by Stasia Black
Maybe everything had been fated before it even happened. Written down in some book in the sky, predetermined. So even if he could go back in time, nothing would have turned out any different.
Some days that thought comforted him.
Others it tortured him.
But Isobel was just shaking her head, eyes haunted. “If I hadn’t been so stubborn, insisting we get Beauty to the hospital right that second—”
“Stop it.” His voice was sharp. “There are no what ifs. There’s just now. And we’re both here now.”
She stilled and he noticed her clenched fists loosen. She took a deep breath in. Was she letting go of her guilt? He hoped so. It was no way to live. He should know.
Her eyes dropped half-closed and she turned her head slightly, nuzzling her cheek into his hand as if without thinking about it.
This woman.
Fuck. Did she know what she did to him? And not just below the belt. Her sweetness. Her sassiness. Her intelligence. He’d never met anyone like her.
“I was so scared,” she whispered. Her breath was hot on his palms. Her lips so close to his skin.
She was so beautiful. Delicate but strong. A winter rose, like his mom used to grow. His chest filled. He felt… She was just…
Her eyes widened suddenly and she jerked back from him. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” She dropped her eyes as she stepped out of the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
As soon as she closed the door, the pain that he’d been briefly distracted from made itself known again. He didn’t bother hiding his grimace since Isobel couldn’t see him now.
He turned his back toward the mirror and looked over his shoulder. He tried lifting up the back of his shirt to check out the damage, but twisting his arm like that hurt like hell so he quickly gave up. All he could see was the edge of a bandage anyway.
He went to the commode and quickly relieved his bladder. Then washed his hands and went back out to Isobel. She was making the bed. Unnecessary, since the maids would only strip it to wash everything once they left. Just habit or was she so uncomfortable around him she needed something to keep her hands busy?
“How long was I asleep?”
“You slept through the night.” She punched a pillow to fluff it. “It’s 7:30.”
“Did you sleep?” Now that he was a little more awake, he noticed slight shadows under her eyes.
She waved a hand like it wasn’t important. “Are you hungry?” She pulled the comforter over the bed and then smoothed out all the wrinkles.
He didn’t miss how she immediately turned the questions back to him. But now that she mentioned it, he was starving. He hadn’t eaten since before lunch yesterday.
“There’s a Denny’s next door,” she continued. “I can go get you something and bring it back over—”
“How’s the mare?” He felt bad for just now thinking of it, but he was a little slow on the pick up this morning.
Isobel’s eyes opened wide at his question. Then she immediately jogged to her purse by the door. She quickly reached inside and rooted around for a moment before coming out with his phone. “They said they’d call this morning but I turned the ringer off so it wouldn’t disturb you sleeping.”
She walked back toward him, touching the screen. “Sorry, I had to use your phone. I didn’t think to grab mine when we—”
She froze in her tracks. “Oh. Crap.”
“What?” Hunter took a step toward her at the alarm on her face.
“Your mom has been calling. A lot.” She looked up at him apologetically, then hurried over to hand him the phone. He hobbled toward her, meeting her halfway. He was getting better at this walking thing. It hurt, but not as much as it had when he got up. No doubt the Vicodin was starting to work.
Still, when he got the phone from Isobel, he leaned against the wall. He looked down at the screen. Shit. There were twenty-nine missed calls from Mom. A bunch of missed calls from other numbers too. He immediately dialed his mom back.
“Hunter?” Her frantic voice answered the line after the second ring.
“Mom, it’s me.”
“Oh thank God. Tom,” she yelled his dad’s name, not bothering to pull the phone away from her mouth, “it’s Hunter.”
“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t—”
“Hunter Thomas Dawkins, are you trying to kill your father?” His mother’s voice was irate. “You know he has a bad heart! We got a call last night from the hospital saying you were in surgery. Then nothing, for hours. We called and called, worried out of our minds. Then when they finally had something to tell us, it’s only that you were out of surgery but that you’d disappeared! You didn’t check yourself out. You were just gone!”
Hunter winced and held the phone away from his ear for a second as she continued her tirade. When he finally bit the bullet and put it back to his ear, she was midsentence.
“—to mention everyone’s been calling the house all night long looking for you. I couldn’t even take the phone off the hook because we were hoping you’d finally remember your poor mother and father. If you weren’t dead in a ditch, that was. Do you have any idea—”
“Why were people calling the house?” Did the whole town know about his little hospital disappearing act? Jesus, that meant the town gossip train would be talking about it for—
“Well what did you think people were going to do when they weren’t getting a response from the emergency clinic line? Mollie Sanders wouldn’t stop moaning about her precious corgi who had mala-something-hooey stress because of the storm.”
“Maladaptive stress response,” Hunter corrected automatically. A fancy term that meant the dog was afraid of storms. Mrs. Sanders was sure it was a life-threatening condition that would shorten her beloved corgi’s life. She called Hunter without fail every time there was so much as a distant rumble of thunder.
“Then Bill Sawyers kept going on and on about his prize heifer having trouble calving. I’m trying to tell them I don’t even know if my son is safe, don’t come crying to me about an animal!”
“Why didn’t they just call Dr. Roberts?” Hunter asked.
His mom let out a huff. “I guess he reinjured his hip when he tried to help Bill with that damn heifer.”
Wow. His mom must be really worked up if she was swearing.
He softened his voice. “I’m fine, Mom. Really.” He ignored the biting pain in his back as he shifted his weight to his other foot. “I’m sorry I scared you guys. It wasn’t surgery, just some stitches. I didn’t realize the hospital had called you.”
“Well they still had us as your emergency contact number on file from when you had your appendectomy there when you were seventeen.”
Hunter smiled, shaking his head. And of course his parents still had the same number a decade and a half later.
“I’m sorry, Mama. I hate that I worried you.” He was, too. After Dad’s heart attack seven years ago and then everything with Janine… well, Mom had had too much to worry about for too long. He hated adding to her burdens.
A heavy sigh came across the line. He heard tears in her voice when she next spoke and it about killed him. “We can’t lose you. I feel like we’ve just got you back after…”
Hunter swallowed. “Don’t cry, Mama. You know I can’t handle that.”
She sniffed loudly. “Who’s crying? I’m not crying.”
There was a brief pause and Hunter imagined her wiping her eyes with one of the kitchen towels. Her voice was strong and no nonsense when she continued. “Now tell me about this new woman of yours. Everyone’s been seeing you around town together but you don’t bring her to meet your own mother? What kind of son did I raise?”
“Mom.” He felt the back of his neck heating up. “It’s just a work thing.” His gaze flipped over to Isobel, who wasn’t bothering to hide the fact that she was following his half of the conversation with rapt attention. He was not about to discuss his complicated relationship to his
summer intern with her in earshot.
“I gotta go, Mama. But I’m fine and I’ll call you back later today when I get home. It might be late since I’ll be out taking care of all these calls.”
He was already looking Isobel’s direction and he saw her eyebrows pop up in surprise at his words.
“You do what you gotta do. Just be safe, baby. And if I call you again, you better answer! Or call back within an hour if you’re somewhere without any reception. You promise me.” Her voice was hard but he heard the thread of fear and desperation underneath. He felt horrible thinking about the sleepless night she’d just spent because of him.
“Promise.”
“All right. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mama.”
She hung up without lingering. That was his mom. She was a marshmallow underneath, but you’d never know it for her mama bear fierceness. All she’d ever wanted in life was a big family she could love on. Instead she got his quiet, taciturn father for a husband and, after several miscarriages, him. Just one son to lavish all the love she had to give.
And life as an isolated rancher’s wife wasn’t an easy one—not that he’d ever thought about it growing up. He’d taken her for granted. Taken all of it for granted. It was only when his dad had the heart attack that he’d realized how much his mom needed him around.
How could he, her only son, desert her by moving away to the big city like Janine kept pressuring him to do when his Mom had given up everything for him?
Suffice to say, she and Janine had never gotten along.
“What did you mean by ‘take care of these calls’?” Isobel asked as soon as he got off the phone.
“Just what it sounded like.” Hunter tapped the phone to access his voicemails and put them on speaker phone while he walked over to the nightstand.
A robotic voice read out the time the voicemail was left: 8:19 pm.
Hey Hunter, this is Ken Peterson. I’m having some trouble with one of my mares. She got riled up by the storm and smashed herself real good on the fencing—
Isobel had brought in his spare change of clothes from the truck. They were folded on the bedside table. He picked up the button up denim work shirt and shook it open.
Grimacing, he tried to shrug into it. The pain was a lot less sharp than it had been twenty minutes ago but damn, that still smarted.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Isobel asked over Ken’s voice talking about the cut on his horse’s flank. “You need to lay back down. Right now.” She stalked over toward him and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him toward the bed.
So anyway, if you could call me back and come on over. It’s a nasty gash, bleeding all over the place and I don’t want it to get infected. I’m hoping to get her bred in a few— The recording cut off, running out of time on Ken.
There was a beep and then the next message started.
8:33 pm. Bill Sawyers here. Need help with Blue’s calving. She’s one of my best Angus. Expect your call back within the hour.
Beep.
Hunter grimaced and this time, it wasn’t from the pain in his back. Whatever had happened with Blue was over and done with now, more than twelve hours later.
He sighed and sat down on the bed.
“Good,” Isobel said, relief clear in her voice. “Now lay down and I’ll go get you some food.”
Hunter reached for his work boots that Isobel had set beside the bed.
“Hunter!”
Isobel started to snatch the boots away from him but he jerked them back, grunting at the pain the move caused.
Isobel’s hands immediately flew up and she stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
Hunter gritted his teeth as he leaned over and slid his foot into the boot. Aw fuck, aw fuck, aw fuuuuuuuck, bending over like this was hell on his back wounds. He reached for the laces to tie them even though his breaths started coming short as he fought to breathe through the pain.
“Stop it! You’re hurting yourself.”
She dropped to the floor and knocked his hands away. She didn’t pull the boot off, though. She just took over tying them. He breathed out in relief and sat up straight. So much better when he wasn’t bent over.
She reached for his other foot and helped him slide it into the other boot. Then her fingers were tightening and pulling the laces. She yanked them extra tight. When he glanced down at her, her mouth was in a taut line.
Clearly, she wasn’t happy. But goddamn she was beautiful. And her crouched down in front of him, just like last night, Christ, it was making his dick hard. The memory was fuzzy around the edges, but he’d swear the hardest orgasm of his entire goddamned life was no dream. But how could she act so nonchalant like nothing had happened.
“The animals don’t take a day off,” he said. “Ever. This is the job.”
She jerked her head to look up at him, the sharp movement displacing some hair that had fallen over her neck. And revealing the hickie beneath. Right at the base of her neck where it met her shoulder.
His nostrils flared. He knew it wasn’t a dream.
“You think you can pull a calf in your condition?” she asked, eyes flashing. “Hunter, you can’t even tie your own shoes. You’re not going to be any help to anybody until you get the rest you need so you can heal.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to bite back that she was singing a different tune last night when she was roughly shoving his face into her pussy.
But dammit, she was right. This morning he could barely walk. The magic combo of whatever they’d given him at the hospital plus Vicodin that had let him enjoy last night’s activities without too much pain was long gone. The Vicodin alone was enough to curb the sharpest edge of it, but the truth was, he was gritting his teeth against the pain this very second.
And the thought of farm calls sounded like torture. That didn’t mean there was any getting out of them. Isobel would have to drive, of course. And it was true, most of the practical realities of being a large animal vet were physical. It was why Dr. Roberts didn’t usually do farm calls at his age.
But Hunter had something Dr. Roberts didn’t. He had Isobel.
Isobel got back to her feet after finishing with his laces and she looked at him in alarm. “Why are you smiling at me like that.”
“Do you trust me?”
Her whole body jolted at the words and her eyes cut to him, slightly widening.
It was the same thing she’d asked him last night.
Would she say something now? Acknowledge what was between them?
But she only nodded, eyes fastened on him.
Fine. She still wanted to keep running?
He supposed the real question was whether or not he was up for the chase. Was he willing to risk it all again for love?
He managed to keep his voice even as he said, “Well today’s the day you get to jump in feet first, Dr. Isobel. You’ll be the primary vet and I’ll just be backup.”
Her posture relaxed. She smiled but then quickly looked away like she was still gun-shy after the question about trust.
Should he risk his heart on such a skittish woman?
His knee-jerk reaction was no. Never again. But he had a feeling that where Isobel Snow was concerned, he might already be a goner.
Chapter 19
ISOBEL
A week and a half later, Isobel was still doing most of the heavy lifting on the farm calls, though Hunter came out with her for most of them in case there were any dicey situations. That first day had been the worst—mostly because Hunter insisted on coming even though she could see the strain on his face with every step he took.
He looked so pale he might pass out by the fifth farm they’d stopped at. She’d taken him home right after, then gone by herself to handle the last couple more routine calls.
And she had. Incredibly. It turned out there might be one thing in life she wasn’t useless at after all. Suck on that, Catrina.
If only she knew what to do about Hunter.
That
night between them at the hotel had been… well, she’d say unforgettable, but apparently Hunter had completely forgotten it.
That wasn’t fair. He’d been doped up all to hell. But that wasn’t the worst part.
While it had been happening, had it been her he was having sex with, or his ex? That was the question that plagued her. She’d been so certain that night he’d been thinking of his ex. But on the endless replay of the night, remembering how he’d looked her in the eyes and how present he’d seemed…
Then again, he couldn’t recall a goddamned moment of it, so how present could he have really been?
Ugh, she was going to drive herself crazy. She’d been snippy all week because of it. She’d overheard Liam whispering that she must be on the rag. It was a testament to her newfound self-control that she hadn’t crossed the room and smacked him upside the head.
If anyone was getting the brunt of her bad mood, though, it was Hunter. But how could she look at him and not hear his words in the back of her head? Love you, babe. Which may or may not have been directed at her.
She shook her head as she approached the next cow in the field. She had some truly thrilling work today. TB testing cattle. Woo hoo. There hadn’t been a case of TB in Wyoming for over twenty years.
Isobel was just flipping up the second cow’s skirt—i.e., their tail—to make the injection when she heard shouting from over at the fence line.
Hunter was waving his arms at her and yelling something. She couldn’t make out what. The fastest way into the field had just been to climb through the wooden fence so Hunter had stayed on the sidelines since he was still pretty stiff.
“What?” she shouted back at him, moving a few steps away from the cow. “I can’t hear you!”
He used his hands to make a little speaker around his mouth and yelled again, over and over. B something?
“Ball?” she yelled back.
A movement from the left caught her attention and her heart dropped to her feet as she finally understood exactly what Hunter was screaming about.