Mary Jo conducted a quick examination of the wound. “Okay, I think we’re in luck here. It looks like the stake entered into the muscle between her front legs and extends through, just under the skin, out from her girth. We’re going to need some help though.” She glanced around. Besides herself and Joyce, the only ones standing nearby were Bryce, the stable hand, and Joyce’s current girl-toy. “We need to cut the stake.”
Joyce turned to the stable hand. “Harold, go get the Sawzall.”
“Yes, Miss Joyce,” he said and ran to the shop. Barely two minutes passed before he returned with the tool.
Mary Jo explained her plan to free the filly. “I want to give her more of the tranquilizer to knock her out. As she goes down, I need a person on each end of her to support her and hold the stake in place. Harold, I’ll tell you when to cut the stake.” When he nodded, she continued, “After it’s cut, you’re going to lower her to the ground.” She looked at Joyce’s friend. “Can you hold the stake in place as she goes down?”
The young woman nodded, her eyes were wide with fright. Obviously, she wasn’t a horse person.
Mary Jo injected the tranquilizer into the horse’s jugular. Almost immediately, the filly started to go limp. “Okay, hold onto her,” she said. “Harold, go ahead and cut.”
Harold bent over and started to cut the stake with the Sawzall. After a few seconds of loud buzzing and flying sparks, the stake was in two pieces.
“Okay, everybody, gently lay her down,” Mary Jo said.
Working together, all of them maneuvered the filly so she lay flat on her side without further damage.
“Joyce, kneel on her neck. Now I can see what I’m dealing with here.” Mary Jo lifted the filly’s front leg and palpated the muscles and tissues beneath. She glanced at the woman supporting the stake. “Can you hold her leg up like this?” She nodded in approval as the woman, her hands shaking, held the leg level with the filly’s body. “You’re doing fine. Thank you.”
She reached for her bag. “Can I get a bucket of warm water?” she asked Harold. The requested bucket appeared quickly. She squirted a generous amount of Betadine into the water and added a huge wad of cotton. She prepared a syringe with local anesthetic and injected it in several places around the wounds, including her proposed incision site.
“You’re going to cut it out?” Joyce’s voice was laced with concern.
“If I pull it out, we risk damaging the tissues more and introducing more bacteria into the wounds. The stake is lying just under the skin in most places. The worst part is in the muscle between her legs. I’m going to put a drain in that area once I remove the stake.”
Once Joyce nodded her consent, Mary Jo donned sterile gloves. After scrubbing the surgical site with Betadine, she made her incision and followed the path of the stake with her scalpel. When the entire length of the embedded stake became visible, she carefully removed it, alert for any sudden bleeding. Seeing none, and deciding she didn’t need to perform an internal repair, she cleaned the wound, inserted a drain, and sewed up the incision.
Thirty minutes later, Mary Jo was satisfied she’d done well. “This looked a lot worse than it was,” she said. “I’m going to put her on a strong course of antibiotics. We’ll leave this drain in for about a week. You’ll definitely want to keep her in a stall and reduce her grain to keep her quiet.”
The filly uttered small pathetic nickers. Her eyes began to focus, and she became more aware of her surroundings. The young horse tucked her feet under her, and Mary Jo assisted in helping her to her feet. While Harold and Joyce guided the filly to a stall, she packed up her tools.
“That was awesome, what you did.”
Mary Jo looked up, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. The woman she thought of as Joyce’s toy stood there. “Thanks. It could have been much worse, but she lucked out.”
She stood and was able to get a good look at the woman for the first time. Her spiked blonde hair made her green eyes more striking. She was about Joyce’s height and skinny.
“My name is Jill, by the way.” She extended her hand.
Mary Jo took it. “Mary Jo Cavanaugh. Nice to meet you. And thanks for your help.” She loosened her hand, but Jill wasn’t letting go. She pulled her hand out of the snug grasp. Turning her attention to her bag, she wondered if the woman was putting the moves on her.
She looked up with the intention of following Joyce into the barn when Jill spoke again. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to get together sometime, maybe for coffee or something?”
“Um, actually, I’m seeing somebody. But thanks for the offer.” Mary Jo barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Oh, that’s right. You’re the one who’s with Chris Martel.”
Mary Jo stopped dead in her tracks, trying to decide whether to comment as she turned to face Jill. The woman’s snarky tone of voice made her a bit suspicious as well as wary. “As if it’s any of your business,” she replied curtly.
“Well, I’ve just heard some things. My cousin from Rochester just broke up with Chris Martel. She was with her for a while and doesn’t have too many nice things to say about her.”
Her face flushing hot, Mary Jo couldn’t believe Jill’s audacity. “Did you stop to think that maybe your cousin just wasn’t her type?” Not waiting for a reply, she stormed into the barn and down the aisle to where Joyce and Bryce stood. Feeling angry and confused, she walked in brisk strides and tried to regain her composure. Chris had never mentioned being with anybody, let alone having just broken up with a girlfriend.
Mary Jo forced a smile when she reached the stall housing the now fully conscious filly. “She looks more comfortable. Joyce, follow me out to the truck, and I’ll give you a bottle of sulfa antibiotics,” she said. “Bryce, it was good to see you again.”
“Same here, Doc. Thanks for your help.” Bryce’s attention returned to the filly.
Mary Jo paused briefly to watch the young horse drink some water, and then she went out of the barn with Joyce.
She was lost in thought as she walked with Joyce. She felt sure Chris would’ve told her if she’d been seeing somebody else. Wouldn’t she? Was Chris with this “cousin” when they first got together? What in the hell was going on?
The thoughts tormented her even as she handed Joyce the drugs. After explaining the dosage, she got into her truck and drove to the clinic. The uncertainty continued later as she returned to her own apartment instead of Went Farm to see Chris.
Mary Jo didn’t know what to do. Should she confront Chris with what she knew? But then again, did she actually know anything? Jill could have been throwing her a line to try to make her own proposition more tempting.
Confused, sad, angry, and more importantly, alone, Mary Jo sat in her truck awhile. “Am I paranoid?” she asked herself. “Maybe insecure because my relationship with Chris is so new?” She received no answers from the truck, only ticking sounds as the engine cooled. She rubbed her face in frustration, got out, and went to her apartment.
Hell, she didn’t even know what she could say to Chris without sounding like a jealous, raging bitch. But she was a bit jealous, wasn’t she? In truth, she didn’t know much about Chris’s past, other than what she had revealed about her dysfunctional family. She knew Chris was an intensely private person. She hadn’t told Mary Jo much about herself, or about being a lesbian, or any past relationships.
Mary Jo paced back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom. She was working herself up to a full-blown anxiety attack. She wanted to drown herself in a bottle of wine. Wine always made her feel better—a little fuzzier, but better. Unfortunately, it was her day to take calls for the clinic.
No, she decided, the real problem was that she wanted to talk to Chris. “Oh, for God’s sake, MJ, get a grip,” she muttered. But she needed answers.
She recalled the previous night and the emotion she’d felt pouring out of Chris. Yeah, well, okay, and the raw sex, too. Chris had opened herself up completely, willing t
o do anything and everything Mary Jo wanted.
Her skin tingled with the recollection of Chris’s hands and lips caressing her body. She ceased her pacing and felt a familiar ache when thoughts of Chris passed through her mind. Should it matter if Chris had been with someone else?
Feeling like a hypocrite, Mary Jo decided it didn’t and shouldn’t. She’d managed to etch Chris deep into her heart, and that’s where she wanted her to stay. She only hoped Chris felt the same and would tell her the truth. “If I can get my nerve up to ask her, that is,” she whispered.
She needed to see Chris. They had to talk, but more than that, she wanted—or rather, needed—to be in those strong arms, to get lost in those blue eyes.
Mary Jo looked for her keys, finding them still in her hand. Consumed by her thoughts, she hadn’t put them down or taken her coat off. There was only one way to resolve her uncertainty. She strode out of the apartment. She would get the answers she needed from Chris.
* * *
When Chris opened her eyes in the morning, she smiled as she stretched her tired and sore muscles. The dogs jumped off the bed when she began to stir and waited for her impatiently, pacing back and forth. Cedar carried a gutted stuffy toy in her mouth and snorted incessantly as she prowled about the room with the other two dogs.
Chris knew further sleep would be impossible.
Nevertheless, she stayed in bed a few more minutes and thought about the previous evening. She had tried to convince Mary Jo to spend the night in her bed, but Mary Jo had to work the next day, so regrettably, she’d woken up alone.
Chris had never shared her bed with anyone except the dogs. For the first time, she wanted to wake up with someone in her arms, to the feel of soft skin against hers, her legs tangled with her lover’s. That someone was Dr. Mary Jo Cavanaugh.
She squelched the surge of desire that threatened to make her take matters into her own hands. Sliding out from under the covers, she attracted Sadie, who jumped up, stood on her chest, and flicked a tongue over her nose.
“Good morning to you, little one.” Chris tried to avoid the terrier’s sloppy wet kisses. Sadie hopped off when Chris started to rise. She threw her legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed sleep from her eyes.
Cedar and Cagney sat in front of her, their eyes alert, their tails wagging.
“All right, all right, I’m getting up,” Chris said through a yawn. When she stood up, she felt an unfamiliar soreness between her legs. A grin lifted the corners of her mouth as she wondered if Mary Jo had the same problem.
She shuffled into the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth. She decided to take a quick shower before chores and turned the water to hot. While she waited for the water to heat up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror above the sink.
Apart from her disheveled hair, she sported dark circles under her eyes, though her shiner had almost healed. She had a few yellowish tinges on her cheek, but the remnants of bruises would soon disappear. Her ribs, still a tad sore, didn’t hinder her.
Steam rose above the shower stall and signaled the arrival of hot water to the second floor. Chris stepped in and let the water hit her in the face and rush down the length of her body. At once, she felt refreshed and more awake. She scrubbed and washed her hair then turned the water off and toweled herself dry. After finger-combing her damp hair, she got dressed.
She let the dogs out and tossed wood on the glowing embers in the fireplace. The comforter remained on the floor where she and Mary Jo had lain on it the night before. She picked it up, folded it haphazardly, and tossed it on the back of the loveseat.
The small waft of air displaced by the comforter brought Mary Jo’s scent to her. With it came the memory of the uninhibited things they’d done to each other the night before. The emotional response Mary Jo wrung from her, in combination with the physical arousal, had opened her eyes to the true meaning of making love. Never before had she felt so protected, so needed by someone.
She remembered the feeling of complete contentment. Late in the evening, all but asleep, lulled by the sound of the heartbeat beneath her cheek and the warm strength of Mary Jo’s arm across her back, Chris knew she’d found her soul mate.
She strode into the pantry and dished out the dogs’ food just before she heard a telltale scratch at the door. When she let the girls in, she noticed snowflakes melting on their fur. It was still too dark outside to tell how hard it was snowing, but the wind wasn’t blowing, which she took as a good sign.
The weather could be weird in the hills surrounding Bristol, she mused. There could be a blizzard raging in one valley, and the next could be perfectly sunny. Her farm usually had a white Christmas, but the villages just north of her, lower in elevation, had a fifty-fifty chance of being so lucky.
While the dogs wolfed down their breakfast, she made a quick cup of coffee. She grabbed a granola bar, shoved it in her mouth, and chewed as she pulled on her boots and coat.
“You guys ready yet?” she asked the dogs and opened the door.
Having swallowed every morsel of food, the dogs ran outside. Large flakes of snow tickled Chris’s face as she stepped off the porch. More snowflakes drifted aimlessly through the air. There was barely a coating on the ground, but the white powder made the path to the barn a little easier for her to see.
The dogs met her at the barn, clearly having done their usual business in the adjoining field. When she opened the door, warm horse- and hay-scented air wafted against her face. She heard the usual impatient nickers and stamping of hooves. She flipped on the high aisle lights so the horses’ eyes could grow accustomed to the illumination before she turned on the more powerful fluorescents.
“Good morning, everybody,” Chris called as she walked down the aisle to the feed room. She pulled out the grain cart and made her way to each horse’s stall.
She finished her morning chores by noon. She had locked all the horses in the barn the previous night because the north wind had picked up, creating a bitter chill. That meant additional stall cleaning, but she didn’t mind.
She looked out the doorway of the stall she was cleaning and saw the snow had stopped falling. Clouds were beginning to break up and streaks of purple and black lined the horizon. Soon, the sun would make short work of the newly fallen snow.
Chris hadn’t heard from Mary Jo yet, but she didn’t think it odd. Since it was Doc’s day off, she was probably busy.
Mary Jo had told Chris last night that although the clinic got fewer calls during this time of year, the travel times increased because there were few planned routes between the farms. Frequently, Mary Jo would be on her way back to the clinic when another call came in and she had to retrace her path.
Chris finished hauling manure to the pile outside the barn. “Time for a coffee break, that’s what I think,” she said to herself. She signaled the dogs to follow and went into the office.
She checked the answering machine for messages, glad to find none. The cell phone she’d tossed on the desk earlier also showed no missed calls.
She made herself a cup of coffee as the dogs turned circles on their beds and settled in for a nap. The sunlight coming through the windows made the room even more enticing for the sleepy dogs, she supposed. She closed the door to keep the office warm. During the winter, the dogs spent more time in the office than following her around. As far as she knew, nobody disliked the arrangement.
Before Chris exited the office, she looked out the window and saw that the sun was out in full force, snow clouds nowhere in sight. She decided to go outside to take advantage of the slightly increased temperature and headed toward the south side of the barn.
She slid the big door open enough to be able to lean her shoulder against the wall and stood with the sun warming her face, her legs crossed, and the coffee mug cuddled against her chest. A flock of white-throated sparrows serenaded her with their Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody, song from the low brush behind the barn. Feeling warmer in the bright sunshine, she unzipped her coat.
After a cold night, all the horses dozed outside in the sunlight; their eyelids drooped to half-mast, and their back legs were cocked in the familiar resting position. The wind had diminished during the night, so it seemed warmer than the thirty-two-degree reading on the thermometer. Chris closed her eyes and fell into a doze herself.
“I see you sleep on your feet, just like your horses,” a familiar voice said, and arms wrapped around Chris’s waist from behind.
Startled, Chris jerked and spilled coffee on her hand. “Ow. Shit!” She flicked her hand of the burning liquid and wiped the wetness on her jeans.
Mary Jo chuckled. “Oops, sorry.”
Chris turned in Mary Jo’s arms and gazed at her with affection. “That’s okay. I’ll bear any pain for this.” She leaned in and kissed Mary Jo, her tongue exploring the parted lips that greeted hers.
Mary Jo broke off the kiss and leaned back in Chris’s embrace. “Do you do that to everybody who sneaks up on you?”
“You seem to be the only one the dogs will let by without a fuss.”
“Oh yeah, I see how reliable they are. I saw them snoozing on their beds when I came in.” Mary Jo’s expression turned serious. “Chris, you spend so much time alone. What if something happened and you couldn’t get to the phone?”
“Don’t worry. Got it covered. Bill insisted on having a silent alarm installed. There are trigger buttons mounted in the house, outside the ring, and two feet off the ground in the office.” Seeing Mary Jo’s confusion, Chris said, “Cedar is trained to push any of those buttons if I say the trigger word or get knocked unconscious and she can’t rouse me. It alerts the security company, and they send police, ambulance, fire department, the Army, Navy, and Marines. You name it.”
“Trigger word?”
“Yeah, it’s a special word she never hears unless it’s an emergency.”
“That’s high tech. Are you going to tell me what it is?”
Laurie Salzer - A Kiss Before Dawn Page 21