Man Behind The Badge. Pamela Toth

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      “It doesn’t sound like things went well at the Winchesters’ spread,” she asked, prompted by both professional interest and personal curiosity. She’d mentally reviewed her brief encounter with the sheriff several times, wondering if her abrupt dash into the clinic had made her seem unfriendly, and then telling herself it didn’t matter what he thought as long as it didn’t affect her professionally.

      The vet picked up his messages, but she had the impression that he wasn’t really looking at them. “Half a dozen dead cattle at the biggest ranch in these parts,” he said finally. “One of the hands found them this morning.”

      Robin could understand his reaction. This was cattle country. A contagious disease could endanger an entire herd if it wasn’t treated in time. No wonder he looked worried. “Were you able to make a diagnosis?” she asked.

      He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “It looks like someone tainted their feed with rodent poison. The sheriff is looking into it.”

      “The sheriff?” Robin echoed.

      Doc Harmon nodded. “Cattle will eat damn near anything. Ranchers don’t leave poison around for them to get into.”

      “So it was deliberate?” Robin asked. “Why would anyone do that?”

      He shrugged. “Everyone has enemies.”

      “Is there some kind of range war going on around here?” she probed.

      His smile was fleeting. “This isn’t the Old West, my girl, but bad things still happen. Could be an unhappy ex-employee or an envious neighbor. Those boys have worked hard, and they’ve done well. I even heard a rumor that they’d had an offer for their land.”

      He glanced around the office. “Did you get a chance to explore?”

      Robin would have liked to ask more about the Winchesters, but she didn’t want to push. “A little.” She clasped her hands together and took a deep breath. “I know you expected me to get here yesterday, but I had car trouble. I should have let you know.” Before she could add anything more, anxiety closed around her throat like a noose, choking off her voice.

      All Doc Harmon did was shrug again. “I was out most of the day and we’ve been having trouble with the answering machine, anyway. It’s nice you were here to get the phone today, though, so no one started thinking I’d died or retired.”

      He glanced out the window as she nearly went limp with relief. “Car running okay now? You’ll need something reliable, you know.”

      Her gaze followed his to where the sorry little coupe sat baking in the sun. “Oh, yes, it’s fine,” she assured him. “I guess I just expected too much, towing a trailer full of all my worldly goods.”

      The doc glanced at the messages again and then he set them on the counter. “Speaking of which, I rented you a little house at the edge of town. If the bar down the street from it is too noisy, you can look for something else, but there’s not much of a choice right in town.”

      Especially in my price range, she added silently. “I’m sure it will be fine. Thank you for going to the trouble.” She was trying to figure out how she could possibly ask for an advance when he pulled open a drawer in the battered desk.

      “No trouble. Figured you might need to get a few things.” He thrust a check at her.

      Robin stared speechlessly at the amount. She’d been on her own for so long, counting on no one but herself, that she was blindsided by his gesture. She ducked her head, her eyes filling with tears that she barely managed to blink away before they ran down her cheeks. She had to be more tired than she’d realized to get so emotional.

      “Thank you.” She looked up. “I can use this.”

      The crusty expression relaxed for a moment. “You’ll earn it,” he said gruffly. “I’m an ogre to work for. Ask anyone.”

      Somehow she doubted that very much. For one of the few times she could remember since her aunt had died, the hard knot of tension in Robin’s chest eased up. When she’d been sending out résumés, she’d almost decided not to answer his ad, figuring an old geezer in a small town surrounded by cattle ranches would never consider hiring a woman as his assistant. “You don’t scare me,” she replied somberly.

      “We’ll see about that.” Chuckling, he glanced at the plain round wall clock above the door. “I can manage for now. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon to get settled? Open a bank account, get some groceries. I’ve got the key to your place here somewhere.” He fished around in the drawer while Robin folded the check he’d given her and tucked it into her pocket.

      “Are you sure? I can stay, if you need me.”

      He handed her a brass key. “The lights and water are hooked up, and I had your phone connected.”

      “What do I owe you?” she asked. “Didn’t you have to pay deposits on the utilities?”

      This time his laugh was more of a cackle. “This ain’t Chicago, Doctor. All I did was to tell them you were coming to work for me. And this way, people can start calling you in the middle of the night ’stead of me when their prize stud gets a sliver in his arse.”

      She wondered how long it would be before anyone around here actually did request her services, rather than merely tolerate her whenever the “real” vet was otherwise occupied. “Can you give me directions to my house?” she asked after she’d thanked him again.

      The words my house danced on Robin’s tongue. Since moving out of Aunt Dot’s, she’d lived in college dorms and rundown apartments with an assortment of roommates to keep the rent low, but she’d never had a place to really call her own. She was determined to make this a real home, despite it being another rental and no matter what the condition.

      “I’ll draw you a map.” He grabbed a scratch pad. “It’s not hard to find. Nothing in this town is, but you’ll get lost a few times heading out on calls, so you’ll need this, too.” He handed her a cell phone. “You pay for your personal calls.”

      She swallowed. “I don’t have anyone to call.”

      His eyes narrowed. “No family?”

      “My aunt died while I was in college.” She braced herself for more questions, but he didn’t ask them. Despite all the help he’d given her, she was an employee and that was all, she reminded herself. Her life story wouldn’t interest him.

      Except for that one time at veterinary school, which she made a point never to think about, her life was pretty darned boring. Just the way she liked it.

      He drew three intersecting lines on the paper and made two X’s. “You’re here,” he said, pointing an one X with the pencil. “Go five blocks to Aspen and take a right. Turn left on the next street, Nugget, and look for a little house painted yellow, number 505. Can’t miss it.”

      Robin started to thank him again. “Dr. Harmon—”

      “Call me that, people will get me mixed up with the medic, Dr. Nash. I’m just plain old Doc.” He cocked his head to the side, considering. “Don’t suppose I can call you Birdy. Kind of a clever nickname, СКАЧАТЬ