Cowboy Doctor Read online

Page 3


  Libby had regular visitation with her birth mother in town, but when she lived with Eli and Brianna on the ranch, she begged for her uncle Roce to bring his dog to the house.

  After first leaving Missoula, Roce had stayed at the main ranch house with his mom. Libby came over all the time to play with Daisy. But when Roce moved into the renovated house down by the highway two months later, she’d wept buckets. He told her she could come to see Daisy anytime she wanted, but she couldn’t be consoled.

  Once he’d made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he pulled on a navy long-sleeved hoodie over his jeans. After finding his doctor bag, he made certain he had all the necessary supplies, including Epsom salts and plenty of bandages.

  Daisy made whimpering sounds because she knew he was going to leave. He tossed her another treat. “I’ll be back later.” He could hear her bark as he left the house and got in his dark red, four-door pickup truck.

  Twenty minutes later, he turned onto the road leading up to the Rocky Point Dude Ranch. An impressive spread filled his vision. He wound around toward the barn he could see in the distance. As he pulled up to the entrance, he saw an older man and a woman with a knockout figure and long legs waiting for him.

  Roce had gone through more attractive women in his life than he cared to admit. Maybe something was wrong with him that he hadn’t experienced that affair of the heart like his married brothers. But one thing was certain: when he jumped down from the cab and approached them, he knew that Tracey Marcroft was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen in his life.

  In the fading light, her shoulder-length blond hair had a metallic sheen to it. Not silver, not gold, but something in between. Her eyes gleamed the lavender-blue color of larkspurs, flowers that grew in the meadows on the Clayton ranch. For a moment, his breath caught at the heavenly sight.

  “Dr. Clayton.” The older man in the Stetson stepped forward and shook his hand. “I can’t thank you enough for coming. Wymon’s your brother, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “My son Sheldon and I met him at the rodeo last year.”

  “Wymon’s head of the ranch now.”

  “It’s a small world.” He shook his head. “Dr. Cruz, the veterinarian I’ve been using since our old one died, wasn’t available, so I took a chance on you.”

  “Thank you for calling me. I’m pleased to be of help, Mr. Hunter.”

  “I have Tracey here to thank for finding you. She just arrived for work today and happened to pass by your hospital on the way.”

  Her gaze flicked to Roce. “It surprised me. I didn’t remember seeing it when I was here in the spring,” she explained.

  “You wouldn’t have. I just set up my practice on the ranch last week, after moving from the hospital in Missoula.” He glanced at Mr. Hunter. “Why don’t you show me the horse so we can get him out of his pain?”

  “Chief is in the third stall.”

  As he followed the two of them inside the lighted barn, he found it impossible to keep his eyes off Tracey, and the way she moved wearing those cowboy boots.

  Mr. Hunter showed him to the stall that housed the dun-colored animal. Roce lowered his bag and approached it. “Chief is a fine-looking quarter horse. They make ideal family horses, don’t they?”

  “You’re right about that.”

  Roce ran his hand gently over his back and down his right leg. “It’s all right, Chief.” He moved around in front of him. “Let’s take a look at that sore hoof.”

  When he lifted it, the horse grunted, just as Tracey had said. By the way he held his body, Roce could tell he was in a serious amount of pain. His lower lip had gone tense and he didn’t blink. He was too uncomfortable.

  With a little probing, Roce found the offending object. “This horse has a hot nail embedded in the wall. I have to get it out. If I could fill a bucket with warm water...and I’ll need my bag.”

  “I’ll fill one,” Mr. Hunter declared.

  “Here’s your bag.” Tracey brought it to him and knelt to open it. When she looked up, their eyes held. That’s when a wave of emotion foreign to anything he’d ever known swept through Roce’s body, with such power he was left shaken by the impact.

  It was a miracle that he could concentrate on what he was doing while this beautiful woman, who smelled divine, stayed at his side and anticipated his needs.

  He removed the nail, releasing the pus. It took a good hour to flush out the wound and soak the hoof in Epsom salts and water. Finally, Roce was able to wrap Chief’s foot.

  “Do you think he’ll be all right?”

  Their gazes fused. “That’s hard to tell at this point. He’s less tense since the pressure was relieved. I’m going to start him on medication.”

  Reaching inside his bag, he drew out the balling gun with the antibiotic and placed it in the corner of Chief’s mouth. Very gently, he pushed the tip to the back of his tongue. He dispensed the tablet with the plunger and lifted Chief’s head to make certain he swallowed it.

  “There you go, buddy. We’re going to get you better.”

  “We are,” Tracey cooed, with her arms around his neck. “You poor darling.”

  This woman was a true horse lover. In the background he heard voices. “What’s going on, Granddad?” Another male had joined Mr. Hunter.

  “I phoned Dr. Clayton to take care of Chief’s hoof. It had a hot nail in it.”

  “Since when? He was fine this morning.” The dark-haired younger man, probably in his midtwenties, sounded upset—as he ought to be, considering the pain the horse was in.

  “Since Tracey Marcroft arrived this afternoon and noticed he was limping. We have her to thank for saving Chief from going lame, if it’s not too late. This is the first time you’ve had a chance to meet her, isn’t it? Tracey? This is my grandson, Wes. You’ve already met his wife, Fran.”

  “I did. She’s darling. It’s nice to meet you, Wes.”

  He nodded. “Welcome to the ranch.” In the next breath he eyed his grandfather. “Where’s Dr. Cruz?”

  Wes’s behavior struck Roce as rude. The man exuded no warmth and hadn’t even acknowledged Ms. Marcroft’s contribution. The fact that he completely ignored Roce didn’t matter.

  “I’m afraid he wasn’t available, Wes. You have no idea how fortunate we are that Dr. Clayton was on call and willing to come at a moment’s notice.”

  Wes stood next to his grandfather, but made no comment as Roce put the things back in his bag and moved out of the stall. He addressed the older man. “I’ll come every day to soak his hoof until he gets rid of the infection. He’ll need a fresh poultice each visit. In ten days to two weeks we’ll know if he’s back to normal.”

  “I’m indebted to you.” They shook hands. “Allow me to introduce my grandson, Wes, who’s in charge of the stable.”

  “How do you do, Wes?”

  The young man made a sound of acknowledgment, but lacked the older man’s good manners and didn’t extend a hand, prompting Mr. Hunter to speak up. “You’ll be seeing Wes when you come again tomorrow.”

  “Very good.”

  Roce looked around and saw Tracey Marcroft, who stood a little distance away.

  She smiled at him. “I’m so glad you came when you did, Dr. Clayton. Chief seems more at peace already.”

  “I agree. Getting that nail out did the trick. No animal should have to stay in pain.” He turned to Mr. Hunter. “I’ll say good-night.”

  “Come to my office tomorrow after your visit and we’ll talk more, Dr. Clayton.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Since the arrival of the grandson, the atmosphere had grown chilly.

  Much as he would have liked to stay near the horse to observe him awhile longer, and talk to Ms. Marcroft alone for a few minutes, he realized now wasn’t the time. But he i
ntended to seek her out tomorrow when he came again. On that happy note, he walked out to the truck and took off.

  When he reached his house twenty minutes later and opened the door, Daisy launched herself at him. He let out a deep laugh. Life suddenly looked exciting in ways he couldn’t have imagined when he’d left several hours ago.

  * * *

  TRACEY TOOK A shower and got ready for bed, but knew she wouldn’t be going to sleep for a while. She was too angry at Wes Hunter, for a variety of reasons. She couldn’t comprehend him treating his grandfather like that, and he’d come close to ignoring her and Dr. Clayton. What in heaven’s name had been wrong with him?

  Before driving to her cabin, she’d noticed John talking to his grandson in private after Dr. Clayton had left in his truck. The older man had shaken his head several times, indicating that they were having an intense conversation. If Wes was upset because he hadn’t seen Chief’s limp, it didn’t warrant his rudeness toward all of them.

  No one knew how long the nail had been embedded, but for some reason the infection had started hurting the horse that afternoon. Since she had to work with Wes and it was his horse, she had to hope he wouldn’t hold it against her for noticing the problem first. In a normal situation, the number one priority would be to get Chief back to perfect health. She couldn’t understand why Wes would be angry that Dr. Clayton had taken care of Chief in a crisis. None of it made sense to her.

  But that wasn’t all that was bothering her.

  When she’d watched the red pickup disappear, she’d wished the dark blond doctor wouldn’t have left so fast. The tall, hard-muscled veterinarian was incredibly handsome. Her reaction to him had shocked her. After losing Jeff, she’d thought her heart had died and would never come back to life. But something had gone on this evening when they’d glanced at each other, something she couldn’t explain.

  It wasn’t just his good looks or the intelligence shining in those hazel eyes that appealed to her. He’d displayed a natural affinity for the horse. There was a quiet authority and assurance he possessed that had gentled Chief enough for him to operate on the animal. He was a man in touch with nature, a trait that ranked high with her.

  The doctor didn’t wear a wedding ring. But maybe because he worked with his hands so much, he left it at home when he went out on calls. If he was married, she’d be a fool to give him another thought.

  How uncanny was it that she’d noticed Dr. Clayton’s hospital while she’d been driving to the ranch? What were the chances of John calling him in desperation when he couldn’t reach his regular vet?

  Surprised by her thoughts, after she’d felt dead inside for so long, she grabbed a quilt and made herself comfortable on the couch to watch TV.

  At some point she must have fallen asleep, for the next thing she knew someone was knocking on her cabin door. And the sun was streaming in the window above the kitchen sink. Tracey sat up and looked at her watch. Eight-thirty. The knock sounded again.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Grady Cox.”

  Tracey silently groaned. He had to be at least three years younger than she.

  “They’re serving Sunday brunch for all the employees this morning. Do you want to eat with me?”

  No, but she couldn’t be rude to him. They’d be working together for the next three months. Thank goodness the cabins weren’t equipped with phones and he didn’t have her cell number. Only John and Fran had access to that information if they needed to get hold of her.

  “I’m afraid I’m not up yet. No doubt we’ll be seeing each other at some point soon.”

  “You can count on it. My cabin is number five. The one with the silver Chevy Malibu in front.”

  “Got it.”

  When he walked away, Tracey let out a sound of relief and hurried to get ready in jeans and a yellow pullover. Her priority this morning was to check on Chief. She’d planned to skip breakfast, and reached for the granola bar from her purse to eat later on.

  After brushing her hair, she put on fresh lipstick and her cowboy hat, then pulled on her cowboy boots and left the cabin for the barn. There was no sign of Dr. Clayton’s truck. Maybe he’d already come and gone. She walked inside, hoping that wasn’t true.

  “Good morning,” she said when she saw Wes coming out of the stall next to Chief’s. Last night she’d noticed that Fran’s husband was most likely twenty-four or twenty-five, just slightly older than his wife. But unlike Fran, he didn’t have her friendly disposition. Talk about opposites.

  “Morning,” he muttered. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived yesterday. I was in town checking on supplies to be delivered.”

  “No problem.”

  “I didn’t realize anyone else had been hired to go on the trail rides with the horses. Usually the family handles that.”

  She supposed the talk his grandfather had given him last night had wrought a few changes. But though he’d said the right words to her just now, her intuition told her he still wasn’t happy with the situation.

  “I think it was a last-minute decision between my grandfather and John for me to be given a job on the dude ranch.” Except that it wasn’t true. She’d been hired when she’d come to the dude ranch in the Spring, but it appeared John hadn’t said anything at that time. “It’s a great privilege for me.”

  His head jerked up. “You know my grandfather?”

  Why did that bother him so much? “He and mine were best friends growing up. John is doing me a favor letting me work here this summer and I’m very grateful.”

  The other man couldn’t hide his irritation and didn’t try. She didn’t understand it, but knew to give him a wide berth. Tracey couldn’t help but wonder how Fran handled him at times like this. The answer, of course, was that his wife was in love with him, and Wes was attractive, like the other Hunter men.

  “Everyone around here is at breakfast,” he reminded her. “If you haven’t eaten yet, now’s the time.”

  Good grief. He wanted her to leave. “I realize that, but I thought I’d check on Chief first.”

  “I’ve already done that, so it won’t be necessary. He’s fine.”

  Tracey had to count to ten. “I understand it’ll be two weeks before we’ll find out if he’s fully recovered. Do you know if Dr. Clayton has been here yet?”

  “Nope.” Wrong question. “It seems you’re the one who told Granddad there was a new vet in Ravalli County.”

  Strike one against her. She wasn’t wrong about his antagonism toward her. The question was why he felt so threatened. Tracey had picked up a lot from teaching children. Wes had become very defensive and was blaming her. Though she probably couldn’t alleviate the problem, she decided to give it one more try.

  “When your grandfather couldn’t reach Dr. Cruz, we were both desperate, because Chief was in pain. That’s when I mentioned passing the Clayton Veterinary Hospital after I left Stevensville.”

  Wes’s brown eyes took on what she thought was a strange glitter, but maybe it was a trick of the light. “You’re new here and would be wise to realize Chief is my horse. I’m the one who determines his care and knows what’s best for him.”

  Did Wes mean he actually owned the horse? John had told her she could pick out any one she wanted. “Grady mentioned as much.” Somewhere there’d been a disconnect.

  “One more thing for you to know. Dr. Cruz is our dude ranch vet, Tracey. When he’s back in his office on Monday, he’ll be the one to finish Chief’s treatment.”

  Whoa. If there was some problem between Wes and his grandfather over the choice of vet, she didn’t dare get into it, and changed the subject.

  “Yesterday I got acquainted with most of the horses, but Grady told me there are several I still haven’t seen. Would you mind showing them to me so I can pick out one to ride?”

  “N
ot at all. But I think I know the one for you. Fancy Pants is the bay and a great mare. I’ll be exercising them in the corral a little later where you can get a good look at her.”

  Tracey had already done that. It appeared Wes was doing everything to put her in her place. She certainly hadn’t expected to meet this degree of animosity over the vet incident and knew she needed to tread carefully. “Then I’ll come back. Thank you.”

  “Sure.”

  Since he’d made it clear he didn’t want her looking at Chief or the other horses right now, she started walking back to her cabin and pulled the granola bar out of her pocket. While she munched on it, she saw a red truck in the distance coming toward the barn. Her steps slowed and her heart did a huge kick.

  When Dr. Clayton reached her, he lowered his window. “Good morning.”

  It was, now. “Good morning.”

  “How’s our patient?”

  “I haven’t seen him yet. Wes told me he was fine and suggested I go to breakfast before it was too late to be served.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  They could read each other’s minds. “I thought so, too.”

  “Is that where you’re headed now?”

  “No. I had a snack a few minutes ago.”

  “If you have time, would you like to take a look at him with me? I could use your calming influence while I inspect his hoof.”

  “I have plenty of time.”

  “Do you mind if I call you Tracey?”

  “As if I would.”

  She knew her feelings for him were growing too fast. In the short time since meeting him—heavens, was it only last night?—Tracey had the impression she was suddenly experiencing life in glorious Technicolor. He seemed bigger than life to her, stronger, more wonderful.

  Oh, yes. He was definitely wonderful.

  Chapter Three

  Doctor Clayton’s eyes roamed over her features. “What a beautiful day.”

 

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