A Cowboy's Christmas Reunion. Sasha Summers

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СКАЧАТЬ yawned, stood and stretched, then curled back up in a ball on the desk. Hunter stroked the cat’s silky side, letting the animal’s reverberating purr calm him before answering the phone.

      “How’s the sexiest man in the world?” Amy’s drawl was light, teasing. “Wearing your tight jeans and your jump-me doctor coat?”

      He’d learned not to bite to her teasing. “How are you, Amy?” He clicked the end of his pen a few more times.

      “All business this morning? Guess it’s hard to talk dirty at the office.” She sighed. “I’d be better if I was there with Eli. And you.”

      “You coming through town?” He kept clicking the pen.

      “I’m trying. You know I want to be there.” She sighed again. “I’d never miss Christmas with my baby if I could help it.” She paused, but he kept quiet. “But I’ve got a chance to ride in Vegas through New Year’s. Big show, you know?”

      Amy spent more time with the cowboys on the rodeo circuit than riding in it, but all he said was, “I’ll let you tell Eli.”

      She made that noise, that irritated, impatient sound she made when she wasn’t getting her way. He remembered that noise all too well.

      “Don’t use that tone with me, Hunter Boone. I don’t need your approval or your permission.”

      “I know.” He tossed his pen onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the white insulation tiles of the ceiling.

      “Good. You don’t know how hard it is, to live without the perfect parents and buckets of money just sitting around their big ol’ fancy house.” Her voice was shaking. “A gal’s gotta eat, Hunter.”

      There it was. “How much do you need?”

      “I don’t need a handout,” she snapped.

      “You’re Eli’s mom, his family. It’s not a handout. It’s family taking care of family.”

      The phone was silent for a long time. “You don’t miss me at all? Us?”

      He didn’t say, “No, Amy. I don’t. I won’t. Stop messing with our son and grow up.” He’d learned not to have any expectations when it came to Amy—then there was no disappointment. But Eli was a boy—a boy wanting to believe the very best about his mother. Even if a lot of it wasn’t true. And now his mother was missing Christmas with him...again.

      It tore his heart out to see his boy hurting. He was used to buying a present and putting Amy’s name on it, but he resented having to cover for her. It shouldn’t be his job to maintain a relationship between his ex-wife and his son.

      “Dr. Boone.” Jason, one of his students, came running into his office. “Larry ate Hanna’s hair scrunchie again.”

      “Hold on a sec, Amy?” He covered his phone. “Is Larry breathing okay?”

      “Yes, sir. But he’s coughing a little.”

      Hunter sat back, ran a hand over his face. Why Larry the emu liked eating hair scrunchies was a mystery. But they could be dangerous to the animal if they got stuck in his trachea. “Please ask Hanna to set up the ultrasound machine. I’ll expect her to assist in fifteen minutes.” Since he’d told Hanna several times to remove her hair accessories before she went into the pen, she would help him scan the bad-tempered bird and, if necessary, remove it from the bird’s long neck.

      “Yes, sir.” Jason left.

      “Still there?” he asked.

      “I’m here, waiting. But I’ve got people waiting, too. I’ll call our son tonight.” And she hung up.

      He was about to throw his cell phone against the wall when a soft “Dr. Boone” was followed by a knock on his office door.

      He repressed an irritated sigh as one of the school deans entered. He stood, extending his hand to the older man. “Dr. Lee,” he said. “Nice to see you.”

      “You, as well.” Dr. Lee nodded, shaking his hand. “I hear you have a procedure in fifteen minutes, so I won’t keep you. But I need your help. We have received a substantial donation from the Harper-McGee family—an in memoriam for their deceased son Nate.”

      Hunter nodded. The Harper-McGees were one of the school’s most devoted supporters. The past five generations of Harper-McGees had earned their doctor of veterinary medicine degrees from UET’s College of Veterinary Medicine. Nate would have carried on that tradition if he hadn’t been killed in a car accident midsemester last spring.

      “Part of the donation is to be used for a mural in the waiting room. His parents have a drawing he did when he was young. They want something like it to cover the wall over the admissions desk.”

      Hunter looked at the drawing Dr. Lee offered him, then back at the older man. “I’m not sure—”

      “Dr. Hardy told me you’re very close with the local artist Joselyn Stephens. That she’s visiting right now. Dr. and Mrs. Harper-McGee were delighted. They hoped you’d convince her to consider their commission.”

      Hunter blinked. “I don’t know Miss Stephens all that well. But I do see her father now and then.” He didn’t know if he could see her again, to talk business or otherwise. Her angry words were a hot band around his heart.

      “Perhaps you could ask her to contact me, then? Their donation is incredibly generous, Dr. Boone. I’d like to be as accommodating as possible, you understand?” Dr. Lee nodded at the drawing. “These are for Miss Stephens.” He placed a sealed envelope on top of the sketch. “If she has any questions, I’m sure there’s contact information inside.”

      Hunter stared at Joselyn’s name on the envelope. “I’ll get it to her.”

      “Thank you, Dr. Boone.” Dr. Lee nodded. “Good luck with Larry.”

      Hunter smiled. “Good training opportunity.”

      The older man paused at the door. “How’s the pharaoh hound?”

      Hunter ran a hand over his head. “Bad-tempered. Stubborn. And spoiled.” But the owners were willing to keep spending thousands of dollars on their rare breed, so until puppies were a guarantee, the damn dog was Hunter’s problem.

      “Any animal that needs help procreating has a right to be all of those things.” Dr. Lee chuckled.

      “Never thought about it that way,” Hunter agreed. “We can only hope the procedure works this time.”

      Hunter thought letting Tut have some fun the old-fashioned way might sort out his quick temper. But the owners were determined, and footing the bill, so petri dishes, test tubes and no hanky-panky were all Tut had to look forward to.

      “Poor Tut. We shall hope for the best. I do hope Larry behaves for you.” Dr. Lee stopped at the door. “If I don’t see you before the holiday, enjoy your break.”

      “Thank you. You, too.” No sooner had Dr. Lee left than Hunter’s office phone rang. He tried not to snap as he answered, “Dr. Boone.”

      “Dr. СКАЧАТЬ