by Mindy Neff
“Yep. And that’s how I found him, this huge, silly-looking dog lying smack in the middle of a litter of kittens. So that’s why I named him Simba. He’s a big old pussycat.”
“We have a kitty. She’s black, with a white dot on her nose.” Tori glanced toward the reception desk. “I bet Simba would like Twinkie, don’t you think, Daddy?”
Daddy?
Sunny sent an I’m-going-to-kill-you look at Donetta and Tracy Lynn—they were facing the door. Then she whipped around.
Jack was leaning against the reception desk, unabashedly listening to her tell Simba’s life history.
“I imagine he would, darlin’,” he said to his daughter, straightening away from the counter.
His eyes met Sunny’s and her heart jumped. His expression was guarded, but she felt an agitation emanating from him like heat waves on hot asphalt. Her senses went on alert.
Stepping over Simba, she walked toward Jack. “What’s up?”
He glanced beyond her shoulder to where Tori was happily gazing in the mirror as Donetta let her choose which glittery barrette she’d like in her hair. “Can I talk to you…outside?”
She nodded and opened the door. The heat hit her like a blast from a furnace.
“I—” He started to speak, then frowned at the front of her shirt. “What happened to you?”
She’d almost forgotten about her impromptu shower at the shampoo bowl. Looking down, she noticed the way the thin red cotton clung to the outline of her bra. “Tracy Lynn and I got into a water fight.”
His brows rose beneath his Stetson, yet his gaze remained on her breasts.
She put a finger under his chin. “Polite folks talk face-to-face, cowboy.”
His gaze lifted. It seemed to take a moment for him to gather his thoughts. Then his eyes cleared.
“I just got a call from the ranch. I’ve got another dead cow.”
SUNNY WENT OUT to Jack’s ranch for the second time that day. It was late afternoon, but the heat hadn’t abated.
Beau grudgingly let Simba into the house to play with Tori, and Jack got into Sunny’s SUV and rode out with her to where his foreman was standing guard over the dead animal.
“You told your man not to touch the cow, didn’t you?” The Suburban lurched and bucked over the rutted ground as she cut across the field.
Jack was quiet. She glanced over at him, saw a muscle twitch in his jaw.
“Sorry,” she said. “I asked that before, didn’t I?”
His nod was terse. She understood his turmoil. No rancher wanted to think about an epidemic infecting his prize beef. It could wipe out his entire livelihood.
A man about Jack’s age was leaning against a truck, smoking a cigarette. When they pulled up, he stubbed out the butt and met them halfway.
“This is Duane Keegan, my foreman,” Jack said. “Duane, Sunny Carmichael. She’s stepping in for Doc Levin.”
“We can sure use you,” Duane told her. He was at least a head shorter than Jack, with a pretty-boy face that would have been model perfect if not for the scar bisecting his chin. “I found this old gal about an hour ago.” He gestured toward the cow lying motionless on her side, flies buzzing around like moths batting at a bright bulb. “Boss told me not to touch her, so I’ve just stood watch. Scotty and Junior came out and moved the rest of the herd.”
“Thanks, Duane,” Jack said, stepping toward the dead cow.
Sunny stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Hang on a sec, will you?”
He seemed annoyed, but waited until she got her medical case out of the Suburban. Lamenting the heat, she donned a long-sleeved jumpsuit, tied a surgical mask around her face and pulled on a pair of latex gloves, then handed Jack gloves and a mask. “Let me do the handling, okay?”
“It’s my property. My liability.”
“And it’s my expertise.”
For a moment they engaged in a silent battle of wills. Then he nodded and put on the mask and gloves.
Squatting next to the animal, Sunny shooed away the tenacious flies and ran her hands and gaze over every inch of the cow. There was evidence of foaming saliva at the mouth, but the skin and eyes weren’t jaundiced, and she could detect no unusual lesions. This cow almost appeared to have keeled over from a heart attack or heat stroke.
She glanced at Duane. “You found the first cow, I understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“‘Sunny’ will do.” The closer she got to thirty, the more she hated anyone calling her “ma’am.” “Jack said you mentioned lesions. What did they look like?”
Duane shrugged and lit another cigarette. “Just sores, I suppose. Could have been bites from a horsefly or something.”
She noted that Jack’s jaw was tight enough to snap, knew he was wishing he’d been able to inspect that first cow himself.
She removed a kit from her case and gathered blood and tissue samples, then quickly sealed the smears so she could send them off to a lab for analysis. She needed better test kits, better tools of the trade, but since she’d been on vacation when her mother had phoned and this wasn’t an official case, she hadn’t felt comfortable raiding the lab for supplies. Most of the time when she went out on call, she worked out of a well-equipped mobile clinic. Right now, she was operating with the bare minimum.
“You’ve vaccinated for anthrax?” she asked Jack.
“Yes.” He crouched beside her, watching every move she made. “On the Forked S we vaccinate for everything.”
With a well-run cattle ranch like this one, she’d suspected as much. Jack wouldn’t have been careless. She recognized the vaccination tattoos and tags.
“Have you added any new animals to your herd recently?”
“Not from outside sources.”
She could tell he knew what she was asking. Foot-and-mouth disease wasn’t a problem in the United States, but for ranchers and veterinarians alike, it raised horrible fears. She was ninety-nine percent certain that wasn’t what they were dealing with here, since there were no signs of blisters in the mouth or on the hooves.
A myriad other diseases could wipe out a beef herd, though. That they were dealing with just two cows, that other stock from Jack’s herd weren’t dropping like weevils beneath a crop duster’s spray, gave her hope.
She stood, having collected her samples as best she could with what she had to work with. After removing her gloves, she double-bagged them and put them in her case.
“Have you noticed the cattle being off their feed lately? Appearing weak? Running fevers?”
“No.” Jack pulled off his gloves and mask. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’d rather not speculate, Jack.”
“I’m not going to panic.”
“I never said you would.”
He reached out to stop her from moving away, his palm connecting with the bare skin at her midriff where her top had ridden up. For a ridiculous moment, she imagined it was a lover’s touch. Her body reacted in kind, her heart thumping, her breath catching in her lungs.
Endless moments passed as she stared into his blue eyes. When at last he dropped his hand, she didn’t know whether to feel relieved or sorry.
She sighed. “There are just too many variables here, and I don’t have the right equipment to make a diagnosis. We could be dealing with any number of things. Even if you’re diligent about vaccination, that doesn’t mean your neighbors are. Ticks and horn flies can spread disease from one herd to the next. I’ll send these samples in and see what the lab says. Meanwhile, I have to check the rest of the herd—but I’ll need supplies.”
“I imagine there are supplies at Doc Levin’s.”
“My mom told me he’d up and left without a word. I thought he intended to stick around after he took over Dr. Porter’s practice. Do you think he’ll be back?”
“No one knows. Kat Durant is handling real estate now. She’ll have the keys to the clinic. No reason you can’t step in and use his place.”
“I’ll check it
out. Might not be a bad idea to administer a dose of oxytetracycline to the whole herd. Do you use antibiotics in your feed?”
“No. I like to keep my beef as hormone-and drug-free as possible.”
She nodded. Basically, Jack’s cows were merely an early form of pot roast, raised to end up on someone’s supper table.
“Could it be anaplasmosis?” he asked.
A good rancher knew about infectious diseases. And ranching was Jack’s lifeblood. “Like I said, it’s too early to speculate.”
“You mean, admit to your speculations.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” Turning to Duane, who was standing off to the side smoking another cigarette, she said, “Go ahead and burn this cow, and keep the rest of the herd clear of the area.” She wasn’t equipped to perform an autopsy, so disposing of the cow was the best option.
“Yes’m.”
Jack raised a brow at her taking charge, but signaled his agreement with a nod and walked back with her to the truck.
“You seem pretty good at what you do.”
“The government pays me to be good.”
“Will you be reporting this incident?”
She hated the thought of throwing the whole town into a tailspin. One leak to the media and the entire state would end up in mass hysteria. She was qualified to conduct the preliminary investigation. But that would require some sacrifices on Jack’s part. Sacrifices he wasn’t going to like.
“If you had a large number of your herd dying, I would definitely call in reinforcements. But this doesn’t feel like an epidemic. There are several easily treatable conditions that can emulate infectious diseases. I’ll know more when I get the lab results back on these specimens. In the meantime, I’d like to keep things low-key. I want your cattle quarantined, though. Until I make a diagnosis, you won’t be selling your beef.”
Although his jaw tightened, he nodded.
She laid a hand on his arm. “I’ll be as thorough and fast as I can, Jack. It just has to be this way.”
“I know. But time is money. Something like this could ruin me.”
And though it wouldn’t be her fault, she would be the instigator of that ruin if she ordered a mass slaughter of his beef. “I understand. I’m sorry.”
He stared at her for a long time. His probing look made her squirm. Discreetly, she brushed at her face in case there was stray dirt—or God knows what else—on it, then finally gave in to the pressure. “What?”
“Just thinking.”
“Well, do it out loud, okay? I’m starting to feel self-conscious.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’ve always loved animals. How come you didn’t go for treating the cuddly kind?”
“Me? Cuddly animals? Look at my dog.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about him.”
“What?” Her shoulders straightened. She didn’t sit still for anyone messing with Simba’s psyche. On the off chance that Jack intended to insult him, she reached out to cover Simba’s ears—then remembered she’d left him back at the ranch with Tori.
Jack opened his mouth, stared, then laughed.
“You’re so used to that mutt being by your side, you forgot he wasn’t.”
She shrugged. “Simba’s my pal.”
“I heard you had another pal.”
She glanced at him. “Michael?”
“Is Michael the fiancé?”
“Ex.”
Jack’s eyes bored into hers for another long moment, then he tipped his hat back on his forehead and nodded. “Guess that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why I keep seeing glimpses of vulnerability in your eyes. You’re pining.”
“I’m not pining for Michael.”
“No?” He brushed a curl back from her forehead. “Then who?”
What in the world was going on here? It was as though he was asking about the two of them. But there hadn’t been anything between them for ten long years. He’d seen to that.
“It’s not you, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’d be ridiculous.”
“Would it? Maybe I’ve been pining for you.”
She was so stunned by that statement the words that jumped into her brain were out before she could stop them. “Then why didn’t you fight for me?”
“You’re the one who left.”
“What did you expect after I saw you playing kissy face with Lanette?”
“Did you ever stop to think you might have misunderstood what you saw?”
“A woman crawling all over my fiancé? Lips locked? Hands groping? Seemed pretty self-explanatory to me. Besides, if you thought there was a misunderstanding, you could have come after me, explained.”
“Life’s not a fairy tale, sugar bear.”
Her stomach was twisted in knots so tight she wanted to scream. “God, you make me mad.”
“Believe me, sugar, you haven’t got that market cornered. And as far as coming after you, I didn’t know where you were.”
“That’s a lame excuse. You could have asked.”
“Right. Like you didn’t swear everyone to secrecy. Your gal pals don’t mind passing along gossip, but when it comes to you, they’ve got lockjaw.”
“And my mother?”
He shrugged. “I asked once. She told me she had to respect what you’d told her in confidence. I never brought it up again.”
“Then how’d you know about Michael? And get it in your mind that I was a scientist?”
“When I moved back to Hope Valley, Anna mentioned you a time or two.”
Sunny didn’t doubt that. Anna had made no bones about feeling that Sunny should have looked the other way ten years ago.
She glanced toward the horizon, where the sun was beginning to set. She should never have started this conversation. She had a new life, was a completely different person now. There wasn’t any sense in re-hashing the past. Jack had married Lanette and had a child with her. Misunderstanding or not, that was a pretty huge step for a man to take so soon after professing to love her.
“We’ve gotten off the subject,” she said, tucking her medical case in the back of the Suburban and shutting the door. “I’ll get ahold of Kat Durant tomorrow and check out Doc Levin’s clinic, though I’m fairly certain he won’t have the type of equipment I’ll need.”
She glanced at her watch. It was late afternoon in California, but that didn’t really matter. Marty Zelweger practically lived at the lab. Chances were very good Sunny would catch him at no matter what time she called. She could trust Marty to be discreet.
“Let me make a quick call. I know a guy who can probably help us out.”
She turned on her cell phone, pleased to see she had reception, and punched in the number of the lab.
Marty answered on the second ring.
“I figured you’d still be working,” Sunny said, knowing she didn’t need to identify herself.
“It’s only four o’clock.”
“Yes. And you’ve probably been there since four a.m. Listen, I need a favor. I’m in Texas, and I’ve got a situation with a couple of dead cattle.”
“I thought you were on vacation, babe.”
“You know me. I’m nearly as bad as you. Can’t keep my fingers out of cow dung.” She glanced at Jack, then turned her back to him as she explained the situation to Marty, detailing what she’d noted in her examination. “I’d like to keep this one quiet for a bit—it’s in my hometown. I’ve got serum and tissue samples I’ll overnight to you. In the meantime, what are the chances you can get me some decent lab supplies and test equipment?”
“It’s doable, but you’ll owe me three bags of jelly beans.”
“I’ll buy you ten.” Marty loved his jelly beans. The expensive kind.
“In that case, I’ll be your slave for life. Let’s see. What I’m thinking isn’t exactly in the George Washington code of honesty, but we’ll work with it…. There’s a supply lab in Houston. I can put in a will-call and have them hold th
e order instead of mailing it. I’ll tell them you’re on your way in from vacation and will pick it up.”
“You’re sure they’ll release it?”
“I’ll clear it. Just show your credentials. As far as I’m concerned, you’re headed toward California. If you happen to double back to other parts of Texas because, say, you forgot your suitcase or something, I guess I wouldn’t know that.”
“You’re a peach, Marty.”
He sighed. “That’s me. So when’s some lady going to get smart and take a bite?”
“Probably when you get out of that office and socialize.”
JACK LISTENED TO SUNNY as she laughed and spoke on the phone. The setting sun caught her hair and turned the curls a rich saffron. She was slimmer than he remembered, and with her back to him, his gaze naturally settled below her waist. Big mistake. His hands fairly itched to smooth over the curve of her derriere, where snug denim hugged her flesh like the skin on a nectarine. That was an itch he was not going to scratch.
Something that felt very close to jealousy gripped his gut and twisted when he noted how friendly she was with Marty. It was stupid, he knew, but that didn’t loosen the knot in his stomach.
This had been a hell of a day. First, the jolt of Sunny showing up on his ranch after all these years; then, Tori’s out-of-proportion reaction to getting gum in her hair; next, a second dead cow; and now, his annoyance over Sunny Carmichael having a simple, flirtatious phone conversation with another man. Hell, she was practically a stranger. What should he care whom she laughed with on the phone?
She had a life in California, a life he wasn’t part of. Just because she was back in Hope Valley for a while didn’t mean he had any claims on her.
The direction of his thoughts made him pause. Did he want a claim on her? Ten years had passed. He’d never forgotten her, never really gotten over her.
But she wasn’t a woman he could trust.
When the going got tough, Sunny ran. He had a daughter to think about now. He couldn’t chance letting Tori get close to another woman who didn’t have sticking power, who might abandon her as her mother had.
And, damn it, he was getting way ahead of himself here. Sunny had only been back for a day. It just went to show what a powerful effect she had on him.