Turn and Burn

by Lorelei James

  “In that time I’ve asked for a week off here and there. I appreciate the extra paid time off at Christmas. But the truth is, I’ve wanted to take an extended vacation for quite a while.”

  “You should’ve said something—”

  “Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done and I will have my full say before you get to jump in, Doc.”

  “Fine. Go on.”

  “Even when I take time off, you do not. Not one time in nine years. You have all the calls transferred to your cell phone, so when I’m not in the office it’s actually twice as much work for you.”

  “That’s part of the gig since I own my own business.” Why was she telling him something he already knew? “Besides, I’m not the vacationing type.”

  She stabbed her bony finger at him. “How can you know you’re not the vacationing type if you’ve never tried it?”

  He’d started to get a bad feeling about this discussion, beyond the fear she might be handing in her resignation. “You do have a point to all this nagging, right?”

  Rather than skewering him with a haughty look at his snappish response, she laughed. It sounded a little mean, which scared him, quite frankly. “I wish I was going to be around to see how you handle it, Dr. Smarty-pants.”

  “Handle what?”

  “Your vacation.”

  Had he somehow missed the signs that she’d started going senile? “Cora. You’re confused. I’m not taking a vacation.”

  Cora crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, yes, you are. Remember a few weeks back when I brought up my vacation request form and you told me to do whatever I wanted? I did.”

  “What? I never said that!”

  “Hah! You did so and I have the recording on my iPhone if you’d like to hear it.”

  Shit.

  “I filled out the vacation request and told you to read it. Several times. I can tell by the blank expression on your face you didn’t bother—even when you assured me on several occasions when I’ve specifically asked, that you had indeed read the document.”

  Fletch nervously ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll admit I didn’t read it. But I didn’t need to, because you’ve always scheduled your time off over a summer holiday so you can maximize the vacation days. And you take a few nonpaid days. I’m good with that.”

  Her lips stretched into a smile. “Excellent. Because I’m taking a few more nonpaid days than I usually do.”

  “How many?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “What?”

  “On Wednesday I’m leaving on a six-week trip to Europe. And while I set up my time off, I cleared your schedule for six weeks. The mail has been stopped. The bills have been paid. The standard medical deliveries have been suspended. The answering service has been switched over. Dr. Arneson, Dr. Anderson and Dr. Eriksen are covering your calls. All your calls. I didn’t see a need to put out a memo to your clients that you’ll be on vacation because we both know they’d try to contact you at home.”

  “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.

&
nbsp; 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