Another Chance (2 page)

"I'll get some more going, in case you need it."

She opened the door for him.  "Don't let Miles leave without coming in for a hot cup of coffee."

Wade paused.  "Doc Fletcher left town."

Panic filled her eyes.  "You don't have help?"

"We do.  I think.  I hope."  He shook his head, thinking of the woman he was trusting with his animals.  He hoped to hell she knew what she was doing.  "I don't have time to explain, I have to get back.  But don't worry, I plan on asking her a whole lot of questions once this is over."

Light from several lanterns hung along the back wall and the sides, illuminating the little square.  As Jillian continued her examination of the cow, she was relieved that James' questions weren't firing fast as a Gatling gun the way Wade's had.

Did it matter where their precious Doc was or why she was there in his stead?  Did Mr. Parker really think she'd follow a complete stranger in the middle of the night, get herself soaked, then kneel on his muddy barn floor if she didn't know what she was doing?

Granted with women not being allowed in veterinary schools she could understand his questions.  She had, in fact, expected them.  But it wasn't only the questions that bothered her; it was the man asking them.  She'd never been distracted before.  When she was around animals, they had her complete attention, especially when the situation was this dire.  And being around men who normally opposed her skills, she'd learned from a young age how to put them out of her mind to do what was necessary.  To do what she loved to do.  She didn't like that Wade had the power to usurp her steadfast determination by simply looking at her.

Not when, from what she'd seen so far, he wasn't any different in his thinking than Clint had been.  No, best to keep to her goal.  She'd moved across a country to be a doctor, and that's what she was going to do.  There wasn't room for, and her heart couldn't take, another man who'd never be able to accept every part of her, which included the part that refused to give up being a doctor.

Wade returned and the two other men followed him in, making the already small stall even smaller.  Lord, she could even smell him.

"Okay, we're ready," she said a little brisker than usual.  "I need her two front legs kept forward, her rear legs kept back as well as her head held down.  I don't want to give her too much ether, that way she can stand and nurse sooner."

Scott took the back legs, James the front and head.  Wade's knee rested against Jillian's when he took his position at her side.  Despite their wet clothes, his heat seeped through and made her skin tingle.  Annoyed by her reaction, she immediately broke contact.

"We're ready when you are," James said.

Pouring some ether on a rag, Jillian held it briefly under the cow's nose until she felt its muscles relax.  That's it; we'll take good care of you.

"Here we go, hold her steady."

Dropping the rag Jillian grabbed her knife and cut an incision into the left flank of the cow.  Its legs jerked, but the men held her easily enough.  The sound that came from its mouth was low and pitiful.

She heard Wade's quick inhale, felt the intensity of his stare on her.  He didn't think she could do this.  Well, he wouldn't be the first man she proved wrong.

Moving quickly, Jillian cut through the skin followed by layers of muscle.  She reached inside the abdomen to get a hold of the uterus.  When she felt the calf's legs through the tissue she pulled it toward the opening.

"I've got a hold of the calf's rear legs.  Mr. Parker, I'm going to cut through the uterus, then I'll need your help to pull it out."

Jillian didn't wait for his answer; time was too critical.   Holding the calf's legs in one hand, she cut through the uterus until they had enough room to pull out the calf.  Water and blood poured out onto her skirt.  The warmth of the animal combined with the cool night air.  A thin veil of vapor rose from the incision.

"Now!"

Jillian dropped her knife in the bloody water at her feet and together she and Wade grasped a leg and pulled.  The calf slipped out of its mother's womb and onto the floor.  Jillian quickly began pulling the mucus from its nose and mouth.

"It's not breathing!"  Jillian scrambled up and both she and Wade pulled the calf off the ground by its hind feet, giving it a few good jerks.  Placing it back down again she leaned over and willed the animal to breathe.

"It's breathing," she sighed when its breath blew warm air on her hair.

A soft whoosh was heard over the patter of raindrops as everyone released the breath they'd been holding.

"Keep holding her," she reminded the other two men, though they hadn't made any move to let go.

Jillian dealt with the cord efficiently but the amount of blood worried her.  Why was there so much?

Mr. Parker grabbed the calf.  "I'll take him to another stall and clean him up.  It will give more room to work."

"Make sure you keep him warm," Jillian said as she tried to determine where the excess blood was coming from.

"There's a problem, isn't there?" James asked.

"I think there's a tear somewhere, I just need to-"

She found it immediately.  There, a rip in the uterus.  They must have caused it when they pulled out the calf.  Her stomach felt sick.  It wasn't an uncommon thing to tear something in a caesarian section, but it could be fatal.  And if she hoped to prove herself, she couldn't afford for the animal to die.

Using all her skills and sending up a few prayers for good measure, Jillian sewed the tear and the cut.  The catgut worked well as an interior suture material because it was eventually absorbed naturally by the body.  Using some of the rags to wipe at the blood, she inspected her work.  There didn't appear to be any seepage.  Wiping the moisture from her brow with her sleeve, she then began closing the hide.

A precise row of sutures later, followed by a confirmation of a strong and steady heartbeat, Jillian pressed her hands to her lower back and stretched.

"Thank you, gentlemen, you can let her go now."

Scott immediately scooped up the bundle of straw that contained the placenta.  "I'll take care of this," he said.

"Can I bring in the calf?" Mr. Parker asked from outside the stall.

Jillian looked up, saw where his gaze was aimed and dropped her hands to her side.  "Yes, the sooner he can nurse, the better."

Though the mother had yet to stand, she nonetheless moved her legs aside to give her young access.  The calf didn't waste any time and began to suckle.

With the crisis taken care of, Jillian had a chance to examine Mr. Parker a little more closely.  He too had taken off his coat and his shirtsleeves were rolled up revealing forearms sprinkled with golden hair.  His wet pants clung to long, lean legs.  Jillian had always thought a man looked more, well, manly in working clothes than he did in fancy suits.  She'd always been drawn to the more rugged sort.

But she'd made that mistake once before, to heartbreaking results.  A smart woman learned her lesson.  And Jillian Matthews was no fool.

"Will she make it?"

"Infection is always a risk, as is internal bleeding.  Though I'll examine her again come morning, I'd say the worst is over."

His shoulders dropped as the worry slid away.  Yet he didn't say thank you, didn't acknowledge her skills.  The omission stung because she knew good and well his old Doc Fletcher would have gotten a hearty handshake and likely a solid pat on the back.

She wasn't the kind of woman who needed pretty words.  All she'd ever wanted was to be accepted for who she was, a woman who also happened to be a skilled doctor.  Good Lord in Heaven, why was it so blasted hard for a man to accept that?

Annoyed, she hurried through cleaning her instruments, but was careful when she placed them back into her bags.  Standing, she grimaced at the squishing sounds coming from her boots.

Down the aisle, Hope's snuffle caught Jillian's attention.  Scott had stepped back into the barn.  He stopped as he passed the horse and spoke in a gentle way, his eyes locked with those of her horse as he scratched her withers.  Jillian watched, mesmerized, as Hope nickered and leaned into Scott.

"He's got a way with animals, especially horses," James said.

Jillian marveled when Scott walked toward them and Hope stared lovingly at his back.  He set a shovel against the wall.

"I buried it far enough away that it shouldn't attract any trouble."

"Thanks," Wade said.

Jillian gnashed her teeth.  His ranch hand, who'd done nothing more than bury the afterbirth, got the man's thanks when she didn't get so much as a nod of gratitude?  Her gaze went to the shovel Scott had returned.  She was sorely tempted to use it.

"Miz Matthews," James approached, his hand outstretched, "That was fine work.  Thank you."

His hand was calloused, his grip firm.  Because it was the same handshake he'd have given a man, Jillian smiled, knowing she'd gained at least one man's approval.  And if she had one man's then hopefully-

Wade's head snapped back as though slapped.  "Wait!  Did you say Matthews?"

Seeing the shock in his eyes, Jillian braced for an even fiercer storm than the one that raged outside.  James' brow furrowed, then the wrinkles smoothed out as realization dawned.

"We introduced ourselves when you were gone fetching the water.  This here's Jillian Matthews, she's the new vet."

Wade's face went crimson.  His chest heaved.

Jillian crossed her arms.  "I responded to the advertisement and was given the position."

"No.  Miles and I read through the replies for our post together and we offered the position to the most qualified man that responded.  A Jared Matthews."

It was the first time Jillian had heard her father's name spoken since his funeral a month ago.  For a moment, she cherished the sound, held it close as though, somehow, she was holding him.

"That's not possible.  Jared was my father and he died last month."

"If he's gone how is it that-"

James put a hand on Wade's arm.  "Let's go inside.  We could all do with a cup of coffee and I'm sure Miz Matthews would appreciate a chance to get dry."

Extending him the same courtesy he showed her, Jillian ignored Wade and turned her eyes to James.  "I'd love a cup of coffee, thank you."

She could almost feel the frost form in the air.  "Fine," Wade muttered.  "We'll finish this inside."

Lightning shot for the ground outside the open door.  Thunderclap rattled the building.  Lifting the collar of her slicker against the wind and rain, and hoping the menacing weather wasn't a sign of what awaited her in the house, Jillian trailed Wade across the yard and into the house.

The smell of fresh coffee greeted her like a warm blanket.

Mrs. Parker was there to take her slicker and hat.  "I've set warm water and clean towels for you upstairs, the door on the left.  Wade, dear, I've set a basin and some dry clothes for you in the parlor."

Cold and wet, Jillian didn't argue.  Lifting the hem of her soiled riding skirt, she padded up the stairs, stepped into the room, and closed the door.  Immediately the masculinity of the space hit her and she realized that she'd been sent to Wade's room.

A dresser displayed a handful of coins and a comb.  A blue quilt covered the bed.  At the end of the mattress was a pine chest with a pair of pants tossed over it.

She'd been courted by Clint for almost a year.  They'd gone to dinner, gone dancing, gone to the theatre.  She'd seen him dressed in his best suit and dirty in his working clothes.  They'd kissed, held each other close.  Yet none of those events had been as intimate as standing there, where the scent of leather, hay and man clung to the log walls.  Where his presence breathed in the room.

Realizing she was standing there like a ninny thinking of how Wade's room smelled rather than getting her wet, clinging clothes off, Jillian gathered what she needed from her saddlebags.

She was here for one thing and one thing only, she reminded herself.  There was no room in her life for men, especially selfish, short-sighted ones who couldn't accept that a woman was capable of more than cooking and raising babies.  Not that Jillian had a problem with that; she enjoyed cooking and though she hadn't spent much time around children, had always hoped to have some one day.  But that didn't mean she couldn't do more.  Didn't need to do more.

She was amply qualified to be this town's vet and she aimed to ensure that, before this night was over, Mr. Parker understood that he had hired the best doctor for the job.

***

The murmur of voices grew louder as Jillian--dressed in dry skirt, blouse, and stockings--descended the stairs.  Light from the kitchen spilled onto the entryway floor, creating a pale glow on the worn wooden surface.

"We were just talking about you," Mrs. Parker said when Jillian stepped into the kitchen.

Jillian's gaze flew to the table where Wade and James sat.  She acknowledged James with a smile, but it was Wade who commanded her attention.  He'd taken off his hat, but hadn't combed his hair.  Damp, sandy brown waves fell onto his forehead.  His jaw was dark with stubble.  His accusatory gaze followed her to the table.  Oh, she had little doubt they'd been talking about her.  And even less doubt that Wade had had anything positive to say.