by Leslie North
His gaze shot to the door just in time to see the look of shock on Kit’s face.
“I’m so sorry!” she blurted out. “I heard you might need help in here, but I’ll just take the next patient.”
Then she was gone, and Hunter’s carefully constructed life was one step closer to exploding.
13
Kit cleaned up after the last appointment of the day, organizing patient charts on her laptop in the small office she’d been given. She hadn’t seen Hunter again after she’d surprised him in the exam room with the younger, thinner, much prettier than her, redhead. Kit sighed and tried to shake off the image.
It was for the best. It really was. It had been a giant wake-up call. Her ridiculous notions about a long-distance relationship were just that—ridiculous. Hunter was a hot commodity in a small town. There would be temptations everywhere, women just like all the ones she’d seen at the bachelor auction. Women who could be there when he’d had a bad day, who could have family dinners with him whenever he wanted. Women who didn’t have sick mothers, and fathers who wanted to retire.
No, Kit had been living in a dream. She and Hunter were meant to be a temporary fling, just as they’d discussed. It was her own fault for imagining it could be more. She’d known the minute Ava had looked at her like that—with such pity. But seeing that woman with her hands on Hunter—who wasn’t resisting, it might be added—that had been the clincher.
She punched away at the keyboard, brow furrowed in concentration, her heart heavy, but acceptance settling in. It was time to start thinking about her move, get her things packed up. Maybe she’d call her father when she got to her apartment and ask him to set up appointments for her to meet with his office staff as soon as she got to Houston. She’d hit the ground running and be ready to take over in less than the four weeks he’d suggested.
“Knock, knock.” Hunter rapped his knuckles on the doorframe and leaned inside her tiny space. There was no extra chair, so he had to stand there in the doorway, a tentative smile on his face.
“Hi,” she said, hardly looking up from the computer screen, mostly because she was afraid if she did, she’d forget all over again they had no future.
“So, everyone’s gone for the day,” he said, pausing as if there was significance in that.
“I just have a few more charts to update, then I’ll be out of your way, too,” she quipped.
There was silence for a few moments, but Kit stubbornly refused to look up.
“Kit?” His voice was soft but firm.
She finally looked up.
“About earlier—”
She held up a hand palm out. “Don’t say another word. It’s none of my business. I’m sorry I barged in like that. It’ll never happen again.”
“Kit,” his voice held censure now. “Come on. You know me better than that. You think I’d be coming on to a client in the office?”
She merely raised an eyebrow and looked at him.
“Seriously,” he responded, crossing his arms and glaring at her.
“It doesn’t matter what I think you would or wouldn’t do. It’s none of my business. I realize that. The temporary fling doesn’t get to pass judgment on what you do when you’re not with her. I’m not living in a dream world.”
“But you are hurt, and you know…” he stopped, clearing his throat. “You know you’re a hell of a lot more than a temporary fling.”
Kit stared down at her desk, wondering how they’d managed to screw everything up so badly. This was supposed to be a residency, a learning experience to help launch her career. Not a learning experience to help break her damn heart.
“I’m not hurt,” she asserted. “And you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m not involved with anyone else, Kit. And I won’t be, as long as you’re here. That’s not who I am.”
Her heart contracted, and she fought back the flood of emotions that threatened to overtake her. “I know that’s not who you are. And I’m sorry if it seemed like I doubted you.”
He nodded then. “Okay. So how about we go back to—” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he looked apologetic before pulling it out to read the screen.
“Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head. “Scout has a serious problem at the farm.”
“What’s wrong?” Kit asked, closing her laptop and reaching under the desk for her bag.
“Looks one of the cows tested positive for subclinical mastitis. I’m going to have to test the entire herd and start treatment.” He tapped away at his screen, then shoved the phone back in his pocket. “So, are we good?”
She tried to smile without the wobbling that was threatening to take over her face. “Yes. I’m sorry I overreacted. It’s just been a long day, lunch with Ava and everything. It wore me out.”
He studied her for a moment, looking concerned. “I’m sorry you had to do all that. But it’s all fine now, right? She understood?”
“Yeah. She totally understood.”
“Ok.” He paused, looking uncomfortable as if he wasn’t sure what else to say. “Well, I’d better get going out to Scout’s. I’ll lock up on my way out. Don’t stay too late.”
Kit stopped midway to standing up at the desk. She dropped back into her chair. “Uh, yeah.”
“Great. Have a good night.”
Then he was gone. For the first time in two months, he hadn’t asked her to come on the farm call with him. He hadn’t mentioned seeing her later. He hadn’t kissed her or even looked her in the eye. He’d just left.
And the sound that followed his departure was her heart breaking in the darkening office.
Hunter took the last sample and stored it in the box. He’d been taking milk samples for hours, and now they’d all need to be cultured in the morning. There was bacteria somewhere in the herd, and it could have spread, so until they knew if any other cows were infected, all milk would have to be dumped, and the farm would lose revenue.
He sighed and stood, slapping the cow on the rump so she’d wander back out the gate to the main barn where Scout’s staff would put her up for the night.
“How long to get all the samples tested?” Scout asked from where he leaned, exhausted, against the railing of the pen.
“I’ll put a rush on them, but it could be forty-eight hours. It’s a lot of samples.”
“Dammit,” Scout swore, kicking a chunk of dirt aside.
“I’m sorry,” Hunter said as he taped up the box and closed his medical bag. “You run a clean operation, but sometimes this happens, no matter what. It’s the most common disease with dairy cows, you know that. You’ve been really lucky not to have it in your herd since you’ve been here.”
“I know you’re right,” Scout replied, “but I need a drink to overcome this clusterfuck of a day. Want to hit Ray’s with me?”
Hunter had to agree—it had been a clusterfuck. A shot of something strong sounded like a good way to end a day like that.
“You practically read my mind, little brother,” he said, giving Scout a good, hard slap on the shoulder.
Ten minutes later, they stood at Ray’s bar and ordered two whiskeys neat. Clinking their glasses together, they each drained the amber liquid in one go. Scout raised an eyebrow then, and Hunter nodded. With second servings in hand, they found a table in a corner away from the noise and settled in with a basket of popcorn.
“So what’s been so terrible about your day?” Scout asked as he tossed a piece of popcorn into the air and caught it in his mouth.
Hunter winced at the memory of the look on Kit’s face when she’d walked in on Angie pawing him. He’d felt terrible all damn afternoon, but then he’d gone to talk to her about it, and she’d been so…cold. So clear that they were only in this temporarily. That was when he’d known he had to put the brakes on, stop the train that was about to derail his entire life, and get back to business. And thank God he’d stopped himself in time. After their weekend in Shreveport, he’d been on the verge of tossing aside all sense and a
sking her to stay. Stay in Gopher Springs, work at his clinic, live in his house. Whatever he could get. But then she’d told him loud and clear that this was only a fling. Her heart wasn’t involved, and his couldn’t be, either.
So he’d left her at the office instead of bringing her to the farm, and he’d vowed not to call her tonight, not to go to her apartment, not to notice the pain that had wedged itself against his ribcage, threatening to steal his breath if he let it.
Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was that very same pain, but before he could stop himself, he was telling Scout the truth—about him and Kit, about their weekend, and what had happened at the office before he came out to the farm.
Scout leaned back in his chair and gave Hunter an assessing look. “Well, I have to say I didn’t see this one coming.”
Hunter glared at him, and Scout chuckled.
“So that’s it, then? You think she’s all that, but it was just a fling, and you’re going to let her go?”
“What choice do I have? She’s obviously ready to move on, and really, my life isn’t set up for a relationship. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
Scout winked at a cute waitress who sashayed by with a fresh basket of popcorn. Hunter snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face to get his attention back.
“Sounds like you have your mind all made up,” Scout said, finishing his second drink of the night and setting the glass down on the table with a thump. “So I guess that means you’ll be back to working fifteen-hour days, breakfast with Bran on Thursdays, the occasional drink with me after a house call for my cows.”
Hunter’s gut sank. For the first time ever, it didn’t sound like enough. Hell, it didn’t even sound enjoyable. He’d never had an issue with his life before Kit came along. Now it all paled in comparison to her company, their time together.
“Yep,” he answered Scout with a giant, lying smile on his face. “Back to normal sounds just fine to me.”
14
It had been three days since Hunter walked out of Kit’s office, and she hadn’t seen or spoken to him in private since. He’d managed to be with a patient or on a house call every time she was in the office, and now, on Saturday afternoon, the office was closed, and she was all alone, sorting through patient files, filling in her residency paperwork, and trying to ignore the ever-present voice in the back of her head that said, “Go to him, tell him how you feel.”
Nope. Wasn’t going to happen. And the fact that her phone rang at that very moment with her parents’ number on the screen was the universe’s way of reminding her how things had to be.
“Hi, there,” she said after sliding her finger across the screen.
“Kit? Is that you?”
“Yeah, Mom. How is everything?”
“It’s fine. I’m having a good day, and your daddy took me to the movies this afternoon. We saw the new one about the lost dog.”
“Mmhm,” Kit murmured as she scanned the questions she needed to answer on her residency forms.
“Of course, I had to listen to your daddy hollerin’ about all the things the dog wouldn’t have survived in real life. But it had a happy ending, and you know how I love those.”
“You do,” Kit agreed.
“When will you be home, sweetheart? I just love the weekends when Daddy can be home with me. I’m so excited for him to retire so we can do more things together. I think I’ll have more good days with him around the house.”
Kit’s head began to throb just a touch, and she blinked at the computer screen, trying to focus on the words in front of her.
“I’m actually about to fill out my residency report right now, Mama. I have to help with appointments this week and finish my paperwork, then on Thursday, we’re all set for my exit interview. I’ll be home Thursday night.” She blinked again, and this time it was to hold back the tears that wanted to escape at the thought of leaving Hunter and Gopher Springs.
“That’s perfect, sweetheart. We can’t hardly wait. They’re starting to plan your daddy’s retirement party, so as soon as you say you’re ready, they’ll give him a send-off, and then you’ll be in business.”
Her stomach churned at the words. “Okay, sounds good. But I’m gonna’ have to go now so I can finish this work up and get home. I need to start packing.” After she crawled into bed and cried for a while.
“Love you, Kit Kat,” her mother cooed.
“Love you, too,” Kit answered around the lump in her throat.
She set the phone down and took a shaky breath before looking up—right into Hunter’s eyes.
He’d gone and done it again. Eavesdropped on Kit’s personal phone conversation. But in all fairness, her office door had been open this time—she just hadn’t realized anyone else was in the office.
He’d heard her mention her residency, and he’d been like a moth to the flame. He couldn’t stop himself from following the sound of her voice. Then he’d stood there and listened to her describe how she was going to leave him—leave Gopher Springs, rather. And she said it all as calm and matter-of-fact as if they’d called each other “doctor” for the last eleven weeks instead of “babe” and “hon.”
What Hunter wanted to do was punch a hole in the wall. What he did instead was say, “Knock, knock” a moment too late to cover the fact he’d been standing there listening in.
“Oh! I didn’t realize anyone else was here,” she said, her expression enigmatic at best.
“I left vaccines I need when I go out to Bran’s later today.”
She nodded, and the tension in her small office grew exponentially.
“So, sounds like you have your last week all planned out,” he finally added.
“Yeah.” She looked at him, but he had no idea what she was thinking, and after all the time they’d spent together, that made him sadder than anything.
“So we’re still on for your exit interview on Thursday, then?”
“Yes. Thursday.” Her gaze dropped to her desk, and he could see her hands clenched tightly in front of her.
“And you’re pulling out for Houston the very same day, huh?” He tried not to sound bitter…or forlorn, but he wasn’t sure he’d pulled it off.
“Well, my parents are counting on me…” Her voice drifted off, and suddenly Hunter couldn’t be there any longer. Couldn’t continue to stand around and act as if his heart wasn’t shattering and his entire view of the world hadn’t just shifted.
“Gotcha,” he snapped, then pasted on a smile that he knew didn’t look normal. Because he wasn’t sure anything would ever be normal again. So he went and did the only thing he could think of—he said goodbye. “I know the last few days have been nuts and we both have a busy week ahead. But I want you to know how much the last few weeks have meant to me.”
“Really?” she asked, something different sparking in her otherwise indifferent gaze.
“You’re a really fine doctor.” The words felt stiff and inadequate, but he labored on. “And a great person, too. I feel very lucky that we got to spend this time together. You’re going to knock their socks off in Houston…in all kinds of ways.”
Kit just…blinked at him, and Hunter felt like a thousand red fire ants were crawling on his skin. Everything was tight and itchy and painful.
“So, I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” he added.
“Yes. Monday.” Her voice was as empty as her eyes, and Hunter thought he’d never forget that look as long as he lived.
15
“Well, I sure am glad I drove up for this,” Dr. Marshall said as he sat across the conference table from Kit. Her mentor’s surprise visit to her residency exit interview was the best thing that had happened to Kit in the last week.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming all this way, Dr. Marshall. It really means a lot to me.”
Hunter shifted in his seat beside Dr. Marshall and smiled. “And I got lucky by association,” he said.
“Well, it’s a treat for me to see former students doin
g so well. I’m just real impressed with everything Kit had a chance to try while she was here. I know you’ve always said you didn’t have time for residents, but you did a bang-up job.”
“No,” Hunter said softly. “It was Kit who did the bang-up job. I just provided the venue for her to shine. She’s going to make a fantastic vet.”
Kit felt her cheeks flush as she met Hunter’s gaze. But a moment later, he was clearing his throat and holding out the signed certificate that showed she’d completed a residency in both large and small animal veterinary practice.
“There you go,” Dr. Marshall said, standing and shaking Kit’s hand. “Now, how about I take the two of you to lunch?”
Kit stood as well and saw the look of discomfort that crossed Hunter’s face. Right, they were done, things were awkward, time to move on.
“Thank you so much, but I’m actually leaving town to go back to Houston this afternoon. I still have a billion things to pack, and my friend, Ava, is meeting me at my apartment to help in just a few minutes.”
Dr. Marshall said his goodbyes, and Kit rushed for the door, unable to say one more round of farewells to Hunter. She held it together as she hugged the rest of the office staff, but the moment she closed the car door, the tears came down like a summer monsoon.
He hadn’t even tried to stop her. It was truly over. And she’d gone and fallen in love with the man. What a complete fool she was. A heartbroken, miserable, fool.
Hunter worked to catch his breath as Kit walked out of the conference room. He hadn’t tried to stop her. She was obviously in a rush to get the hell away from him. How had he managed to bungle everything so badly? How had they gone from what they’d shared in Shreveport a week and a half ago—to this?
“Well, Hunter,” Dr. Marshall said, clasping Hunter’s shoulder. “When I heard you were going to supervise Kit’s residency, I knew it would be a great thing for both of you. You did a fantastic job, and I hope now you’ve been cured of this cockamamy idea that you don’t have time to teach a resident. You’re a natural teacher, just like I always knew you would be.”