s Lady was a two-year-old Buckskin quarter horse. That meant she was a light tan color, with a brilliant black mane and tail, and a faded black stripe down her back. She was a gorgeous horse with a laid back demeanour that was rare among mares. They tended to be a bit bitchy as a whole.
“There’s my girl.” Owen’s gravelly voice drawled from over my shoulder.
Twisting her neck, Lady neighed softly at the sight of him.
“Looks like she missed you.” I laughed and crossed my arms over my chest.
The heat of him moved from my back to my side. I looked up to find him looking at me from under the brim of his cowboy hat. “Ain’t no way she missed me much as I been missin’ her.”
I smiled, but Lady had enough of waiting and shoved him with her muzzle.
Owen flattened his right hand and placed it on her forehead, while the other ran back and forth down her neck. “So how’s she doin’?” he asked.
Tickling her muzzle, I moved a little closer to them.
“The rodeo vet had been correct in his initial assessment. Lady suffered a bone bruise on the coffin bone of her back right side.” I pointed to her hind right leg out of habit. “Although it wasn’t as serious as a fracture, she did have some fluid build up in the bone and a lot of swelling.” Owen nodded as I spoke. “We isolated the sore zone with nerve blocks and gave her an MRI to delineate the bruise. That being said, Lady is doing great now.”
As if on cue, Lady stretched her neck and sniffed my jeans loudly.
“She needed the four months off. We’ve been giving her some anti-inflammatory medication, which she finished last month. Long and short of it, injured bones heal slowly but they’re typically good as new once the healing is done, and Lady seems to have healed perfectly.”
Lady snorted and shoved my h
ips with her muzzle.
“You can have it when I’m done,” I said, scolding the mare and her ears twitched again.
Owen’s laugh boomed in the small space of the stall. “Always been a pushy thing.”
I didn’t stop to comment on that but instead continued with my recommendations. “I would suggest a good shoeing soon, perhaps with some pads. In my opinion, this might help prevent re-injury but otherwise, just try and keep her on solid footing if you can.”
He just stared at me.
The lines at the edges of his face creased and his dark eyelashes lowered his lids to half-mast. It was the heat behind his study of me that stirred to life a flutter in my belly. I tried briefly to remember the last time a man had looked at me that way and I’d noticed.
I couldn’t remember.
“If you don’t know a good farrier then I can give you some contact information.” I quickly filled the silence, but Lady shoved me with her muzzle again and this time I stumbled backward a few inches into Owen’s waiting arm.
“Easy,” he whispered low, and I wasn’t sure which female in the stall he was talking to.
Stepping out of his embrace, I grabbed the carrot from my back pocket and positioned myself to the left of Lady. “Should we show your daddy what we learned?”
She tossed her head up and down in the air and I smiled.
I turned my back to him and ran a hand down the front of her left leg. Once at the base, I squeezed lightly and made a clucking sound with my tongue. Lady responded to my cue, lifting her leg into my hand.
“Good girl,” I said, praising her.
I moved my other hand, the one with the carrot, under her belly, between her legs and pursed my lips together to make a kissing sound. We’d practiced this over two dozen times since she’d been here, and as a result, Lady dipped her head down and the leg I was holding moved toward the ground.
She was bowing.
Once far down enough, I let her have the carrot and released her from the bow. “Such a smart girl,” I said, praising her again and stood back up to give her a pat on the shoulder.
Turning on my heel, I was staring right into the wall of Owen’s chest.
“S-s-orry,” I stuttered, trying to take a step backward to create more space between us.
This only caused him to take another step toward me, crowding me against his horse.
He still didn’t speak, the rise and fall of my chest becoming erratic from having him so close.
“Would you go out with me?” he asked. The heat in his green stare had not subsided but along the ridge of his iris was an added shine of determination.
My heart clambered against my ribs, and I placed my palms flat against his chest. “No.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “Why not?”
“I don’t date cowboys.”
He pressed his chest into my hands and chuckled. “Go out with me.”
“No,” I said, a bit stronger this time. I stood steadfast in my answer.
Lifting a hand, he tucked a loose curl behind my ear. “I’m not real good with no, darlin’.”
“Guess you better learn to be.” I ducked under his arm and began backing toward the stall door.
“Don’t much like learnin’ either.” He smirked and leaned into his horse.
I decided to just ignore the come-on completely. “Well, let’s get this Lady trailered up then.” My voice had gotten higher as my nerves became wired.
“Sure thing, darlin’.”
I signed in relief. Passing him the lead rope, he clipped it onto the base of Lady’s halter while I held open the door for them.
“Wouldn’t be lookin’ so off the hook if I was you.” Owen smiled, and the sight nearly knocked me on my butt in the dirt.
My mouth gaped as I half ran to keep up with them. “W-w-hat?”
Stepping into the trailer, he ignored me.
I fidgeted impatiently as I waited for him to finish loading his horse.
Sliding the last bolt into place on the closed trailer door, he walked over to me.
“I’ll bill the invoice to the Willow Bay Stables account?” I asked, backing up into the open space of the driveway.
There really was nowhere to go.
“Sure,” he confirmed. He hooked a finger in the belt loop of my jeans, tugging me to him, and said in a lower tone, “I ain’t gonna quit askin’ you out until you say yes.”
My mouth dropped open.
The audacity of this man was appalling.
“Listen.” I shook my head. “It’s nothing personal. I’m sure you’re a nice person, but I don’t date cowboys.”
He pulled me closer and tipped his hat. “I’ll wear you down, darlin’.”
There weren’t a lot of things in life I was certain about, but I knew one thing for certain: loving reckless men led to heartbreak, and cowboys were the reckless kind of man.
“Hey, Ray.” I grinned when I looked around him to see Sadie, Nora’s partner, walking toward us.
Sadie Jones was the exact opposite of Nora Park.
While Nora was all blonde, bubbly, and sparkling personality, Sadie was effortlessly cool. She sauntered our way in ripped jeans, black stilettoes and a white tank top that hung loose on her lean frame. Her black hair was pushed back by a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and the blue of her eyes was remarkably beautiful in contrast to her rich chocolate skin.
When I was fifty, I wanted to look as hot as Sadie and Nora.
“Hey, Sadie,” I called back with a half wave.
Her lips curled into a smile as Owen turned and held out his hand, letting go of his grip on my jeans. “Owen Daniels, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”
Taking his hand, she raised her eyebrows at me. “Sadie.”
I clocked her Subaru idling in the parking lot.
“I’ll have that invoice sent over before end of day.” I dismissed him with my voice without really looking at him to do it.
“I’ll be seein’ ya, Ray.” He tipped his hat at me then toward Sadie. “Miss.”
She grinned.
Then I watched his perfect butt until he folded it into his pickup truck.
“What’s the deal with the cowboy?”
“No deal.” My hands fidgeted of their own accord.
“Liar,” Nora said laughing, hiking her purse over her shoulder as she walked our way. I hadn’t even heard her come out of the clinic.
Wednesday was movie night, and Nora always left at five o’clock with Sadie on movie night.
I always worked late on movie night.
Sadie wrapped an arm around Nora’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “What’s this one lying about, No-No?”
“I saw nearly the whole damn thing from the window. That cowboy wants to take her for a ride.” Nora laughed and leaned into her woman. “Or well, maybe he wants you to do the ridin’. I’m not really sure how that works.”
“I don’t date cowboys.”
“Doesn’t seem like he knows that.” Sadie laughed.
“Don’t be workin’ too late, eh?” Nora lightly scolded and I nodded. “The movie ends ‘round eight, so we’ll see you after?”
“That sounds great. Thanks.”
They turned, and I waved at the Subaru as they walked away.
For someone as solitary as me, it was often odd how little I was alone with my thoughts. As I watched my friends settle into their car, I felt my mind drift to denim and Justin boots.
It had been nearly a decade since I thought of a man in those two things, until today.
“YOU’RE A BASTARD, TUCKER. YOU know that?”
“Ah, quit your bitchin’ and pass me the ice.” Branson chuckled.
Standin’ in the bed of my pickup, I tossed the next bag of ice into his chest a little harder than he’d been anticipatin’. Serves him right, not tellin’ me ‘bout the new vet. Lettin’ the girls one-up me like that in front of a pretty lady.
It hadn’t been four days, and the whole family was still seein’ fit to te
ase me about the whole damn thing. That’s the problem with small towns, everybody knows what you been doin’, who you been doin’, and in my case, who turned you down.
In my thirty-one years, I ain’t ever took kindly to bein’ told no. Didn’t matter, though. She’d come ‘round. I’d make damn sure of that.
“You two are making this an all-day job.” London appeared on the porch stairs to the main house lookin’ like she was sweatin’ bullets.
September weather ‘round here wasn’t always this warm. Sometimes we even got snow by now. But with the size she was, this little bit of heat been killin’ her.
“The guests will be here in less than an hour, and I still need the extra chairs set up inside,” she scolded.
Branson and I had been tasked with gettin’ ice for the drink coolers and settin’ ‘em up at the bottom of the stairs, while Dad had drawn the short straw in preppin’ the barbeques. For how much ice and food we got, seemed like the girls invited the whole damn town for Bridge’s baby shower.
A grey convertible pulled in next to Loretta, my truck, with none other than Wells Donahue behind the wheel and my baby sister tucked in next to him.
Aurora climbed out of the passenger seat and triumphantly lifted two bags above her head. “We got the balloons!”
“And the helium tank.” Wells popped the trunk of his car and heaved the tank out.
“Sure you ain’t gonna need help with that?” I said, laughin’ and tossin’ Branson the last bag of ice. “Wouldn’t want you gettin’ that pretty blue shirt of yours dirty, Donahue.”
Branson caught the bag and chuckled.
“Shut up, Tucker,” Aurora griped and glared at us. “I’ve seen your white jeans.”
My eyebrows shot up so fast, I thought they’d knock my hat clean off my head.
“Hey, I got him those jeans!” London whined.
Doublin’ over in laughter, I had to grab the side of the truck bed to keep from fallin’ out.
Wells followed Aurora into the house, London hot on their heels. Wasn’t a typical baby shower we were hostin’ here, seein’ as it wasn’t just the ladies invited but the men too. The girls been callin’ it a His and Hers shower. Didn’t matter what they called it; the men were still gonna be drinkin’ beer in one corner while the girls did silly shit with plastic babies they’d frozen into ice cubes.
