The same old Barrie—single-minded, stubborn as all get-out and perfectly capable of sorting out her own life. That’s what their married life had been—her way. And if you just looked at what she’d done with herself in the last fifteen years, it could be argued that the best thing he’d ever done for her was to get out of her way. He’d never been a part of her success—and she hadn’t been a part of his. From this side of things, it looked like a life with him had only slowed her down.
The truck rumbled over the snowy road, tires following the tracks from that morning. Fresh snow drifted against the fence posts and capped them with leaning towers of snow. Beyond the barbed wire, the snow-laden hills rolled out toward the mountains, the peaks disappearing into cloud cover. He’d learned to love this land those few years he’d stayed with his aunt, and having Barrie by his side as he drove out this way was frustrating. Curtis might be a constant irritation to Barrie—even now, he was realizing—but he wasn’t useless, either. So if he and Barrie were only going to butt heads, he might as well focus on the work ahead of them.
“We’re almost there,” he said. “Around this next corner.”
Barrie sat up a little straighter, her attention out the window.
“I left the cow with some feed and a blanket—you know, just in case. I wasn’t sure how sick it was, so—”
“That was a good call,” she said, glancing around. “How far out into the field is it?”
“A few yards,” he said. “Not too far. I found it when I was filling feeders this morning.”
He pulled up to the gate that allowed trucks access to feeders in the field, and got out to open it. The cows looked up at him in mild curiosity—an older calf ambling over as if interested in some freedom beyond the fence.
“Hya!” he said, and the calf veered off. Curtis jumped back into the cab and drove into the pasture, then hopped out again to close the gate behind them. By the time the gate was locked and he’d come back to the truck, Barrie was standing in the snow, her bag held in front of her belly almost protectively. Her hair ruffled around her face in the icy wind, and her breath clouded as she scanned the cattle that were present, her practiced gaze moving over them slowly. She was irritatingly beautiful—that was the first thing he remembered thinking when he’d met her in senior year. She was the kind of gorgeous that didn’t need what he had to offer, but he couldn’t help offering it anyway.
“The cow’s over—” he began, but Barrie was already walking in the direction of the cow about twenty yards away now. The cow had shaken off the blanket, and the rumpled material lay in the snow another few yards off.
“I see her,” Barrie said over her shoulder.
Once—just once—couldn’t Barrie be a step behind him? But whatever. They were here for a cow, and not their complex history. If she wanted to know why he needed a new start so badly, here was a prime example.
“Lead the way,” he muttered. It’s what she’d always done, anyway.
* * *
THE COW WAS definitely ill; she could tell by the way the animal stood. As she got closer, she could make out nasal discharge, the bovine equivalent of a runny nose. The snow was deep, and she had to raise her feet high to get through it, something that was harder now that she was pregnant. Her breath was coming in gasps by the time she approached the cow. She had to pause to catch her breath, and she glanced back to see Curtis’s tall form close behind.
It felt odd to have Curtis in town, and something had been nagging at her since she’d seen him in the barn last night—how come this was the first she’d seen of him in fifteen years? Betty was in Hope, and she’d been like a second mother to him. He’d walked out of town and come back only once—to finalize their divorce. Did he hate Barrie that much by the end of their marriage?
She looked around the snowy field, gauging the cow’s flight path. When handling cattle, it was important to make sure they had a free escape route, or the cow might panic, and two thousand pounds of scared bovine could be incredibly dangerous. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted.
“You never visited Hope,” she said as he stopped at her side.
“Sure I did.”
She looked over in surprise. “When? I never saw you.”
“A few Christmases. I didn’t call friends or anything. I just had a day or two with Betty and headed on out again.”
“I didn’t realize that.” She licked her lips. “Why the secrecy?”
“It wasn’t a secret visit, just streamlined. I didn’t really keep up with people from high school. I came to see Betty.”
She eyed him speculatively. “You weren’t avoiding me, were you?”
His lips turned up into a wry smile. “Why would I avoid you?”
Barrie sighed and turned back to the cow. She felt the cow’s belly. It hadn’t been eating much—like the calf—but the belly wasn’t completely empty, either. The cow shifted its weight from side to side, and she took a step back.
“Maybe the same reason you left in the first place,” she replied, her voice low.
“You really wanted me dropping in on your family Christmases?” he asked.
“No.” She sighed. She wasn’t sure what she wanted—absolution, maybe. She hadn’t been the wife she’d tried to be back then, but now, as a mature woman, she wasn’t sure that her image of perfection had been realistic. It certainly hadn’t included the fights they used to have...
Barrie liked the challenge of taming a wild spirit when it came to horses and cattle, but she resented that same wild spirit when it came to her husband. Marriage meant hearth and home to her, but to Curtis, it had been a beat-up trailer parked wherever he was bull riding.
But he’d come back for Christmas with Betty a few times, and somehow that stung.
“I meant well, you know,” she added. “I only ever tried to make a home for you.”
“I was a bull rider,” he replied. “You knew all of that before you married me.”
“Most men settle down when they get married,” she countered. “A wife should change something.”
“Not my identity. You wanted me to act like a different man.”
“I wanted you to act like a married man!”
The old irritation flooded back, and she hated that. She’d come a long way in the last fifteen years, and it felt petty to slide back into those old arguments. She wasn’t the same person anymore, either.
“I never cheated on you,” Curtis countered.
“There is more to marriage than monogamy,” she said. “You had a home with me, Curtis. You treated it more like a hotel room.”
“In all the best ways.” He shot her a teasing look, and she rolled her eyes in response. They might have shared a passionate relationship, but that hadn’t been enough. She’d been the fool who’d married a man based on love and her belief in his potential.
“Forget it,” she said with a sigh. “It was a long time ago. I’m sorry to have brought it up.” This was exactly why they hadn’t worked out. They talked at cross purposes, but maybe he was right—she’d been trying to change him. She was wise enough now not to try that again.
Barrie turned her attention back to the cow. She checked its temperature, and while she couldn’t tell exactly how sick the animal was by temperature alone, it had a low fever. All the signs were here—the illness was spreading, apparently. She patted the cow’s rump, and it didn’t move.
“We wanted different things, Barrie,” he said. “You wanted that white picket fence that would please your parents and give you some respect around here. I didn’t care about Hope’s respect. I wanted some adventure. We just...clashed, I guess.”
Barrie dropped the thermometer back into her bag, and pulled out a fresh syringe and the bottle of medication. Yes, she’d wanted a respectable home, and she’d worked hard to create it. A garden in the ba
ckyard, flowers in the front... He’d never cared to put down his roots where she’d turned up the soil.
“Quite simple, really,” she said with a sigh. “And we’d been young enough to think it wouldn’t matter.” She turned back toward the cow. “I’ll give the antibiotic shot. It’ll boost her recovery.”
“You’re the expert,” he replied, and she glanced back to see Curtis standing there with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. The wind had reddened his cheeks, and she had to admit that he had aged. In a good way, though. He wasn’t like some of those boys from high school who were bald under their baseball caps and sported beer bellies now that they were creeping up to forty. Curtis was in good shape.
Barrie prepared the syringe, then felt for the muscle along the flank. Her feet were cold in her boots, and the wind stung her fingers. Just as the needle hit flesh, the cow suddenly lunged, knocking Barrie off balance as it heaved forward.
The cow stepped back so fluidly that she wasn’t able to pull herself out of the way quickly enough. But just before she was trampled, strong hands grabbed her by the coat and hauled her backward so fast that her breath stuck in her throat.
Barrie scrambled to get her feet underneath her, and Curtis lifted her almost effortlessly, then pulled her against him as she regained her balance. She was trapped in his strong arms, staring up into a face that was both achingly familiar and different at the same time.
“You’ve aged,” she said feebly.
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Is that how you thank a cowboy?”
“Thanks...” Her stomach did a flip as she straightened and pulled out of his arms. “I’ll be fine.”
Curtis cast her a dry look.
“What?” She smoothed her hand over her belly.
“How many times have you told me now that you’re fine? I’m calling BS on that, Barrie. You aren’t the least bit fine right now.”
“The cow missed me—”
“That’s not what I’m taking about, and you know it.”
Barrie bent down to collect the syringe that had fallen into the snow. The cow had wandered off a couple of yards—maybe this particular cow had a bad experience with an immunization or something. Whatever had happened was all perfectly within the realms of normal when it came to a vet’s daily duties. Granted, if she weren’t pregnant, her reflexes might have been a bit faster...
“Curtis, you don’t actually know me anymore.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “You might not have liked the kind of husband I was, but I was your husband. I knew you, and I can recognize when you’re freaked out.”
Curtis might know some of her deeper characteristics, but that didn’t mean he still knew how she thought and what could get a rise out of her. He’d missed fifteen years of personal growth. Besides, she hadn’t been enough for him, so he could take his insights into her reactions and shove them.
“I’m not freaked out.” She shot him an irritated look. “I’m fine.”
She looked toward the cow again and adjusted the syringe, getting it ready for one more try.
“I don’t need rescuing.” Her fingers moved as she spoke. “So do what you have to do with that building, and I’ll sort things out. I always have.”
“Fair enough.”
Barrie didn’t want him to sell that building, but he’d already made it clear that he was out of options. If their divorce had taught her one thing, it was that she was better off facing facts and dealing with them. Hoping and wishing didn’t help. She’d focus on her future with her child.
“And you’ll need to quarantine that cow,” she added.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not new to this, Barrie.” His smile was slightly smug, but arguing with Curtis Porter about just about anything wasn’t a great use of her time. Professional. In and out. What had happened to that excellent plan?
She headed toward the cow that had wandered off. She might be pregnant, and her life might be spinning right out of control at the moment, but she’d get through this by standing on her own two feet. Curtis was a cautionary tale—that was all.
Barrie took a deep breath, and let her tension go. The cattle could feel it. She patted the cow’s rump, then inserted the needle into the tough flesh. She slowly depressed the plunger, then pulled the needle out and firmly rubbed the injection site.
“Done.” She turned around and gave Curtis an arch look. “Like I said, quarantine that cow, and any others that appear sick. That’s the fastest way to curb an outbreak.”
Curtis might know her weaknesses, but she also knew his, and he was the furthest thing from reliable. She needed a plan and blinders, because with a baby on the way, she didn’t have the luxury of being knocked off balance a second time by the same cowboy.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Barrie ran her hand over a golden Lab’s silky head. This was Cody, the beloved pet of the Hartfield family, and he’d broken his leg while running on the ice. He was still unconscious from the sedative she’d given him, but his leg was set, the cast was in place and he’d recover just fine. His mistress, thirteen-year-old Melissa Hartfield, stood anxiously to the side. She wore her winter coat, open in the front, and a pair of puffy boots. She was a town kid—her dad was the mayor.
“Will he be okay?” Melissa asked. She looked younger than her age—her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her large eyes scanning the equipment. She glanced up at the IV inserted into a vein in the dog’s leg, then down at the catheter Barrie had introduced to keep the dog comfortable while she worked. The catheter was out now.
“He’ll be fine,” Barrie reassured her. “It’s not a bad break. I’ve put a cast on, and he’ll have to wear a cone so he leaves the cast alone, poor boy. The cone is the worst part for them—it hits them in their dignity.”
Melissa smiled faintly. “Will he be in pain?”
“I’ll give you pain medication and some antibiotics. He’ll need to take both daily—they’re very important to help him rest more easily and to keep infection at bay.”
“The IV—” Melissa looked intrigued. “How did you find his vein through his fur?”
“By touch.” Barrie caught the girl’s eye. “You’re interested in veterinary medicine?”
Melissa’s cheeks colored a little. “I want to be a vet like you when I grow up.”
Barrie grinned. She never tired of talking to young people who wanted to follow in her footsteps. “That’s great. And you can be. Just make sure you stay focused on school, because it’s a long haul. And you can’t let yourself get sidetracked by boys, either.”
“That’s what Mom always says,” Melissa said with a roll of her eyes.
“Your mom is right,” Barrie replied.
The front door to Barrie’s clinic opened—she could hear the soft chime—and Melissa looked toward the door. Her mother, Jennifer Hartfield, would be arriving anytime now to pick them both up, but Barrie couldn’t see the waiting room from where she stood.
“Is that your mom?” Barrie asked.
Melissa nodded.
“Let’s bring Cody out to the waiting room, then,” Barrie said. “You can take him home before he wakes up all the way. He’ll be groggy for a few hours, but when he does wake up, you need to make sure he stays off this leg, okay?”
Melissa nodded. “Dr. Jones?”
“Hmm?” Barrie removed the IV and pressed some gauze over the puncture.
“I was wondering if you might need some help. I’m not asking for a job—I know I’m not old enough for that. But I could help out, and I’d really like to learn...”
Barrie shot the girl a smile. “I’ll give that some thought, Melissa. I might be able to find something for you to do. And you’d have to get your mom’s permission, of course. I’m going to be talking to the 4-H girls next week, so I’ll see you t
hen, too.”
“Are you really?” Melissa asked. “That’ll be cool.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Barrie set aside the last of the equipment and they wheeled the dog into the waiting room. Barrie was surprised to see both Jennifer Hartfield and Curtis standing by the line of chairs. He stood there like a tank—hat off but legs akimbo as he looked around. That dark gaze still gave her pause, even after all these years, and she shoved back those familiar feelings. Attraction had never been their problem. She gave Curtis a nod.
“Is there a problem with Betty’s herd?” Barrie asked.
“Nope. Just came by.” That dark gaze warmed, and she swallowed. Why did he have to do that? They weren’t married anymore, and he had no right to go toying with her emotions when she was trying to work. She turned a smile to Jennifer.
“Cody is going to be fine,” Barrie said, and she began explaining the care he’d need at home while his leg recovered. Jennifer and Melissa listened as she finished her explanation, and after Jennifer had paid the bill, they prepared to transfer Cody to the back of their SUV.
“Mom, Dr. Jones says that I might be able to help her out some time,” Melissa said.
Jennifer’s smile tightened. “Oh, did she? We’ll talk about that later.”
“But I could learn about being a vet, Mom, and—”
“Melissa...” There was warning in Jennifer’s tone, and Barrie glanced between them. It didn’t look like Jennifer was on board with this.
“Mom, you said that if a vet were willing to have me around—” Melissa started.
“I said if Dr. Berton were willing to have you around,” Jennifer said, her gaze flickering toward Barrie and then back to her daughter. “But we couldn’t get in to see Dr. Berton, so you’ll just have to wait.”
Barrie knew exactly what this was about—her pregnancy. Jennifer was a church lady through and through, and this pregnancy offended every sensibility she had. But now was not the time to offend a paying customer. Besides, there was more to Jennifer’s story than simply being the mayor’s wife and a Sunday school teacher... There was a whole story there that most people didn’t know—but Barrie did. She and Jennifer had been close friends when they were fourteen-year-olds in the eighth grade, and when Jennifer disappeared for the rest of the school year, Barrie might have been the only one who knew where she really went.
Montana Mistletoe Baby Page 4