Hearts Don't Lie

by Shirleen Davies

  Sean hurried to catch up, wanting to figure this out between the two of them. “She was in a hurry, probably didn’t register what you were asking.”

  Mitch stopped, not wanting to deal with what appeared to be a disconnect between him and the vet. “We need to separate them.”

  “Agreed. I’ll speak with Emilio and Fritz. When will Wheaton get back to us on the test results?”

  “She didn’t say, but you can count on me calling her at first light tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday, Mitch.”

  “Do you think I care? We have thousands of dollars of sick bulls here. I want answers and don’t care what day of the week I get them.” Mitch stomped up the stairs to his office, slamming the door closed behind him as he grabbed his phone to call Heath, not wanting to bother Rafe during his recovery.

  Ten minutes later he hung up, both agreeing not to say a word to Rafe, at least for a few more days when they’d have answers. Heath agreed with isolating the sick bulls and moving the calves to another location. They settled on moving the calves to Mitch’s place, and bulls scheduled to compete, to Rafe’s ranch. The remainder had already been relocated to the other end of the RTC stockyard. At least the vulnerable calves would be at my place, Mitch thought.

  The last had Mitch sitting up straight and checking his watch. It had been over five hours since he’d left Dana. Cursing under his breath, he raced down the stairs to the pens where Sean spoke to several of their men.

  “I’m heading out. Keep me posted on any changes.” Mitch dashed past without a backward glance, leaving the men to stare after him.

  “What was that about?” Emilio asked Sean.

  “I have no idea.”

  ******

  Mitch could see one dim light through the windows before pushing open the front door and stepping inside. Not seeing Dana, he checked the bedroom, study, then looked past the living room to the kitchen before spotting her curled up on the sofa. His face softened at the sound of her soft snores.

  He sat beside her, careful not to break her deep sleep. After their workout last night, she deserved a long rest. Although he doubted his ability to keep his hands off her all night.

  His stomach’s growl reminded Mitch he hadn’t eaten in hours. Grabbing a blanket, he laid it over her, then went searching for something to control his hunger until Dana woke up. Mitch came up short spotting the salmon and sliced vegetables in the refrigerator, and box of pasta on the counter. Looking at what she’d prepared, he had a pretty good idea of the plan for dinner.

  His attempt at quiet failed about ten minutes into the cooking when he spotted Dana, still wrapped in the blanket, plodding up to him. Setting down the wooden spatula, he couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around her for the kiss she offered. Breaking the kiss and stepping away, she looked around to see all the food laid out on the counter.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “I’ve been home maybe thirty minutes. I don’t know how long ago you passed out.” He picked up the spatula, sautéing the vegetables as the pasta boiled in a large pot. “About ten more minutes and we can eat.”

  “I know you make a mean breakfast. I had no idea your skills extended to dinner.” She smiled, covering her mouth when it turned into a yawn.

  “Lady, I have a lot of skills you don’t know about.” His knowing grin wasn’t lost on Dana as he poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. “The next time you’re here I want us to take a ride up into the mountains and camp at a spot I know. It’s private with the best view of the stars and valley below.”

  She liked the thought, hoping he’d still want her in his life for many weekends to come.

  ******

  Mitch grabbed Dana’s bag and set it on the sidewalk outside the airport entry. The weekend had raced by faster than anticipated and they’d had to hurry to make her flight early Monday morning.

  “Thanks for a wonderful time.” Dana’s smile lit her face as she looked up at him.

  “With all the mess with the animals, I don’t know when I’ll get to Fire Mountain.” Dana couldn’t decipher the look that crossed his face. “Would you mind flying up here on Friday? I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “I’d like that.” She wanted to throw her arms around him, but they’d made a pact not to get too friendly in public places where someone might know him, and she was determined to keep her part of the bargain. Crossing her arms, Dana glanced behind her, wanting to catch her plane, but not anxious to leave. “Well, I guess I’d better go.”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you Friday.”

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, then gave him a vague smile. “Friday.”

  Nodding, he turned his back to her, taking a few steps toward the truck, then spun around, taking long strides to catch her. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her toward him, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, not stepping away until he’d gotten what he wanted.

  “Friday, Dana,” he said again before turning toward his truck.

  Her feet stayed planted in place until he’d pulled away, waving once as he drove off. Touching her fingers to her lips, she turned, took a deep breath, and walked toward the gate.

  ******

  Juggling a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, Mitch used his foot to push open the office door, surprised to see Sean, Sky, Sam, and Rhett waiting for him.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I hear anymore. Right.” He hung up from the call and setting his coffee down, turned toward them, wracking his brain to recall if he’d missed something. “Am I late for a meeting?”

  Sean shot a look at Skye, who sat forward in her chair, doing her best to hide a grin.

  “Fritz took his aunt to the airport this morning.”

  “Yeah?” Mitch asked her.

  “He saw someone who looked remarkably like you with a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Dana, kissing.”

  Mitch snorted, wondering what the odds were one of his employees would’ve spotted him saying goodbye to Dana. “And?”

  “And was it? You and Dana?”

  He crossed his arms, shooting them a hostile scowl that would’ve warned off anyone else. If he said yes, they’d want answers he couldn’t give them, and he’d be betraying his promise to Dana. If he said no, he’d be lying.

  The ringing of his phone provided a reprieve. He glanced at the others before answering the call.

  “Pop, how are you feeling?” Ignoring their suspicious looks, he continued the conversation, avoiding a discussion of the sick bulls, then handed the phone to Sean. “He wants to talk about rodeo stats.”

  “Hey, Pop.” Sean paced away, lowering his voice.

  “Come on, Mitch. What’s going on with you and Dana?” Samantha never pushed him about personal issues, at least not the way Skye did. More reserved, she tended to mind her own business. He also knew Sam liked Dana and had formed a bond with her. He hated shutting her down.

  “I can’t explain what Fritz saw, but listen up. My personal life is just that—personal. Now, are any of you in here to discuss business? If you’re not, I’d suggest you get back to work.”

  He noticed the look of disbelief on their faces as they turned toward the door. None of them bought his brush-off.

  “For what it’s worth,” Rhett said as he stepped into the hall, “I like her.” He flashed Mitch a grin, then disappeared.

  Sean hung up with Rafe and handed the phone back to Mitch. “He’s a little concerned about the latest rodeo statistics. Nothing major. It was a good decision not to say anything to him about the sick bulls.”

  “I’m still waiting for a call back from Doc Wheaton. She never responded yesterday.”

  “Probably didn’t have any news on the tests. We’ve done all we can for now, moving the calves to your place and our prime bulls to the pens behind Pop’s house. Emilio and Fritz will go out to both places each day to check on the animals until we know what’s going on.”

  Mitch kept his expression blank at the menti
on of relocating the calves to his place. He hadn’t expected Sean and the other men to arrive unannounced early Sunday morning with the animals. He and Dana were in the shower when Sean pounded on his bedroom door, letting Mitch know what they were doing. At least the door had been closed so Sean couldn’t see Dana’s bag or clothes scattered about.

  “Mitch, are you listening?”

  “Sorry. I got distracted.”

  Sean leaned against the desk, studying Mitch and wondering when he’d fess up about Dana. He’d spotted her purse yesterday morning in the kitchen when he grabbed water for the men, but wouldn’t push, knowing Mitch would talk about it when he felt like it, and not before.

  “Do you think we should get another doctor out here?”

  Mitch had been thinking the same. “A second opinion wouldn’t hurt. Do you know of someone?”

  “I haven’t met him, but Fritz’s cousin is a vet. Started a practice in town about a year ago. He’d keep it discreet.”

  “Get him out here. The sooner the better.”

  Both men turned as the office door opened and their receptionist poked her head in. “There’s a call for you, Mitch, on the main line from a Matt Garner. Do you want me to take a message?”

  “No, I’d better take this one.” He looked at Sean. “Call the second vet and Doc Wheaton again. See if you can speed her up.”

  Sean nodded, closing the door as he left.

  “This is Mitch MacLaren.”

  “We haven’t met, but I’m—”

  “I know who you are, Garner. What can I do for you?” He put the call on speaker and leaned back.

  Matt cleared his throat before continuing. “First, I was sorry to hear about your father. I never met him, but I’ve known the MacLarens most of my life.”

  “That’s what I hear from Cassie. Go on.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you have. Anyway, Gage Templeton and I were talking over the potential of partnering on some rodeo contracts and think it’s a good idea. At least to test out a couple times, see if there’s a fit and we both make money.”

  Mitch leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “That’s good news. What’s the next step?”

  “Well, we have a little hesitancy given what’s been going on at RTC with the sick bulls, steroid tests, and all. We want to make certain there isn’t something deeper going on we need to know about.”

  “Such as?”

  “Look, Mitch. I’m going to spell out what I’ve learned and you tell me if I’m off base.”

  “Go on.”

  “Stock contracting is a small world. News travels fast and old news sticks with those who have a history in the sport. Gage asked me to poke around. What first grabbed my attention were some anonymous social media posts about RTC and your problems.”

  This got Mitch’s attention. “Where were these posts?”

  “On some association and bull contracting sites with blogs. Also on a few Facebook pages the contractors use for promotion. It’s not often you see this stuff except on some known sites that specialize in degrading the business.”

  “Could you find out who posted them?”

  “All we could find was they came from an Internet service provider who services Crooked Tree. Appears they may have been posted by someone right in your back yard. Unfortunately, we can’t go further without dealing with law enforcement. I was able to find out some other information which might interest you.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “You may not remember, but years ago, RTC bought out a failing stock contractor in Wyoming. Got it for a song. The owner had gotten deep in debt, had some other problems, and eventually drank himself to death, but not before unloading his business to RTC for cheap.”

  Mitch tried to recall Rafe saying anything about it. “May have been while I was still in school. Do you have names?”

  “Dayton Hazard. He owned Hazard Stock Contracting.”

  “Now I remember. I don’t know how much my father and his partners knew about the personal issues, but I do recall talk of them buying him out. Must have been at least ten years ago.”

  “Eleven. Here’s what you need to know. According to the old timers I spoke with, Hazard lost all the money RTC paid him to a gambling habit, filed bankruptcy, and went through a divorce. The family was pretty much destitute, and from what I hear, blamed RTC for pushing Hazard to sell.”

  “Obviously Hazard hadn’t been straight with his family,” Mitch said.

  “That’s a given. Anyway, he had two daughters. One lives in Florida. The other lives in Crooked Tree and is a veterinarian. Gayle Wheaton.”

  Mitch cursed, slamming a hand on the desk. “That’s our vet.”

  “Look, I found nothing to connect her to your problems, but I’m also not big on coincidences.”

  “Neither am I.” Mitch thought of her advice about the calves and her not responding to his phone message. “I appreciate the information, Garner.”

  “Let me know if I can do any more checking for you. Sometimes an outside person can accomplish more with a few good questions.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Let’s plan to meet once we get through this situation.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll wait to hear from you, Mitch.”

  The information Matt provided rolled around in Mitch’s mind. He dragged a hand down his face, thinking back at all that had happened since Wheaton had become their vet. They’d lost thousands of dollars, dealt with doubts about their reputations, and looked to longtime employees as being behind the troubles.

  Neither he nor Sean had suspected their problems might have been created by the person tasked with keeping the stock well. He wondered how far someone would go to seek revenge from a perceived wrong. Pretty damn far, he thought as he walked out the back door and down the stairs to the pens.

  ******

  “It appears to me your bulls have contracted bovine respiratory syncytial virus, or BRSV. From reading the medication log, it doesn’t look as if what Doctor Wheaton administered was the right antibiotic for this virus, which is possible since she didn’t have test results when she administered the drugs.” Veterinarian Dieter Palmer, Fritz’s cousin, had come right over after receiving the request. “I’ve dealt a lot with this virus and I’m sure you’re aware how quick it can spread, particularly in young bulls.”

  “I know you’re in a tough situation, coming in and reviewing another doctor’s work. We have to do what’s right for the animals. What’s your recommendation?” Mitch rested his hands on his hips, frustrated at the lost time and declining health of the bulls.

  “Give me the okay to administer the right antibiotics.”

  “Done.”

  Mitch turned toward Sean, Emilio, and Fritz while the doc went to his truck for the medication.

  “Doctor Wheaton is not to get anywhere near our animals. Send her to me or Sean when she shows up.”

  “Got it, boss.” Emilio scratched his chin, shaking his head. “I still don’t understand how anyone could carry a grudge this long, especially one so unfounded.”

  Before Doc Palmer arrived, Mitch had explained what he’d learned about Wheaton to Sean, as well as the potential for working with Double Ace in the future. Sean then told Emilio and Fritz about their suspicions, not mentioning Matt Garner’s name.

  “I have a call into Pop’s partners. One of them might remember something.” Mitch looked at Emilio. “Right now, you’re the only one who worked here when they purchased Hazard.”

  “I’ve got to say I don’t recall much other than the partners bought Hazard out for a great price. What I do remember is they didn’t haggle with him. He set the amount and they snapped it up.”

  “Too good a deal to pass up,” Sean commented, watching Doc Palmer as he administered the antibiotics. At least they’d contained the illness to a few bulls. The isolation should help keep the others safe.

  “May have been the best acquisition they ever made. I may be wrong, but if you trace it back, I believe Absolut
e Devil eventually came out of that purchase. One of Hazard’s bulls is the sire.”

  “All right, I’ve given them the antibiotics.” Doc Palmer washed his hands, keeping his eyes on the bulls. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to check on them. Unless you’d rather Doctor Wheaton continue from here.”

  “No,” Mitch and Sean replied in unison.

  “We need to speak with Wheaton and get an explanation before we make any firm decisions. For now, I’d ask you to stick with this until the bulls are well.” Mitch grabbed his ringing phone, seeing the call came from Dana, and answered. “Hey. Hold on a minute.” Taking a step toward the parking area, Mitch set his gaze on Palmer. “We want to keep this quiet until we know what happened.”

  “Understood.” Doc Palmer grabbed his bag, shook hands, and left as Mitch disappeared in front of the building.

  Mitch wished it were otherwise, but as soon as he’d seen Dana’s name pop up on caller ID, a little of the weight he felt lifted. “How are you?”

  “Good. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “No. It looks like we may be hiring a new vet. I’ll explain all about it when I see you this weekend.”

  “That’s why I called. Heath and Annie are having some shindig at their place Friday night. It’s a combination work and family event, although I get the impression it’s not entirely voluntary.”

  “You do what you need to do, Dana.”

  She could hear the disappointment in his voice and felt the same.

  “I could still come up Saturday morning, unless you’d rather I not.”

  He didn’t like either his dissatisfaction at the change or his anticipation when she still wanted to fly up. His deal had been no attachments, just a casual relationship between friends, with benefits. Feeling anything more didn’t fit his plan.

  “I want to see you. I’ll send the flight details.”

  “That’s great. Should I bring up my own boots this time?”

  He could almost see her smile through the phone. She’d used an old pair the weekend before, wearing two pairs of socks to fit the larger size.

  “Probably a good idea. See you Saturday.” He slid the phone back in his pocket, a grin still playing across his face as he turned around to see Sean standing a few feet away. “You got something you want to say?” he asked as the grin slipped from his face.