Turn and Burn

by Lorelei James

  “Again?” Tanna said. “Jason is what? A year old?”

  “Fourteen months. I doubt you’re really surprised because Hank and Lainie want a houseful of ranch hands—I mean kids.”

  Tanna walked to the opposite end of the porch, resting her hips against the railing. She gazed across the rolling landscape. No cattle within view, but they grazed in different fields in the summertime. The Lawsons and the Gilchrists had roots here that would carry through another generation.

  There’d been a time when Tanna figured her life would play out the same way. She’d meet a ranching cowboy during her on-the-road travels, fall in love, take him back to the family ranch and set up housekeeping.

  Now she realized her dream had been vague. She hadn’t made a plan for how she’d earn a living beyond barrel racing. Her mystery husband . . . she’d never imagined him having his own life and connections; she’d just expected him to be with her and make her happy.

  For all of her supposed love of the family ranch, she’d never considered what her part would be in it. How that piece of dirt would support three families. She’d created a dream life that had as much basis in reality as Brianna twirling through the field, chasing butterflies and playing princess.

  “Tanna? Are you all right?”

  She spun around. “I’m fine. Just thinking about how quiet it is here.”

  Then Jason shrieked at the top of his lungs.

  “So much for that.” Celia patted the chair beside her. “Come sit. Lainie made iced tea and she even remembered to bring sugar for you.”

  She wandered over, watching Jason dig through a box of toys after abandoning all hope of escape.

  “How’re things goin’ at the Split Rock?”

  “Good. The place does a steady business. Except Sundays are quiet. The clothing store is closed and we rarely have to staff the bar.”

  “What do you do on Sundays?”

  Laze in bed with Fletch as long as possible. “Depends. Why?”

  “Just curious how often you’re goin’ to Eli’s.”

  “If I go, it’s during the week. He keeps Sundays as a day off for him and Summer.”

  “What’s she like?”

  Damaged. Like me. Tanna spooned sugar in the bottom of her glass and poured in tea. “Why’re you asking me? Aren’t you and Eli tight?”

  “We were. Then Kyle and I got married. Since Summer’s come into Eli’s life, the way he’s always wanted her to, he’s been around everyone a lot less.”

  Tanna shrugged. “I guess it happens when you find the one.”

  “Is that why we haven’t seen you? Because you’re with Fletch and he’s the one?”

  The screen door opened and Lainie strolled out, hand on her stomach. “I guess I won’t be eating yogurt again for a while. Bleh.”

  Brianna skipped up the sidewalk and climbed over the baby gate. “Mama, can I—”

  “Bri, sweetie, don’t do that. I don’t want Jason trying it.”

  Brianna’s face was damp with sweat, making her freckles more pronounced. Her pink unicorn shirt bore the imprint of two muddy handprints. She had bug bites on her skinny legs and she wore only one sock. Her deep blue eyes lit up when she spied her little brother smashing plastic trucks together beneath the porch swing. She immediately joined him and dumped the remaining toys out of the box.

  Tanna could so identify with the tomboyish spitfire. And the way she bossed her little brother around. She hadn’t heard from Garrett since that last phone call and that worried her.

  “So what did I miss?” Lainie asked.

  “Tanna was about to tell all about her and Fletch,” Celia said slyly.

  “No, I wasn’t. We’re . . . hanging out while I’m here. That’s it.”

  “But he’s still staying up at the Split Rock?”

  “No. He’s back in Rawlins as of today, actually.”

  “What happens now?”

  “He’ll be busy with his practice.”

  Celia rolled her eyes. “No. I mean what happens between you guys now?”

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  “That’s it? That’s all the juicy insider stuff we get?”

  “What else do you want to know?” She dropped her voice. “Yes, he absolutely rocks my world in bed. Happy now?”

  Lainie and Celia looked at each other and laughed.

  “What?”

  “Oh, you’ve got it bad for Fletch if you don’t wanna give us explicit details.”

  Tanna bared her teeth. “Or maybe I’ve just grown up and no longer need to brag about everything and everyone I’ve done.”

  “Or maybe Fletch is the one and you don’t want to admit it to us, let alone yourself.”

  “I stopped believing in, and looking for, the one a long time ago.” Such a liar, Tanna.

  Celia pushed to her feet. “That tea ran right through me.”

  After she waddled into the house, Lainie leaned over. “You don’t have to tell us everything. You don’t have to be upbeat, wild child Tanna around me all the time either, okay? I’ve had darkness in my life, if you’ll recall.”

  “Which is why I’m so thrilled to see you living the dream with your hunky hubby, your beautiful two-point-one kids in this bucolic place. I’ve missed you. And it’s been . . . I won’t say good for me to learn to deal with this stuff on my own, but it’s been necessary.” She blew out a breath. “So can you please steer the conversation away from horses and Fletch? Celia’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to this stuff.”

  “Only because she cares about you as much as I do.” Again Lainie looked at her and seemed to look through her. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Tanna nodded, but didn’t say anything further.

  “I can see by the look on your face you haven’t told him.”

  “There’s too much up in the air for both of us right now.”

  “I understand.” Lainie squeezed her hand. “But all this that you see? The hunky hubby, the beautiful two-point-one kids and a home in this bucolic place . . . you deserve that too. So does Fletch.”

  “I know. But what if I’m not the one who can give it to him?”

  The door squeaked and Celia lumbered into view. “Hey, what are you two whispering about over there?”

  Lainie gave her a haughty look. “A pregnant woman shouldn’t be asking questions, lest she ruin a possible surprise.”

  She groaned. “Not another surprise shower. I still haven’t lived down the last one.” She jabbed her finger at Tanna. “I never did get even with you for the basket of vibrators.”

  Tanna laughed.

  “My mom is the shower queen,” Lainie said.

  “She did throw a great bash in California for Brianna. I was glad I got to come. No issues from your mom about you naming your son after your late father?”

  “None. She was actually pleased. It helps that Jason looks nothing like me or my dad.” She shot a fond look at her son. “With the exception of those curls.”

  Tanna looked at Celia. “What baby names are the front-runners in the Gilchrist household?”

  “Since we don’t know the sex, we’ve picked a couple.” She scowled. “Kyle nixed Marshall; I thought it would be nice closure to name the baby after his grandfather.”

  “I think you’re having a girl,” Lainie said. “So Marshall definitely won’t work.”

  “So how about . . . Jasmine?” Tanna suggested.

  “Stripper name,” Celia said.

  “Mallory?”

  “Too stuffy.”

  “Gillian?”

  “Ugh. Gillian Gilchrist? No. Poor kid. First letter of her first name and first letter of her last name both start with G but it isn’t pronounced the same? And it always looks like Gilligan to me.”

  “I’m thinking Skipper would be awesome for a boy or a girl,” Tanna said.

  Celia laughed. “We watch entirely too much classic TV. But I can promise you, we won’t be saddling the poor kid with a weird name like some
people I know.” She and Lainie exchanged a look.

  “What?”

  “Our neighbors? Josh and Ronna? They named their little girl Style.”

  “Style? As in . . . doggie style?”

  “Only you would think of that, Tanna.”

  “What? You didn’t?”

  “No. I thought of freestyle, no style, bad style and hairstyle.”

  “I can guarantee the kids on the playground will have thought of it.”

  “True.”

  “Besides, I have the perfect name for a girl,” Tanna said smugly.

  “Spill it.”

  “Kyla.”

  “Oh, my husband will love that one. What else you got?”

  “Cecil for a boy.”

  For the next few hours as they discussed baby names and gossiped about former rodeo friends, Tanna was happy to let the decisions of the real world fade away.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  First thing Fletch did Monday morning before he headed out of town was stop by Jet Eriksen’s office to pick up copies of client paperwork he’d handled during Fletch’s sabbatical.

  The parking lot of Jet’s veterinary office was empty at seven a.m., but Fletch knew he’d be in the office working. He entered through the side door, yelling “knock, knock” before venturing down the hallway.

  Jet grinned at him from behind a massive desk. “Fletch! Good to see you, man. There’s coffee in the break room. Help yourself.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” After he filled a mug, he wandered back to Jet’s office and sat on the stool by the window. “Thanks for filling in for me. Although since Cora set it up, I’m not sure which weeks you took.”

  “The first two. Arguably the hardest two because none of your clients wanted to hear you were unavailable. One guy, Les somebody, argued with me for fifteen minutes about your dedication to animals and how you never took time off.” Jet sipped his coffee. “Which I happily pointed out was exactly the reason you deserved time off.”

  Fletch laughed. “So, besides grumpy Les, you have any issues?”

  “Only the fact you work so hard all the time, with nothing less than total dedication, that you make the rest of us look like slackers.”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard that a time or twenty.”

  A pause ensued. Then Jet said, “Fletch. How old are you?”

  “I’ll be thirty-seven in a few months. Why?”

  “You’ve been in business for yourself how long?”

  “Almost a decade.” He sipped his coffee. “Again, why?”

  Jet leaned forward. “I’ll cut to the chase. There’s plenty of business for all of us in this area, since our ‘area’ covers well over three hundred miles. I just wondered if you’d ever considered taking on a partner.”

  That was completely unexpected. Jet Eriksen was a decade older and had been running a successful solo practice since before Fletch had started out. They were friendly colleagues who consulted each other when needed. “All right. Where the hell did that come from?”

  “Due to a screwup with the answering service, Arnie, Tasha and I got called to the same emergency. Once we had it handled, the three of us ended up having coffee and realized we’re all suffering from being overextended in our practices, despite that we’re all at different stages in our lives and careers. Arnie’s looking to retire in about ten years and Tasha is still fresh enough out of vet school she’s retained that dewy-eyed optimism. I think that’s something neither of us has seen for a few years.”

  “True.”

  “So, strictly between us, we’re kicking around the idea of going into practice together. If you were interested, we could rotate the weekends so we wouldn’t all have to be on call, but we could rotate in one weekend a month. Granted, that’d change during calving or other busy times, but I gotta admit, losing some of those late nights has a huge appeal for me.”

  “Me too,” Fletch admitted. “I’m listening.”

  Jet grinned. “Thought you might be interested. The biggest up-front expense would be combining all our practices into one location. That way all the billing issues, supply stores, equipment and surgical areas would be shared equally. There’d be a minimum buy in, split four ways. We could share staff, which would be good for you and Tasha since you’re both working solo. Arnie and I each have two vet assistants, which frankly, aren’t necessary but would be for four docs.”

  “Arnie and Tasha are in fully?”

  “Arnie is. He wants to share his load since he’s closest to retirement. Tasha is pregnant with her first kid and she’s worried about the long hours for the short term. She’d like to talk to you before making a decision. She’s a good surgeon, one of the best I’ve seen, so if she could stay focused on that until she delivers, one of us could deal with the physical demands of this job. She’s happy about the pregnancy, but worried about the limitations it will impose in her practice, so I have no qualms that we wouldn’t always be doing the heavy lifting for her; know what I mean?”

  “I do. That’s probably the reason I didn’t go into practice with old Doc Sharpe after I interned with him. I figured he’d slave me, dangle that partner status and when it came time to retire, he’d close down instead of selling.” Fletch flashed his teeth. “Which is exactly what happened, by the way.”

  “I felt sorry for that kid who’d worked for him a few years and ended up with nothing.” Jet tapped his pencil on his desk blotter. “So I can tell Arnie you’re interested?”

  Fletch had sworn he wouldn’t say no if an opportunity presented itself. Was this the right one? Maybe. He wouldn’t jump in without more details and assurances. “Sure. I’ll talk to him and Tasha.”

  Not what Jet wanted to hear, but he masked his disappointment quickly. “How was your time off?”

  “Great. I’ve never taken time off. Too scared to, I guess. Figured I’d lose my clients to you or something.”

  Jet chuckled.

  “So it was a shock to me to realize I liked having a life away from my practice. It showed me I didn’t have a life outside my practice and I needed to change that.”

  “We want to give you the opportunity. And I know I sprang this on you first thing after a long vacation, but it’s something we’ve been discussing for almost a month.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Really?”

  “Don’t know that all of us have ever been in a room together when we weren’t tossing out diagnoses. We clicked that night and everything we’ve come up with since makes good business sense. We’ve set up a tentative meeting a week from Saturday night at the Cattleman’s Club. I’ll warn you it’ll be more involved than a discussion over dinner. I suspect it’ll go on for a few hours. We’re serious about getting this under way. And if we come to an agreement it will impact you—either way.”

  “Because your operation would have a lock on large animal care for three hundred miles.”

  “Animal care wouldn’t suffer under a merger of four practices. In fact, it’d improve being more streamlined. Plus, the fees would be standard. And no offense, Fletch, but you aren’t charging enough for your ranch calls. Trust me, with the near worship I’ve seen from your clients, they won’t balk at a price increase. Regardless if you join with us or not.”

  Fletch stood. “I appreciate the information and the invite. I’ll give it serious consideration before we meet.”

  “This stays between us,” Jet warned. “Until we’re ready to go ahead, we’re not mentioning it to our spouses.”

  “That’ll be easy for me, since I don’t have a spouse,” he joked.

  “You come into practice with us, you’ll have time to go looking for a wife.” He laughed. “And with that . . . all visits, case histories, are on a thumb drive in a priority envelope on my receptionist’s desk.”

  “Thanks.” Fletch fought a groan. Cora hated dealing with technology. She was an old-school office manager, which meant paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork.

  If you joined their practice, your records would be mo
re manageable.

  Records, heck. His life would be more manageable. He hated that he couldn’t discuss this opportunity with anyone. Normally he’d pick his dad’s brain. But since he’d gotten involved with Cora, he might have a different slant on it.

  Back at his office that night, he turned on his computer and scrolled through his schedule. The way it looked, he’d definitely be playing catch-up all damn week.