Stealing Sarah: a Cowboy Fairytales spin-off (Triple H Brides Book 3)

by Lacy Williams

  A motion-sensor light from a corner of the barn roof lighted their way, that and the moonlight. The fields were silent around them.

  "I guess you overheard my phone call," she said, breaking the quiet.

  "Didn't mean to." He hadn't been eavesdropping. Kayla had asked him to open the back door and let some air flow through the house, and Sarah hadn't seemed to notice him as she'd crept outside at the same time. He'd only heard her side of the conversation, but it was enough.

  She sighed softly.

  "I was wondering why James hadn't shown up," he said. "Didn't realize it was something like that."

  She swallowed hard. Maybe he should just drop it, but she'd brought it up. "I'm going to call him back tomorrow. We've had our differences, but..."

  She loved him?

  That was what Chase expected to hear, but it wasn't what she said.

  "I can change," she muttered softly. "Be more of what he wants. I just have to convince him of it."

  He barely kept himself from scoffing. If Hero couldn't see what a jewel he had, it shouldn't be up to Sarah to convince him. Chase opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. She was hurting and he doubted anything he could say right now would make her feel better. She'd been quiet and serious back in high school, more lighthearted as he'd gotten to know her last year. How could someone as smart as Sarah have problems with self-image?

  As they approached the open barn door, a figure appeared in the doorway.

  Sarah tensed beside him, just the slightest amount, and it made him glad that he'd come along.

  It wasn't a rancher who appeared. It was a preteen girl.

  "Amanda." Surprise was audible in Sarah's voice. "Where's your dad?"

  The girl sniffled but quickly wiped her face with the back of one hand. Her chin came up and the movement reminded him immediately of Sarah.

  "He's not here right now," the girl said. "But something's wrong with Mallory—my sheep—and he said it would be okay if I called you. Mom's inside."

  Sarah approached the girl, and he saw the compassion cross her features. She reached out to pat the girl's shoulder. "We'll get her looked at." Gone was any sign of residual fear. She was a consummate professional.

  The barn was warm and well taken care of, but none of the other stalls—six in all—were in use. It was awfully cold to have horses running loose on the property.

  Amanda had her ewe in a large, open stall, and had hung work lights from each side of the stall to illuminate the area.

  "Tell me what's been going on." Sarah entered the pen, and the sheep skittered away. Its wool was clean, and it didn't look to be in any distress.

  The girl's worry was obvious as she hopped into the pen with Sarah. With both of them in there, Chase figured he'd better go in too.

  The sheep edged away from Sarah, and Amanda went at it from the other direction.

  "She's never been this skittish," Amanda said. The sheep darted between her and Sarah. Chase attempted a block but he was to slow. It was going to be like that, huh?

  "She's been off her food," Amanda went on. "And really lethargic. She's been out in the pasture during the day, but I pulled her in here so you could see her."

  Chase would get her still, so Sarah could have a look.

  Three minutes later, he was sweating through his shirt beneath his coat. This was getting a little embarrassing, being bested by a sheep. Sarah had shed her coat and sweater, leaving her in a T-shirt. He caught a glimpse of a scratch on one arm that hadn’t healed completely yet. Seeing it made acid churn in his gut.

  The three of them finally found a way to use their bodies to corner the sheep. Amanda held its head and he used his legs to pin it to the wall as Sarah moved around the two of them to examine the animal.

  Sarah's shoulder nudged his thigh as she reached beneath the sheep to palpitate its stomach.

  "Glad to have me here now?" he asked her in a low voice.

  She shot him a glance over her shoulder, and he winked. She shook her head slightly. Though her face was turned toward what she was doing, he imagined the eye roll.

  "Has she been... erm, visited by a ram?" Sarah asked. "Around Thanksgiving?"

  Amanda scrunched up her face as if thinking. "Maybe." Her head tilted away, hiding her face behind the curtain of her hair. "My mom and I went to visit my grandma in Pennsylvania. We were gone for five days. When we got back, our neighbor said Mallory had broken through the fence. I don't know if she was in with his herd."

  Sarah nodded to herself. "It seems like she must've been, because your ewe here is pregnant. I'd like to do an ultrasound to make sure."

  Sarah straightened and turned to Chase. "Can you hold her here?"

  He nodded. Probably.

  "I'll be right back." Sarah hopped the stall wall and disappeared.

  "That's pretty exciting," he said to the girl. "You're gonna have a lamb."

  Amanda's expression wasn't joyful, like he expected. She was biting her lip and wouldn't look him in the eye. "I guess." But she didn't sound excited at all.

  Sarah returned with a bulky machine that she set down in the hay near his boot. She fired it up, prodding the wand against the sheep's stomach.

  "Amanda, can you see the screen?"

  The girl stepped near Sarah.

  Sarah held the wand against the doe's stomach with one hand and pointed at the screen with the other. "Here's a little hoof...the skull." She was quiet for a moment. "And here's the second lamb."

  Again, he expected a different reaction than what the preteen was showing. Her lips pinched in a tight white line. "Twins?"

  "Twins," Sarah confirmed. "If she hasn't been eating enough and is acting lethargic, it could be toxemia. She's not getting enough nutrients."

  Amanda was quiet. He saw the tremble of her bottom lip and the quick blink, as if she were trying to hold back tears. "That's bad, right?"

  "We have some things we can try," Sarah said, her voice even and reassuring. She started to pack up the machine, nodding to him that he could let the sheep go.

  He did, and the animal skittered away.

  "I'm estimating she's got about six weeks left before these lambs are born, and we'll want to watch and make sure we take care of her."

  He and Amanda moved to the edge of the pen. Sarah was quick to follow, toting her machine and her bag.

  "I'll give you some propylene glycol. Your dad can drench her two or three times a day. Something else that works is yogurt diluted with water. The bacteria from the yogurt will stimulate the rumen. If she doesn't go back on her food in a day or two, I want your dad to call me, okay?"

  "Um—" Amanda's eyes skittered off to one side.

  "I'll call your dad first thing in the morning to let him know—"

  "No!" Amanda's outburst shocked Sarah into silence, but the girl quickly continued. "I can tell him."

  Sarah's glance slid to his, then back to the girl.

  "I'll plan to come back out in a couple of days and check on her. In the meantime, you and your dad will want to make sure you're documenting any change in her behavior or diet."

  Amanda nodded gravely. "But what about...? When the babies are born...sometimes doesn't one of the twins get abandoned by its mama?"

  Sarah nodded. "Sometimes. Sometimes, the mom sheep accepts both of them. If not, we'll try for a surrogate mother, or the twin might have to be bottle-fed. It'll be okay. Don't fret."

  Amanda's frown remained, tiny lines fanning around her eyes.

  "We'll walk back up to the house with you," Sarah said. "Make sure you get inside."

  Amanda shrugged, her eyes shifting away, but she bore their company as they trudged back to the ranch house.

  "Did you have a good Christmas?" he asked when the quiet became awkward.

  Amanda shrugged. "It was okay."

  He tried again. "You'll probably want to tell all your friends about the new baby lambs."

  Again, the girl shrugged, her face tucked into her coat. They reached
the ranch house, and she slipped inside the back door with a short wave.

  He followed Sarah to her truck, lugging the ultrasound machine.

  "That seem a little weird to you?" he asked.

  She took the machine from him, stowing it in her perfectly organized truck bed. "There's definitely something going on. I'll call her dad in the morning."

  "Even though she didn't want you to?"

  Sarah shrugged. "Dad's paying the bills, right?"

  He supposed that was true. The preteen couldn't foot the bill for vet care, so it made sense that Sarah would follow up with the rancher to determine a solution for care.

  Sarah shut the tailgate and reached up for the camper shell, closing it as well.

  "I'm following you home," he said.

  She frowned. "Not necessary. Thanks for coming with me, assistant-boy."

  "It's non-negotiable." He didn't want to think about her going inside alone. The police hadn't yet caught the guys who'd attacked her.

  Her frown deepened. He didn't know what the big deal was, but she was obviously unhappy with that thought. Maybe she wanted to be alone to think about Hero some more.

  "Fine."

  He didn't appreciate her tone, but he figured she'd had a lousy night, and it was her birthday. He let the attitude go.

  His headlights illuminated the rough dirt roads and the back of her truck as he followed her back to her little bungalow.

  She wanted Hero. Because the other guy was an attorney? Whatever the reason, she and the big shot lawyer had clicked.

  For the first time, Chase questioned whether he should've tried harder to fit in with his family. He'd wanted something different. Mostly, he’d wanted not to turn into his dad, who still worked sixty-hour weeks and had no plans to retire soon.

  But if working a job like that would've won him a girl like Sarah...

  He got out of the truck when she hit the driveway, but he stayed back while she approached her front door. She went inside with only a little wave.

  He climbed back in his truck and sat for long moments, wishing things were different. Maybe he should feel some kind of hope. Now that Hero had broken things off, Sarah was available, but he figured she still loved the guy.

  And anyway, how could he stand up to Hero? James was a high-powered attorney with a college education and smarts that Chase could never live up to. That was the kind of guy Sarah wanted, and Chase would never be that.

  But he could still be her friend.

  Chapter 3

  Early Monday morning, Sarah sat at her desk and perused her schedule. She had three appointments out of town this afternoon, but... hadn't there been one this morning too?

  She checked her leather bag for the essentials, adding some more gauze bandages to replace what she'd used on a late-evening Saturday call, and made her way to the break room. She needed a cup of coffee. Or two.

  Along the way, she couldn't help ducking in to the kennel area. One of the technicians was cleaning cages and looked up at her entrance.

  "Hey, Dr. Campbell. You back to visit the stray?"

  "Morning, Ian." She stopped in front of the largest kennel, where the huge, black dog raised its head from its paws. A slow wag of its tail rattled the wire side of the cage.

  The Newfoundland mix had been found by a farmer wandering along a road close to town. One of its feet had been broken, and its ribs had been showing. The dog had obviously been abandoned.

  They'd healed the foot and put out flyers, hoping to either find the dog's owner or someone to adopt it.

  They'd had no luck. She worried because a big dog like this was a big commitment, a lot to manage. And it was an adult, not a puppy. The practice wouldn't feed the dog indefinitely. Something about the dog drew her, and she found herself visiting it a little too often. Not smart to get attached.

  "Thanks, Ian," she said, and continued to the break room.

  Two of the three other partners were there, sipping coffee. As was Jessie, who looked at Sarah slightly guiltily. Her assistant wore street clothes.

  The back of Sarah's neck tingled with warning. "What's going on? Aren't you supposed to be on maternity leave?"

  "Jessie came to us with some concerns," Dr. Brown said in his usual matter-of-fact way. "About the extra hours you’re working since she’s been on maternity leave. Above and beyond the occasional night or weekend house call."

  "Are you joking?" Sarah asked.

  The serious expressions told her they weren't. A sense of betrayal roiled in Sarah's gut.

  She straightened her shoulders and fought against the urge to clench her hands into fists. "There's no issue."

  Dr. Everly, the only other woman in the practice, stepped forward, reaching out to put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "We don’t want you to burn yourself out. You came back to work so quickly after…” She fumbled over her words. “After the event. We all thought perhaps you’d want to take more time. Or work half time. There’s no reason to push yourself so hard.”

  Sarah hadn’t been able to stand sitting at home alone. The silence that had surrounded her had allowed too much space for memories and those had been so vivid and frightening…

  “I didn’t—don’t need time off.”

  “What about that call last week? The early-morning one I had to take when you bailed?"

  Sarah's face burned. "That was an isolated event. I woke up nauseated." She’d made it all the way to the door, coat on and medical bag in hand, but hadn’t been able to turn the handle. She hadn’t been able to face the darkness without Jessie by her side.

  Dr. Everly's kind eyes didn't waver. But Sarah had the sense that she knew what had happened.

  "I love this job," Sarah said. Her words were a reminder to herself. She did love this job. "And I'm fine."

  It was just that even the thought of making house calls before dawn and after dark sent tendrils of fear through her.

  "Your passion for the job is not in question," Dr. Brown said.

  "Sarah." Dr. Everly’s tone was a little more compassionate than their male counterpart's. "We know you've been through a lot—"

  "But we can't disappoint our clients, or worse, risk losing an animal," Dr. Brown interrupted. “And we should’ve made arrangements sooner. It’s a security risk, one we hadn’t taken into account until now. You need an assistant.”

  "I don't expect any special treatment." Sarah slashed one hand through the air. She hadn’t required an assistant all the time before Jessie’s leave. "I'm fine."

  She had to stop saying fine, or they'd think something was wrong.

  "We've made a decision," Dr. Everly said. "It's not up for debate."

  More heat boiled into Sarah's face. "I thought I was an equal partner in this practice."

  "You are." Dr. Brown put down his coffee mug. "But you're not going out on calls alone. Not with the two criminals who kidnapped you still on the loose. We've hired a temporary replacement for Jessie until her leave is over."

  Now Sarah propped her hand on her hip. They'd done this behind her back, blindsided her. No warning. No question about how she’d feel about it. She hated knowing she was being handled with kid gloves. She didn't want anyone thinking she couldn't handle the job. She just had to overcome this… this stupid fear. She’d gone head-to-head with angry bulls. She could wrestle her own paranoia. Couldn’t she?

  "It's not up for discussion," Dr. Everly said. The fact that the usually laid-back surgeon was being so firm told Sarah there wasn't a chance of changing their minds.

  She shrugged. "Fine. Who's the loser you got to follow me around?"

  A throat cleared from behind her, and she whirled to find Chase standing the doorway in work boots, jeans, and Stetson.

  "No way." She shook her head. "You already have a job." And had recently been witness to her humiliating breakup.

  "It's the slow season," he said in his calm, slow drawl. "Matt's home for good. Nate doesn't mind me taking a break for a few weeks."

  A glance at her
partners had them nodding, expressions still deadly serious. Jessie still looked guilty. Sarah would forgive her eventually, but for now the feeling of being blindsided held.

  "Fine."

  There it was again, that word.

  That impossible word.

  "Are you really going to give me the silent treatment for the next three weeks?" Chase asked late in the afternoon.

  He sat in the passenger seat of Sarah's pickup as she drove down a bumpy, rutted dirt road. They were halfway between Taylor Hills and the outskirts of Dallas. He hadn't realized her house calls took her so far out of town.

  He was fed up with Sarah's silence. They'd gone the last thirty minutes without talking. She'd been polite but distant in front of her clients and given him a cold shoulder when they'd been alone.

  And he was tired of it.

  "I don't need a babysitter," she muttered, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

  "Nobody said you did," he returned. "Would you call Jessie your babysitter?"

  "I don't want to talk about Jessie." The frown lines around her mouth deepened.

  He knew she had to feel bad about being called out in front of her partners, but he'd overheard some of Jessie's concern that Sarah was working long hours, into the night. That she might be scared to go out to see clients when it was dark. Not that he could blame her.

  "Look,” she said, “I know we've been friends, and I'm sure you took the job because you feel sorry for me, or—"

  "I don't." He felt a lot of things for her, but pity wasn't one of them. "We didn't know each other all that well in high school, but I won't feed you a load of manure. Your partners hired me to help you out. You can sit there and endure it or maybe we can try to have some fun between calls."

  She slid a glance to him, but he couldn't read her.

  "I know I'm not as well-educated as the folks you're used to hanging around—I dropped out of college after my third semester—but I'm here."

  He felt curiosity and something else radiating off of her. "It's not about you, Chase. I don't want my partners to question my abilities."