Healing the Cowboy's Heart

by Ruth Logan Herne

  A perfect match...or sworn enemies?

  Only time will tell at Shepherd’s Crossing.

  Horse breeder Isaiah Woods can’t believe his only ally in helping a neglected mare is the descendant of his family’s bitter enemy—veterinarian Charlotte Fitzgerald. Despite the feud, Charlotte risks everything to save the horse. But as she falls for Isaiah—and the orphaned niece and nephew in his care—the mare isn’t the only one who needs saving.

  Was Charlotte wondering about him?

  Isaiah couldn’t help but notice how her expression changed. She’d been angry when he’d approached the paddock, but not now. She was caring. Lovely. Beautiful.

  When he reached a hand to her cheek, she almost leaned into it. But not quite.

  Instead she took a firm step back. “Don’t mess with my head, cowboy.”

  He lifted one eyebrow.

  “And don’t do your strong, silent cowboy nonsense on me, either. I’m here to do a job, and I’ve already managed to tuck myself into a very Hatfield-and-McCoy-style land feud and into your family scandal, and I’ve created a chasm between me and the old-guard veterinarian. I don’t need casual flirting to muddy the already churning waters.”

  “No one mentioned the word casual.”

  She shot him a skeptical look as she came around the front of the horse.

  “And for the record?” He paused just ahead of her, blocking her way. “I don’t do anything casual. Ever.”

  Multipublished bestselling author Ruth Logan Herne loves God, her country, her family, dogs, chocolate and coffee! Married to a very patient man, she lives in an old farmhouse in Upstate New York and thinks possums should leave the cat food alone and snakes should always live outside. There are no exceptions to either rule! Visit Ruth at ruthloganherne.com.

  Books by Ruth Logan Herne

  Love Inspired

  Shepherd’s Crossing

  Her Cowboy Reunion

  A Cowboy in Shepherd’s Crossing

  Healing the Cowboy’s Heart

  Grace Haven

  An Unexpected Groom

  Her Unexpected Family

  Their Surprise Daddy

  The Lawman’s Yuletide Baby

  Her Secret Daughter

  Kirkwood Lake

  The Lawman’s Second Chance

  Falling for the Lawman

  The Lawman’s Holiday Wish

  Loving the Lawman

  Her Holiday Family

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  HEALING THE COWBOY’S HEART

  Ruth Logan Herne

  He that covereth his sins shall not prosper:

  but who so confesseth and forsaketh them

  shall have mercy.

  —Proverbs 28:13

  This book is dedicated to my good friend Becky Prophet. We share three grandchildren and a love of God and good stories. Becky, the good Lord sure blessed us when He brought you into the family. This one’s for you. Thank you for being a great “Mimi” and a great friend.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Wander Canyon Courtship by Allie Pleiter

  Chapter One

  Charlotte Fitzgerald might be a big-animal vet, schooled to remain unemotional when things go bad, but the scene in front of her sent a chill of misgiving through her despite the Idaho midsummer’s day. She was facing seven critically ill horses who had found their way into a paddock adjacent to a well-known riding academy at the height of summer-camp season. On her right were a dozen young steeplechasers, hoping and praying for the stray horses’ survival.

  Charlotte had spent a lot of years praying as a child. Wishing her mom hadn’t died shortly after giving birth to her. Hoping her father would become the kind of dad every child wanted and needed.

  But her Mama did die and her prayers regarding her father went unanswered. As a result the intuitive horsewoman and veterinary surgeon learned to stand on her own two feet. For now that was enough.

  “That one needs to go down.” Braden Hirsch had been the only local farm-animal vet until Charlotte rolled her mobile-veterinary-clinic van into town less than forty-eight hours before to fulfill the terms of her uncle’s will: if she spends a year helping to keep Pine Ridge Ranch solvent, she would inherit 25 percent of the ranch’s value next summer. She’d give the mixed horse and sheep venture free veterinary care as needed, but right now her focus was here, watching the crusty vet perform a half-hearted medical triage on the depleted animals.

  She’d intended to meet Dr. Hirsch later today, a polite gesture. One professional to the other. He was in his sixties, according to the internet, and maybe considering retirement.

  Only here they were, caught at a scene of horrific neglect and tragic circumstances, and she was about to make the whole thing worse by disagreeing with him.

  He jerked a thumb toward a hobbling chestnut gelding. “Too far gone.” Then he waved to a group of three miserable creatures that were huddled together. “The palomino might have a chance. The rest...” He scowled at the remaining horses, and Charlotte understood his expression.

  He wasn’t mad at them.

  He was furious that they’d been left to struggle for however long it took to put them in this wretched condition.

  “Braden.” The woman who’d called for help kept her voice purposely soft. “You’re going to put six of them down?”

  He glared at her, then the horses. “You wanted a professional opinion, Bitsy. You got it. Any idea where they came from?”

  She shook her head. “None. Which means they’ve probably been wandering throughout winter, based on the state they’re in. You’d think that with the conditions we’ve had for the last two months, they’d have recovered somewhat, wouldn’t you?”

  The veterinarian huffed. “Some are smart enough to do that. Some aren’t. And sometimes it becomes survival of the fittest.”

  Survival of the fittest? Char bit back a protest.

  He was wrong.

  Char was sure of it, but she was the new kid on the block, just arrived from veterinary school and a stint on a Western New York farm specializing in horse care. There was no way these seven had been open grazing anywhere for the past few months, because they’d have had abundant food and water, even if rain had been scarce. And they would have been noticed, wouldn’t they?

  “What do you think, Doctor?” The woman turned toward Charlotte, seeking a second opinion. An opinion that wasn’t going to win her any points with the other veterinarian. She began to answer as a pair of sheriff’s cars pulled into the equine academy’s driveway, followed by a pickup truck hauling a two-horse trailer.

  The older vet’s narrowed eyes challenged her to disagree. The last thing she wanted was to begin her n
ew career on the wrong side of the established veterinary practice, but she put her comfort on hold to do what was best for the horses. “Where there’s life, there’s hope.”

  The woman—Bitsy Armbruster—let out a sigh of relief as Chad Armbruster tried to distract the campers behind them. There were about a dozen teens and preteens in attendance, and whatever happened next wasn’t something a bunch of horse-loving kids needed to see.

  A man climbed out of the pickup truck and came their way. He walked big. Straight. Tall. Sure of himself and square-shouldered. Crazy good-looking. Black hair, a touch long, as if taking time to get haircuts didn’t make the short list. Great cheekbones and a square jaw suggested Native American lineage. Warrior shoulders completed the image.

  “Isaiah!” One of the girl campers jumped the fence and tore across the pasture. “I knew you’d come!” She threw her arms around him and held on tight, and when he hugged her back, the look of love he gave her...

  Charlotte would have given anything for a father who loved her like that. She got a cheating conniver instead, a man who came from money and managed to lose it all once he was running the family publishing business. She had learned a lot as the youngest daughter of an esteemed Kentucky horse-breeding family, though. She went into veterinary school at Cornell with an intimate knowledge of horses. That knowledge was about to put her toe to toe with the old man at her side.

  “Isaiah.” Bitsy motioned him their way. “I’m so glad you’ve come. And you brought a trailer.” Hope raised her voice slightly.

  The girl started to come forward with him.

  The man paused, saw Dr. Hirsch’s expression, then indicated the other side of the fence with a simple thrust of his chin. His message was clear. Would the girl follow the silent directive?

  She frowned, then trudged across the field and hopped the fence to join the other campers on their way to a barn set a fair distance away.

  Neat trick, thought Charlotte.

  “I don’t think you’ll be needing that trailer, Isaiah,” said the old man.

  “Better prepared than wishing I was, Braden.” He kept his voice low, and walked with quiet authority. “If I left it at home, J.J. would think I made up my mind before I took the time to have a look, and what kind of man does that?” He didn’t look like he expected an answer and didn’t get one. He indicated the electric fencing surrounding the pasture. “Has anyone blocked the way they got in here?”

  “We called the sheriff as soon as we discovered them,” Bitsy answered, “but both deputies were at the other end of the county and we didn’t want to leave either the campers or the horses unsupervised, so I asked Ty Carrington to help,” she explained. “He knew that Charlotte had just come to town to open a veterinary practice, so he asked her to come over. He’s fixing the fencing on the northwest corner. He’ll give us a high sign when we’re ready to power up. We had shut the power down to save money because our horses are kept closer to the practice jump areas right now.”

  “So, breaking through the wire wasn’t a big challenge.”

  “No.”

  Bitsy’s phone buzzed a text. She read it and gave them a thumbs-up. “Fencing is powered up.”

  “A lot of waiting for horses who aren’t likely to try to get anywhere fast,” said Braden. “I’ve got office hours in thirty. Let’s get this done.” He began moving forward with a worn black bag.

  “Hold on.” Charlotte crossed the distance quickly and stood between him and the first horse. “You’re going to put them down without giving them any kind of examination?”

  Braden huffed, impatient. “I might not have a fancy van with pretty letters on the side, but I’ve got eyes and experience, girl. That’s what bears weight around here.”

  The other man—Isaiah—took a moment to look behind them. She’d parked her brand-new mobile veterinary van on the back side of the Armbruster house. The words CMF VETERINARY stood out in a large font, over the peaceable image of a horse, a cow and an ewe with lambs. A trusty dog sat off to the side, while a mother cat looked after tumbling kittens. He studied the van, then her without a speck of emotion for either.

  Charlotte stood her ground. “They deserve the courtesy of an examination.”

  The older man glared at her, then Bitsy. “I came here as a favor.”

  Bitsy swallowed hard but sided with Charlotte. “We should check them over, shouldn’t we, Braden? If you don’t have time, maybe Charlotte would do it for us.”

  Charlotte motioned toward the sad-looking group of horses. Six were standing, listless, as if too tired to walk or eat. The seventh was down, on her side, an aged mare that might have been pretty in her day. She wasn’t pretty now. “I’d be happy to do the exams, Doctor, so you can get to your office hours on time.”

  He glared at her, then the horses, then her again. He turned as if to leave, then swung back. “Let’s get to it.” Sour-faced, he started for a horse.

  “We’ve made him angry.” Bitsy sounded genuinely distraught, as if the old veterinarian’s anger was a bigger worry than it should be. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Neither had Charlotte, but to declare such a permanent decision without making an examination seemed wrong.

  “Braden has given years of time and expertise to help reestablish the ranches in this part of Idaho,” Bitsy added as they followed the old man. “I’d never want to hurt his feelings.”

  “Put the blame on me,” declared Charlotte, and she didn’t keep her voice all that soft, either. “Because if I’m going to have half a dozen dead horses on my conscience, it’s going to be for a good reason.”

  Bitsy looked surprised, but then not so surprised, as Charlotte’s words hit home.

  The cowboy tipped back his hat slightly. He met her gaze briefly, then moved up alongside the older vet. “How can I help, Braden?”

  A peacemaker.

  Well, good for him. Charlotte had a lot of respect for a serene existence, but the cheating father and then the law-breaking ex-boyfriend made her realize that peace at any cost wasn’t peace. It was capitulation, and where these poor horses were concerned, she wasn’t about to give an inch.

  The cowboy turned. “Do we have any placements, Bitsy?”

  “The Council Rescue can take two.”

  The old vet snorted.

  Bitsy ignored the sound as Charlotte moved forward to examine the horse.

  “Ty said they could house two for the interim.”

  The old vet shot her an incredulous look over his shoulder.

  “Young Eagle texted that he could take one and his sister would tend another. He’s coming right down.”

  Braden Hirsch’s scowl deepened. “A couple of weeks back, that might have been the way to go, but I’m telling you straight, you’re causing more harm than good to try to rehabilitate animals like this. You get ’em healthy and then someone tries to ride one and gets thrown because the horse has lost its trust of humans or just spooks easy, and then your happy ending goes up in smoke.”

  “It’s a valid point.” Char felt the heat in the first horse’s leg, then moved on to the group of three. They scattered, but they scattered quickly enough to make her assessment fairly easy. “Any horse that can shy that quickly deserves a chance.”

  “Being scared doesn’t make them healthy, girl.”

  “Doctor,” she replied smoothly. “And I have the Cornell University diploma to prove it.”

  “High-faluting schools don’t always mean good,” he retorted. “Sometimes they just mean overpriced and overdressed.”

  Two men had joined Bitsy. They were putting halters on the horses to aid in moving them, but when they approached a dun gelding, Charlotte shook her head. The dun was too far gone for help at this point. And that left them with the inert horse on the ground.

  “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” Char ran a gentle hand along the horse’s neck
when she got to the prone Appaloosa. “So very sorry.” She did a quick exam. The mare’s heart and lungs sounded fair, but she was little more than bones. Bones and...in foal, Charlotte realized.

  And yet so debilitated at this point that the idea of getting her healthy enough to have the foal, much less care for it, seemed impossible.

  A shadow fell over her. She looked up.

  Isaiah shifted slightly, then squatted beside her. He didn’t try to hide his brokenhearted expression. He laid a hand along the horse’s neck as if in benediction, then met Char’s gaze. “Two to put down? And five to attempt healing.”

  She started to nod when the horse lifted her head. Looked around. She seemed disoriented for brief seconds, then rolled slightly to see Isaiah.

  He stared at the mare.

  The mare gazed back.

  And when the big Native American swallowed hard, Char had to fight off a thrust of rising emotion. “You know her.”

  Gaze firm, he laid a hand against the horse’s face.

  “She knows you.” Char read the horse’s reaction. And the man’s.

  He blinked once, a silent assent.

  Braden came up behind them. “I knew this one was an easy decision, even for someone fresh out of the classroom.” He stopped. Stared. Then his look went from the horse to Isaiah and back again. He swallowed hard. Really hard. “She can’t be here. She was put down a long, long time ago.”

  Isaiah kept his face flat and a comforting hand along the horse’s jaw. “Clearly not. But maybe that would have been the better choice, considering.”

  “I’ll get things ready.” Braden set down a medical bag that had seen better days and opened it. With shaking hands, he withdrew what he needed to inject the mare.

  “No.”

  Braden paused. He stared at Isaiah. So did Charlotte.

  “We’re not putting her down. If she can get up and walk, we’re not putting her down.”

  “Well, she can’t or won’t—stubborn to the end—and you know every reason why we can’t let her live, Isaiah. Better than most.”