“Whose check bounced?” He shrugged out of his canvas coat and hung it on a wooden peg. It was the third returned check that week. At this rate, he wasn’t going to be able to pay his own bills. Given the choice, Sam would rather wrestle a prolapsed uterus back into a struggling cow than deal with billing and accounts receivable—although, since it was just after the holidays, his mailbox wasn’t exactly spilling over with envelopes containing checks. And obviously, those that did arrive were not a guarantee of money in the bank.
“Mrs. Newland.”
“Oh, man.”
Mrs. Newland was a sweet lady devoted to her two wild terriers. Sam didn’t do a lot of small animal work, but when one of the dogs had been attacked by a coyote, he’d stitched it up after hours.
“I know. What do you want to do?”
“Call the bank before you redeposit. If there aren’t enough funds to cover it, then bill her again.”
Sam couldn’t afford to do work gratis, much as he’d like to.
The bell on the back door rang, and Beau and Tyler, who were supposed to be on their way to school by now, came through the mudroom into the clinic office with a blast of cold air.
“We can’t get the Beast started,” Tyler said, rubbing his gloved hands together.
“For real?” The last time the boys had trouble starting the Beast was when Ty had a date and thought Sam’s Ford crew cab would be more impressive than a tiny ‘94 Mazda pickup with a dented tailgate. Ty loved to impress. Beau was happy to just be himself.
“Yeah. I think it’s the battery. We’ll need a jump.”
Sam plopped the Elmer Fudd hat back on his head and grabbed his gloves. Five minutes later the Beast was running and he was coiling his jumper cables.
“Good luck with that test,” Sam said to Beau as the kid climbed behind the wheel. “You, too, Ty.”
“You don’t need luck when you’re good,” Tyler said with a confident smirk.
“You have a C.”
“Whatever.”
Sam opened his wallet and pulled out four twenties, which he passed to Ty through the open window. “Buy a battery for the Beast on the way home.”
“Are you sure?” The boys were supposed to handle maintenance on the small truck.
“Yeah. I don’t want you getting stranded somewhere.” The teens could change the oil themselves. A battery seemed more of a parental responsibility. Sam may have had parenthood thrust upon him, but he was determined to do the very best he could.
IT HAD BEEN A WHILE SINCE Jodie had seen a more wonderful sight than Lucas Reynolds driving the tractor with the hay trailer behind it out into the field to feed the horses and cattle. Not that she and Margarite hadn’t done a fine job of feeding, but enough was enough. She liked being inside with a cup of coffee rather than outside on the back of the trailer, freezing her ass off.
Margarite had been in a good mood since he’d showed up yesterday, the morning after Jodie called. No more injections, no more cold trips out to the haystack. Lucas Reynolds was indeed a knight in shining armor. Or rather a knight in a beat-up canvas coat, a ratty silk scarf and a battered felt cowboy hat. But the expression on his craggy face was relaxed and his eyes clear, quite a change since the last time Jodie had seen him, during a summer visit just before Joe fired him.
Margarite came into the dining room and set a list on the table beside Jodie’s coffee cup. “I thought of a few more things I need in Elko, if you don’t mind.”
“Trust me. I don’t mind.” She was looking forward to getting out of the house for a few hours, and had volunteered to go on a grocery run to town. While she was there, she’d stock up on books, see about a manicure, get the Spitfire serviced.
She called her law office as she drove north, and talked briefly to Penelope, the receptionist, who told Jodie that since she was on sabbatical, she needed to focus on things other than work. Besides, there was no gossip and no new cases of note. Things were running smoothly, but yes, they would run more smoothly once Jodie got back. And then Penelope had hung up on her.
Okay. Jodie dropped the phone onto the passenger seat. Point taken. No obsessing over work. She was on leave. She was supposed to relax and come back refreshed. No telling if that would actually happen, since she hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place.
She reached for the phone again and called Gavin, the associate who had taken her unfinished cases. She enjoyed a few minutes of conversation and discovered the status of each case before he had to go. Jodie hated being away from the office, hated waking up in the morning with nothing to work on, no strategy to plan. But … at least her sabbatical had gotten Joe onto the airplane. The smile on her mom’s face as she’d followed him into the security area had been worth the long empty hours Jodie was spending on the ranch.
When she arrived back in the late afternoon, the trunk of her small car loaded with groceries not available in Wesley’s much smaller stores, she knew something was wrong. Lucas and Margarite were in the kitchen, talking in low voices, when she came in through the mudroom. The top of the housekeeper’s head barely hit the tall cowboy’s shoulder, but there was no doubt as to who was controlling the conversation. They turned in unison as she closed the door, and Jodie instantly knew she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.
“I think we’re going to need a vet,” Lucas said before the door latched.
Jodie stared at the couple in disbelief. “Oh, just shoot me now.”
“It’s that new bull your dad bought before he left,” Margarite said, her expression grim, as well it should be. Joe had spent a ton of money on that black bull because it was homozygous, whatever the heck that meant.
“I found him standing hunched up in the corner of the pasture, and brought him in,” Lucas added. “I think we should have someone take a look at him fast.”
Jodie felt like beating her head against the wall. “Maybe we can have Dr. Eriksson fly in from Vegas?” The vet had his own plane and often flew to the ranch for routine veterinary work. It cost Joe a bundle, but it was the only way he could get services. So far it had worked, because so far there hadn’t been a pressing emergency that Mike couldn’t handle. No. That had waited until Jodie was here and spineless Mike was gone.
“Already checked. He’s on vacation.”
“This isn’t happening.” Jodie rubbed her hands over her face in a gesture of frustration. “What do you suggest?” she asked Lucas.
“I’m no vet, so I suggest we get one.”
“Let’s go take a look at the bull,” she said.
Not that she knew a lot, but Jodie wanted to see how sick the animal was. Two minutes later she had her answer. Real sick. Lucas had herded him into the west end of the barn, opposite the stall where Bronson was recovering, and he was now in a small pen, standing with his body contorted into an oddly hunched position. He either didn’t care or was unaware that Jodie and Lucas were there, a few feet away from him. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing labored.
“What are the odds of two emergencies in one week?” she asked in a defeated tone.
Lucas snorted. “On a ranch, it’s more like what are the odds of not having two emergencies in one week? Your father has been damned lucky so far.”
“Well, it’s catching up to him now.” Jodie patted the metal rail of the enclosure with an air of finality, and then started for the barn door. “I want you to call all the vets within driving distance and see if any will come out here.”
“All right.” Lucas’s tone said it all.