“I’m fine by myself. Plus, I don’t think I’ll ever find a woman who would understand me and want to be around all my beasties for any length of time.” After a moment’s thought, Chris added, “Much less permanently.”
“Well, you know there’s a new lady vet in town.” Frances’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I heard she’s a cutie.”
“Uh-huh, we’ve already met.” Chris pushed her plate away and took a gulp of coffee. She stood up and headed toward the door. “We should get going if you want all of your fencing back up today.”
“I get the feeling that you’re avoiding talking about her.”
“Nope, there’s nothing to talk about. Now come on, the dogs are waiting.”
“Land sakes alive, you can’t sit still for a single minute. All right, let me get my boots.” Frances got up from her chair, stuck the dishes in the sink, and walked to a bench beside the door. She pulled her boots on as Chris stared absently out the screen door. “Chris, if you’re tired today, we can fix the fence another day.”
Chris turned to face Frances. “I’m fine, really. This heat sometimes wears me down a little, but after a breakfast like that, I’m raring to go.” She knew Frances worried about her. While she appreciated the concern, she thought it was mostly due to having no one else around.
Frances finished lacing her boots and got up. “Okay, let’s go. Time’s a-wasting.” She grabbed a couple of bottles of water from a shelf next to the door.
Chris walked to the barn with Frances and unloaded the grain. The dogs lay together in the dirt drive, panting from their play.
Frances started the Gator and drove the machine to the front of the barn. She went into the shop and grabbed the tool duffel bag. Chris soon joined her to help gather the tools they would need for the job ahead.
Chris threw the filled duffel into the back of the Gator along with extra posts, a shovel, chainsaw, bar oil, and gas. Satisfied she had everything they would need, she hopped up next to Frances who headed the Gator into the fields. The dogs trotted lazily behind them with their tongues lolling.
Two old Thoroughbreds followed the Gator. After grazing nearby for a while, the horses found a huge oak tree to stand under. The tree’s canopy was so dense with leaves not a single ray of sunlight penetrated down to the resting Thoroughbreds. With their eyes at half-mast and their lips drooping, the only movement from the horses was an occasional swish of a tail.
A wide, slate bottomed creek meandered through the pasture. Because of the heat and the recent rains, clay and algae slicked the shallows and sides. Chris saw no sign of the fence that the raging storm water had pulled free from the posts on either side. She shoved a pair of fencing pliers in her back pocket and hoisted a roll of wire onto her shoulder. She slid down the bank and waded to the other side, barely able to keep her balance on the slippery bottom.
“Frances, you better sit there and let me fix this. It’s dicey walking through here,” she called. Her foot suddenly slid out from under her. She yipped, fighting to keep upright. “That was close.”
“Careful, Chris.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Chris got to the other side without further incident and examined the damage. “It’s not too bad,” she called back. Using the fencing pliers, she began pulling staples and prepared the remaining fence for connection to the roll of wire she had brought along. She paused a moment to look across the water at Frances, who had walked away to give her horses some treats and affection.
The sound of running water filled Chris’s ears, loud enough to make conversation nearly impossible without yelling back and forth. It amused her to no end that Frances thought it simple for Chris to go out and find someone to spend her life with. It certainly wasn’t that easy for her. With Sky, she had a physical relationship, not an emotional one.
Although Sky had hinted numerous times about wanting to go further, Chris had no desire to take the next step. In all honesty, she didn’t know much about Sky, other than her generosity in their sexual encounters. To this day, she had never touched Sky intimately. Sky was adamant about their interaction being about Chris and only satisfying her needs. It had taken a while for her to get used to Sky’s refusal to let her touch her. At first she was a bit put off and insulted, but she’d gradually adjusted to their one-sided encounters.
Chris pulled the last staple from the post and began trimming the ends of the wire. Her mind wandered a bit further. Would she be content with Sky? She’d seen firsthand that Sky’s moods were as fiery as her passions. A relationship with Sky would mean she’d have to accept both. Would she be content allowing her into her life? Chris was comfortable with the farm and making her own schedule without having to consider someone else’s needs. Besides, she wasn’t even sure if Sky liked animals. If she had to guess, she would be more inclined to say that animals probably didn’t like Sky. She could be wrong, she supposed, but there was one aspect of Sky’s behavior that Chris didn’t like at all: her abuse of drugs.
More than once, she’d witnessed Sky downing nondescript pills with her beer. Chris wasn’t really invested enough in their minimal relationship to care what Sky did or didn’t do to her body. She didn’t particularly like her when her drug cocktail of choice caused her moods to swing, sometimes violently.
Chris remembered, with a shudder, Sky’s attempt to push E on her. No way. She tried to avoid Sky at those times. It reminded her too much of where she’d come from.
She needed more fence supplies and cautiously retraced her steps, taking great care where she placed her feet while wading through the water. She found Frances dozing in the shade with a ring of sleeping dogs surrounding her. For a moment she gazed at the serene scene, but not wanting to wake her friend, she quietly rummaged through the tools. She lifted extra staples, new insulators, and two new wooden posts out of the Gator.
As she sloshed through the stream once more, she avoided slimy rocks while carrying the poles awkwardly on her shoulder. With each precarious step, she had to reach up with her free hand to steady them. When she stood by the bank, she tossed the posts onto dry land, and scrambled up after them. She wiped the clay from her hands on her jeans and swiped her hair out of her eyes.
It didn’t take her long to secure two strands of wire to the base post, then to the two posts that would hang vertically over the water. She unrolled the wire as she backed to the other side. Then she returned to pull the new fencing across.
She carefully waded through the water with the wire in her hands and the cumbersome posts behind her, but had to stand in the deepest part of the stream to begin tightening the fence. Unfortunately, she chose a dubious spot to stand. The current proved strong enough to threaten her balance each time she shifted her weight.
The posts were almost upright when one stuck on a thick root jutting out from a nearby tree. Chris tugged gently a couple of times, keeping in mind her precarious footing. The post tip didn’t budge. Frustrated, she leaned in and jerked back hard. The post came loose, but she had underestimated the amount of free wire behind it.
Her feet slipped as she wavered off balance. Swinging her arms like a windmill, she tried in vain to remain standing. It was inevitable. She was going in. “Oh, shit!”
The resulting splash woke Frances and startled the dogs. “Chris? Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Chris struggled to get back on her feet, lost the fight, and quickly sat back down in the water. “Damn it! These rocks are slicker than goose shit.” She heard a barely stifled giggle. She looked over at Frances who had one hand over her mouth and the other on her belly. “I’m glad you find this so damned funny,” she said.
Frances’s laughter proved contagious. Soon Chris was laughing just as much, which made it even more impossible to get out of the water. “I’m going to look like a freaking prune before I get out of here,” she blurted between outbursts. Several minutes passed before either she or Frances caught their breath.
“Many more stunts like that, and you’ll drive me to wear
Depends.” Frances’s lip quivered. She bit it, Chris guessed, to keep her laughter from starting up again.
“This wasn’t exactly planned. Do you think you can contain yourself long enough to hold onto these wire ends while I wade over and free that post?” Chris avoided looking at Frances, who she knew could barely remain serious.
She brought her feet under her. One foot slipped, but she was able to push herself up with her arms to a crouching position. In a moment she was standing, and in another, she’d freed the fence.
Thirty minutes later, the fence secure and the tools stowed in the Gator, Frances drove back to the house. Every time she stole a glance at Chris, she’d start giggling again. Chris mock glowered in return.
“Aw, Chris,” Frances said, patting her shoulder, “you keep me young.”
Chris turned in her seat and smiled at Frances. God, she adored the woman. “Me, too.”
Chapter 6
The weeks flew by. Mary Jo traveled with Doc almost nonstop every day. Sometimes they had time to pick up a quick lunch, but more often they ate from a paper bag full of snacks that Donna threw together. Sometimes clients offered them a cup of coffee, a soda, or a bottle of water. On good days, a client might treat them to a Tupperware container of soup or chili.
Mary Jo had lost some weight and put on some muscle, but she wasn’t displeased. Her T-shirts fit a little tighter and her jeans a little looser. Without realizing it, she’d firmed up muscles she hadn’t used much since her high school days. She sported a “farmer’s tan” because only her face and arms saw the sun these days, and she didn’t have the time or inclination to tan any other parts of her body.
Her hair was lighter and streaked from the sun’s natural bleaching. Aware of her chaotic schedule, she tried to eat more healthily at home and kept her apartment stocked with protein foods, although she had a weakness for pizza.
On Friday evening, struggling to carry her usual bag of groceries and keep the contents from spilling, she completely forgot to pick up her mail on the way in. After she stowed the groceries, she went to the mailbox to retrieve it. An official looking envelope slipped out from between a grocery store flyer and a sales ad from a carpet cleaner and fell on the floor.
She dropped everything else and grabbed the envelope. With trembling hands, she gripped it tight. She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer, and started to tear it open.
“Oh God, I hope this is what I think it is,” she murmured.
With the partially opened envelope in hand, she got a wineglass, filled it with white wine, and took a generous chug. “Okay, it’s now or never.”
Despite unsteady hands, she finished ripping open the envelope. The words blurred on the page inside. She closed her eyes, opened them slowly, and attempted for a second time to read the paper. She shouted a whoop of joy. There it was: her Doctor of Veterinary Medicine license.
Doc Hall should already have received a copy of the document she held in her hand, but he hadn’t said anything about it. “Oh, my God, if I didn’t have to work tomorrow, I’d go out and celebrate. Maybe pick up some hot chick,” she mused aloud.
Mary Jo stopped daydreaming and forced herself to focus on what this piece of paper meant. She’d be able to go to calls by herself. While she enjoyed riding with Doc, she tended to rely on him and his diagnosis more than trusting her own knowledge and instincts. With her license, she didn’t have a choice. Clients would look to her for help. She’d be the one giving medical advice and treating her patients accordingly.
She dialed her parents’ number and got the machine as usual. She left a message with the good news, hung up, and poured herself another glass of wine. She took a deep breath and went out to sit on the steps that led to her apartment.
The sun was slowly setting and the cicadas had already begun their nightly buzzing. Mary Jo heard toads trilling and, in the distance, the hooting of an owl. She emptied her glass, went inside for a refill, and returned with a full glass as well as the bottle.
For some reason she felt lonely. She wasn’t sure why. She loved her job and had a bunch of friends, although it had been awhile since she’d seen or talked to any of them. Work kept her busy and sent her home tired. She should be happy, she thought, and she guessed she was.
She truly enjoyed the direction her life had taken, but something was missing. She supposed she could always go to a bar to find someone to briefly quench her sexual needs, but they weren’t women she could confide in, talk to, and hold close in her heart and mind.
Mary Jo’s thoughts wandered to Chris Martel. She thought Chris was a lesbian, or so her seldom-failing “gaydar” told her, and wondered if she had a girlfriend. From the little she had seen, Chris lived alone. Mary Jo hadn’t detected a shred of evidence pointing to another person, let alone another woman.
How could someone that gorgeous be single? Chris exuded confidence and a sexual quality that Mary Jo found unquestionably desirable. Her voice was quiet and sensual, which the horses apparently liked, too. It hadn’t taken but a few seconds to see the reaction Chris had on that killer horse. She had to admit she found Chris extremely attractive and captivating.
Chris had evidently come to the office to return the stethoscope. Maybe that was her way of extending a peace offering? And Donna had told her Chris said to stop by sometime and she would show her around the farm. She wouldn’t mind seeing Chris again, but she remained a little leery.
And let’s face it. She’s not your usual type. Their first meeting hadn’t been under the best of circumstances either. On the other hand, Chris was nice to look at. Maybe they could start over. She wouldn’t mind making a new friend, especially one who was as intriguing as Chris Martel. And she had a cute ass, too, Mary Jo recalled with a sigh.
Mary Jo gradually became aware of how dark it had gotten while she was lost in thought. She also noticed the wine bottle was as empty as her glass.
A movement caught her eye. The sky blazed with what seemed like millions of twinkling stars. She looked up in time to see a meteor streaking across the sky.
On her next day off, she decided, she would pay a visit to Went Farm to try to smooth things over with Chris. She picked up her glass and the bottle and stood up. With a last glance at the brilliant display in the sky, she headed into her apartment and closed the door behind her.
She put the glass in the kitchen sink and the bottle in the recycling bin. She went to the bedroom and pulled the T-shirt over her head as she walked into the bathroom.
After she turned the shower water to hot, she unhooked her bra, jeans, and underwear, and let them fall to the floor. A cloud of steam poured out of the shower enclosure when she opened the door. “Maybe I should be taking a cold shower instead,” she muttered as she let the water play over her body. The excitement of receiving her license and having vaguely lustful thoughts of a desirable woman, in combination with a lot of wine, had caused her libido to wake up. She did nothing about it and decided to just go to bed.
The next morning, when she turned into the clinic drive, she saw a brand new F-150 blue pickup parked in front. The panels on the empty vet box were open. As she got out of her truck, Doc and Donna came out of the office.
“Like your new ride?” Doc asked, with a broad smile.
“It’s beautiful.” Mary Jo walked around the truck, gently running her hand over the new paint. The gist of what Doc had asked suddenly sank in. She turned quickly to give them both hugs. “Seriously? This is mine? Oh, my God, thank you, thank you. I promise to take good care of it.”
“You’d better,” Donna said, laughing. “It took all I had to convince Richard not to take this one and leave you his old rig.”
“It’s true,” Doc admitted with a shrug. “And you won’t be riding with me today. I want you to spend as much time as you need getting this packed with supplies. Donna will help you. She has your laptop and printer in the office. It’ll probably be an early day for you today, unless you want to take a few calls after you have your rig ready.�
�
“All right, I can handle that.” Mary Jo felt confident, though she kept touching the truck to make sure it was real.
“Oh, and Mary Jo? Congratulations.” Doc took a sip from the coffee mug that was his constant companion in the morning.
Mary Jo hugged Doc and Donna again and wiped tears from her eyes after she released them. She loved them just like family and viewed them as nothing less since her own parents were often unavailable to her. They had their own busy careers and schedules. Her father was a criminal lawyer and her mother an inspirational speaker. Both traveled extensively, mostly apart, so except for holidays, it was rare she saw them together. Still, no matter her parents’ lifestyles, she couldn’t help being thankful to them for putting her through veterinary school.
She walked into the office with Doc and Donna and shared a pot of coffee. Doc was the first to finish and had to beat feet out the door for his first call.
“He’s so proud of you,” Donna said warmly. “You’re like the daughter he never had.”
Mary Jo touched Donna’s arm. “Thanks again,” she said. “I hope I can live up to your expectations.”
“You already have. For six years, it was all he could talk about. MJ this, MJ that.”
Mary Jo knew Doc and Donna had tried to have a baby for several years after they married. After four miscarriages, Donna’s doctor suggested other options. However, the couple had quit trying and threw conception to the fates. Shortly thereafter, the clinic had taken off, and they found it easier to focus on their business, as well as taking care of each other. When Mary Jo came into their lives, the Halls were delighted to adopt her as a surrogate daughter.
When Mary Jo finished with her rig, it was still early in the day. The weeks spent working out of Doc’s truck had helped her learn where all the supplies should be stored. The experience also helped her decide what worked and what didn’t. With few exceptions, she stocked her truck similarly to Doc’s, so it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find what he needed in the rare event he might use her rig.
Laurie Salzer - A Kiss Before Dawn Page 5