by BJ Wane
The peaceful quietness of his darkened home greeted him as he entered the mud room off the kitchen. That lasted all of two minutes. Shaking his head as he went into the kitchen, he snatched his cell off the counter, not surprised to see it was his middle brother calling at the wee hours of the morning.
“I swear you have some inner radar thing going on,” Drake growled in exasperation. He much preferred Cody’s fancy cooking skills to his constant checking up on him.
“It’s only been a few months since I left the sheriff’s department. Give me time. I’m sure I’ll lose that sixth sense before long. Casey just texted with a patrol update and mentioned seeing a wolf running along Cedar Bluff. You okay?”
“Yes, Mom. Fuck, Cody, I’m not about to go off the deep end now.”
At one time, during those first few months following his rescue, Drake had been close to losing his shit, but the counselors and his family’s support had pulled him through. He wasn’t about to repay their loyalty by slipping into that abyss that had threatened his sanity during the long days of his captivity and months of recovery.
Cody’s sigh came through the line. “Neither Gavin nor I think you will. We’ve covered your stubborn ass since our first shift. You don’t expect us to stop now, do you?”
“One can always hope,” he returned dryly. “I’m starving, and that casserole you brought over is calling my name. Quit keeping me from food.”
“It’s five a.m. Time for breakfast, not dinner.”
“Whose rule is that? See you at the stables shortly.”
Drake clicked off, his thoughts on both his brothers as he retrieved the chicken cordon bleu Cody dropped off last night. The middle McCullough brother’s talents as a gourmet chef came in handy when Drake tired of his own plain cooking, and were worth Cody’s efforts to see him eat regular, healthy meals. Gavin, the eldest, had returned to the ranch to take over for their father following his retirement. Both of them remained mute on what, or whom, they’d left behind in Boise that was responsible for their own moody ups and downs.
Grabbing a fork after the microwave dinged, he took out the warmed dish and sat at the table, suspecting women were at the root of his siblings recent discontent. “And that’s why I don’t get involved,” he said aloud.
Drake dug into the chicken-and-ham concoction, determined to never risk harming another human again, regardless of circumstances, by staying to himself. After witnessing his father’s protectiveness toward their mother over the years, he sure as hell wouldn’t risk developing that strong emotion toward a woman. After allowing his wolf a taste of bloodlust to free himself, he wasn’t sure he could stop the animal if it ever came to having to protect a mate.
No, no matter how long it took him to get rid of the nightmares, or how lonely he found himself on occasion, he wouldn’t take a mate, no how, no way.
CHAPTER ONE
One year later
Roz parked in front of the Winthrop Animal Clinic and Hospital with a giddy sense of satisfaction, sitting for a minute to gaze at the woods running behind the clinic and the wide-open meadows on either side of the building. Situated a half mile off the two-lane main road that connected the nearest towns of Brooksville and Ashton, she found the vast openness of space and lack of busy big-city noise soothing.
The move from Iowa to Idaho wouldn’t stop her ex in-laws from pursuing to put her in jail, one way or another, but at least it would give them grief, and maybe her a little extra time to enjoy her freedom while she could. Nothing could have surprised or pleased her more than getting Dr. Dennis Winthrop’s call three months ago, asking if she was interested in interviewing for a position at his clinic.
Not just yes, but hell yes. She’d wasted no time booking a flight, looking forward to seeing the veterinarian who had taught a semester on equine veterinary medicine while she’d attended Iowa State University. Instead of finding her constant questions on doctoring livestock an annoyance, he’d told her in the interview how impressed he’d been with her interest and drive, and was looking for someone just like her to take over his practice once he retired next year.
After she spent a week shadowing him here, at his clinic, and falling in love with the area, he’d offered her her dream job, giving her time to return home and make plans for the move. Roz had been honest with Dr. Dennis, revealing everything that had happened with Dean, and the threats from his family. To her eternal gratitude, he’d hired her anyway, assuring her he would never hold protecting herself against her, or anyone else.
Now, here she was, finally divorced from Dean—whose condition remained the same—living on borrowed time but determined to make the most of it until Patty and Ricky found a way to convince the DA to charge her. Between their money, influence, and hate of her, Roz didn’t doubt they would succeed one day.
She got out of her car as Dr. Dennis opened the front door of the clinic dressed in his usual attire of a cardigan over a white shirt, loose pants, and scuffed cowboy boots. He was short, with thinning hair and wire-framed glasses, and came towards her with a welcoming smile creasing his lined face. “You made it!”
“I did, but you didn’t have to take time from your Sunday to meet me today. I saw a motel on my way through Brooksville and could have gotten a room for tonight.”
“Nonsense,” he said, coming forward to take the suitcase she’d retrieved from the back seat. “The studio is ready, and my son has invited you for Sunday dinner. I gotta warn you, though, his household is lively and loud. Did I mention they have five kids?”
“A time or two,” she returned, humor lacing her tone as she grabbed the other suitcase.
When Dennis wasn’t talking veterinary medicine, he was going on about his family. That was one of the things she liked best about him—his obvious love for his wife, children, and grandchildren. Roz had never known a parent’s love or the closeness of a sibling, but her mother’s much-younger sister, Deandra, had filled both gaps with unwavering support when she’d taken in three-year-old Roz after her mother’s untimely death.
Following the doctor inside the sprawling clinic, Roz noticed everything appeared the same as when she’d toured the facility a few months ago, only now the space was empty of patients and staff. “I want to reiterate how much I appreciate this opportunity, Dr. Winthrop.”
Dennis stopped at the hall and turned around. “Call me Dennis, and, as I said before, it’s I who should thank you. I didn’t think I would ever find someone who had the smarts, conscience, and drive to take over for me, let alone settle out here in the Midwest, surrounded by ranches and towns no bigger than twelve hundred people.”
She flashed him a grin. “It’s perfect for me. I was ready for a change.”
Cocking his head, he regarded her seriously as he replied, “Don’t let his family get to you. That’s what they want. Let’s get you settled in, and you can take the rest of the day to unpack and explore. Dinner will be at six. We’ve got a full schedule tomorrow, so you’ll be busy.”
“Relocating will help, I hope.” She doubted it would deter Patty, but Roz intended to leave as much of that drama, and her in-laws’ threats, in Iowa for as long as possible. The whole point of making this move, other than to jump at the chance to work with larger livestock, was to get as much out of life as she could while still free. She couldn’t indulge in ticking off her bucket list with Patty and Ricky breathing their dire convictions down her neck every time she turned around.
Following Dennis toward the rear of the clinic to the attached studio, she said, “I plan to drive into Brooksville for a few groceries and necessities, but other than that, I’ll reacquaint myself with the layout in the clinic and be ready first thing in the morning. Are you sure your family has room for one more tonight?”
Dennis set her suitcase down inside the door then handed her the key. “No problem, there’s always room for one more. It’s Sunday, so the grocery is closed. There are canned goods in the pantry and a farmer’s market in town, right on the corner of Ma
in and Pine, near the park. If you need anything else before you can get to the grocery, let me know.”
“Thanks, but you’ve done enough, and that should get me by for now. Go, enjoy what’s left of your afternoon. I’ll be fine here.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. You have free run of the clinic, and if you’d check on my patients in the recovery room, I’ll return to pick you up for dinner around five forty-five. Their charts are on the kennels. The cow outside needs another pain shot, and the pinto in the next paddock needs her dressing changed, if you have time.”
“I read somewhere a herd of sixty cows is capable of producing a ton of milk in less than one day.”
His lips quirked. “I see you’re still rattling off animal fun facts. That’s one I didn’t know.” He patted her arm. “Relax, Roz. If I didn’t think you could handle the job, I wouldn’t have offered it to you.”
Roz gave him a rueful smile. “Got it. I just don’t want to let you down. I’ll see to the patients and be ready for dinner in a few hours.” She ushered him out, her heart turning over with fondness for the man who didn’t realize what a boon this job was to her after the last year of turmoil, despite her nervousness in not wanting to disappoint him.
Closing the door, she scanned the compact space, fresh vase of flowers on the small round kitchen table and the basket sitting on the end table next to the sofa. A small television flanked by book and knickknack shelves sat against the wall. Padding across the wood floor, she lifted the cloth cover, her heart doing another flip as she eyed the fruit, nuts and homemade cookies. A tucked-away card was signed by the staff of the clinic. No matter how long she stayed here before Patty got her way, the time spent and heartache of leaving would be worth it, she was sure of that now.
Roz carried her bags to the large closet and hung up a few items before storing the rest in the dresser next to it. She’d refused to take anything from the house she’d shared with Dean for two years, and even though this place could fit into their master suite, it already felt more like home than that cold monstrosity ever had or the studio apartment she’d moved into afterward. After taking stock of the compact kitchen, she wound her way to the recovery room and spent an hour with the three dogs, four cats, and a runt-of-the-litter piglet, who was adorable, before checking on the horses and cow grazing in the paddocks attached to the clinic.
She winced, taking in the barbed wire cuts on the Angus’ legs, administering a booster pain shot after reading her chart. “Thank you for standing still for that, sweetie,” she crooned, stroking the docile bovine’s neck. It was nice of the cow to cooperate on Roz’s first day.
After changing the dressing on the mare’s shoulder wound, she locked the gates and strode around front to get in her car. The afternoon was still warm, but the temperature always dropped with the lowering sun this time of year, one of the clues colder weather was right around the corner.
Brooksville was a short, fifteen-minute drive, which made it the most convenient town for her to do her shopping. Multiple booths selling an array of homegrown produce and fresh-baked goods lined the parking area right where Dr. Winthrop’s directions led her. The adjacent park was teeming with kids on the playground, dog-walkers, and a baseball game. Town folk both selling and shopping greeted her with friendly smiles of welcome as she filled a bag with sweet corn, tomatoes, and cantaloupe. Feeling better and better about making the move out here, she picked up a jar of locally harvested honey on her way to her car, then veered toward Main Street.
Her previous trip had been too short to explore the area, but Dr. Winthrop had extolled the virtues of small-town living in Idaho. She could have told him it wasn’t necessary—she’d been open to moving before getting his call for an interview. A smile of smug satisfaction curled her lips as she turned onto Main, replaying Patty’s tirade when she’d learned of Roz’s moving plans. Since the moment the doctors declared Dean’s condition irreversible, she’d never doubted his mother and uncle would eventually succeed in seeing her behind bars. There was nothing she could do to stop them, but that didn’t mean she would sit around and mope, waiting for the axe to fall.
The one street that made up the downtown shopping and business section of Brooksville was as charming and quaint as she’d imagined. She drove past Gail’s Goods, closed, and the grocer’s, also closed, trying to think of any places in Ames that still closed on Sunday. A few national chains gave the day off to all employees, and it was nice to see the tradition carried on in some rural towns.
As she neared the corner, making note of the shops she wanted to return and visit, she saw a row of vehicles, mostly pickup trucks, in front of the only restaurant she’d come across. The Wildgrill Barbeque seemed to do a whopping business, which spoke volumes for the food. She parked and got out, thinking to get a takeout order to tide her over until she could return for more groceries.
“Be right with you,” a thirty-something woman called out as she bustled by Roz, carrying a tray laden with mouthwatering samples of whatever smelled so good.
“No hurry.” Roz scanned the tables and booths then strode to the long counter and grabbed one of two empty stools.
The woman seated next to her turned with a smile and held out her hand. “Hi. Gail Sontag. Are you passing through?”
Bemused, Roz shook her hand. “Roz Kingman. Are you assuming I don’t live around here, or do you know everyone?”
She waved an airy hand. “Oh, heavens, I’ve lived here my whole life. I know everyone.”
“Now you know everyone, as I just moved here today.”
Gail clicked her fingers. “Doc Winthrop’s new vet. I should have guessed. He’s been going on about you for weeks. Welcome to Brooksville. I own Gail’s Goods, up the street. Stop by some time, just to visit, or shop.”
“I will, thanks.”
Stepping behind the counter, the woman who had greeted Roz when she’d come in handed her a menu. “I see you’ve introduced yourself, Gail. I’m Rosemary. My husband and I own this place. You must be our new vet. Welcome.”
Warmed by their open acceptance, Roz replied, “You do a booming business. That says a lot about your menu, and you. What do you recommend for someone who usually sticks to chicken and fish? Oh, do you do takeout?”
“That’s what I’m here to get,” Gail chimed in as a server handed her a large bag. “Gotta run and feed the gang. Since the clinic’s closed Wednesday afternoons, why don’t you meet me at my store, and we can walk over to Bart’s Burgers and get lunch?”
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Great, see you then, Roz. Rosemary, thanks.”
“See you Thursday night, Gail.” Rosemary looked at Roz and filled her in. “That’s bingo night at town hall. Everyone is welcome.” She leaned over the counter, pointing to the poultry section on the menu. “Pheasant and wild turkey. Try one of those first then work your way toward some of the other wild game slowly. You get two sides per meat choice, or you can go al a carte, if you’re getting takeout, like Gail.”
“I am today, since I have a dinner invitation. I’ll dine-in another time. I’ll take a half pound of each and a quart of coleslaw so I don’t have to cook for a few days. Thank you. I appreciate the suggestions and the welcome.” More than you know. One thing on Roz’s bucket list was to make friends and memories, and her first day here, it seemed she’d accomplished the start of both.
Eyeing all the Stetson-wearing, rugged cowboys around the room, she thought of the one thing she longed to knock off the list the most—a hot, preferably kinky, affair. She would need to store up as many of those memories, and orgasms, as possible to last her once she went to prison.
Rosemary called out her order then turned around to catch Roz taking inventory. “If you see anyone who catches your interest, tell me and I’ll give you the scoop. The four seated in the corner booth work on the McCullough Ranch, all single, but in their early twenties. You’d do better with one of our older bachelors.” She nodded toward the two men seated at the
end of the counter. “Buck and Travis. Playboys who will show you a good time and then the door, so tread lightly there.”
“Am I that obvious?” Roz didn’t mind—she was on borrowed time, after all.
“Not to any of them. Those guys are oblivious unless they’re the ones pursuing. But I’ve learned to read people over the years, and, honey, your face is an open book. That’s your order,” she said as a bell pinged from the kitchen.
Roz followed her to the cash register, paid, and took the bag. “Thanks, Rosemary, for the food and the advice. I’m sure I’ll return for more of both.”
“You do that.”
Roz drove to the clinic with visions of hot, sweaty cowboys dancing through her head, shoring up her determination to live life to the fullest while she still could.
Gail was already seated on the small patio at Bart’s Burgers when Roz arrived Wednesday afternoon. Located one street over from Main, there were more offices mixed in with the quaint shops you don’t find in bigger cities any longer. Joining her at the umbrella-covered picnic table, the pungent odor of grilled onions and bacon teased her senses, her stomach rumbling in response.
“I’m starving. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“No, just got here, but I’m a person short today and have to make this quick. I’m sorry. I would have called except you said you were coming into town anyway to get groceries.”
“I was, and it’s no problem. I understand work comes first. I’ve put in long hours these first few days, getting caught up on the running of things. The clinic is busy, and I like it that way, but as the newbie, it can get daunting. What should I get that will keep me from buying too many groceries that won’t end up fitting in my miniscule kitchen?”