“For me, horse breeding goes hand in hand with veterinarian medicine. Especially once we incorporate artificial insemination into our program.”
The plastic tote obviously wasn’t as heavy as it appeared, for Ace carried it with ease.
“You think you’ll get to that point? Where you’re shipping semen across the country?”
“I can’t settle for anything less. Not if we’re going to be successful and make money. That loan we took out won’t pay itself down.”
Flynn liked chatting with Ace about the ranch and his practice and their breeding program. It was a side of him unfamiliar to her. They’d both been focused on school when they dated and residing in Billings. They’d go home on weekends. Separately. John Hart and Flynn’s father were at the height of their rivalry then.
“What about you?” Ace asked. “Your life is changing, too. Returning to school is a huge step.”
He didn’t mention moving. Neither did she.
“School and a baby, too.”
His expression turned serious. “Be careful you don’t overextend yourself.”
“We’ve already talked about this,” she insisted. “I’m starting out a part-time student. Two classes tops.”
He set the plastic case down. “I meant today. Vaccinating the calves.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She bit her lower lip. “I’ll take frequent rest breaks, I promise.”
“Stay away from the pens and chutes. Cattle can be just as unpredictable as bucking horses and just as dangerous.”
As they set up their station, Ace was greeted by his uncle Joshua who updated him on their progress so far.
“What exactly does vaccinating and deworming the calves involve?” Flynn asked when he was finished.
“We drive the calves one at a time from the pen down that narrow chute and into the headgate.”
“Headgate?”
“Over there.” He pointed to a large metal contraption that stood at least five and a half feet tall and appeared to be operated by a series of levers.
She grimaced and rubbed her throat. “Looks uncomfortable.”
“Actually, it’s not uncomfortable at all. The calves will raise a fuss for sure, but it is the safest, gentlest and most effective way to restrain them while giving them injections.”
Flynn was fascinated. “Can I help?”
He laughed. “You’re not running calves down the chute.”
Protesting would get her nowhere. “There must be something I can do.”
“How handy are you with a syringe?”
“I want to be a nurse, remember?”
“Good.” He opened the lid of the plastic box, revealing a supply of syringes and bottles of clear liquid. “Let me show you how. I need about a hundred of them filled.”
She picked up a syringe, eyed the needle beneath the protective cap. “It’s huge! Those poor calves.”
“It won’t hurt. Not any more than when you get a flu shot.”
“Hmm.” Flynn remained unconvinced.
“Squeamish?”
“Please, don’t insult me.” Her queasy stomach betrayed her by choosing that moment to lurch.
“I can get Gracie to help me.”
“Not on your life.” Flynn squared her shoulders and stuck out her chin. “Show me what I need to do.”
Chapter Twelve
“Flynn,” Joshua Adams called, attempting to hold a calf steady while reading the ear tag. “Do you have this one?” He recited the number.
She ran down the list on her clipboard, flipped pages and checked off the calf. “Got it.”
Having filled all the syringes, she’d been given the task of logging each calf as it was sent down the chute to the headgate.
According to her check marks, they were better than halfway done. A lot of calves and a lot of hard work. Flynn was sweating profusely, and she hadn’t labored a fraction as hard as Ace, his uncle, cousins and the ranch hands.
She was also having a thoroughly grand time.
The physically intensive labor was made easier by a friendly camaraderie among the participants. More than once she found herself the brunt of a good-natured jest, and she laughed along with everyone else.
Her attention was diverted as the next calf trotted down the chute, bawling at the top of its lungs. Gracie closed the headgate and before the calf quite knew what was happening, Ace had administered the injection and dewormer.
“Hold on, little fellow.” Gracie scratched the calf on the forehead. “Almost done.”
Ace conducted a quick exam. “Wait a second,” he said when Gracie would have released the lever and freed the calf.
Ace knelt down.
Flynn understood the purpose of restraining the calf when it suddenly kicked out with a hind leg. Luckily, the potential blow missed Ace by a good two feet.
“Flynn,” he called. “Bring me the Biozide Gel.”
She grabbed the jar from his medical case and brought it to him. Over the course of a few hours she’d learned the names of almost every item in his case.
“Is he hurt?”
“Nothing much.” Ace applied the gel to a small nick on the calf’s chest. “Probably got into a tussle with one of his buddies.”
“Boys will be boys.” Gracie winked at Flynn. “Have two of them myself. Twelve and fourteen.”
Flynn imagined her son, a miniature version of Ace, roughhousing with his friends on the Harts’ large front lawn or swimming in their backyard pool. Probably the way Ace had roughhoused and swam with his brothers when he was young.
Then she imagined her son in an apartment in Billings—which was probably where she’d be living because she couldn’t afford much more on her income, not while she attended school.
Those play sessions at the Harts’ would be during the weekends when Ace had their son.
Unless they had a girl, like Ace wanted, then it would be tea parties.
Nah. With Ace for a father, she’d probably be tough as any boy.
“Lunch is here,” one of the hands hollered, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“Finally,” Gracie exclaimed, releasing the calf so that it could be returned to its mother. “I’m starving.”
Flynn was, too. Her nausea had disappeared not long after starting work. So, she now noticed, had her fatigue.
The truck carrying their lunches pulled up and Sarah Hart emerged.
“Come and get it!”
Four hungry men beat her to the rear of the truck and began unloading the ice chests.
“You ready?” Ace asked Flynn.
“More than ready.” She helped him close up the medical case.
Lunch consisted of sandwiches, fat dill pickles, individual bags of potato chips, cold drinks and homemade brownies for dessert.
Flynn sat on the lowered tailgate of Ace’s truck, removed her ball cap and ate like a starved animal, licking the brownie crumbs off her fingers when she was done.
“Finished already?” Ace joined her, the other half of his sandwich still in his hand, his bag of chips unopened.
“Lightweight,” she muttered.
“Do you mind?” He nodded at the tailgate.
In reply, she scooted over.
“I guess you’re eating for two.” The truck rocked unsteadily as he made himself comfortable.
“That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”
“Want my brownie?”
“No, thanks.” She’d already had two. “I’m glad you invited me today.”
“I should have warned you how labor-intensive it was going to be.”
“Doesn’t bother me.”
“You taking it easy?”
“I feel fantastic. Lately I’ve been g
etting tired and can hardly keep my eyes open. Today I’m the Energizer Bunny.”
“Wait till tonight. Then you’ll be tired.”
“If I’d known how much fun your job is, I’d have come with you sooner.”
“You’re welcome to tag along anytime.” The look he sent her implied his invitation included more than work.
Emboldened, she asked, “What if I took you up on that offer?”
“Nothing would make me happier. You’re a good assistant. And those spreadsheets you did for me, they’re a whole lot better than what I came up with.”
His praise sent a ribbon of warmth winding through her.
She inclined her head at Ace’s mother and uncle. “Whatever they’re talking about must be serious.”
Ace looked over. “Numbers, I imagine,” he said, finishing his sandwich.
“Numbers?”
“How many cows are pregnant, what’s the anticipated herd size next year, how many calves to sell off, how many acres of alfalfa should we plant, what the current price of seed is. Want me to continue, or have I sufficiently bored you?”
Flynn whistled. “There’s a lot to this ranching business.” The only cattle her father had owned were a few calves for roping practice.
“Which is why we have to keep up our strength.” Ace held out his brownie.
She caved. “All right, but just half.”
He broke the brownie in two, giving her the larger portion.
They sat for a moment in silence, enjoying the sunshine and listening to the conversations around them.
“What do you like best about your job?” Flynn eventually asked.
“Not the paperwork, that’s for sure.”
“Me, either, though I’m actually pretty good at it.”
“Not the headaches and the infinite little details that seem to pile up, either.”
“Kind of like me and school.”
Ace glanced around. “On the other hand, I love days like this, being outside with the animals. Solving problems, overcoming challenges. That’s what keeps me interested.”
“Challenges like Midnight?”
“When I figure out what makes that horse tick, I’m throwing a party.” He took a sip of his soda. “What about you? What do you like best about your job?”
“Helping people,” she answered without hesitation. “I don’t have as much direct patient contact as the nurses and doctors, but when their experience is a little better, a little easier because of me, they’re grateful. For the most part. It’s what makes me want to go to work every day.”
“We should all be so lucky to feel passionate about our jobs.”
“It’s the same for you. Like when you helped the Andersons with Lovey.”
“I suppose.”
She bumped elbows with him. “Stop being such a guy and admit it.”
He laughed. “Okay, you got me. I like helping people. And animals. Even fluffy little kittens.”
She lifted her gaze to him and said softly, “I bet you do like kittens.”
“Babies, too.”
Her heart flip-flopped.
This wasn’t good. If she expected to protect herself from the temptations Ace Hart presented, she couldn’t go all mushy inside just because he said “baby” in that silky voice of his.
She was strong, she could resist.
And she might have succeeded if he hadn’t reached up and brushed a lock of flyaway hair from her face. The sensation of his fingers brushing her skin sent shivers coursing through her.
Steady, girl.
He leaned in, and her willpower flew out the window.
Kiss me.
Someone passed close to the truck, saving Flynn from making a fool of herself.
“Looks like lunch is over.” She leaped to her feet.
People were up from their makeshift seats and starting back to work.
Ace didn’t mention their close encounter, and neither did Flynn. For the next two hours they continued working in tandem, their established routine like a well-oiled machine.
Fortunately, Flynn barely had a spare second to recall their almost PDA. When she did, her pulse skipped erratically and her mind wandered.
“Flynn?”
“Sorry.” Heat infused her cheeks. How long had Ace been talking to her before she heard him?
“We’re done.”
“We are?”
“That was the last calf for today. We’ll finish with the strays tomorrow.”
She glanced at the clipboard and then her watch. “It’s only three o’clock.”
“We’ve been at it since seven. Aren’t you ready to call it a day?”
Not exactly. “Yeah, sure.”
She helped him pack up and carry the supplies to his truck.
He closed the side compartment on his truck, stood, waited and finally said, “We could go out, if you want.”
Alarm bells went off in her head. Hadn’t she been avoiding him all week so as not to encourage him?
“Go where?” she asked.
A gleam lit his mesmerizing dark eyes. “Fishing.”
Fishing! At Thunder Creek. Like they used to do when they were dating.
The alarm bells clanged louder.
“I don’t know. I’m filthy.” She plucked at the front of her shirt.
“We have time if you want to take a quick shower. The fish won’t start biting till dusk.”
Every logical and rational brain cell in her head screamed at her to tell him no. To go fishing with Ace was asking for trouble. Too many memories, good and bad.
She opened her mouth and what came out was: “Sure. Why not?”
* * *
ACE DROVE HOME AFTER dropping Flynn off. They agreed he’d return for her in a half hour, which didn’t give him much time.
The first thing he did when he walked into the kitchen was throw together some food to take, pilfering items from the refrigerator without much thought. The same with the pantry. Cheese, cold cuts, crackers, olives, strawberries, granola bars, anything that looked the least bit edible.
Okay, maybe not granola bars. Cookies instead. She’d liked the brownies at lunch. When he finished packing the food he grabbed some bottled water.
Kind of a mishmash dinner, but it would suffice.
Next he hit the bathroom where he washed up, then changed into a clean shirt and jeans. Last, he headed to the garage and retrieved the fishing gear. Good, he still had a few jars of bait and his lures weren’t a tangled mess.
Before leaving he stopped quickly to check on Midnight. Fancy Gal, the stallion’s constant companion, came over to the fence for a petting along with the other mares.
To Ace’s amazement and delight, Midnight came, too. Willingly. Almost eagerly. Without Ace using a carrot to bribe him.
“Nothing like having the love of a good woman to make us complacent, is there, boy?”
Ace envied the horse. He wanted to know that same feeling with Flynn.
It could happen. She’d agreed to go fishing.
She wasn’t waiting for him when he pulled up in front of the house. Instead, Earl stood at the top of the porch steps, rocking on his heels and wearing an unreadable expression. Ace hadn’t seen or spoken to Flynn’s father since the Western Frontier Pro Rodeo when Fancy Gal had colic. When Earl had seen Ace and Flynn kissing.
She’d mentioned once that Earl was happy about the baby. He might be less happy that Ace was the father.
He got out of the truck, his nerves on edge. Despite being almost thirty, Flynn was still her father’s little girl and the love of his life.
“Howdy, Earl.”
“Ace. Good to see you. Flynn will be right out.”
They met at the fo
ot of the porch steps and shook hands. Ace breathed a sigh of relief. “How’ve you been?”
If he thought to engage Earl in small talk, he was very wrong.
“You be careful with my Flynn.”
“I will. I’ll watch her every step, make sure she doesn’t slip and fall.”
“I’m not talking about the creek.”
Of course not. “I won’t hurt her. You can count on it.”
“You did before.”
“She told you?”
“She didn’t have to.”
Ace wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Earl again.
His attention was distracted by the appearance of three individuals from around the corner of the house. From their dress and manner, he identified them as a real estate agent and her clients.
The woman gave Ace a polite smile, then spoke to Earl. “Thank you for letting us see the place on such short notice.”
“No problem.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
They would be in touch. If the clients’ excited glow was any indication, they liked what they saw.
Ace was glad for Earl. Not so glad for himself.
He waited by the porch swing, just beyond hearing distance, trying not to think about Flynn moving and failing miserably. After a round of handshakes, the real estate agent and her clients left.
Earl’s smile was much too tickled pink for Ace’s liking.
“That went well,” Ace said, rejoining Earl.
His reply was a satisfied grunt, not that Ace expected details.
Thirty to sixty days for an escrow to close. He couldn’t afford to waste one second.
Flynn stepped through the front door. “Sorry I’m late.” Her glance traveled from her father to Ace. “Everything okay?”
“They seemed taken with the place.” Earl went to her and kissed her cheek. “And they’re already prequalified for a home loan.”
“Did they make an offer?”
“The Realtor said she’d be calling later today and then she winked at me.”
It was even worse than Ace first thought.
“Dad, that’s great!”
Earl grunted again, with even more satisfaction. “Don’t be late, you two. That road isn’t easy to drive in the dark.”
Aidan: Loyal Cowboy: Aidan: Loyal CowboyThe Family Plan Page 15