by Mia Ross
“If you can take this one,” Sierra replied, handing off the helpless scrap of fur, “Bekah and I can scoop up the rest, and we’ll take them all back to the nursery.”
A quick peek told Heather the kitten she held was a female, and she instinctively brought the small cat into her neck where it could snuggle against her warm skin. The fuzzy darling nosed its way into a dangling lock of Heather’s hair and let out a sigh that would have shattered a heart made of granite. Heather followed the other two women into a small room whose floor was occupied by nests made from flannel sheets and soft blankets.
They settled the litter of kittens in one of the cocoons together, and Heather sat down to get a better look at them. Their colors ran the spectrum of browns from tiger to calico, ranging in size from small to downright tiny. If any of them weighed a pound, she’d be astounded. Not wanting to disturb them any more than necessary, she lightly passed a hand over each one, feeling for injuries or labored breathing that would indicate distress.
The seven larger ones seemed more or less stable, and they clustered together in a warm lump, using each other for pillows. The runt didn’t seem even remotely interested in joining the group, and she collapsed in an exhausted pile at the edge of their nest, her face pinched and her delicate frame shuddering with every shallow breath.
“I don’t like the looks of this one,” Heather commented somberly. “Do you have an incubator?”
“Sort of.” Sierra half closed the door and took something from a hook attached to the back. She held it out with a grin. “It’s a sling they sell for mothers of preemies. The fabric is soft and light enough to let them breathe. I’ve found it works well for critter babies, too.”
“What a great idea. If you don’t mind, we can take turns with it.”
“You want to papoose a kitten while you’re working?” Bekah asked.
Heather answered by pulling on the hammock-like device and carefully setting her frail charge inside. “She’s not that heavy, so as long as I’m not seeing patients, I can manage.”
“I’ve never met a vet who’d even think of doing that,” Sierra informed her with a smile. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”
The quick, heartfelt approval chased off the last of Heather’s lingering nervousness. “We’re more than just coworkers here. We’re a team, and everyone should pull their own weight, including me.”
“Of course, these days some of us have more weight to pull than others,” Bekah joked, smoothing her hands over a modest baby bump. The rings sparkling on her left hand caught Heather’s eye, and she felt a twinge of envy for the pretty young mother-to-be. Then again, she reminded herself, she’d chosen to postpone having children until after she was firmly established in her own veterinary practice. It was a logical decision, and she was comfortable with the choice she’d made.
Most of the time.
“Will we be throwing you a baby shower soon?” Heather asked.
“I’m not due until August, so it’ll be a while still.”
“What are your plans after that?”
“I’d like to keep working here, but that will depend on the baby,” she answered truthfully. “Family first.”
“Absolutely,” Heather agreed, fearing that she might have overstepped her professional boundaries. Most people she’d worked with were stiffly polite, not open and friendly like these two. Now that she thought about it, Josh and Cam had made her feel right at home, too. Apparently, the residents of this small Kentucky town were the warm, welcoming type. This made her hopeful that Bailey would enjoy Oaks Crossing more than she had Detroit.
“Speaking of family,” Sierra said while she mixed kitten formula in a container, “Erin told us you have a niece who lives with you. Does she like animals?”
“Loves them. She’s settling in at the day care in town, but I’m planning to bring her to work with me sometime next week to see the menagerie we’ve got here. I’ll have to make sure she never sees this little darling, though,” she added, ticking the sleeping kitten’s pink nose with her fingertip. “I’m afraid if that happened, we’d end up keeping her.”
“Occupational hazard.” Sierra chuckled. “If my landlord allowed pets, I’d have a dozen of them.”
“When they’re old enough, Erin will take them to Pampered Paws and display them in the front window,” Bekah assured her, rubbing the striped forehead gently. “These cuties won’t last more than a few days there.”
It hadn’t occurred to Heather that living above the pet store would mean that she and Bailey would be walking past adorable babies every day. While she was practical enough to bypass the temptation, she wasn’t sure that a five-year-old would understand why they couldn’t adopt some of their furry visitors.
Then again, if they already had a cat, she’d have a built-in excuse to say no to more. It couldn’t hurt to think about it, anyway. A pet might also coax Bailey out of her shell and help her adjust to her new home more quickly. Because Heather wasn’t used to worrying about anything other than her job, she felt very out of her element trying to help her troubled niece.
While she was debating, Josh poked his head in through the open top half of the Dutch door. “Everything good in here?”
“More or less,” Sierra replied while she filled small bottles and capped them with even smaller rubber nipples. “We could use an extra set of hands, though. Have you got time?”
He sent Heather a questioning look, which she didn’t understand. Then it occurred to her that while she considered herself an outsider, the others already viewed her as being in charge of the clinic. It didn’t feel quite right to her, but she assumed she’d get used to it. Eventually.
“The more the merrier,” she said.
“My mom always says that,” he commented as he joined them, closing the door to keep anyone from escaping.
“Mine, too,” Heather told him with a smile. “That’s how my dad ended up starting out his retirement touring Europe in an RV with her, a Pomeranian and four parakeets.”
“Sounds loud.” Josh chuckled, taking a bottle from the counter before sitting on the floor beside the kittens. His long legs stretched out in front of him, he lifted a bawling tiger and cradled it against him in a practiced motion.
The small room didn’t have much space for spreading out, so Heather resigned herself to settling next to him with a bottle of her own. “I’m guessing you’ve done this before.”
“Everyone in the family likes to help out down here when we can. Except Mike,” he added with a grin. “Our Kentucky cowboy’s got his hands full wrangling all those horses.”
“I noticed them in the fields when we were driving out here. It looks like you have everything from Thoroughbreds to Shetland ponies.”
“My great-grandfather started out training horses for the military in World War I, then Dad trained racehorses. After he passed away, that business disappeared and we came pretty close to losing the farm. Mike’s kind of a horse whisperer, and he came up with the idea to school retired racehorses and sell them to folks for riding.”
“What about the others? I saw a Belgian in the front pasture, grazing next to an Arabian.”
“Mike rescues some from bad situations, others come from owners who can’t keep ’em anymore and want them to have a good home. If they don’t get adopted, they stay here with us,” he added, grinning down at the slurping kitten. “We’re just a bunch of softies around here, aren’t we?”
Heather smiled at the sight of the tall, brawny farmer cuddling the helpless animal, speaking to it in the kind of gentle tone most people reserved for children. While she had no intention of complicating her life any further right now, she couldn’t deny that he had a special brand of bright, sunny charm.
It was a good thing she’d already committed to staying single for the sake of Bailey and her career. Otherwise, Jo
sh Kinley might have proved to be impossible to resist.
* * *
“Hello?”
It was Thursday afternoon, and Josh was buried underneath the oldest tractor in the county, trying to wrestle the drive belt back into place, when he heard a now-familiar voice. Hauling himself out hand over hand, he looked up to find Heather staring down at him with an amused look on her face.
“Hey there, Doc. What brings you out here?”
“It’s my lunch hour, so I decided to go exploring.” She looked around her at the overgrown field, out toward the neatly plowed acreage in the distance, and then back at him. “I’m not an agricultural expert, but this looks like it’s pretty far from where you’ve been working. Do you mind if I ask what you’re doing?”
The crop portion of the farm was his domain. His brothers and their few hired hands were fully occupied with the horses, so Josh was used to doing his own thing without anyone questioning him. As much a part of him as his blue eyes, these rolling hills were the legacy Josh hoped to pass along to his own children someday.
Lately, though, the red numbers had been sinking lower by the month, no matter how hard they all worked. If they didn’t come up with something brilliant to bring in some cash on a regular basis, they’d be forced to sell off chunks of land for the first time in the farm’s long history. And that would be the beginning of the end for Gallimore Stables.
Josh was known as the upbeat one in the family, and for their sake he kept his outlook rosy. But even a determined optimist like him had to acknowledge that something concrete needed to be done, and quickly. So he’d devised a plan but hadn’t told anyone, not even Mom. But he’d been dying to share it with someone, and since it didn’t impact her directly, Heather seemed like a good choice.
“Well, I could tell you,” he said with a grin, “but you have to keep it to yourself.”
Enthusiasm sparkled in her eyes, and she nodded. “I promise.”
After describing the circumstances to her, he explained what he was up to. “So, I did some research and found out that a lot of corn in Kentucky is sold to the ethanol market. To be made into gasoline.”
“I know what ethanol is,” she informed him tartly.
Smothering a grin, he went on. “I got the idea when my nephew Parker built a biodiesel engine for a science fair. I had let this section go fallow to rest, so it was ready for planting this year. I’m just putting in a different kind of corn this time, and then I’ll pray the prices stay where they are till harvest time.”
“That’s a good idea. I hope it works out the way you want it to.”
Her cautious tone made him frown. “You sound like someone who has some experience with plans going awry.”
“More than I’d like,” she admitted softly, as if she hated to confide that to him. Uncertainty darkened her eyes before giving way to the cool look he’d noticed earlier. “When I saw you over here I thought I’d come see if I could help somehow.”
Josh glanced over her neat blouse and trousers, down to the sensible but pretty shoes she was wearing. “You sure about that?”
“I might be a city girl, but I’m no stranger to dirt. Besides, I owe you for the time you spent with the moving van and all those kittens the other day. What can I do?”
She seemed bound and determined to lend him a hand, so Josh hunted for something she could do that wouldn’t leave her either filthy or hurt. “Well, I guess you could brace this for me—” he grasped the shifter “—while I rethread the belt onto the pulleys.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she admitted with a cute half grin, “but I understand the bracing part. Just let me know when I should let go.”
“Will do.”
As he slid back underneath the ancient machine they called The Beast, Josh couldn’t keep from wondering if a walk was all that had brought her so far from the center. While he maneuvered the pieces back into alignment, he asked, “So how’re you getting along down there?”
“Fine. I’m learning about the animals a few at a time. Bekah’s wonderful with them, and Sierra’s very knowledgeable about everything.”
Josh picked up on the annoyance edging her tone and chuckled through the clanking of his wrench. “Yeah, she’s kinda bossy. I think that’s why Erin hired her. They’ve got the same charge-ahead approach to stuff.”
“So, you’re the youngest in your family?” When he grunted a reply, she went on. “I was, too. It’s not easy, is it?”
She was getting at something, but Josh had no clue what it might be. Distracted by his fascinating visitor, he lost his grip on the belt and the entire pulley system let go, jamming his hand against the rusty metal housing. Biting back a curse, he scrambled free to check the damage.
“Oh, that looks bad,” Heather announced, crouching down for a closer inspection of his hand. Then she gave him a knowing look. “You’re thinking something really bad right now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell my mom.”
“Tell her what?” Heather teased, adding a wink. So far, she’d given him the impression that she was a fairly serious person. Coming from her, the playful gesture seemed out of place, but he welcomed the glimpse of her lighter side. Maybe the classy vet wasn’t so prim and proper, after all. “I’m assuming this kind of thing happens a lot on a farm. Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Behind the seat.”
She climbed up the metal steps and unhooked the faded red case that hung from a set of rusty hooks. When she rejoined him, she opened it and eyed the scant contents with a doubtful expression. Picking up a tube of antibacterial ointment, she squinted at it before giving him a chiding look. “This expired five years ago.”
“Huh. How ’bout that?” That made her glare, and he held up his uninjured hand in a placating gesture. “Don’t blame me. Most of the time, I just wrap a bandanna around something like this and keep on working.”
“It’s a wonder you’ve never gotten an infection. Or tetanus,” she added ominously, eyeing the bleeding gashes on his hand.
“I got my shot.”
Again with the suspicious stare. “When?”
He had no idea. His years drifted from season to season, dictated more by what was going on around the farm than by the calendar. When you spent most of your life waking with the sun and finishing in the glare of tractor headlights, it was easy to lose track of pretty much everything else. To his mind, one of the best inventions ever was the automated payment system. Ever since Bekah had walked him through covering his handful of bills that way, he hadn’t missed a single payment. It was awesome.
“That’s what I thought,” Heather continued, adding a sigh that made it clear he wasn’t the first person she’d run across who ignored what she considered to be the important things. Glancing around, she stopped when she noticed something in the distance. “Is that a house?”
“Yeah, it’s mine. Why?”
“I don’t suppose you have something there to get this cleaned up properly?”
“’Course I do,” he retorted. “I’m not a moron.”
“Good. We’ll do what we can there and then you should get to the nearest clinic. You really need to have that looked at by a doctor.”
“You’re a doctor.”
“A people doctor,” she corrected him in a clipped, don’t-mess-with-me tone. “I can do the basics, but this needs to be stitched, and you need a specialist for that. You shouldn’t take injuries like this lightly, Josh. They can get worse in a hurry.”
Normally, he hated being lectured as if he were a troublesome child, but this one came in a voice laced with genuine concern. Realizing that this compassionate woman meant well, he put aside his aversion to being told what to do and nodded. “Okay, but that storm’s coming in real fast, and I wanna finish plowing this section before it starts raining. I’ll go
into town to see Doc Sheppard when I’m finished.”
“You’ll go now,” she insisted, glowering at him. When he glowered back, she gave him a wry smile. “Or I’ll tell your mom.”
“You haven’t even met her yet.”
“Imagine how awkward that would be for all of us. ‘Hello, Mrs. Kinley, nice to meet you. By the way, your youngest son is a stubborn mule who cares more about working over a few extra acres than taking care of his health. I just thought you’d like to know.’”
“All right, I get it. Man, you’re a pain,” he added as he got to his feet and glared down at her.
“That won’t work on me, country boy,” she informed him airily as she rose to stand. “I’ve seen the business end of an angry bull up close, so you don’t scare me.”
Brushing past him, she started off at a pace quick enough that he had to hurry to catch up. Her legs were a lot shorter than his, so it took him only a few strides. “Why was he mad?”
“Who?”
“The bull,” Josh pressed. “Was he mad at you or someone else?”
“Some genius trucked his favorite cow off to another farm while he was watching. They’d been together for years, and he didn’t appreciate them taking her away from him.”
Her perception of the animal’s emotions impressed him. Petite as she was, mothering a helpless kitten had seemed like a natural fit. It should have been a real stretch for him to picture her facing down a raging bull, but for some reason he had no trouble envisioning it. Maybe it was the spunky attitude she’d shown, or her no-nonsense approach to his injury.
Or maybe it was something else completely. Since he’d never met anyone like Heather, he had no frame of reference to enable him to make that kind of judgment. So he did what he usually did when he was perplexed by an unanswerable question. Put it out of his mind and moved on.
“How are the kittens doing?”
“The bigger ones seem comfortable enough, but the tiniest one worries me. She doesn’t seem to feel connected to them at all.”