"Are you getting married? James and my grandma are getting married this summer."
"Oh. Well."
"Do you know where my papa is?"
"In the kitchen?" Jillian volunteered, figuring whether she was wrong or not it would at least send the girl looking and give Jillian time to make sense of things.
"Are you going to be staying in my papa's room again tonight?"
"Definitely not," Jillian answered.
"Why? Don't you like my papa?"
Good Lord, Jillian thought, the child asked as many questions as her father.
"Annabelle!" Eileen strode into the room, took her grand-daughter's hand. "I'm sorry, Jillian. Far as I know, since both Wade and I are up at dawn, she comes straight down in the mornings. If I'd known she'd barge in on you I'd have kept an ear open for her."
"It's fine, Eileen. After all, it is her home and she had no way of knowing I would be here."
"Well, be that as it may, she didn't need to linger and pester you with questions. What do you say to Miss Matthews?" Eileen asked.
"I'm sorry," the girl mumbled, looking down at her boots.
"We'll leave you to get dressed, dear. Come on Annabelle, I've got your breakfast ready."
***
Jillian closed the front door behind her and leaned against it. Ducking out while Eileen's attention was focused on wiping up milk Annabelle had spilled was cowardly, but it was simpler that way. All she wanted was to check on the animal and get back to her own quiet house. Especially after last night. Even alone, there was something unsettling about sleeping in a man's bed.
The dust that had choked the air since her arrival in Montana a few days ago was gone. In its place was the clean smell of earth after a good rain. Around the yard site, newly formed leaves trembled in the breeze and above her the blue sky stretched forever.
Taking the boots she'd carried, she sat down on the step. The laces were crusty with cracked mud when she bent to tie them. A moo in the distance turned her attention. Past a copse of trees and up a rise, several hundred cattle, looking little more than black specks, dotted the land. Now that she could see the ranch in full daylight, Jillian scanned the yard with interest.
On the train from out east, Jillian had seen many ranches, and land that went on as endlessly as the Montana sky. She'd seen ranch houses ranging in size from little soddies carved into hillsides to two-level log homes set on rolling hilltops.
Though she had no way of knowing just how much land the Parker's owned, the yard site was quite small. Jillian frowned as her eyes fell on the barn. Whatever color it may have been was long gone, exposing the cracked and worn boards beneath it. Some of them sagged like an over-burdened clothesline. As her gaze went to the roof, she grimaced. More worn and weathered wood there, no doubt due to harsh winters.
Corrals were coupled between the old barn and a newly framed structure that must be its replacement. Her horse and several others stood proud in the morning light, their tails switching lazily. Behind the barn three cabins marched in a perfect line.
Taking her bags and raising her skirt to avoid the worst of the mud, Jillian crossed the yard.
Wade met her at the door to the barn and she knew by the slit of his eyes and the pinching of his mouth that something awful had happened.
"What's wrong?" she asked, though a part of her feared she already knew. There had been all that bleeding.
"The cow's dead."
Even suspecting bad news didn't lessen the blow. Her heart fell. She hated losing any animal, but a mother always seemed so much worse.
"She must have bled out. I'll know once I- what are you doing?" she demanded when he took a step to the side and blocked her path.
"She's dead. Nothing you can do."
"But-"
"I have more than enough to do here without letting you play at what can't be fixed."
"Play?" she scowled.
Just then James came out of the barn with her saddle.
"James will saddle your horse."
"But if I could see her," Jillian tried again. "It would help me for future cases."
Anger burned in his eyes. "I don't give a damn about your future cases. You've done enough here." His tone was as sharp as barbed wire and the "here" was spoken with enough venom that she knew he hadn't meant just his ranch.
He turned, stomped back into the barn. Jillian wasn't going to follow, not after his words. But thinking of the loss, of what, if anything, she could have done differently tormented her and she couldn't deny the culpability that settled heavily on her shoulders. For a long time she simply looked into the barn and wondered. Why? How?
"Miz Matthews?"
She turned to the foreman, who'd not only prepared her horse but had also managed to open and close the paddock gate without Jillian hearing.
James handed her the reins. "Wade's angry. This was a blow the ranch didn't need right now. What he said was spoken in frustration; he didn't mean that it was your fault."
Jillian looked into the barn where Wade stood at the stall, head bowed. He kicked the wood with his booted foot; she heard his muttered curse. Slowly Wade lifted his head, turned to face her.
She'd deliberately misrepresented herself in order to be hired. Even now, she didn't regret doing so, as she knew she never would have been given the position otherwise. She'd been so sure that, if she could prove her skills, it wouldn't matter whether she was man or woman. Folks would simply be grateful to have a trained doctor nearby and she'd never have to go back to Pennsylvania. Never have to concede that her former fiancé had been right; that nobody would ever have her as long as she chose to be a doctor.
Yet despite her best efforts, an animal had died after she'd treated it. Jillian wasn't a fool. It didn't matter that she'd done her best, that she felt awful for the loss. She knew, despite both those truths that what had happened here didn't bode well for her. Not well at all.
Four
Long smears of crimson and mauve with an overlap of orange played peek-a-boo in the western sky as Wade rode into Cedar Springs. At this time of day, the streets were mostly quiet. Children were getting washed and ready for bed, the mercantile and most other businesses were closed until morning.
Wade stopped in front of the saloon. Three horses looked up lazily from the hitching post. He tied Whiskey alongside the rest, loosened the cinch on the saddle and took a moment to scratch his horse's neck.
"I won't be long, boy," he said before giving the animal an affectionate pat and stepping onto the boardwalk.
"Well, look what the wind blew in."
Wade turned, grinned. "Out looking for trouble, Sheriff?"
"Why, planning on giving me any?"
Shane McCall's badge glowed silver and bright as it caught the light spilling from the saloon doors. Nearly everything else on Shane was black: hair, pants, vest. His shirt, which was laundered and starched by a widow who fed her brood of four growing boys by doing laundry and mending, gleamed white against the black.
Wade had known Shane since they were eleven. They'd gone to school together, smoked their first cheroot together and gotten drunk for the first time together. He'd always considered Shane his brother, and still did, though he now also included Scott in that distinction.
"You're safe, tonight. I'm just here for a drink or two." Which he really couldn't afford, shouldn't be doing, but if he stayed home a minute more without something to break the monotony of work and worry he'd go out of his mind. Besides, once Annabelle was asleep, his ma had practically thrown him outside and told him to go.
"Good. And now that you've finally dragged your sorry butt into town, you can tell me all about the pretty lady that slept in your bed."
Grey eyes danced as Wade's narrowed.
"Goddamn Scott has a big mouth."
"He came to see me at home, so you don't have to worry about anyone overhearing. Although given your boring reputation, something like this wouldn't hurt."
Wade pushed open the saloon do
ors.
Wednesday nights didn't draw a big crowd at Silver's; it was one of the reasons he'd come tonight. A merry tune came from the piano that sat beneath the oak balustrade, which overlooked the array of tables and the polished cherry wood bar. Behind the bar gleamed glasses ready to be filled, bottles containing the best whiskey this side of Bozeman and the woman who looked after it all.
Silver Adams' hair was as light as Shane's was dark. Slim and of medium height, she didn't look strong enough or tough enough to run a saloon, but Wade had seen her throw more than one drunk out on his backside if he got out of hand.
There were two other men--local businessmen--sidled up to the bar. Wade tipped his hat in greeting, then he and Shane took the empty stools next to them.
"Evenin' gentlemen," she said, her smile bright. "I was starting to miss your handsome faces. Why haven't I seen you lately?"
"Same old story, Silver, too much work and not enough time to get it all done. Thanks," he added when she placed his drink before him.
"And here I'd been hoping it was cause you found someone pretty to spend your time with."
Jillian's face came to his mind and he shook his head to get rid of her. "Nope, just work."
"Well, I'm not giving up hope on you, Wade." She then fixed her caramel-colored eyes on Shane. "Well, what's your excuse?"
Shane took a swallow of his whiskey. "What? It's not possible I was busy too?"
"I suppose I could have missed a stage coach robbery, or a gang of outlaws riding in. I live and work right here, but I suppose I could have been too busy to hear the hoopla."
Wade choked on his whiskey. When he'd recovered his breath he gave Silver his brightest smile. "Thanks, Silver. After what happened last night, I needed a good laugh."
"What happened last night?"
It wasn't that he particularly wanted to talk about it, but he'd gotten no support at home. Both his ma and James had thought Jillian had done everything she could have. Both agreed that he'd treated her horribly. Neither of them was right. If she hadn't lied about who she was, she wouldn't have been there. Either Doc or a new male doctor would have and he wouldn't have lost an animal he couldn't afford to lose.
"Cow was having problems calving. I sent Scott for the vet."
Silver grabbed a glass, started polishing it. "Doc Fletcher couldn't save it?"
"Wish I knew," Wade said with a shake of his head. "Wasn't Doc Fletcher that showed up."
"Doc's gone? I knew he was leaving, but I thought he'd come say goodbye first."
"I did too. But I suppose once his replacement arrived he couldn't get away fast enough."
"Well, he did say he missed his children and grandchildren."
"If only that were the case, Silver. I suspect he fled--and I do mean fled--because he knew we wouldn't be happy with his replacement and we'd want him to stay on longer."
"What's wrong with his replacement?" Silver asked.
Shane elbowed Wade. "Tell her."
Wade finished off his drink, nodded for another. "Doc's replacement is a woman."
Silver bobbled the bottle and amber liquid spilled onto the bar.
"The new vet's a woman?" she asked, drawing the attention of the two businessmen. "And you didn't know?"
"Of course I didn't know!" Wade argued.
"She's pretty, too. According to Scott," Shane answered when Silver's annoyed gaze fixed on his.
"Well," Silver said, focusing her attention on cleaning up the spill. "Unexpected as that may be, did she do a good job?"
"She killed my cow," Wade muttered into his glass before taking another swallow.
Silver's hand stilled. Murmuring to each other, the two men next to Wade slapped coins on the bar and left.
"What happened? She didn't know what to do?"
"She seemed to." And that was the part that was hard to swallow for Wade. Despite his misgivings and his anger, she had seemed to know what she was doing. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, would things have been different if Doc had been there?
He told them what he knew of her and how she'd come to be at Doc's place. Then he described the surgery and how the cow had seemed all right when they'd left her.
"Oh, Wade, I'm sorry for your loss, but that doesn't mean it was her fault."
"Don't be defending her just cause she's a woman, Silver."
Silver stood hipshot. "And don't you be condemning her for it, neither. You said yourself she was trained by her father and you were more than happy to hire him."
"Maybe it was her fault, maybe it would have happened had Doc been there. I wish I could know what would have happened had it been Doc."
"Wade," Silver soothed. "That kind of thinking will drive you crazy."
Wade pressed his fingers over his tired eyes. "You're right. Either way the cow is dead." And he'd taken yet another step back in his dream of moving from cattle to horse ranching. Every time he managed to save a few dollars, something always slapped him back.
"The calf lived. It could have been worse, Wade. You could have lost them both."
And he almost had, he thought, remembering how the calf hadn't breathed. How upset Jillian had been. How she'd worked fast to get it to breathe.
"What are your plans now?"
Wade dropped his hands, looked at Shane. "For the ranch?"
"No, for the vet. You and Doc hired her but Doc's gone. It's just a matter of time before word gets out she's his replacement. When it does, folks'll be coming to you for answers. What are you planning on telling them?"
"That I didn't know she was a woman either."
"I imagine they're going to want to know if you plan on keeping her on or if you plan on advertising for another one."
"Hell, trying to get another one could take months. Look how long it took to find her."
Shane held up his hands. "Don't shoot the messenger. I was just pointing out that you thought when you hired this new vet your problems for replacing Doc were over. But it seems to me they've just begun."
Great, Wade thought. Just great.
***
Steven Garvey was exhausted. His shoulders ached from a long day at the feed mill. His head throbbed from his wife's nattering, which had been incessant since he'd gotten home from that long day. Jacob, his eight year-old son, had woven tales of exploits in between his mother's breaths. Was it any wonder Steven had tucked his whiskey bottle into his jacket and escaped to the barn?
His first few pulls on the bottle were fast, a desperate stab at relaxation. But now, with his throat and belly warm from the whiskey and with the sharp edges smoothed out, Steven settled into the straw and sighed. For the first time all day things were blessedly quiet.
Horses, at least two by the sound of hooves pounding on dirt, broke his peace. Steven cursed his luck. He should have known it was too good to last. He contemplated ignoring the visitors but quickly dismissed the thought. Though most folks saw him at the feed mill if they had town concerns, a few preferred to talk to their mayor away from prying eyes and keen ears.
Besides, whoever it was that had come for him would likely go to the house, and his wife would end up screaming for him from the porch. No, he thought as he came to his feet, he'd had enough of her shrieks for one day. Tucking the bottle into the straw--he was still mayor after all--Steven went outside.
The sun had tumbled over the horizon a good hour ago but there was enough light lingering to recognize his friends.
"Over here," he called out.
Bill and Robert looked over their shoulders, changed their direction. Steven had no idea what they were doing there as they didn't normally stop by. Usually whatever they had to talk about was done at Silver's at their weekly poker game.
It didn't take long to learn the reason for their unexpected visit. They'd barely tied the horses before Robert turned from the corral.
"Wade hired us a woman vet."
Steven opened his mouth. Then shut it. Opened it again. He shook his head. "He did what?"
"T
he vet him and Doc hired? It's a woman. Wade was just at Silver's talking about it."
He hadn't had that much whiskey, but he may as well have been falling down drunk for all the sense these two were making. "How is that possible? There's no such thing as a woman vet." And he knew damn well he'd never agreed to hire one at the town meeting where--to his frustration--he'd had to side with the rest of the folks and leave Wade and Doc in charge of hiring Doc's replacement.
"Well, apparently there is," Robert answered.
Bill wasn't tall; he was a brick of a man with thick shoulders and no neck to speak of. His eyes were like pistols, cold and hard, when they fixed on Steven. "I own a livery stable, what the hell am I supposed to do if an animal in my care needs a vet? I ain't calling no woman doctor. Especially one who has already killed one animal."
Blood was beginning to thrum in Steven's ears. "She killed an animal?"
"According to Wade, she killed his cow," Robert answered while Bill stood there, nostrils flaring and breath heaving like a raging bull.
Steven spun back into the barn, knowing they'd follow. Figuring it couldn't hurt at this point, he grabbed his bottle from the straw then dropped into the chair he used when oiling his tack. The whiskey sloshed in the bottle as he took a long drink. Bill and Robert strode in, Bill's spurs jingling. They took up on the opposite side of the aisle.
"How the hell did this happen?" Steven asked.
"I don't know," Robert answered. "None of the telegrams I saw gave any indication it was a woman wanting the job," Robert said, referring to his position at the post and telegraph office.
"I don't care if he knew or not," Bill said, frothing at the mouth, "animal doctoring's a man's job."
"I don't rightly care, one way or the other, either. But he will fix this. Didn't I say, when the town met to discuss replacing Doc, that I'd do the hiring? But no, Wade had to step up and volunteer," he sneered, remembering the day well.
That was the day the town had trusted Wade over their own mayor. The day Steven had had to graciously accept their majority decision all the while cursing the man who'd never stopped being a thorn in Steven's side. Wasn't it enough that Wade had had more friends in school? That he'd been better at ciphering and reading? That he'd turned Amy's head just when Steven thought he'd finally gotten her attention?
Another Chance Page 3