“I guess I was a little harsh in there,” Chris said.
“You think?” Mary Jo replied. “Between you and that horse, I’m not sure who I was more scared of, or which one was nastier.”
Chris pointed a finger at her and snapped, “You had no business going into that stall.” She raised her shoulders. “And you have no right to be sarcastic, let alone stand there with a righteous attitude.”
“I seriously don’t want to talk to you about it. I said I was sorry.” Annoyed, Mary Jo turned her head. She didn’t want to look at Chris. She wanted to stay angry. She knew she was being unprofessional and immature, but she was being forced to eat humble pie and she didn’t like it one bit.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Chris shrug, turn around, and walk back into the barn. Mary Jo overheard her parting shot, “The hell with her, let’s hope I don’t have any reason to need her back.” Chris scooped Sadie up just before she disappeared into the barn.
Mary Jo stayed at the truck and was happy to see Doc come out a short time later.
“Ready?” he asked.
She took a deep breath and nodded in reply. She got into the truck and let herself finally relax as Doc started down the drive.
“Chris come out and talk to you?” he asked.
“Yeah, talk.” Mary Jo snorted. “She’s as personable as that bitch mare. And don’t act all innocent. You probably sent her out. I can’t imagine she’d do that without a push.”
“Now, now, I told you, Chris is Chris. She doesn’t socialize with anybody that I know of. Since Bill died anyway. She’s a loner, and her animals are her family. You can’t blame her for being a little protective of the horses.” He glanced her way and added, “Playing vet in school is completely different than what we do out here, MJ. Remember, our clients are the mainstay of our practice. We have to treat them and their horses with the utmost respect, no matter how infuriating or belittling they may be to us. They depend on us as professionals to assist them in times of need, no matter if it’s for routine injections or major surgery. We can’t afford to be cocky. That only gets us into trouble.”
“Guess I didn’t make a good impression on the first client you introduced me to.” Mary Jo glanced at him sideways and frowned sheepishly. Without pointing a finger at her mistakes, Doc had managed his own version of a reprimand. One she’d have to take to heart if she wanted to succeed in this business.
Doc’s voice brought her to attention. “There’s always that one horse that scares the living shit out of you. At least you got that over with.” He reached over to pat her shoulder.
“Surely that hasn’t happened to you. I’ve seen you work on horses that I wouldn’t have even thought of touching without a tranquilizer,” Mary Jo said in disbelief.
“Do you remember Scheller’s Appaloosa, Cinnamon? She was that horse for me. She charged me, stepped on, kicked, and bit me every chance she got. I broke four ribs and an ankle one time from her slamming me into the wall.” Doc tapped the side of his chest.
“But getting back to Chris. In all honesty,” Doc said, “she’s probably the hardest of my clients to impress and the most difficult to get to know. I know very little about her past except that she was a runaway. I only found that out after a long night of foaling.”
He stopped the truck at the end of the driveway and checked for traffic. Finding the way clear, he drove on. “She had two mares start to foal in the middle of the night one year. One delivered twins, and both of them died. Chris was heartbroken. I don’t think she would have normally broken down, but it had been a long night and she was exhausted. We had a couple of beers, and she talked a little about Bill and how she’d come to know him. Mostly how she missed him.”
“God, I hope she doesn’t tell the world about what an ass I made of myself.” Mary Jo was suddenly worried.
“Don’t be too concerned. Chris Martel has a lot of class. She’s not one to spread gossip.”
Mary Jo stared out the side window. Doc had given her a lot to think about. She absently raised her hand to her neck. “Shit! I think I dropped my stethoscope in that horse’s stall.”
“You want to go back to get it?”
“No way! I have a spare I can use until we have to come out here again.”
Doc’s laughter echoed in the truck’s cab as he drove down the road.
After leaving Went Farm, she and Doc had a call to look at a tendon injury on an Arabian. Shortly afterward, they did pregnancy checks at a barn full of Morgan horses.
Two-and-a-half hours later, as they prepared for the next farm on the list, Donna called with an emergency colic in the adjoining county to the south. Fortunately the patient was a young horse with mild gas colic. From her training, Mary Jo knew young horses tended to be big babies when they experienced belly pain for the first time. A shot of Banamine, a pain reliever, gave the colt quick relief.
She and Doc drove forty-three miles before arriving at their next call, a nasty heel cut on a polo pony. In addition to treating several more minor injuries, they visited four more barns, each close to an hour apart, to administer fall vaccines. The last call took place at a hunter/jumper barn where fourteen horses needed examinations for health certificates. They administered another round of vaccines to enable the horses to cross the various state lines and go on to the Florida jumping circuit the following week.
When they returned to the clinic at seven o’clock that evening, Mary Jo helped Doc unload blood samples, the X-ray machine, and the dental tools. Although thoroughly exhausted, she restocked the truck despite Doc’s urging to go home. She ignored her grumbling stomach and complaining muscles, figuring doing the work now would help her learn how she wanted to stock her own rig when the time came.
She and Doc checked the hospitalized horse to make sure the bandage remained secure and the gelding comfortable. Donna had already cleaned his stall, fed, and watered him, so there was little else to do.
Doc thanked her for a good day’s work and sent her home. With no disagreement this time, she stiffly got into her truck and began the drive to her apartment. As she passed the local food mart, she remembered that aside from a six-pack of beer and a bottle of wine, her fridge was as barren as her cupboards. She slowed, turned around in a convenient driveway, picked up what she needed at the store, and returned to the road.
Driving with her right hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the window, she reviewed the day’s work. She thought she’d done well. Doc had introduced her to several clients, and they all had seemed very willing to accept her into their barns. He’d even consulted with her on numerous occasions and allowed her to vocally practice the medicine she’d spent so many years learning.
Unbidden, her thoughts turned to Chris Martel. Why did things go so badly at the Went Farm? Okay, it was a dumb move, going into that stall. Despite the tension between the two of them, Mary Jo couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Chris. She was completely intrigued at how her eyes had turned so many shades of blue and how difficult it was to keep from staring at her.
“Just stop it,” Mary Jo muttered. “You don’t even know if she’s gay, and why would you even be attracted to someone like her? You’d have to be crazy.” Though the weird jealousy still disturbed her, she shrugged off the feeling as first-time jitters. “She’ll probably never let me on her farm again anyway.”
Mary Jo arrived home and unloaded the truck. She trudged upstairs to her apartment above a garage, and in her attempt to open the door, dropped her keys twice and the groceries once. She didn’t even bother cursing as she gave in to her weary clumsiness. She put the grocery bags on the floor and, with a sigh and both hands free, turned the key and pushed at the same time. The door opened, and she went inside the hot, stuffy apartment.
She promptly raised the windows to let in some fresh air and walked into the bedroom, shedding boots and clothes as she went. Her only thought was taking a hot shower.
An involuntary groan escaped her as the steaming spray washed
away the day’s dirt, sweat, and horsehair and eased her aching muscles. She stood under the water until the temperature ran tepid and then got out. She toweled her hair partially dry and considered it sufficient.
Although it was still fairly early in the evening, she decided to lie on the bed for just a few minutes to give her back and legs a rest. She would fix herself some supper after that. Her eyes closed as she relaxed, and in a minute she was sound asleep.
Chapter 4
Chris sat at her office desk trying to concentrate on updating the horses’ medical records. The ceiling fan rotated rapidly, but it only stirred up dust and moved heated air around the room. The dogs lay on the floor panting in their sleep. Although the room had an air-conditioning unit, she had opted to leave it off unless the room got unbearably hot. At the moment the temperature wasn’t far from oppressive.
“She’s got nerve being mad at me.” Chris was still irritated. “She’s the damned idiot who decided to saunter into the stall.” She recalled the moment and grinned. “Old Mad Hattie sure scared the crap out of her though. Serves her right.”
Chris finished the entry in Sierra’s file and announced to the dogs, “All right, let’s go swimming.” The dogs jumped up and sped out the door before she stood up from her chair. She chuckled as she followed them outside.
Her three companions trotted in front of her. The high grass on either side fairly often hid them from view as they followed a trail leading beyond the pastures. The dogs broke into a run when they reached the edge of the tree line, on their way to a five-acre, spring-fed pond where the water was cool even on the hottest days.
Chris ambled along the path that Bill had once told her was a former logging trail that wound through old-growth hemlock and oak trees. Someone had logged the back hundred acres of cherry, beech, and maple trees before Bill owned the farm. By the middle of next month, the daily visits of Chris and the dogs would wear the path down to dirt, except where fallen pine needles and leaves remained underfoot.
A woodpecker’s busy sound as well as the mew of a catbird accompanied her as she followed the path.
She heard the dogs splashing in the water even before she walked out of the pines near the pond and caught sight of them. Cedar and Cagney had found a favorite stick and were playing keep-away in the shallows. Laughing at their antics, Chris stripped off her clothes and boots and dove into the pond from the old barrel dock.
She swam out to the middle and called Cagney and Cedar to follow. She didn’t expect Sadie to join them, as she’d noticed her trying to catch a frog in a few cattails lining the rim of the pond.
When the Labs were about ten feet from her, she dove underwater and swam beneath them. After she resurfaced behind the dogs, she giggled quietly, shook her head, and wiped water from her eyes as the dogs tried to catch her again. She and the Labs played this game every time they visited the pond.
Once they tired of trying to catch Chris, the dogs swam to shore and sniffed around the edge. She floated over an underground artesian spring and relished the cool water that slipped over her body. She couldn’t imagine having to wear a bathing suit or swim in water that reeked of chlorine and God knows what else.
Chris swam to the pond’s edge, stood, and delighted in the coolness, but knew the sensation would only be temporary. She got out of the water and lay naked in the grass with her hands behind her head and her eyes closed. It wasn’t long before the sun warmed her completely and dried the drops of water clinging to her skin. A slight breeze moving through the trees brought to her the scents of pine and musky leaves.
She stretched her muscles, relaxed, and started to doze even when the dogs eventually tired of playing in the water and came to rest next to her.
An hour passed before she opened her eyes and got dressed. “All right,” she said, giving in to the thought of impending chores with a sigh. “Let’s head back.”
She toyed with the idea of going into the city as she and the dogs made their way down the path. She would see how she felt after chores.
Refreshed from her swim, she returned to the barn. The dogs went into the office to their beds. They circled several times, curled up, and fell asleep while she headed to Stetson’s stall. The Paint stallion had been dozing, but he woke when she entered his stall carrying his halter.
“Hey, big guy, want to come out and do some work?” She closed the door behind her and approached him.
The horse perked up his ears as Chris talked to him and put the halter over his head. She led him out to the cross ties adjacent to the tack room, snapped a nylon strap to either side of his halter, and left him standing in the middle of the aisle. She pulled a currycomb from her grooming bucket and began making circles on his hide. Stetson cocked a hind leg and relaxed as she massaged him with the brushes.
She loved the horse dearly. When Stetson was four months old, Bill had presented the colt to her as a surprise to celebrate their third year together. Since Stetson was a stallion, she made sure to give him hands-on attention every day. She had trained him to work in the round pen, using slight signals of her body to encourage cooperation and trust, and eventually got the big horse to accept her on his back without much fuss.
Chris went to the tack room, pulled on leather chaps over her shorts, and grabbed the bridle and saddle. She worked efficiently and had Stetson tacked up within minutes. She led him to the indoor riding ring, mounted, and began putting him through a memorized exercise pattern. She started him at the walk, asking him to flex his neck to either side and bend his body around her leg.
After ten minutes, and based on his flexibility, she had sufficiently warmed him up. She pushed him into a trot and repeated the same exercises. As he relaxed more, she squeezed with her thighs. He began a nice, ground-covering trot. At this point, she and Stetson were both sweating. She urged him into a slow canter and rode in wide circles that grew gradually smaller and then widened again. When they were both breathing hard, she slowed the stallion to a walk for ten minutes, dismounted, and led him back to the cross ties.
Chris removed the saddle and bridle and set about hosing the sweat off Stetson. A few minutes later, a clean, wet horse stood in front of her. Once he cooled down, she led him back to his stall. He immediately dropped into his bedding and rolled with great pleasure after she released him. He stood and took a long drink of water. After glancing at her, he turned and walked out into his pasture.
The oppressive heat was finally giving way to an evening breeze when Chris finished her chores and checked on Ruby and Sierra. Satisfied, she turned toward the house.
The large, white, two-storied house shadowed the driveway as the sun sank in the west. Built in the 1800s, the rooms had been small and the ceilings low until shortly after she moved in with Bill. He decided to put on an addition, tear down walls, and make the floor plan more open. He had lived by “the bigger, the better” motto.
There were now three bathrooms, one on the first floor and two on the second. She’d closed Bill’s bedroom and bathroom after his death and rarely entered either room. She missed him every time she passed those doors.
During the remodeling, Bill had allowed Chris to design her own bedroom, which was located at the back of the house. The room had a door to an outside balcony, as well as floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides. She loved waking to the sound of birds and feeling the breeze blowing past the curtains. As she lay on her king-sized bed at night, she’d watch for shooting stars and listen to the hooting of owls or yipping of coyotes. Most of the time, she had room to stretch out without accidentally bumping or kicking a dog.
Calling the girls, she opened the back door to the mudroom and walked in behind them as they trotted through. She took her boots off and emptied her pockets of a knife, horse treats, and a wad of cotton from Ruby’s poultice. “Huh, don’t remember stuffing that in there,” she said aloud. “Oh, that was just about the time Wonder Girl decided to get herself in trouble.”
Chris opened a bottle of beer, took a pull, an
d let the cool liquid wash over her tongue and down her throat. After dishing out the dogs’ food, she left them to eat in the kitchen while she went upstairs to shower.
Afterward as she finished her beer she thought about what to wear. She finally decided on blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt. She evaluated her choices as she stood in front of the mirror. The shirt pressed snugly against her breasts and accentuated her firm stomach. Her tanned face and bright eyes alleviated the need for makeup. She did, however, place a few drops of patchouli oil on her wrists and between her breasts. Before zipping up her pants, she dribbled a line of oil right below her belly button to just above her black pubic curls. Some hand lotion to soften her calluses, and she was finished and ready to hit the road.
A low thrum of excitement began in her belly and continued southward. Her work normally clouded thoughts of sex, often leaving her too tired to even use her own fingers to take care of business. But tonight she hoped someone else might suit her need.
Satisfied with her appearance, she trotted down the stairs. The dogs had licked their bowls clean, so she picked them up and returned them to the shelf in the mudroom.
“Okay girls, you’re in charge tonight,” she said. “No ordering out for pizza or calling the 1-900 line again. I’ll be home later.” She grabbed her keys from the counter and walked out the door.
She drove Bill’s old Ford Taurus. The need for discretion prevented her from driving her truck into the city as it had the farm’s name and logo on it. As she drove, she listened to a Melissa Etheridge CD and hummed along to the music.
Laurie Salzer - A Kiss Before Dawn Page 3