Eternal Vows. Rochelle Alers

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СКАЧАТЬ However, a year later the rosy bubble didn’t burst but exploded when, after he’d been arrested for solicitation, she discovered her husband had a criminal history going back to when he was a juvenile. Reginald’s criminal history included misdemeanor offenses ranging from petty theft, forgery to menacing. He never served time because of his father’s influence.

      The elder Matthews had always bailed him out and instead of serving time in jail or prison, Reginald was mandated to community service, which he never completed. However, Reginald’s luck ran out when he was arrested in Florida at the same time his parents were out of the country on vacation. Peyton had no intention of bailing him out for soliciting a prostitute, and he spent a week in jail before he was able to contact his indulgent father to put up the money. She moved out of their apartment, contacted a lawyer and filed for divorce.

      Setting the phone on the bedside table, Peyton made her way into an adjoining bathroom. Flicking on a light, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, seeing a stranger staring back at her. Her dark gray eyes seemed abnormally large and haunted. A mop of sun-streaked blond hair fell around her face. The spray of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks were no longer visible. Sitting on the rails watching the horses exercise, swimming in the in-ground pool, and occasionally picnicking outdoors with her young cousins without a hat had darkened her normal golden-brown complexion to a rich chestnut hue.

      Fortunately she’d worn the highest number SPF sunscreen to protect her skin from the damaging rays of the hot Southern sun. If her mother saw her now she would launch into a tirade about the dangers of skin cancer, and Peyton would somehow placate her saying she would check with a dermatologist if she noticed anything out of the ordinary.

      She went through her morning ablution, finishing her shower and applying a liberal application of perfumed crème cologne. She slipped into a pair of jeans with a white man-tailored blouse, turning back the cuffs, and a pair of black leather flats. Reaching for a brush, she pulled it through the tawny strands, which fell to her shoulders, smooth and shimmering with pale gold highlights. It’d been more than three years since Peyton had cut her hair, and the urge to cut it again was stronger than ever.

      She paused to make her bed and put her bedroom in order before she left the suite of rooms in the large two-story white house she shared with Sheldon, his wife, Renee, and their young daughter, Virginia. Although Sheldon employed a full-time housekeeper, Peyton still cleaned up after herself. She hadn’t grown up with household help, so old habits were hard to break.

      The sun was up when she walked to the area where a pickup truck, minivan and a SUV were garaged. Now that Sheldon had officially retired from running the farm, Peyton usually drove the red pickup with the farm’s logo emblazoned on the doors. The doors to the pickup, like all of the vehicles on the farm, were never locked and keys or fobs were always left in the ignition. She kept her medical bag in a locked compartment in the truck along with a pair of knee-high rubber boots.

      The farm was beginning to stir. She drove past a group of men walking in the direction of the stables. One by one the horses would be taken from their stalls, washed and groomed, while the stable hands mucked and washed down the stalls. They would be fed and watered and then turned out to pasture to graze. The Thoroughbreds training for races would be exercised before the jockeys put them through their paces. Jockeys and trainers would spend time conferring with one another as the respective trainers entered the data into laptops.

      Peyton parked alongside one of the three stables, retrieved her bag and exchanged her shoes for the boots. She walked in, coming face-to-face with Ryan Blackstone, the farm’s resident veterinarian.

      “What are you doing up so early?” she asked Ryan. “I told you I’d make rounds this morning.” He wore his ubiquitous jeans, plaid cotton shirt, battered baseball cap that had seen better days and scuffed boots. A two-day growth of whiskers shadowed his lean jaw.

      The Blackstones were like the Baldwin brothers. The similarity in the actors’ eye color indelibly connected them as family. Whereas the Baldwins shared the gene for ice-blue eyes, it was varying shades of gray with the Blackstones. At forty, tall and slender Dr. Ryan Blackstone was bummed because he claimed more gray hair than his father, who would celebrate his sixtieth birthday the following year.

      Ryan raised his eyebrows at his young cousin. She’d enrolled in the Western College of Veterinary Medicine in Saskatchewan, Canada, earning a doctor of veterinary medicine degree. Like him she’d specialized in large animal and equine medicine. He’d found her motivated and single-minded in learning everything she could about medical care for horses. He smiled. This morning she looked ten years younger than twenty-seven with her bare face and her hair pulled into a ponytail.

      He reached for her medical bag. “Don’t you have a wedding to go to this afternoon?”

      Smiling, Peyton nodded. “I wanted to check on Katie Dee.”

      “I checked her already.”

      “What’s up, Drs. Blackstone?” quipped one of the workers as he pushed a wheelbarrow filled with hay and manure out of the stable.

      Peyton rolled her eyes at him when he winked at her. A few of the single workers had started flirting with her once they’d discovered she wasn’t married. What they didn’t know was that she had been married, but that was something she made certain not to advertise. It was just too embarrassing.

      “There is one too many Dr. Blackstones on this farm,” she said under her breath.

      Ryan gave her a level stare. “And there’ll probably be a third when Sean goes to veterinary school.”

      “He’s only eleven, Ryan. Are you certain he wants to follow in your footsteps?”

      “I’m only repeating what he told Kelly.”

      Peyton fell in step with Ryan as he walked over to the pickup. “Even though I love working with you, I’ve been applying for positions at other farms. Unfortunately, I haven’t had much luck. I had a dinner meeting with Nicholas the other night, but I didn’t get the chance to ask him whether he’d let me volunteer some of my time because his sister and her fiancé had come in from North Carolina.”

      Opening the passenger-side door, Ryan set her bag on the seat. “Why volunteer, Peyton? You’re a doctor, not an intern. Which means you should be paid for your services.”

      She stared at the grooms brushing a mare and her foal, and then her gaze swung back to Ryan’s scowling expression. “It’s not about money.”

      “If it’s not money then what on earth could it be?”

      “It’s my name.”

      “Peyton?”

      “No. Blackstone.”

      Ryan’s frown deepened. “What’s wrong with being a Blackstone?”

      “Everything if I’m Dr. Blackstone, D.V.M.” She sucked in a lungful of air. “Whenever someone mentions Dr. Blackstone it’s never about me, Ryan. When I discovered the boil on Katie Dee’s back the first thing one of the men said to me is that I should call Dr. Blackstone. They were talking about you. I may not have your experience, but dammit, I do happen to be a licensed veterinarian. Hardly anyone on this farm relates to me as a vet. You, Sheldon and Jeremy are the exceptions.”

      “It’s going to take some time before they realize you are.”

      “How much time?”

      “Probably СКАЧАТЬ