“But then there are m-my parents...” Kaycee bit her lower lip. “You know they’re in prison, right? What does that say about me?”
“Their transgressions are part of their records, not yours.” Darcy slid an arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “And I think you’ve become a far stronger person because of it. I would be very proud if my daughter grew up to be someone like you.”
“Do you think I should just go ahead and tell Dr. Maxwell everything? I mean, would it be better if he heard it from me?”
“If you think he’s going to hear things around town about your family, it might be more straightforward to get it all out in the open, so he hears the truth and not some exaggeration. But that’s completely up to you.”
* * *
The answering service called at two a.m. to announce crisply that a client had an emergency and was requesting immediate help.
Logan flicked on the lamp, reached for a notebook on the bedside table and jotted down the address and phone number, ignoring the pain shooting down his right arm with every movement. He groaned and eased back into bed for a few seconds, considering his options.
There was no other equine vet within forty miles. He needed to take this call. But how was he going to manage a potentially complex case given his damaged shoulder?
At the multi-vet clinic in Montana, there had been plenty of staff. Vets were on a rotating schedule for after-hours emergency farm calls, as were the vet techs who were willing and able to leave home on short notice at night if a vet needed extra help.
Here, he could set up an alternating on-call schedule with Darcy, but she was a single parent with a young child, so how would that work? And the possibility of extra help on night calls didn’t look promising, either.
Kaycee had younger siblings who lived with her, and Marilyn was office help, not trained as a vet tech. She would mostly be in the way, if she tried to help with a complicated case. Unless...
Glancing at the clock, he muttered “Forgive me” as he dialed Marilyn’s cell. Then he called Darcy.
Twenty minutes later, Marilyn had arrived at Darcy’s place to watch over Emma as she slept, and Darcy arrived at the clinic to ride with him to the farm.
“Double-time pay, huh?” Darcy said. “Marilyn could certainly use it.”
“I just felt guilty about waking her up and grateful when she said yes.”
He headed for the front driver’s side door, but Darcy beat him to it. “No problem, but I’m driving so you can rest that shoulder.”
The main highway was empty this time of night, the headlights cutting a narrow swath of light through the pitch-black countryside. Logan typed the address into the dashboard GPS screen. A crisp female voice directed them well out of town, then onto a maze of narrow gravel roads.
“I never would’ve found this place without a GPS,” Darcy muttered.
The final turn took them down a narrow drive to a white ranch house and a metal barn. A woman emerged from the barn and waited anxiously as Darcy grabbed the plastic tote of supplies from the backseat of the truck.
“She’s in here. Please hurry.”
Bright banks of fluorescent lights illuminated box stalls flanking both sides of the wide aisle in the horse barn.
A big paint mare stood cross-tied in a large cemented area with rubber mats on the floor. A water hose snaked across the wet cement.
Blood had pooled on the floor by her front hooves. The gaping wound on the bulging muscle of her forearm was least ten centimeters wide and looked deep.
“I’m Dr. Maxwell,” Logan said, offering his hand. “And this is Dr. Leighton.”
“Margie Ford. We raise show paints here, and Buttons is one of our best mares. I heard a ruckus outside and found her fighting with a horse in the next corral. Two of the fence boards were splintered, so I think she ran into the sharp edges. It was bleeding pretty good at first, but I applied pressure for about twenty minutes. Now it’s just seeping a little.”
Logan leaned close and studied the damage, then listened to the mare’s heart and lung sounds. “Has she been bred for next year?”
“We thought so, but she came back into heat yesterday.”
“I need to sedate her to examine this. We need to determine just how extensive it is.”
Margie nodded. “Absolutely.”
Darcy drew a dose of xylazine into a syringe and handed it to him. He palpated the neck, found the jugular vein and, after temporarily occluding the flow of blood with his thumb, delivered the sedative.
The mare stood patiently through it all. As soon as her muzzle began to droop toward the floor, he donned surgical gloves and began gently probing the wound with his fingertips. “Did you remove any wood splinters?”
“I didn’t see any, and didn’t want to poke around in there to find out. I did start to rinse it off with the hose but figured it was better to leave that to you.”
“Good. Sterile saline is better.” He gritted his teeth as a wave of pain seared through his shoulder. “Darcy? If you could take over, that would be great.”
“Got it.” She donned surgical gloves, grabbed an IV bag of the saline from the tote and filled a syringe, then removed the needle. Using the syringe as a gentle water pistol, she began gently flushing dirt and debris from the wound.
After refilling the syringe a half-dozen times, she set it aside and began probing the wound, checking its depth and feeling for foreign objects.
Every movement was gentle and sure, and she was exceptionally thorough. Logan relaxed as his confidence in her clinical skills grew.
Darcy looked up at Margie. “Fortunately, most of this is shallow. There’s a central depth of around seven centimeters, though.”
Margie moved closer and anxiously peered into the wound. “But she’ll be all right? No major damage?”
“The bone wasn’t compromised, so that’s very good news. Now we just need to keep the wound clean and let it heal.” Darcy reached for an autoclave bag, pulled out sterilized surgical scissors and trimmed away several dangling tags of shredded hide. “These small bits will die and just impede healing. It’s best to clean up the edges of the wound.”
“You’re not going to stitch it all up?” Margie asked in disbelief. “Won’t this leave a massive scar?”
“It looks bad to you now, but I don’t think it will. I’d like to suture just the upper half of the wound and leave the lower five centimeters open for drainage.” Darcy glanced up at Logan. “Dr. Maxwell?”
He nodded. “I agree.”
“I’m going to give her a strong antibiotic today by injection and leave you with Bactrim tablets you can dissolve in water and give her twice a day starting tomorrow night.” Darcy looked over at Margie. “Can you handle that?”
“Of course. No problem.”
“It’s a tricky place to bandage, given the tapering of the foreleg toward the knee,” Darcy continued. “But I’d still like to wrap it for tonight and tomorrow to keep it clean, then come back tomorrow late afternoon to irrigate the wound and see how it’s doing. After that we’ll look at a progression of different types of dressings, depending on the stage of wound healing.”
Darcy rifled through the tote at her feet and applied a dressing held by a thin layer of cotton wrap, followed by fluffy roll cotton and a cohesive elastic wrap over it all. “Done. But give us a call if the bandage slips, and one of us can come back to replace it.”
“I’m so glad you two were able to come. It’s great knowing that we’ve actually got equine vets in the area again.” Margie blew out a relieved breath. “I’ll be calling you from now on.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” Logan touched the brim of his hat as he and Darcy sauntered out into the darkness toward his truck.
Out here, so far from the lights of town, the sky was awash with glitteri
ng stars. It was chilly during the predawn hours, and he saw Darcy shiver.
He casually dropped his good arm around her shoulders as they walked. It was just a friendly gesture to share warmth, but he felt her tense, and he dropped his arm.
Interesting.
She’d felt so...right, nestled within that hug. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. Somehow his thoughts had instantly conjured up images of long evenings over coffee. Candlelit dinners. She’d clearly felt anything but.
He had yet to hear anyone mention her boyfriend, spouse or partner, yet what was such a lovely, sweet and hardworking person like her doing all alone? There must have been someone, because she had a daughter...but where was he?
What if he’d been abusive?
A surge of protectiveness rushed through Logan at the thought, though a small voice whispered that her life was none of his business. He sat at an angle on the passenger side of the truck and casually watched her as she drove back to Aspen Creek.
Bluish smudges of exhaustion left dark circles under her eyes, but she was smiling to herself and humming a faint song completely out of tune.
Nope, it definitely was none of his business.
And yet he found himself clearing his throat. “You did a fine job out there.”
She shot a quick glance at him. “Thanks, but it wasn’t much, really.”
“But it was. That suturing was done perfectly, and you didn’t make a move that a top-notch vet wouldn’t have made. So now I’m even more curious. You have real talent for the equine side of things. Why did you leave it behind?”
“It’s a long story.” Her jaw hardened and she gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. “And not all that interesting.”
But he guessed it was.
In the dark intimacy of the truck cab, illuminated only by the dashboard lights, he felt emboldened enough to step over the bounds she’d clearly set...curious if the mystery surrounding her was somehow tied to her troublesome financial situation.
“Is it a secret?” he teased.
She rolled her eyes. “Not really. I can promise you my worst legal transgressions have been a few speeding tickets, and I didn’t leave the previous practice under any sort of cloud. I enjoyed the work. I liked the clinic. But it was simply time to move on, so I did. Without regrets. Now Aspen Creek has become our home, with good friends, a great church and clientele at the clinic whom I enjoy very much.”
It was an answer...and yet it wasn’t.
He belatedly realized that he’d opened himself up to the same question, but she didn’t ask the obvious. Instead, she settled into a comfortable silence. Dawn was brightening the eastern sky in ribbons of gold and mauve when she pulled up at the clinic next to her car.
Leaving the truck motor running, she glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard and climbed out of the cab.
“See you back here in a couple hours,” she said with a wry smile. “Have a good night’s sleep.”
He watched her car pull out of the parking lot, its taillights glowing like rubies as it disappeared down the street.
He’d asked a simple, reasonable question about her past and she’d shut down like a door clanging shut on a bank vault...but not before he’d seen a flash of vulnerability in her eyes.
And now he had more questions than ever before.
Chapter Nine
Wednesday passed in a blur, what with a busy clinic schedule and another trip out to Margie’s place with Logan to check on the paint mare.
When Darcy finally picked up Emma at the sitter’s and got home, she was too tired to make anything more than hamburgers and green beans for supper.
But afterward, once Emma was tucked into bed, she finished the final coat of polyurethane on the master bedroom floor, flopped onto the sofa—the only piece of furniture in the living room—and heaved a sigh of relief. One room done.
She’d been flippant while telling Logan she could do it all herself once it was clear that he’d be laid up for a while. Saving his time for more complex projects had seemed logical at the time.
True, she could follow directions and slowly get the floors done, but all of the steps took more time than she’d dreamed. And after prying at the vinyl on the kitchen floor for an hour, she knew it was going to be one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.
At a knock on the door she jumped, startled and a little nervous as always about a stranger showing up on her porch after dark. Her heart had been broken after losing her elderly dog Elsie last fall, but as a single parent, Darcy also missed her fierce barking whenever someone approached the house.
No stranger would have guessed the noisy dog inside was a thirty-pound marshmallow.
“Yoo-hoo, are you home?” At the sound of Beth’s cheerful voice, Darcy hurried to the front door and let her in.
“I have to follow up on everyone who won a handyman at the auction and make sure things are working out.” Her arm curved around a clipboard, Beth surveyed the furniture piled in the kitchen and the bare floor of the living room. “Wow. You’re sure making progress. Is Logan working out for you?”
“Very well. He repaired the picket fence and also started the flooring, but then injured his shoulder. He also has some great ideas for the kitchen cupboards, though there might not be enough hours to cover any of that.”
“And how are you two getting along?” Beth waggled her eyebrows. “I was just at the salon getting my hair trimmed, and he seemed to be the hot topic of the day. Sooo handsome. So nice. So eligible. Just thought I’d mention it in case you’ve had any thoughts in that direction.”
“No. Absolutely not. It can be open season on Dr. Maxwell for as long as it takes for someone to tie him down. Really.”
Beth gave her a speculative look, her mouth twitching. “Sounds like an awful lot of protest.”
“Well, I mean it. You know what happened back in Minnesota with Dean. I trusted him. How can I dare fall for anyone else and be sure it won’t happen again? I was completely clueless.” Darcy snorted. “As in, too stupid to live.”
“I predict you’re going to find the right guy someday. A guy you can completely trust and love forever. And then you’ll have to eat your words. For the record, I do think your new vet is pretty hot.”
Well...yes. And he was turning out to be a much nicer guy than she’d first thought. But that didn’t mean she would take a chance on him or anyone else. “It just isn’t worth it. And what about Emma? I don’t want to start dating and have her thinking she’ll have a new daddy soon, then be heartbroken if the relationship doesn’t work out. She is my priority.”
“How is she doing, by the way? I heard she had an asthma episode after church last Sunday, when my husband and I were out of town.”
“She was fine after using her rescue inhaler. This time of year is tough for her, with the grasses and weeds, but molds and perfumes spell trouble, too. Since there were a lot of visitors at church for a baptism, maybe it was perfume.”
“Poor sweetheart.”
“She’s been fine since. We just never know. Sometime she even starts wheezing without any of her usual triggers nearby. The doctor said her sensitivities could change over time. I’m just hoping they go away.”
“Me, too. It’s always a worry having something like that. By the way—different topic—we’ve missed you at the book club lately. Monday mornings, eight o’clock at my bookstore?” Beth teased. “Thought I would mention it since we haven’t seen you for so long.”
“I used to keep that first hour on Monday morning open so I could join you, but things have been a lot busier lately. Once we get into summer and people are traveling, the schedule at the clinic will slow down.”
Beth gave her a knowing look. “When you come, bring that vet you’re definitely not interested in. We have some new membe
rs who might like to check him out.”
* * *
Check him out, indeed. Beth’s words kept slipping into Darcy’s thoughts as she worked through a busy appointment schedule the next day. How did she feel about that, really?
She’d told Beth the truth. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. Dean had pretty much cured her of that basic human longing for companionship and love. She’d had to immerse herself in prayer to finally let go of the hurt and anger following his betrayal.
But did she really want to see Logan madly in love with someone else? It was selfish not to wish him happiness. She didn’t even know him that well.
But with every day that she worked with him, with every conversation, she’d started to see new sides to him that had begun to touch her heart.
With several emergency call-ins and no extra time in her schedule to cover them, he had taken the extra appointments this afternoon so those clients wouldn’t face long waits.
Now, on her way to the lab, she passed the open door of an exam room where an elderly woman hovered anxiously over her obese Maltese while Logan checked its heart and lung sounds.
It was Mrs. Peabody, dressed as usual in her faded print Sunday dress, sturdy laced shoes and a sagging sweater that had seen better days. Bent over and always short of breath, she religiously brought her dog into the clinic for the slightest signs or symptoms but was only able to pay a few dollars each time against her ever-growing account.
Darcy hated to accept even that much from her and had begun charging her less and less, waving off the old woman’s protests by saying, “Today we’re having a sale,” or “I really didn’t do that much, anyway.”
Darcy lingered just past the door, hoping Logan wouldn’t look at Mrs. Peabody’s balance at the top of the clinic visit sheet. Hoping he wouldn’t say anything less than tactful. If she asked about today’s cost and he told her the truth, she’d probably succumb to a massive heart attack at his feet.
“I-is my baby all right?” The old woman’s voice quavered. “I was so afraid this morning when his breathing didn’t sound right. H-he’s all I have left, doctor.”
Falling for the Rancher Page 8