Her Cowboy Boss. Arlene James

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СКАЧАТЬ “You say that about every dessert I serve you.”

      “I was talking about you.”

      Meredith sighed mentally, telling herself that it was unbecoming to envy one’s siblings. Still, it hurt to feel so...alone. Callie pulled away from Rex and finally took a seat at the table.

      “Meri, do you think Wes could manage a bowl of pudding?”

      “I think so,” Meredith answered. “I’ll take some to him in a minute.”

      She quickly finished her meal, filled a small bowl with banana pudding and carried it into her father’s room. He sat in his hospital bed, watching television.

      “Hi, sugar. What you got there?”

      “Sugar,” she quipped. “Callie made banana pudding.”

      “Yum.” He clapped a hand to his flat middle. “Sounds good. I hope it’s still warm.”

      “It is.” She handed over the bowl and a spoon.

      Wes scooped up the first bite, humming his approval. With the second bite, he said calmly, “When are you kids going to tell me what’s going on?”

      Meredith’s gaze shot to his. She bit her lip, half-a-dozen options rolling through her mind, but she wasn’t about to lie to her father. Not telling him troubling news was one thing, lying to him was something else. On the other hand, this wasn’t her decision alone. She walked to the door and stepped out into the hall, calling for her brother. Rex came right away, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

      “What’s up?”

      “The jig,” Meri said grimly.

      “I’m not deaf,” Wes said, “and I keep hearing Stark’s name, along with Soldier’s.”

      Rex sighed and gave him an abridged version of the facts, leaving out the detail that they’d found Soldier down in his stall.

      Grimacing, Wes set aside his pudding. “And you’re sure it’s encephalitis?”

      “Yes. But Stark’s doing all he can,” Rex said.

      Wes nodded. “I don’t doubt it.” He glanced at Meredith, adding, “You don’t give him enough credit. I’ve never known a better animal doctor than Stark Burns. I haven’t seen many people doctors better than him. And I’ve had my share of both.” Meredith couldn’t argue with that. Wes handed the bowl of pudding back to her. “Think I’ve lost my appetite.”

      He reached over to his bedside table and picked up his Bible, opening it to Philippians. She knew exactly where he was going. They’d traveled this familiar ground together quite often lately, whenever it was necessary to turn off troublesome thoughts. She’d read the familiar verse to him so often—or vice versa—that she had it memorized.

      “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

      A job. Staying close to her family, especially her dad, not slinking away in petulant envy. That was noble, right, admirable. Wasn’t it?

      She wondered suddenly why Stark Burns didn’t have help with his practice. Maybe he couldn’t find anyone willing to put up with his special brand of obnoxiousness. Or maybe he just hadn’t found anyone with enough experience to be of use to him.

      Hmm.

      It was worth a shot. If he hired her, she might even be able to bring a little real compassion to his practice.

      She blew a kiss to her dad and left him talking to Rex, then went out to fill another bowl with pudding. Draping a napkin over it, she took a spoon and slipped out to the stable.

      Burns was nowhere to be seen—until she drew closer and looked over the stall gate. He reclined on his camp bed, fully clothed, reading on a handheld device.

      “Come to check on the horse or badger me?” he asked without so much as glancing in her direction.

      She ignored her spiking temper—really, no one else did that to her—and held out the bowl. “I brought you some dessert.”

      He sent her a dark look, switched off the device and got up to ease past the end of the gate.

      “That smells like banana pudding,” he said, carefully reaching for the bowl.

      “It is.”

      He made a face.

      “Don’t you like it?”

      “Love it.”

      She laughed. “Sorry to have pleased you.”

      Ignoring that, he gingerly took the spoon, crossed to the toolbox, sat and began to eat.

      “Good, huh?”

      “Very.” He continued to eat for several minutes, while she petted the horse and looked around. Suddenly he said, “What do you want, Meredith?”

      She tried not to jump at the deep, dark timber of his voice. “I, uh, want to help. In any way that I can.”

      He said nothing to that, just set aside the empty bowl and spoon. She examined the IV setup carefully from the suspension hook to the catheter, just as if she hadn’t already done so repeatedly.

      “Very neat job of stitching,” she commented. “Do you always stitch the catheter in place?” She didn’t think he would answer at first, but eventually he did.

      “Even the smartest animals will instinctively pull out something sticking in their bodies, either intentionally or accidentally. Soldier might be too sick now to even realize it’s there, but as soon as he’s better, he’ll try to get rid of it. Can’t let that happen. And there’s always the chance someone messing around with him will accidentally pull it out.”

      She shot him a dry look. “I’m the last person you have to worry about doing that.”

      “Just saying.”

      “And I’m just saying that I could be of real help to you if you’d trust me and show me what you need.”

      “Is that right?”

      “I’d go so far as to say that I could help out with a lot of things if you’d let me,” Meredith told him cautiously, thinking that had gone easier than she’d expected.

      He folded his arms. “Ever seen a calf caught in barbed wire for so long that gangrene has set in?”

      She blinked, caught off guard by the change of subject. Then she saw the quirk of his lips just before he swiped the napkin over them, and she knew instantly what he was doing.

      Parking her hands at her waist, she said, “No. But I’ve seen plenty that would turn your stomach.”

      They traded horror stories for several minutes, each more gory than the last.

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