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Building Bridges
Amy Ruttan
Text Copyright Amy Ruttan 2014
All Rights Reserved
Discover more titles by Amy Ruttan
at www.amyruttan.com
Dedication
For a certain group of crazy ladies, Danica, Griff, Anya and Lea. Much stabby love.
Blurb:
Vet tech Molly has the hots for new rancher William, even though he’s ornery and a bit of a lone wolf. She’s willing to take a chance and enjoy a stolen moment of passion in his arms, but she’s having doubts about leaving everything she knows behind to follow her dream.
William has saved up for years to finally get his grandfather’s ranch up and running again. Escaping into the foothills of Alberta is a good place to hide from the ghosts of his past. All he wants is to be left alone, but that’s kind of hard when a sexy vet tech seems to be always around.
After a sudden storm during an Indian summer forces them indoors, the temperature inside the cabin begins to rise. William helps Molly see that her dream is worth pursuing while she shows him maybe he doesn’t have to be alone after all. As the temperature plummets William gives Molly one ride she’ll never forget.
Chapter One
“Dammit,” Molly cursed as she landed on her ass, sending a poof of dried dark brown soil up into the air. She coughed and waved the dust away from her face and, when it settled, she glared at the colt that had plowed her over.
The colt tossed its mane and nickered in response, before trotting away proudly toward the other side of the corral.
“You think you’re so cute, eh?” She stood and brushed the dust off her jeans. “You’re not. You’re a pain in my side! I don’t need this today.”
“That was quite the show.” The deep drawl came from behind her.
Molly rolled her eyes and spun around to face the smartass, only she forgot the rebuttal that was just about to roll off the tip of her tongue when her eyes focused on the tall cowboy standing two feet from her. He was dressed in denim, a thick hank of rope over his shoulder.
Molly hadn’t seen him around the area before. He was new, but also vaguely familiar. She just couldn’t place him at the moment. Not that it mattered, not when she was covered in dirt and most likely dried manure.
He tipped his white hat back, leaving a few sweaty, dark brown curls pasted to his forehead, and ice blue eyes stared back at her.
“You were doing that all wrong,” he said. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“You can catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar,” Molly replied. What she really wanted to say was, ’mind your own damn business,’ but she was on duty at a client’s large ranch. Her client often had other ranchers over, looking to buy horses. She didn’t want to piss off one of them. That was the last thing she needed to do. If she did she’d have Dr. Shaw reaming her out.
Well, not really. Ronnie Shaw rarely got angry at anyone. He was so laid back.
Plus it was also kind of hard to cuss out such a handsome stranger.
The stranger grinned, teeth gleaming from behind his scruff, the whiteness of them only accentuated by the deep tan. “I suppose you might just be right.”
“I know what I’m doing. I delivered that colt.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You a vet?”
“No.” Not yet anyway. Molly wasn’t a full–fledged vet yet and that was a situation that left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had almost saved up enough money to go to veterinary college, to make up what was lost when her ex fiancéMark stole every last penny she had after she foolishly followed him out east.
Mark was the reason why she trusted no man. Never again would she be so naïve as to let a handsome smile and a nice ass sweep her off her feet.
“I’m a vet tech and I have a specialist degree in Equine health.”
“Is that a fact?”
Molly tried not to roll her eyes. “Look, I’d love to discuss my credentials with you Mr. …”
“Sharples. William Sharples.” He wiped his hand on his jeans and held it out. Molly took it and shook it, firmly squeezing his hand just to show William Sharples that she meant business.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Sharples, but I really have to get a hold of that colt and give him a check–up before the vet gets here.”
She tried to take her hand back, but William wasn’t letting go.
“Seeing how you know my name, don’t you think it’s only fair I know yours?”
“Molly Brooks. I work with Dr. Shaw. I’m his tech.”
William nodded. “Well, you’d think a vet tech would know how to properly handle a colt.” And with that statement, he let go of his hold on her and moved past her toward the stables.
Molly, stunned, watched him walk away.
Ass.
And as she watched him move across the corral she couldn’t help but notice the jackass did indeed have a fine specimen of one.
Stay strong.
“So much for helping out a damsel in distress, eh?” She yelled at him, pleased she got in that last little jab.
He turned around, his eyes twinkling and a strange smile quirking on his lips. “Are you saying you need my help, Ms. Brooks?”
“No. I’m saying a gentleman would’ve offered to assist me.” She picked up her baseball cap from the ground and whacked it against her knee, dislodged a plume of dirt, before slamming it back on her head. “A lady shouldn’t have to ask.”
When she glanced up, she let out a gasp of surprise to see William standing two feet from her. How the Hell did he get over to her so fast? But then she forgot about all that when she realized exactly how close he was. It was a hot, dry, dusty day but she could feel his body heat against her bare arms, causing a shiver to run down her spine. The scent of leather and the outdoors made her weak in the knees. She loved the smell of a cowboy.
This isn’t staying strong.
Suddenly she forgot why she was angry at him in the first place.
Damn cowboys. They didn’t always leave her a raving fool, but there was something about William Sharples. He was dangerous and she would have to keep her distance from him.
“Do you need some help?” he asked, breaking the silence. There was a hint of humor in his voice, as if he knew she was ogling him in her mind.
“Are you offering?” She responded, trying to sound like she didn’t care and that he didn’t affect her at all.
“Nope.”
“Nope? That’s all you have to say.”
“Yep.” He grinned, his eyes twinkling.
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m not a gentleman.” He chuckled, tipping his hat and turning back to the stables.
Molly was sure her mouth was hanging open.
“Ass,” she murmured under her breath, as he disappeared into the stables.
“Who are you talking to?”
Molly turned to see Dr. Shaw standing behind her. Crap. “I don’t know. He said his name was William Sharples. I think he’s new to these parts.”
Dr. Shaw raised his eyebrows. “Really? That name sounds familiar though.”
“I thought he looked familiar.”
And William Sharples did. Something was tugging at her memory, but the name wasn’t familiar at all.
There were no Sharples that she knew of within a hundred kilometers.
Dr. Shaw smiled. It was warm and friendly. He was a handsome man, tall with curly, ruddy hair and blue eyes, and her mother was constantly pushing her to ask him out on a date. Ronnie Shaw was a catch, handsome and well off, with a secure job. He was friendly and easy to talk to, but he was like a big brother to Molly.
“You always pick the most inappropriate men! Look at Mark.”
And maybe her mother was right. She seemed to fall for the love �
��em and leave ’em type of men, and look at how well that worked out. Her mother accused her of being afraid to settle down and that’s why she made poor choices.
Dr. Shaw was the kind of guy you settled down with. He offered stability and comfort and Molly wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
She was free floating.
Focus! Career first, men later.
“Have you got the colt ready for me yet?” Dr. Shaw asked, as he set down his medical bag.
“No. I had a little issue.” She nodded in the direction of the colt, which was still trotting around in circles at the other end of the corral.
“Well, let’s get him roped and with the others. I have to head out to Olds to check on a herd of cattle.”
Molly nodded and picked the hank of rope up, but not without glancing back at the stables where William had disappeared. She had the feeling she was being watched and, if it was by who she thought it was, it made her pulse quicken with anticipation.
Too bad the guy was such an ass.
William watched Molly and he couldn’t help but smile. She was feisty. There was a spirit there, but something more–something she was holding back–and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was and why she restrained it.
You’re one to talk.
It was true. He was one to talk about suppressing spirits. Sure, he’d come back to Alberta to take over his grandfather’s ranch, bring it to its former glory, but he heard the rumors. People saying he was just a city boy and what he planned to do with his grandpa’s ranch was pointless. He was sure he could make the ranch successful, but there was a part of him still wondering if he were really just running away. He had to keep reminding himself his musical career hadn’t failed. It was just on hiatus.
He just couldn’t handle the rising popularity and the pressure got to him. There was no way he was going to head down the path of losing himself in adulation, using drinks and drugs to cope and no one being sincere. No one caring unless he was on top. Stardom was not for him. Writing music was. Though his muse was elusive lately.
William was hoping his grandfather’s ranch would help his creative juices flow.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one in town hiding something. When he looked at Molly he saw secrets hidden in those dark brown eyes. What was she hiding?
Who cares?
He didn’t want to get involved. William didn’t have time for a relationship but, then again, who said it had to be a relationship? Maybe it could just be physical.
Just at the thought of Molly naked underneath him, his hands on her lithe body, her chocolate eyes glazed over in passion, his fingers tangled in her brown hair as he took her from behind set his blood to boiling.
There was no room in his starched jeans at the moment and he tried to think of something else, but he couldn’t, not while he was in close vicinity to her.
Then he saw a good looking man approach her, smiling and talking with her pleasantly. Was this old Dr. Shaw everyone had been talking about? William was picturing a greying, leathery old cowhand.
The easy way Molly conversed with the other man caused William’s green eyed monster to rear its ugly head. Why was he jealous? He’d just met this woman. He had no claim on her and he had no idea if she was even single.
He doubted she was single.
Someone as spirited, rough and tumble and downright beautiful in this country wouldn’t be single for long. She knew about ranching, she wasn’t afraid to get dirty and she cussed like the best of them.
William chuckled to himself.
Dr. Shaw was a lucky man and William was envious, because Molly was the type of woman he’d settle down with if he was aiming to settle down. Which he wasn’t.
With a sigh of dismay, William turned away.
Molly Brooks was off limits.
Which was a damn shame, but a necessity.
Chapter Two
Molly ached from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She thought a nice hot shower and a good night’s sleep would do the trick, perhaps she was getting older?
You’re only thirty for God’s sake.
It had taken a lot longer than she’s anticipated to rustle up that wayward colt. The spirited thing was more trouble than it was worth and the farmer was adamant about selling the colt as soon as he was able.
Which saddened Molly, because she’d helped foal him and he almost didn’t survive the birth. She’d nursed him back. Sure he was a pain, but she hated to see him go at an auction. Who knows where he’d end up?
I wish I could take him.
Only she had no place to keep him. She had a small apartment over her mother’s garage and her Mom’s backyard wasn’t conducive to feisty colts.
Besides all her extra money went to saving up for Vet College in Calgary. She was going to pay her own way. She wasn’t going to graduate with a mountain of debt. She was going to do things on her own terms. She was going to hold her head up high and know she did it all herself.
All those naysayers who thought she was a failure, well, she was going to show them a thing or two.
Today, she was going to finish up with the colts and move on to training the newest mare to cut her client’s herd of black belly sheep.
She grabbed a hank of rope from her truck and her rucksack, and as she turned around she ran smack dab into William Sharples. Great, this is just what she needed today. William who both distracted and annoyed her at the same time.
Curse good looking, sexy, annoying cowboys.
He tipped the brim of his cowboy hat and smiled.
Bastard.
Molly groaned. “Oh lord.”
“Well, a howdy to you too.” William’s eyes were twinkling. “I was going to say good morning, but it looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“No, I just have a lot of work to do.”
“Not surprising, since you could barely handle that cold from yesterday.”
“Are you intentionally here to make my day bad or was this just a happy coincidence?”
He grinned. “Happy coincidence.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Well if you don’t mind. I have work to do.” She tried to leave, but he fell into step beside her.
“You look pissed off.”
“I’m not pissed off. Just busy.”
“Huh, Dr. Shaw seems to have a busy practice for his tech.”
“He does.” Molly slung the rope over the side of the corral so she could open the gate. She was hoping by keeping her answers short and to the point William would bugger off, but he wasn’t getting the hint, because instead of “buggering” off he helped her open the gate and followed her into the corral.
“Should you be in here?” She asked. “Mr. Maarten doesn’t like too many strangers in his corral. He’s breeding horses to sell and unauthorized people can carry disease.”
“Are you implying I’m diseased?” William asked.
“Hey if the shoe fits…” she chuckled to herself.
“Ha ha.” He closed the gate behind them, latching it.
“Look, I’m serious. Mr. Maarten doesn’t like strangers–”
“In his corral. I get it. I have permission.”
She cocked her eyebrow. “Really?”
“I’m looking at buying some horses. I have one and I want to expand.”
“Really? You never did tell me what kind of ranch you have.”
“No. I guess I didn’t.” He picked up the rope and slung it around his arm, not answering her question. He was such a pain in her side, but a nice to look at pain.
She headed over to the nearest colt. “Easy boy.”
The colt didn’t even make a move to dash away at her approach. Not like her little Hell raiser from yesterday.
This one just flicked his tail and waited patiently as she let him sniff her and ran a hand gently on his head.
“Can you tie him to the fence?”
“Sure.” William didn’t even ask what for, as she slipped on a filly slip
bridle and fed the rope through. “He’s not bitted?”
“Not yet.” She glanced up at him as she knelt down to prepare the vaccination. “You want to raise horses?”
“Yes, ma’am. I plan to breed them and teach them to cut and barrel race.”
“How much do you know about them?”
“Not a whole lot, but maybe if I find a good vet or vet tech.”
Molly snorted and finished prepping the shot. “You can’t afford me.”
“Really?” He didn’t look concerned. “Is that a fact and how would you know the state of my financials?”
“You’re starting up with a failed ranch right?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
Molly shrugged. “I would’ve heard about the construction of a new ranch around these parts. The rumor mill around these parts is active to say the least. Could you hold him steady for me please?”
She administered the shot to the yearling colt, who let out a nicker of displeasure at being vaccinated with a booster.
“You can let him go.” Molly wiped up the injection site. “Calm down, boy. You’re okay.”
“Okay, so I bought a failing ranch, but that still doesn’t explain how you know about my financials.”
Molly put her instruments back in her bag, so they wouldn’t get knocked into the dirt when she grabbed the next yearling. “It does actually. It takes a lot of capital to fix up a dying or dead ranch.”
“You’re assuming too much,” William said with bitterness in his tone.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just what I’ve seen time and time again. Big city boy comes into town with dreams of being a farmer.”
“How do you know I’m from the city?”
“Your accent. You’re from out east somewhere, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. You’re definitely not a Newfie or a Maritimer.” She released the yearling from the filly slip bridle and the colt took off, thankful to get away from her.
He grinned. “Are you saying I’m from Quebec?”
“Okay, not Quebec either. You’re not a francophone.”
“Not everyone in Quebec is French, just like every Albertan isn’t a cattle farmer. You’re stereotyping!”
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 11