by Leslie North
"Wait, what?" Ava choked on her wine, coughing.
Bran burst out laughing so loudly that people in the chairs around them turned to stare. "Well," he said, gesturing toward the stage where Hunter stood looking beyond miserable, "she’s about to win him, unless Nadine’s ready to cough up five hundred dollars."
"I have four hundred and seventy-five dollars for our fine local veterinarian and a picnic in sheep country," the auctioneer said. "Do I hear five hundred? Miss Nadine?"
Nadine’s Dolly Parton blonde bouffant wiggled on top of her head, looking precariously close to falling right off.
"Well, I don’t know," Nadine said loudly, drawing out the words in her best Texas twang. "He’s a mighty fine specimen, but I do get to see him every week for free when he comes in to the diner for breakfast with Bran."
The crowd laughed, and the auctioneer continued. "All right, folks, we have a bid of four hundred seventy-five dollars…"
Kit looked at her boss right as he looked at her. Their eyes met, and she saw the desperation there. She also saw the hard jaw, perfect scruff, and very nice pecs under his t-shirt.
"Going once!" the auctioneer called.
Kit’s lips began to move before her brain had a chance to step in.
"Going twice…"
"Five hundred!" she hollered, shocking herself as much as anyone else in the room. Ava squeaked, and Bran swore under his breath. "I’ll bid five hundred," Kit repeated, much more quietly this time.
"I have five hundred from the lovely lady in row three," the auctioneer said with a wink at Kit. "Do I hear five twenty-five?"
Eunice shook her head, staring daggers at Kit.
"Five hundred going once, five hundred going twice…"
Kit’s heart flipped over once inside her chest.
"Sold! To the blonde in row three."
Dear God. What had she done?
Hunter Beckett stomped off stage as the auctioneer moved on to the next bachelor. What in God’s name had his new resident been thinking? She’d hardly been here a week, he barely knew her, but he would have thought it would be standard practice not to bid on your boss at a bachelor auction. What would the state board think?
It was bad enough they were all up in his business with their requirements that he supervise residents. That had forced him to take Kit on, and now he was stuck with one of the sexiest women he’d ever laid eyes on. She was in his office, in his exam rooms, and in his life for the next three months. He’d started counting the days until she’d be done the moment she’d walked in and he’d forgotten how to breathe.
But now he was supposed to take her on a date? He felt certain that was not what the board had in mind with their requirements. And it definitely wasn’t what he had in mind for his life right now. He didn’t date for a reason—he was far too busy taking care of every animal in the county along with his brothers.
He made his way off the stage and headed straight for the buffet table, where a metal bucket full of ice and bottles of Bud Light was calling his name in the worst way.
"Well, if it isn’t the star of the auction." His brother Bran appeared, slapping him on the shoulder harder than necessary.
"I hate this auction, and I’m never agreeing to it again," Hunter answered, popping the cap off a bottle of beer and chugging half in one long swallow.
"But you made five hundred dollars for the library. My kid thanks you. The library’s about the only place we can get Cam to sit still. If I could move the whole building to the ranch, I would."
Hunter leaned against the wall next to the buffet table and sighed. What a clusterfuck this night had become.
"So, uh, what’s up with you and Kit?" Bran asked with a grin. "She sure did jump in there to save your ass. And for a pretty penny, too."
Hunter took another long draft from his beer. "Nothing’s up. She could tell I was about to be sacrificed to a woman who thinks her dog prefers RuPaul to a normal vet. She did the only decent thing. My sister-in-law could’ve tried the same tactic.” He gave his brother some side-eye. “You know, if she really cared about me."
Bran threw his head back and laughed as Hunter scowled at him. "You didn’t tell us to rescue you, or we’d have been happy to oblige. Plus, Eunice and her bulldog together don’t come close to outweighing you, so I wasn’t too concerned."
"I was," Hunter muttered. Then he saw Ava and Kit approaching, and to his extreme consternation, his stomach fluttered—fucking fluttered—like a butterfly. It had been doing that same thing since the first time he’d seen her. This was entirely unacceptable, and not much that was unacceptable made its way into Hunter’s world.
"Hi, there," Ava said, leaning in and kissing Hunter’s cheek before Bran snaked a possessive arm around her waist.
"Hey," Hunter said, looking at Kit instead of his sister-in-law.
"So, uh…" Kit looked as uncomfortable as Hunter felt. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her blue eyes had an unfocused quality that told him she’d been drinking.
"I guess you rescued me," he said, giving her a small smile.
"Yes! Yes, that’s what I was explaining to Ava and Bran. I couldn’t let you get pulled into the bulldog-drag-queen net again. That woman’s relentless."
Ava and Bran moved farther down the length of the table, Bran reaching for another beer and Ava filling a bowl with Chex mix.
"Well, I appreciate it. I’ll have the office reimburse you. I should have set it up for one of the staff to buy me, anyway. I can write it off the taxes, and it saves…well, it’s just easier all the way around," he finished, polishing off his beer with only the third draft.
"Oh, no," Kit said, looking at him earnestly. "You don’t have to do that. I would have made a donation to the library anyway. I just loved the library when I was growing up."
Hunter’s stomach did more of that fluttering thing, and it was all he could do not to run out the door and keep on going until he hit the Oklahoma state line.
Suddenly, a tremendous crash sounded, and several women screamed. Hunter threw out an arm in front of Kit to prevent her from moving until he could see what was happening.
“Percy’s llama is loose!” someone yelled from the behind the stage, swiftly followed by another crash.
Kit’s eyes grew wide as she looked at Hunter.
“Well, hell,” he muttered before setting his empty bottle on the table next to him. “I guess you can come along,” he told Kit, “might as well meet Lorenzo, just in case you ever see him sauntering down Main Street.”
This, Hunter thought as he made his way to the back of the stage to corral the angry llama, this was why he had no time for women.
2
Hunter wiped his hands on the hand towel Mrs. Hampton gave him and sat back on his heels. “Well, that’s the last one.” He patted the little King Charles spaniel on the head as her litter of seven puppies squirmed and wriggled to get closer to her teats.
“Oh, Dr. Beckett, I can’t thank you enough for coming out in the middle of the night like this,” Jordina Hampton said, picking at the cuffs of her long flannel nightgown.
Hunter moved one of the puppies closer to his food source before standing and smiling at the worried older woman. “She did great, so I don’t want you to worry anymore, okay? She can sense your mood, and the best thing you can do for her is trust that she has the right instincts to do what she needs to.”
The older woman nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Doctor. I just don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Hunter smiled in response and patted her hand.
She insisted he take a plate of cookies with him when he left. He put the cookies on the passenger seat before climbing into his truck, bone-tired. He’d crawled out of bed at one a.m. when Mrs. Hampton called, knowing her spaniel didn’t need him, but she did. Ever since Mrs. Hampton’s husband had passed away, the spaniel had become her everything, and while the dog knew how to have puppies, Mrs. Hampton didn’t know how to watch the dog having puppies.
Now it was four-thirty in the morning, and everything was still, in that moment of pause between darkness and dawn. The creatures of the nighttime were receding, going to sleep, while the harbingers of the morning were beginning to wake, ruffling feathers, stretching legs, opening eyes.
He sat for a moment, looking into the blue-black around Mrs. Hampton’s little house just outside of town. His phone chimed, and he picked it up to find a text from his brother Scout. Four-thirty was wake-up time at the dairy farm Scout ran.
When you wake up I need you to take a look at a few of our chickens. Thinking maybe we have some egg drop syndrome going on.
Well, hell, Hunter thought, closing his eyes for a moment. Might as well head out there now. He cranked the engine and shifted into drive. It was the third time this week he’d been out most of the night on calls. Eventually, he was going to have to catch up on his sleep, but as long as the county was full of animals and his brothers were his brothers, he’d be driving from farm to ranch to house to office and back again.
Because Hunter had responsibilities, and he was a very responsible guy.
Kit was awakened by her phone.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, sitting up in bed and trying not to sound as though she’d been dead asleep at nine a.m. on a Saturday.
“Hey, Kit Kat,” her dad answered cheerfully. “You still in bed?”
“Um, yeah. I’m going out to vaccinate some sheep in a while, but I didn’t need to be in the office this morning. The vet tech is having a shot clinic.”
“Sheep vaccines?” Her dad scoffed. “Sounds like a lot of bleating and wool.”
She rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her.
“So what did you need, Dad?”
“I’m filling out the paperwork for your mother’s insurance, and I wondered when exactly you’ll be able to get back here? I need to calculate how much homecare help we’ll need for the next few months. Once I know your schedule to take over the business, I can calculate how many hours I’ll be here at home with her, then supplement with the homecare.”
Kit felt her lungs tighten incrementally.
“You know I have another ten weeks of my residency.”
“Of course, but when will you be back here, and how long do you think you’ll need to get up and running so I can start staying home with your mom? If you hustle back as soon as you’re done there, I’m thinking we could have you comfortable with everything in a couple weeks, and I could go to half time, then phase out entirely in another two weeks. I’ll always be able to come help if you need a substitute or there’s some sort of emergency, but I’m hoping you can take over after a month or so. What do you think?”
Kit rubbed her eyes with her free hand and counted to ten. This residency was her last chance at freedom before she had to commit the rest of her life to practicing small animal medicine in the clinic that had been her father’s dream, never hers. All she wanted was to live in denial in Gopher Springs for a few weeks, get the experience she’d never be able to at her dad’s clinic, and dream about her sexy new boss. She knew it was all a fantasy, but reality would come soon enough without thinking about it a lot.
“Yeah, Dad, that sounds fine, I guess.”
“Good, then I can figure on being home full-time in about four months, give or take. Your mama is going to be so happy, Kit Kat. We’re really looking forward to this new arrangement.”
Kit murmured her agreement and ended the call as quickly as possible. Then she grabbed her laptop, pulled up the most recent research on sheep and vaccinations, and started to prepare for the rest of her day.
She knew it wasn’t really a date—not with her uber-serious boss who didn’t have time for dating—but it was her first chance to work with large animals, and she’d be damn sure she knew what she was doing.
3
Kit loved animals. She always had. Her father’s veterinary practice in Houston was all house pets—dogs, cats, the occasional hamster—and Kit loved those little darlings, but she also loved big animals. Horses. Cows. Sheep. Goats. And more than anything, Kit wanted to get credentialed in large-animal care. She knew she’d never be able to use it when she finally took over her father’s practice, but while she still had the freedom to choose her own path in life—the freedom that would end in a few months—she wanted to fulfill that dream.
Thus far, however, her residency with Hunter Beckett had been a disappointment. She knew Hunter had never taken on a resident before, but Kit had done her research. Hunter had a thriving large-animal practice, was well-respected throughout the state, and his window for taking on a resident was closing. Once Ava mentioned him, Kit had pursued him aggressively, and when she’d just about given up hope, he’d called and agreed to be her residency supervisor.
What she hadn’t counted on was Hunter leaving her in the office to take care of every Chihuahua and house cat in Gopher Springs while he went out and handled the farm animals. Until today, that had been the way the office ran.
"You mind grabbing my bag?" Hunter asked as he lifted a large picnic basket out of the truck bed.
They’d just pulled up in front of the Andersons’ sheep farm, and Hunter had the picnic provisions for their date as well as his supplies for vaccinating the flock. Kit hadn’t thought about it this way when she’d made the winning bid for the date, but she’d set up the perfect opportunity to get some big-animal experience.
"Sure thing," she answered, pulling the big black suitcase out of the truck bed and following Hunter toward the barn.
"Vaccinations first?" Hunter asked.
"Okay," Kit replied, reminding herself that this wasn’t a real date, so she shouldn’t be staring at Hunter’s broad shoulders as he walked ahead of her.
They set up in one of the indoor/outdoor stalls of the barn. Mr. Anderson and his teenage sons would stuff the sheep into what became essentially a chute, Hunter would hold the creature, Kit would jam the needle in, depress the plunger, then Hunter would smack the woolly bundle on the hindquarters to send it out the opposite end of the stall from where it had come in. By the time they were done, sixty-seven sheep were gathered in the corral outside the barn, all of them bleating in protest.
Mr. Anderson, his boys, and two anxiety-ridden sheep dogs began herding the flock back out to the nearby pasture while Hunter cleaned up his equipment and packed it away.
"You did great," he told Kit as she watched his efficient movements and competent hands. "That’s your first time with sheep?"
"Yes, but I read up ahead of time. I wanted to make sure I was actually helpful."
He nodded and gave her a quick smile. "But your father’s practice is small animals, right?"
"Yes, but—"
"Well, it’ll be a lot easier giving vaccines to Goldendoodles than to these guys, although some of the doodles I’ve seen have fur that’s almost as thick as a sheep’s."
Kit didn’t answer, although the idea of spending the rest of her career vaccinating Goldendoodles sounded like a slow form of death. She followed Hunter to the truck, then on to the picnic table that sat in the sheep pasture.
Hunter opened up the big basket and shook his head. "So, Ava showed up this morning with this whole thing…" He pulled out a red and white checkered tablecloth and looked at Kit warily.
She laughed. "It’s okay, we both know it’s not a date. But I’m really hungry, so you can’t deny me the food."
Hunter’s shoulders relaxed, and together, they set up the meal Ava had organized, complete with real dishes and flatware, along with a bottle of champagne.
"Well," Hunter said, lifting his glass of champagne, "cheers to my resident for rescuing me and doing a bang-up job with the sheep."
Kit smiled and took a sip of cold, bubbly tartness before digging into the fried chicken and rosemary potato salad on her plate.
"So, tell me," Hunter began as a nearby sheep bleated and hopped sideways to avoid a stick on the ground. "Has it always been your plan to take over your dad’s practice?"<
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Kit idly stabbed at the last piece of potato on her plate. "Yes. It’s always been the plan." She saw that Hunter hadn’t missed her emphasis on the plan rather than her plan.
He studied her for a moment. "So Dad wants to pass on his business, keep it all in the family."
She gave him a wry smile. "Something like that." She sighed. She didn’t tell many people about her mother’s illness, but somehow she sensed Hunter wouldn’t be judgmental. "My dad has some extra responsibilities on his shoulders—he relies on me to help him with those."
Hunter kept a steady gaze on her, and Kit shifted on the bench. His deep brown eyes were unwavering, kind of like the man himself.
"My mother has multiple sclerosis," Kit admitted. "And it takes two of us to care for her. One of us to run the business and put food on the table, and the other to be with Mom, make sure she takes her meds, get her to therapy every day, handle her hospitalizations." She paused and looked out over the grass sprinkled with dandelions.
"I was the one with Mom when I was growing up. She was diagnosed when I was ten, and since I’ve been at vet school, Dad’s been forced to get some paid help, but the plan has always been for me to take over the practice so he could take care of Mom."
"It’s tough," Hunter said, his index finger barely touching hers on top of the concrete table, a whisper of contact for one fleeting moment. "Family is everything, and we have to take care of them, but sometimes it’s hard not to resent it, too."
She nodded, a rush of relief leaving her that he understood so easily, so immediately.
"You take care of your brothers, don’t you?" she asked.
He chuckled. "I’ve been known to keep tabs on them both. A little lecture here or there, sometimes. Not that either of them listens to me, you understand."
They both laughed then, and the bright day grew a little brighter, the warm sun a little warmer, and Kit’s opinion of Hunter more than a little friendlier.