The Rancher and the Vet. Julie Benson
I’ve been pushed about as far as a man can be. You’re taking your life in your hands, laughing.” The minute he started speaking the dog growled. Reed glared at the bag. “And you better be nice to me after the bomb you dropped on my bed.”
“He didn’t.”
“He sure as hell did, and all over the wooden floors.”
The absolute horror on his face made her laugh harder. “I’m sorry. Really I am.” She giggled one last time thinking of his reaction when he’d found his bed. It was amazing the dog was alive.
“It’s funny to you because it wasn’t your bed.”
“Bring him in.” She stepped aside for him to enter, and Reed’s musky cologne tickled her senses. As he handed her the sack, she remembered how his scent clung to her clothes after they’d been necking, which led to images of the two of them together and a sudden spike in her heart rate.
Stop it. Trips down nostalgia lane led nowhere but back. She was all about moving forward with her life, and hoped she’d find someone who wanted the same things she did—a loving marriage and raising their children in the same town where she’d grown up. Something that Reed never would do.
“After I examine Thor, I’ll let you know what’s going on.” For a minute she stood there, the silence between them shouting volumes.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you expect me to say. I wasn’t the one who ended things between us.”
She’d told herself she’d gotten over him. But until she’d seen Reed in the barn the other day, she hadn’t realized how much anger she still carried. They’d made love the first and only time the July after graduation. She’d loved him so much, wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, and then the relationship was over.
“We’d talked about our future so much, and never once did you mention the fact that you didn’t want children. How could you have left out that important detail?” Giving voice to her anger and throwing the words in his face felt good. Closure. She finally had what she’d never known she craved.
“I don’t know what to say other than I was young. When I got to college, I started thinking about what us having a future meant in practical terms, and it hit me.”
“You gave me a promise ring, and then you never came back.”
“I couldn’t. Once I got away, I felt free. I didn’t want to lose that, but you’re right. I should’ve called you.”
But it had been worse than that. She’d left messages begging for him to talk to her. Ones that he’d never returned.
Let it go.
“I was an ass, and I’m sorry I hurt you.” He stepped toward her, then froze, as if he wasn’t sure of what to do next. “Can we start over with a clean slate? Be friends?”
Friends? The word shouldn’t have stung her pride, but it did.
Avery nodded. That would make things easier when they ran into each other, and in a town of less than ten thousand people, their paths would cross. “I’ll call you when I know what’s going on with Thor.”
Dismissing Reed, Avery reached into the sack, lifted Thor out and snuggled with him for a minute. She waited for the sound of the door opening and closing as Reed left, but after a moment she glanced over her shoulder, finding him still standing there. “Is there something else you need?”
A familiar look flashed in his cobalt eyes as his gaze locked with hers. Her heart fluttered. Was he thinking the same thing she was? How much they’d once thought they needed each other?
“Jess will be worried when I tell her about Thor. Can I bring her by after school?”
“Absolutely. Chances are it’s nothing serious, and he’ll probably be ready to go home by then.”
Reed nodded and then turned and walked out of the exam room. When she’d said they could start over, she’d thought doing so would make things easier. Then she’d asked him if he needed anything else, and now she wasn’t so sure. The look she’d glimpsed in his eyes moments earlier was the same one she’d seen years ago, right before he kissed her.
* * *
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, as Reed sat in the pickup lane at Jess’s school, his thoughts returned to Avery. He was thankful that they’d cleared the air. In a town the size of Estes Park, they’d run into each other. Now maybe things wouldn’t be as awkward.
Who was he kidding? Things would still be awkward. Everything he’d loved about Avery—her giving spirit, her quiet strength, her down-to-earth nature—was still there, but there was something more now. Something more refined. Her appeal had heightened over the years. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and yet she seemed unaware of the fact.
The truck’s passenger door opened, a red backpack flew behind the seat. Jess slid in, the leather seat squeaking with her movements. He tossed out the obligatory “How was your day?” and she responded with the typical teenage response of “Fine.”
“I took Thor to the vet. He wasn’t feeling well. I came home to messes all over the house.”
Her eyes widened, and her lip quivered. “What’s wrong? Is he okay? What did Dr. McAlister say? Is he home?”
The more questions Jess asked, the higher her voice rose. He rushed to reassure her. “Avery—Dr. McAlister—said it probably wasn’t serious, but she was going to run some tests. I said we’d stop by after school to check on him.”
Minutes later, at the shelter, Avery walked into the exam room, Thor snuggled in her arms. Jess raced toward them.
“We gave this guy some fluids because he was a little dehydrated, but that’s nothing to worry about, Jess,” Avery commented in a soothing tone as she placed Thor on the metal table. “I ran some tests, but didn’t find anything.”
“Then why’d he get sick?”
Avery shrugged. “He might have eaten a plant or something outside that upset his system. Who knows. To help with the diarrhea I want you to give him some medicine once a day. The front desk will give you the dosage information when you check out.”
Reed bit his lip to keep from saying he’d told Jess she shouldn’t have given her dog the chicken last night, but he did toss a knowing glance in her direction.
“Let me show you both how to give Thor the medicine.” Avery reached into her scrub-top pocket and pulled out a plastic syringe filled with the pink liquid. When Reed remained nailed to his seat, both she and Jess turned to him. “I can see fine from here. I’m responsible for Jess. She’s responsible for the dog. That’s the chain of command.”
Jess shook her head and faced Avery. “He doesn’t like Thor.”
“The dog doesn’t like me,” Reed countered. As if to prove the point, Thor peered around Jess, glared at Reed and growled. “See.”
“That’s actually natural. Chihuahuas bond strongly with their owners and tend to distrust people they don’t know. Isn’t that right, Thor?”
Reed frowned. The danged mutt wagged his tail. But then, what male wouldn’t be hypnotized into submission receiving Avery’s full attention?
“Thor doesn’t understand why Colt is gone and you’re here,” Avery continued. “That adds to his uncertainty, but Jess can help him accept you.”
Acceptance? All he wanted was the dog to stay out of his way, and do his business outside. He could live with distant disdain.
Avery glanced between Reed and his niece. “Jess, would you go to the front desk and get some dog treats so we can work with Thor?”
When