by Susan Arden
“That might not be possible.”
“It had better be possible. I don’t care what it costs. I don’t care who you consult. Just do it. I hired you to get me answers, now I need you to do your job like a professional. Someone who won’t stand by when animals are dying.”
Matt’s words struck her harder than any hoof stomp ever had. Brutal and forceful, the conversation cut through her waffling. He brought her here to do a job, first and foremost. They both wanted more, but that was beyond this office. As a professional, he was calling her to do whatever was required and that included stepping up to the plate as a professional. A woman who could stand on her own two feet. It had been a mistake to admit that she’d had a contractual problem with Haverty. Now Matt’s perception was tainted. Time was closing in on them.
If there was a resource, it was her duty to find and use it for her client’s benefit. Dying cattle and a ranch’s reputation were more important than any pride, false or otherwise. Carolina typed veterinarian pathologists into the search engine and hit enter. Of course, not only did Dr. Jeffrey Haverty appear at the top of Google—the man bought in big when it came to advertising. And being part of a university meant Jeff published far and wide in journals. He was quoted for pages and pages on each search engine.
Matt watched her. “Well?”
“Just checking. I’m making a professional call. We don’t have a choice,” she murmured, dialing Jeff’s number from memory. Never say never.
“Well, strike me down. Gracious Lord, but I was just thinking about you,” it sounded as if Jeff were speaking in a Texas drawl. No, it had to be a coincidence.
“Hello, Dr. Haverty.” Carolina’s stomach pitched and rolled, forging forward to establish this was not a social call as Matt took a seat across from the desk.
“What do I owe this pleasure to?” Jeff chuckled arrogantly. “God, I knew you’d call. What’s it been, fifteen days?”
His self-absorption knew no bounds.
Clenching her jaw, she spoke between her gritted teeth, “Jeff, this call is professional, straight down the line. I’ve got a client who could use your help.”
“Of course you do. We’re the perfect team. Seriously, I’ve missed you, mi corazón.”
She was not ‘his heart’ and told Jeff point blank, “Let’s check the baggage. You’re one of the best VMD pathologists according to you and your Google ad. I’m calling for your opinion. Not a favor. Are you available or not?”
Matt’s expression darkened and he frowned at her. In two seconds, he was about to ask her what the hell kind of rap was that to get help on a genetic cattle problem.
“When you talk like that, how can I resist?” Jeff purred.
She had to bite back a retort. “I need you to look over some genetically detailed lab analysis. Do you have time or can you recommend an associate? I need answers ASAP. This one can’t sit around and wait. We’re talking fifteen hundred head of cattle, a commercial ranch.”
“Sounds important. I was working on a project, but for you, I’ll switch gears.” He went from jerk to professional vet. Probably his ego got the better of him. But then again, if he was true to form, he’d switch back to jerk without notice.
Not wanting to waste time, Carolina said, “I’ll send over the reports. We’re looking at a bovine respiratory disease. Cattle keep dying and I think there’s something up with the breeding. None of the cows appear to weaken over time. It just hits them. There’s no physical components prior to onset of illness that would indicate any of the cows should expire. Then there’s the coincidence that only two stock lines are prone to this disease. Before I can make a final recommendation, I need to pinpoint the specific reason behind the breeding combination. Are there others in danger? If so, this ranch and others like it, might continue with past breeding practices.”
“Why would breeders continue to breed animals that are subject to mortal illness?”
“It isn’t done on purpose. It was a fluke. These cattle bring in top dollar but the sto—” She stopped short of saying the stock line was tainted. “These are prime cattle and breeding has been exclusive. The ranch isn’t exactly losing money, but there’s a reputation to protect.”
“Send me the reports. I’m actually en route with a layover in Chicago. I’ll take a look and get back with you. I’m at the same email address.”
“I’m sending them right now. We need them by five. Today, Jeff, even if there’s an upcharge,” she said, emphasizing the deadline.
“No prob,” he replied. “No matter what you think, you still turn me on. I don’t mind house calls, princess.”
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jerk. No surprise.
Feeling her face heat, even her ears felt hot, Carolina snapped, “Jeff, I’ll send you the lab sampling analysis. Please issue an expedited report and send me your bill. I appreciate your time.”
She already had her email up and she typed in Jeff’s name at the University of Miami. She uploaded the lab files and gave him instructions on where to send his digital and hardcopy reports.
Her finger hovered over the mouse. All she had to do was click and send. She hated the thought of reconnecting with Jeff. The award for biggest idiot was hers alone. She’d been stupid to put off locating another pathologist as a resource just in case. Now she had no one in the wings to help her when it mattered most. It was either Evermore Ranch or her pride, and Matt needed her help as a client.
She clicked the “send” icon.
Matt was glaring at her.
“I sent the reports,” she said.
“What in the hell was that about?”
Carolina flinched at his biting tone. “Haverty is good at what he does, but he’s got an ego to match.”
“You basically dressed down the man I said not to call.”
A knock sounded on the office door. Saved from having to explain, Carolina swallowed, trying to dislodge what felt like a brick of indecision stuck in her throat.
Her cell chimed and she answered with a hoarse, “Hello.”
“I was serious about us getting back together,” Jeff said. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.”
She watched Matt in the doorway as he spoke to Miller.
“Don’t be like this. I know you’re upset about how things ended. I was in a fucked-up place. Carolina, I’ve missed you. How about we go over the reports tonight over dinner. Or better yet, in bed.”
“Listen closely. Not in a million years.” It felt like her voice was cut off, strangled by irritation that Jeff was on the other end of this call.
“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Do you want to get married? Done. We can deal with this cattle thing and then fly to Vegas. Or big. We can have one of those marriages like your cousin and invite everyone on the planet.”
She turned toward the wall, away from Matt, and whispered, “What is so difficult to understand about the concept not in a million years? No means no.”
“You’ve always liked the chase. Isn’t that what this is? If you only knew how excited you get me.”
“Jeff, stop,” she hissed. “I’m not going to have dinner with you. That’s impossible.”
“It’s very possible if you’d bend a little.”
Good Christ! She needed this idiot’s help, not his attention. From her peripheral vision she noticed that Matt had turned. He was glancing over his shoulder at her and she sucked it up. “Jeff, I can’t. What happened in the past is water under the bridge. If you could look at the lab results and give me your opinion. I’d appreciate it.” Her fingers dug into the armrest.
“You always played hard to get. I can’t say it doesn’t work in your favor. I’ll do what you’ve asked, Dr. Rodriguez. Then, if I play nice, will you consider a drink? For old times?”
When hell was full of glaciers. With brittle politeness, she replied, “As I’ve said, that’s impossible.”
“Don’t act so cold. Sweetness, you aren’t a
brick wall, at least not to me. I’ll be in touch.”
Carolina jabbed disconnect. She leaned over the desk, staring at the reports.
“Sounds like quite a call.” Matt stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “Who were you talking to, Carolina?”
“Dr. Haverty. You’ve got a pathologist.”
“Sounds like you know him. And not just contractually.” Matt’s brow arched dangerously.
The hairs at the top of her neck stood at attention. “I did — I mean, I do. You know everything there’s to know about him from my references. I’m being a professional.” She twisted her fingers, wincing at her floundering. Could she possibly sound any guiltier? This moment would be better served if she kept silent.
“You just snap your fingers and men are too happy to bend over backwards.”
“Matt, I dated him. It’s over. I didn’t want to call him but you needed these samples looked at. He’ll do that. Jeff is the best in his field. You should be happy.”
“Who says I’m not overjoyed?”
A spark shone in the narrowing of her cowboy’s dark blue eyes. Enhanced by the twist of his lips into a wry smile. Matt looked damn close to exploding. His hooded eyes kept her frozen to the spot. And his flaring nostrils didn’t help.
“I-I-I bet you’ll have an answer by tonight.” Carolina hated the quaver in her voice. Taking a deep breath, she went on, “This isn’t about pride, it’s about your herd, Evermore’s reputation.”
Matt removed his work gloves and threw them on the desk. He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at her. “I didn’t come here to argue with you, even though you seem all too ready for a dustup. I trust you. If you say this guy is who we can use, then that’s good enough for me.”
Then why was he still scowling. “Haverty is,” she replied. “We want answers and we’ll have them. I ordered the meds. Soon, we might have something to celebrate.”
Matt seemed to consider her words and stopped glaring. “Would you like to? We can go out and kick back.”
She’d tap-dance on the barn roof if it would get him to stop frowning. Maybe they both needed a night out. It sounded like a great idea. “That would be fun,” she whispered, praying that Jeff would send the reports then slither back into whatever university research hellhole he currently occupied.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cory was waiting for her on the front porch. “This is going to be so much fun!” Matt’s sister grabbed her by the arm and brought her into the house.
“Hey, Carolina,” Sarah said. “Would you care for something to drink?”
“I’m good. Thank you.”
“Momma, stop fretting. We’ll be down in a jiff. C’mon. My room’s upstairs. I rarely have any girlfriends who come over. They’re all off at college!” Cory hollered as she dashed up the stairs.
“Whoa,” Carolina huffed.
“Momma says I have to turn twenty-one before they’ll let me loose on a college campus. I’ve got my eye on UCLA. I finished high school a year ahead. And for what? It was a trick, I think. I drove my parents crazy. They thought every phone call during the day was going to be from the high school counselor asking me to leave. Can you imagine?”
“You’ve got fantastic lung capacity.” Carolina didn’t know what else to say.
“Right, I do. I swim. Or did. Freestyle. It helped so much. Then I got into dance. Ballroom. I teach at a studio in town if you’re interested. Gosh, it’d be a hoot if you and Matt dropped by.”
“Speaking of which, what should I wear to dinner?”
They entered Cory’s bedroom done in varying shades of cream. Thick luxurious carpet swallowed her feet. Everything was as neat as a pin. Carolina mentally rolled her eyes at what Matt had mentioned back in Miami—that his sister had hoarder tendencies. The room really was very elegant.
“Did you design your bedroom?” she asked Cory. “It’s lovely.”
“Yep and thanks. My aunt tried to sway me on the window treatments, but I wasn’t having it.”
There were simple gauzy curtains on each of the windows with expensive looking hardware for the rods and hold-backs. For all her flair, Cory’s understated taste was remarkable. “Cory, you’ve got an eye,” she agreed. “Are you thinking of majoring in design?”
“Not exactly.” Cory smiled. “Matt said he was taking you dancing. That means the Double Diamond or Big Sugar’s. Our cousin Cade sometimes tends bar at the Diamond, but he’s off in the Marine’s with my other cousin Rod. But back to fashion for tonight. Nothing to worry over. You won’t need anything more than a jean skirt and boots. I’ve got plenty. Something short and something fancy.” Cory’s hand moved to mid-thigh.
Carolina pulled her hand down toward her knee. “How about here?”
“Nothing doing. You’ve got the legs, Carolina. Why not torture my brother just a smidge? It’ll be too much fun and payback rolled all into one superb dart. If ya get my drift?”
“I do but I’m not trying to angle anything with Matt. It’s just a date.”
Cory rolled her eyes. “Girl, keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, I’ll deal with the here and now.”
Carolina smiled. “What do you suggest?”
“Mmm, what perfume do ya wear? It’s just lovely. It’s smells like jasmine with a little bit of orange. And definitely tuberose.”
“Thanks, it’s Gabrielle. I didn’t bring it with me tonight, but you can borrow some, whenever you like.”
“That’s the newest one from Chanel and it’s sold out! Here and in Paris, I’ve checked. Only an eBay site in the UK has some. Five hundred dollars a pop! Can you imagine, for half an ounce? It’s worth more than gold bullion!” Cory blustered. “Golly, you’re lucky.”
Sam had given her an ounce. “My cousin gave me a bottle,” Carolina explained, “When I was the maid of honor at her wedding, recently.”
Cory grinned. “Oh, I do love weddings. But if I kept every bridesmaid gown I ever wore, I’d need a second closet. Some days I think that stupid saying always the bridesmaid never the bride will come true. Not that I mean it about you, what with your cousin’s wedding.”
Cory crossed the room. She spread apart the closet doors and Carolina couldn’t believe her eyes as she followed her inside. It was the size of another large bedroom. Heck, it rivalled a small department store.
“Good Lord,” she mumbled.
“Don’t think too much on the night ahead.” Cory swept her perfectly French manicured fingernails along the rows of shirts. “I find it’s best if you focus entirely on what you like. If you feel good, so will your date! Just pick something and we’ll get you fixed up.”
Carolina had never seen so many colors, so many textures in the form of clothing, shoes, accessories. Anything a woman could think of was inside Cory’s closet. That was saying something since Carolina came from a long line of savvy consumers. Her cousins were nothing short of industrial shoppers, but Cory put them all to shame. “How did you acquire all of this?”
“You’ve heard of Amazon?” Cory asked.
“Hasn’t everyone!”
“Well, I’ve got my own associate’s page. Girl, I sell to all my family, my friends and their families. I earn enough to keep me buying. And I’ve socked away a nest egg to cover my UCLA tuition. When I go to college, I plan on majoring in finance. I don’t play when I shop. I deal in discounts. You need something, just call me. Have no fear, I’ll hook you up.”
“Jean skirt?” Carolina squeaked. There was at least a dozen, in varying shades of denim.
“You’re a size four or six?”
“Six on the bottom. Sometimes larger on the top.”
“Right. You’ve got them curves my brother loves.” Cory started taking hangers off the rod. “Hold out your arms.”
“That’ll do. Really. I just need a skirt and a top.”
“And boots with flair. Size 7?” Cory folded out a step stool.
�
�Yep.” Carolina laughed, amazed by the other woman’s obvious talent.
“This week, I’ve got Ariat, Dingo, Justin’s … Turquoise, blood red, ostrich.” Cory stepped down with four shoeboxes. “Go put your pile on the bed and come back for these.”
Cory set them down on the island in the middle of her dressing closet. When Carolina returned she had hats, belts, and tops in neat piles.
After trying on clothes for an hour. Cory and she finally agreed on a tight stonewashed jean skirt with intricately placed patches. The ensemble included a pair of Laredo boots, a rhinestone belt, matching earrings, and a chambray Western shirt in turquoise to match the boots. And an aqua camisole so she could leave the shirt unbuttoned for the most part.
After another hour and a half, Carolina was dressed, primped and had on enough make-up to look like someone else entirely. Her hair was done in soft waves, sprayed, and she wore a white cowboy hat. Cory went downstairs ahead of her to get her camera set up. Carolina sat in front of the mirror, wondering who the heck had time to prepare for dates in Texas and hold down a career.
She rose and passed by a floor-to-ceiling mirror. The skirt was a little shorter than she preferred. But she had bigger fish to fry in her pool of worry. She took out her phone and checked her email. Nothing from Jeff. It wasn’t a mystery that Matt was less than pleased that he was using her former employer. He’d said little after their office conversation on the matter.
After, Matt had left, returning to the ranch land to get his section of fence fixed. She’d remained in the office and answered emails and looked for another pathologist to use. By the afternoon, she had several interested prospects not only from Florida, but as far away as Seattle. She’d spent some time updating her resume and included, almost tearfully, her consultation work at Evermore. And of course, she had the business plan that Matt had prepared in case she had thoughts of expanding, or setting down roots, say with an office.
She clutched her cell and fought calling Jeff, demanding to know where the reports were. God, it had been a mistake to call him. Carolina tried not to berate herself and shook her head. She spent four hours reading, reviewing, and tracing gene combinations when she located the specific gene group. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the genetic program that would assist her on identifying the specific gene or a mutation, and that’s why Jeff’s involvement was imperative.