Maybe that was why being with him was the only place she wanted to be, Laurel thought dismally. Because there wasn’t any danger of him asking her to be a wife or mother.
Early Monday morning when Russ parked his truck behind the clinic, gray winter clouds were shrouding the nearby mountains and a north wind rattled the bare limbs on the lone aspen standing next to the brick building. Several yards away, near one of the holding pens, Laurel’s truck was already parked and, though she always arrived early, she was never this early.
Grabbing up a bag of medical tools from the passenger seat, he departed the truck and quickly entered the building. Inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted down the hallway from the tiny room they used as a kitchen. Russ strode straight toward the smell, while glancing first one way and then the other at the open doorways of the examining rooms.
He eventually found Laurel in the recovery room, checking on a German shepherd he’d operated on Friday evening for a broken leg. The moment she heard his footsteps, she glanced around and smiled.
No matter what was going on, she always started the day by giving him a smile, and although he’d never told her so, the sight always lifted his spirits. She was a distant sort of woman who didn’t invite much personal exchange with him or anyone. When he’d first hired her, he’d believed her attitude was reserved only for him, but over the years, he’d come to see that she was an extremely private person. Oddly, though, when it came to work, she was more than quick to spar words with him.
Along with her smile, Russ liked the fact that she wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, no matter what he threw at her. But he’d never told her that, either. Russ figured after five years she should know he appreciated her work. Otherwise he would have replaced her long ago. Now he feared he’d been lax about letting her know that he needed her.
“Good morning,” she greeted him.
“Morning,” he replied as he moved across the room to where she stood by the shepherd’s cage.
“How is she?” he asked while inclining his head toward the dog.
“I’m impressed. She’s already eaten everything I’ve given her and drunk her water. And when I first walked in, I found her standing.”
He nodded with approval. “I could see a spark of survival in her eyes yesterday. She’s going to do just fine.”
Laurel gave the dog one last pat on the head, then carefully secured the door on the cage. As she turned to move away, Russ caught the fresh, sweet fragrance she always wore. The woman rarely bothered to put lipstick or any other color on her face, but she always smelled very feminine.
Now, why in heck had that sort of thing entered his mind this morning? he wondered. He thought of Laurel as his helper and friend who just happened to be female, and nothing more. That’s how, after all these years, he’d made sure their working relationship stayed strong.
“If you’re hungry, there are breakfast tacos in the kitchen. And I just brewed a pot of coffee.”
Russ started to tell her he’d already eaten, but she walked out of the room before he had a chance to speak, leaving him little choice but to follow her. Damn it, what was she doing, trying to make him sweat for her decision?
Down the narrow hallway, he saw her duck into the tiny kitchen and by the time he entered the room, she was already pouring herself a mug of coffee.
“Have you forgotten something?” he asked as he rested a hip on a tiny wooden table pushed against one wall.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, and the innocent arch of her brows made him want to let out a frustrated groan.
“Was I supposed to bring something to work with me this morning?”
Russ was doing his best to remain cool, even though he was nervous and worried. Which was a hell of an admission for him. Nothing ever unnerved him and he’d long ago learned that worrying was a waste of time and effort. Yet this uncertainty with Laurel had him behaving completely out of character. “Come on, Laurel, you know that I’m waiting for your answer about the job.”
She plopped two cubes of sugar into her coffee mug and stirred. “All right. But before I give it to you, I want to know about Maccoy. Friday night when we were discussing this, I forgot to ask about him. What’s going to happen to his job?”
Maccoy acted as the receptionist/bookkeeper and also kept all medications stocked and accounted for. In his seventies now, he’d once been a saddle bronc rider on the rodeo circuit, but a horrific spill toward the end of his career had broken his back and left him limping on his left leg. But the handicap was nothing to Maccoy. He could still work circles around three men.
“You needn’t worry about Maccoy. He draws a disability check.”
Outraged, she let out a loud gasp. “You know that Maccoy is a man that wants to be productive. He wants to work!”
He gave her a wry little grin. “I’m only kidding. I called him yesterday. Maccoy is going to the ranch, along with me. He’s very happy about it, too, I might add. He’ll be living in the bunkhouse with a few of the single ranch hands, so he’ll have company at night and he can cut out the high rent he pays now.”
She looked at him through long, dark lashes. It wasn’t often that he teased or joked. Apparently, just the thought of this new job had lifted his spirits. “So he’ll still be working with us?”
Russ nodded. “That’s right. Doing the same thing he’s doing now, except he won’t have to answer the phone a jillion times a day to deal with appointments and hysterical pet owners.”
She outwardly sighed. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
“You were actually worried about him?”
Frowning now, she said, “Why wouldn’t I be concerned? I’ve worked with him all these years. I’m fond of the old man.”
“You’ve worked with me for years, too. But you hardly seem concerned for me.” Now, why the hell had he made that remark? He didn’t want Laurel’s care or attention. He just wanted her excellent work as an assistant.
She actually laughed. “Russ, I think you’re a man who’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”
He always had, he thought grimly. From the time he’d been a young teenager, he’d pretty much had to scrape for himself. Once his mother and father had divorced, his father, Curt, had left for parts unknown. Nanette, his mother, God bless her soul, had done the best she could to care for herself and her young son. But about the time of Russ’s seventeenth birthday, she’d developed cancer and without the funds for proper treatment and the support of family, she’d succumbed quickly to the disease. After that, Russ had gone to live with Nanette’s brother, who’d lived in Albuquerque at the time. But Russ’s uncle had been a bachelor, who’d been far more comfortable nursing a cheap bottle of wine than dealing with a teenage boy.
As a result, Russ had learned a guy had to take care of himself. No one else was going to do it for him, much less do it the right way. Before his mother had died, Russ had promised her he would continue his quest to be a veterinarian, and once she was gone, he was even more determined to achieve the goal.
With the help of scholarships for good grades, he’d worked his way through college. Then after he’d finally earned his license to practice veterinary medicine, he’d slowly paid off all his debts and eventually purchased this clinic near the racetrack in Ruidoso. Hollister Animal Clinic had given him a more than nice living; he had earned a great living. But the workload was staggering and the money not worth the toll it was taking on him physically and mentally.
“You’re right, I can take care of myself. But I do need an assistant. What’s your decision?”
Breaking eye contact with him, she turned back to the coffeepot. “I’ll be going with you. After all these years, I know what you want and