Courted by a Cowboy

by Mindy Neff

  “She has?” Dru squeaked in bewilderment. “Well, I mean, she goes out the doggie door to do her business, but she never dawdles. I’ve a nice bed of petunias and zinnias, and a soft patch of grass for her.”

  “I’m sure you have a beautiful yard. Debbie just picked up a small stone.” Because it seemed important, Sunny added, “It could have happened anywhere—perhaps on one of your trips to town?” She swabbed the little dog’s paw with antiseptic.

  “Why, I believe you could be right. I’ve told the city council that we need better maintenance people over at the senior citizens’ center. I teach aerobics at the center to a bunch of old coots.”

  Sunny glanced up and quickly masked her astonishment. Mrs. Taggatt had to be pushing ninety.

  She smiled, then spread the pads of Debbie’s paw and plucked out the stone with a pair of tweezers. Dru’s head kept blocking the light as she scrutinized every step of her beloved little dog’s procedure. They were practically cheek-to-cheek, the delicate scent of lavender wafting off the older woman’s powdered skin.

  “You’re very gentle,” Dru commented. “Debbie never would sit still like this for Doc Levin. I suspect part of it was that young tart he took up with. Debbie didn’t like her a bit.”

  Sunny was sure she didn’t need to hear these details, but Dru chattered on.

  “She worked as his receptionist, you know. Lucinda was her name. Twenty-three years younger than him, too. He was worse than a strutting peacock—showing her off all over town like he’d found the fountain of youth. He even started coming to my aerobics class, but in my opinion, he’d have been better off to have one of those vanity doctors over in Dallas stick a big tube in him and muck out the fat.”

  Muck out the fat? Sunny hadn’t heard of that technique.

  She wasn’t keen on encouraging gossip, but something had been nagging at her while she’d been alone in the clinic.

  Jack’s cattle began dying after Stanley Levin disappeared.

  “Do you know why he left so suddenly?” She palpated Debbie’s paws and checked for abnormalities. “I can’t imagine a professional just abandoning his clinic.”

  “Oh, he didn’t own this place. Everything in here was bought and paid for by Millicent Lloyd.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that,” Sunny stated. Surely her mother or Jack would have told her. Especially Anna, who’d made several none-too-subtle hints that Sunny should step into Levin’s shoes while she was here—that it would be the nice thing to do.

  But Sunny already had a job, a career. And it paid more than triple what this clinic probably brought in.

  “It’s not common knowledge. Millie’s real closemouthed over what she does with her money. As for why Dr. Levin disappeared—that’s anybody’s guess. He owes money all over town.” Dru leaned close and lowered her voice as though fearing someone would overhear. “I think Lucinda got him into experimenting with drugs. Then again, maybe she conked him in the head and sank him in the river.”

  Well, that was a chilling thought. “Did anyone look for him after he left?”

  “Not as far as I know. He didn’t have any kin in town. No real friends, either. Before that woman came, he just doctored animals and went about his business.”

  Sunny decided she’d have Storm check into it. As awful as it sounded, she’d prefer to believe Jack’s cattle were the victims of foul play rather than plagued with disease. Then again, maybe she was merely grasping at straws.

  The most frustrating cases to deal with were herds that were asymptomatic. Some strains of bacteria were sleepers, hiding away in cells where standard tests wouldn’t detect them.

  A careless dismissal by an owner or a vet could cause national chaos.

  And Sunny certainly didn’t want her name at the bottom of a health certification form if that happened. She’d have to kiss her career goodbye.

  She scratched Debbie’s tummy, then lifted the tiny dog off the table and gave her a cuddle, just for the pure pleasure of it.

  “You’re all better now, pup.” Passing the quivering dog back to Dru, she said, “There’s no infection, just a bit of a bruise. Her paw might be tender for a couple of days, but she’ll be just fine.”

  “Oh, thank you, dear. I’m so relieved. I thought you’d have to do surgery.”

  “Not this time. Do you need anything else? Is she current with her shots?”

  “Oh, yes. I mark the dates on the calendar. I want to keep my girl healthy and happy. What do I owe you?”

  I have no idea. “Um, don’t worry about it now. Just write down your name and address out front and we’ll…bill you.”

  Sunny didn’t mind helping out in a pinch, and certainly wouldn’t turn her back on an animal in need. But taking on this private practice wasn’t feasible, no matter how often her mother brought up the subject.

  Time was slipping through her fingers like fine grains of Texas silt. She couldn’t ask for an extension on her vacation because of the seminar on large-animal infectious diseases she was due to conduct in Washington the first week of August.

  How ironic. She was considered the best in her field, a virtual wonder in the industry to have attained this stature at such a young age. Yet on the case that mattered most, one that could affect her entire hometown and the people she loved, she was stumped.

  She woke each morning with a sense of dread that this would be the day they’d find another dead cow—or mass death.

  More than anything, she didn’t want to be the one forced to call in reinforcements—to seriously damage Jack’s future.

  WHEN SUNNY GOT BACK to the ranch, Jack and Tori were near the barn, bending over something on the ground. She couldn’t tell what, because Scotty was in her way, holding the reins of Jack’s saddled horse.

  At the sound of the engine, Tori jumped up, then sprinted toward the Suburban, her blond ponytail flying, her face ravaged by tears.

  Panic, swift and fierce, came out of nowhere, engulfing her before she could think. Dear God, don’t let it be Simba.

  She slammed the truck into Park and leaped out, then barreled straight at Tori and swept the girl into her arms.

  “What? Sugar, calm down. What’s wrong? Where’s Simba?”

  “H-he’s in the b-barn.” Tori sniffed and took a breath. “Daddy said he should stay there ’cause he was licking and trying to help the bird.”

  Utter relief made Sunny dizzy. Her brain finally cleared enough to focus. “What bird?”

  “The one that mean old stray cat got. It’s hurt. Can you fix it? It bit Daddy.”

  “Who did? The cat or the bird?”

  “The bird.”

  She set Tori down but held on to her hand. Even though she knew the little girl’s tears weren’t over Simba, her own legs still felt like overcooked linguini. “Let’s go see.”

  When they reached the barn, Scotty had taken the horse into a stable and Jack was trying to corral the bird, muttering a string of swear words as it continued to evade him.

  He looked up with a strained, exasperated smile. “I’m not having much luck here.”

  Sunny crouched beside him. The bright green bird flapped one wing, then listed drunkenly, making one heck of a flutter but only managing to move in a circle.

  “It’s a wild parrot.” She scooted closer and rested on her knees.

  “Careful,” he warned. “Don’t let that pretty exterior fool you. It bites.”

  “It’s scared.” Carefully, expertly, she managed to wrap her hands around the parrot’s body, gently folding its wings. Part of the beak was broken off, but the blunted edge indicated that was an old injury. “Okay, buddy, okay.”

  She stroked and soothed and held the bird close to her chest, felt its tiny heart hammering. Evidently, this was her day to brush up on her small-animal veterinary skills.

  Examining a frightened, injured bird wasn’t easy, but after a while, either sensing Sunny could be trusted—or feeling just flat-out exhausted—the parrot finally gave up the fight, allowing he
r to assess the damage.

  “The wing’s definitely broken.” That presented a challenge, since her equipment was better suited for working on large animals.

  “Can you fix it?” Tori asked. She was kneeling next to her dad, leaning forward to peer at the bird. Her tears had dried; now her brown eyes showed compassion and worry.

  “I think so, but I’ll require a couple of assistants. Do you mind parting with that rubber band in your hair, sugar?”

  Without a word, Tori pulled it off, causing her blond hair to tumble past her waist.

  “Good girl. Hang on to it for a few minutes. Jack, I’ll need you to hold the bird.”

  “Are you crazy? That beak’s lethal.”

  “It is not. It’s broken. Just hush up and put on your gloves.” Normally, even she wouldn’t be handling a wild bird with bare hands, but she didn’t tell him that. With the parrot having a blunted beak, she didn’t imagine anyone would get too bloody in the fray. And besides, Jack’s annoyance was too endearing to resist.

  He snatched his heavy suede gloves out of his back pocket and pulled them on. “Damn right I’ll put on my gloves. Now what?”

  “Now I’ll gently shift the parrot into your hands and you’ll work on putting a little honey in your voice.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he held out his cupped hands as she transferred the bird. As soon as she let go, it immediately tried to bite him.

  “See?” he said, sounding gravely put-upon.

  “Don’t squeeze.”

  “I’m not. But if I don’t hold it tight, it’ll get away. It’s a better escape artist than Houdini.”

  “Do you want me to hold him, Daddy?”

  Sunny raised a brow, waited for his decision, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. His masculine feathers were good and ruffled now. She recalled her mother’s words about men and their fragile egos. Maybe Mama wasn’t so old-fashioned after all.

  “I’ve got it, darlin’,” he grumbled.

  Sunny worked as quickly as she could, since she didn’t have any meds to relax the bird. She doubted there was even a conversion table in her medical books that cross-referenced bovine tranquilizer with the correct dosage for a parrot. Guessing wasn’t an option. The bird would probably relax right into cardiac arrest.

  Using one of the healthy bones in the bird’s wing as a splint for the broken one, she carefully aligned them like toothpicks, then wrapped Tori’s hair band around them both. Every so often, the parrot craned its head around and tried to take a chunk out of Jack’s gloved finger. He didn’t utter a sound.

  “That should do it.” She gently scooped the parrot from Jack’s palms and stroked a finger over the brightly colored feathers.

  He hissed out a breath. “The thing acts like a spoiled house cat when you hold it.”

  “I’ve got magic hands.”

  His gaze snapped to her. He’d told her that when she was younger. When they’d made love. You’ve got magic hands, sugar bear. You put a spell on me when you touch me like that.

  Sunny broke eye contact. “Uh, do you have some kind of cage we can put the parrot in while it heals?”

  He stood, tugged at his hat and looked around, as if expecting a cage to materialize out of thin air.

  Like magic.

  Great. Now the word and the memory were going to stick in her mind, like that vacation-sex thing, keeping her up at night. Awake and wanting.

  She was sorely tempted to dunk herself in the water trough.

  “What about the one in Grandma’s garden?” Tori asked.

  Jack’s mother had passed away well before Tori’s birth, but he’d obviously told his daughter about the grandmother she’d never known. Sunny could picture father and daughter tending roses and azaleas while he recounted stories of a woman who’d died too young.

  “I imagine that’d work,” Jack said, looking toward the front of the house, where colorful flowers thrived despite the hot July sun. “I was going to put plants in it, but we might as well use it for the purpose it’s meant for.”

  He strode toward the house and Tori leaned close to Sunny. “Daddy likes to go to yard sales. That’s where he got the birdcage.” As she spoke, she gently ran a finger over the parrot’s head. The bird flinched, but then settled down and let her touch.

  “You’re very good with animals,” Sunny commented.

  “They talk to me with their eyes.”

  Sunny didn’t find that statement strange. From the time she was young, she’d felt a connection with animals that defied explanation.

  “I knew you could fix Dini,” Tori murmured.

  “Dini?”

  She grinned. “Like Houdini. Just shorter.”

  Sunny had noticed that Tori assigned her animals shortened names—like Beauty for the beautiful foal, and now Dini. She had no idea why the thought clicked in her head, but it almost seemed that the little girl made the easiest, quickest choices, as if she didn’t trust her imagination or allow herself to think much further than the moment.

  “Can we keep Dini?”

  “Only until his wing is healed, sugar. He looks like a pet, but he’s used to being wild and flying free. He’d be sad if he had to stay in a cage for the rest of his life.”

  “I don’t want him to be sad. Do you think he could learn to talk?”

  “Oh, wouldn’t that be a mess.” Sunny laughed, and the bird squirmed in her hands for a minute, then tucked his head down and grew still. “Can’t you just imagine a flock of wild parrots sitting on someone’s backyard fence, then flying around town repeating the gossip they’d heard?”

  Tori giggled. “Probably people would get real mad at one another. If Dini came to our yard, he’d be saying Beau’s cuss words.”

  “And begging pardon,” Sunny added, tickled at the prospect. “So, how did Dini manage to put himself in the cat’s path?”

  “He flew too low and hit the side of the barn. He probably got dirt in his eye and couldn’t see. I thought he was in a coma or something, because he just sat on the ground. Then he started to walk, and that old tom ran right over and grabbed him in his mouth. It scared me so bad that I cried and yelled, and he dropped the bird.”

  “You didn’t get scratched, did you?”

  “No. Daddy came running.”

  “Good.” Evidently, this bird was the klutz in his flock, with a broken beak, poor navigational and reaction skills.

  And maybe she was wrong about Tori’s imagination; maybe she was snatching scenarios out of the air because she couldn’t stand not knowing the answer to a puzzle. That and her innate need to fix anything broken.

  “So, have you been checking on Violet and Beauty?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes. Beauty grew last night. I just know it. I tried to put a mark on the stall—the way Beau does for me on the kitchen wall. It shows how much taller I’m getting. But Beauty wouldn’t stand still, and I didn’t know if I should measure from the top of her ears or just her head. Plus, she kept wiggling her ears.”

  “Those wily ears’ll goof you up every time. When we get Dini settled, I’ll show you how we measure so you can keep a good record of her growth.”

  AS JACK ROUNDED THE HOUSE, carrying the birdcage, what he saw caused his steps to slow and his heart to stutter.

  Sunny and Tori, looking like mother and daughter with their blond heads close together, sat on the ground, Tori talking earnestly and gesturing with her hands, Sunny listening.

  He’d never seen his daughter respond to anyone—not even her own mother—the way she did to Sunny.

  He cautioned himself not to get caught up in emotions and lose sight of reality. He appreciated the attention she’d lavished on Tori, was moved beyond words as his daughter began to emerge from her shell, but at the same time their closeness made him nervous.

  Sunny wasn’t here to stay.

  He had an idea that his daughter was already forming an emotional attachment that could easily break her heart. Hell, he fully understood and sympathized,
because he was doing the same thing. To be around Sunny for more than five minutes and not be captivated by her charm and want her there all the time was damn hard.

  She was as petite as ever, and hardly looked a day older than in the picture he still carried in his wallet of the two of them at her high-school prom. But there were changes in her, too. She held her cards close to her chest, kept him off balance, maneuvered him into talking about himself, yet didn’t offer many details about her life.

  For her to have come to his ranch, to be confronted every day with a tangible reminder of his past with Lanette, must have been difficult. He’d hurt Sunny badly, and even though he’d apologized, the words couldn’t erase what had been done. Scars never faded completely.

  Sunny had shown class and strength by coming here, parking herself under his roof, working like crazy to save his hide—or determine if it needed saving.

  He would cut off his right arm before he’d hurt her again—in any way. But he was walking a shaky fence here.

  He was trying to be a decent guy and respect whatever limits she set, but damned if he could read her signals. First she’d told him he wasn’t good for her, and then she’d changed horses in the middle of the stream and started looking at him as if he were dessert and the only one invited to her party.

  It bugged him that he couldn’t figure her out—and that he was still so attracted to her he could hardly see straight.

  But damn it all, she had him as confused as a goat on Astro Turf. He ought to just toss his good intentions out the window and take her to bed, which was what he’d been aching to do from the minute he’d set eyes on her standing by his landing strip with her goofy-looking dog.

  He watched her touch her forehead to Tori’s, still cradling the vicious bird in her hands. She was familiar, yet different, and that intrigued him. Slightly reserved at times, definitely opinionated, quick to laugh, though. She’d always had a gift for working with animals, but it was more refined now; her confidence, skill and intelligence were clearly evident as she moved among herds of cattle that could flatten her with a swish of a tail.