Her Cowboy Boss. Arlene James

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ tied his stomach in knots. He didn’t have time to worry about it, though.

      As usual, he had a full day of appointments, most of them in the field. Rushing to and from one ranch, farm or homestead, he managed to work in an IV bag for Soldier then return to remove it. Meredith was on hand both times.

      By nightfall he’d put nearly 200 miles on his truck and missed lunch, so he’d swung by the diner on his way out to the Straight Arrow. He needed a shower, a shave and a change of clothes, but he couldn’t imagine when he’d have found the time. Seeing Meredith trying to coax Soldier to do more than hang his nose over a bucket of nutritional mash came as no surprise. As he walked down the aisle of the stable, the sick horse pushed his broad forehead against her chest. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around the horse, bending her own head to the animal’s neck, essentially hugging him, before scooping up a handful of the grainy glop in the pail. Soldier lipped up some of the mash.

      The sight did strange things to Stark’s chest, things he didn’t even want to think about, and that made his voice sharper than he intended.

      “You been feeding him by hand all day?”

      She nodded defensively. “It’s the only way he’ll eat.”

      “Has he taken any water?”

      “A little.”

      Stark laid his kit on the barrel and took off his hat, hanging it on the corner of the stall gate. “Well, he’s on IV fluids. But he needs to up his intake if he’s going to beat this. Is there anything special he likes to eat?”

      “I don’t know. I’ll ask. He sure doesn’t seem to care for that mash of yours.”

      Her phone dinged. She slipped it from her hip pocket with her clean hand and swiped her thumb over the screen. “Speaking of eating, Rex says we should come in. Dinner’s on the table.”

      Stark held up the paper bag in his left hand. “Brought my own.”

      Meredith frowned at him. “You must know Callie expected to feed you.”

      “I’m not here to eat. I’m here to take care of your horse,” he retorted, turning his back to unzip his kit.

      “How come you make it so hard to be nice to you?” she demanded.

      “How come you make it so hard for me to do my job?” he shot back.

      “We’re just trying to help.”

      “And I appreciate it, but this is what I do.” He turned to face her, holding up the IV bag and moving toward the pole.

      “Don’t you ever make time to see your friends and family?” she asked, backing up a step.

      “I see my friends all the time,” he said, hanging the bag. “On the job.”

      “What about your family?”

      Exasperated, he glared at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating dinner? Or would you rather keep me from mine?”

      Huffing, she grabbed a rag from the corner of the stall and scrubbed her hand, muttering, “Why do I even try?”

      She slid by him and stalked off down the aisle, only to halt after several steps and pivot on her heel, bringing her hands to her narrow waist.

      “Just so you know,” she told him smartly, “while I’m praying for my dad and his horse, I’m going to be praying for a wholesale change in your lousy attitude.”

      “Don’t bother,” Stark snapped over his shoulder. He turned back to his task, mumbling, “God forgot I existed a long time ago.”

      He felt her shock and her stare. For a long moment, he expected her to speak again, to demand an explanation or make an argument. Instead, she quietly turned and left him. Grimacing, Stark wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He didn’t know why she so easily goaded him into saying too much, but if he wasn’t on his guard with her every moment, he found the most surprising things coming out of his mouth.

      Sighing, he rubbed the horse’s mane, grumbling, “Will you get well so I can get out of here?”

      The more distance he could put between himself and Meredith Billings, the better it would be.

      * * *

      Shaking her head, Meredith went into the house and washed up. Sometimes that man made it awfully difficult to be civil to him. Yet, she couldn’t fault his dedication. He’d clearly worked all day, and here he was, ready to take his dinner in a stable and spend the night tending a sick horse. Plus, everyone else in the family thought he was the next thing to perfect, even after she’d told them that he wouldn’t be joining them for the meal. As the family bowed their heads over the food, she prayed they were right, at least about his skill as an animal doctor.

      Her father’s nausea had lessened during the day, and he seemed a little stronger than he had been the day before, but between him and Soldier, she’d had a busy day and suddenly felt quite tired.

      Rex spooned the lasagna Callie had made onto his plate, then looked at Meredith and asked, “How’s Soldier?”

      “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Burns. You know, I didn’t realize what a sweetheart he is.”

      “Stark?” Rex asked in obvious surprise.

      “No! Soldier. Stark Burns is a grumpy, pigheaded... Well, never mind that.”

      Rex chuckled. “I think Burns is a better man than you know. As for Soldier, he’s always been especially good-natured for a stud.”

      Meri shook her head. “If you say so. I remember him being frisky and stubborn.”

      “All studs are that way at first,” Rex told her. “Soldier settled down right nice, though. That’s why so many of Dad’s friends want to breed him. Albright brought some mixed Arabian stock from South America to Texas especially for Soldier. Too bad he brought along a mosquito, too. Even the mosquitos like our Soldier. But at least we get our pick of the colts, and Albright’s insurance will cover the vet fees. He’ll keep any fillies and remaining colts, so it’s still not a bad deal.”

      “And we get another stud,” Meri said.

      “That’s the plan.”

      Meredith smiled. “I hope he looks like Soldier.”

      “He is a fine-looking animal,” Rex agreed. “A little Soldier look-alike might soothe Dad if the worst happens.” Rex shook his head as if to clear away the gloom and dived into his food. After chewing and swallowing, he said, “I don’t know how Stark keeps up the pace. He’s planning to spend the night again, isn’t he?”

      “I assume so.”

      “How he manages his practice all on his own, I’ll never know. That man’s busier than a whole litter of hunting dogs.”

      “Why doesn’t he have help?” Meredith wondered aloud.

      “I’ve wondered that myself,” Callie put in, setting a big dish of banana pudding СКАЧАТЬ