Her Forever Cowboy (14 page)

Oh, no, hardly. She blinked and stared away from him. Had she really thought his telling her meant more than it did? And why, oh, why did she care? She knew he was merely trying to use the experience to get her to slow down and hire an assistant.

“You want to know why I'm so stubborn?” she asked, more disappointed than angry at his continual soapbox stand on her life. “I understand the void you feel. Not exactly in the same way but, still, losing people you love is hard. Even with God's comfort. My mother died giving birth to me. She was forty-five. They'd wanted a child so badly, but had given up years earlier and so when my mom found out she'd conceived me she was ecstatic. She was cautioned to give me up because of some complications, but she refused. She basically gave her life to bring me into this world.” The very idea of it had truly overwhelmed her growing up. Her mother hadn't had to die for her. But she'd loved her. “I always
think of Jesus when I think of my mother's sacrifice. Jesus died on the cross for us because He loved us so much, and my mother died in labor because she loved me so much. Even though she'd never seen me. It's overwhelming sometimes when I think about it.”

Cole took her hand. The contact was so unexpected it took her breath.

“I'm so sorry for your loss,” he said, his smoky-blue eyes darkening like gray skies before a rain.

Susan felt his sincerity and as she looked into his eyes she felt comforted. “Thank you.” His hand tightened about hers and his thumb soothingly caressed her skin. “My daddy and I were everything to each other. He was fifteen years older than my mom, though, and he felt like I needed to be able to stand on my own two feet in case something happened to him. He died just after I graduated high school and was getting ready to enter college. Though he'd prepared me, I still had lessons to learn.” Had she ever. Thinking about how hard those years were reminded her not to feel bad about her stubbornness. She'd been alone and grieving when she'd entered college. She'd also felt all of her father's expectations while feeling lost at the same time. “I'm stubborn and determined and driven for a reason, Cole. Yes, I'm moving to town to try to have a life. But I can't change who I am.” And that was what he would have her do—she pulled her hand from his. “I am the child my father raised. Knowing your story helps me see why that bothers you. But I will make my father proud in my short lifetime.” She stood up, too troubled to stay seated. “I think we should go back now.”

She'd confided too much and knew it had simply been the result of a long two days…a long two weeks. That was it.

He would be through with the clinic by the end of the next week if he hurried it up, and then he'd move on. He'd be gone. Back to the altruistic life he'd chosen after losing the love of his life.

All she had to do was not think about that. Not think about how she would love to be the one to take away the pain she'd glimpsed in his eyes as he'd talked of Lori.

“S
o how's it goin?” Sam asked on Tuesday morning when Cole walked into the diner with Seth. From their seat at the front window, Applegate and Stanley tuned in. They called out a “howdy” and leaned a bit closer to make sure their hearing aids picked up all bits of conversation.

“Don't ask,” Seth said. “Cole might bite your heads off.”

Cole shot him a grumpy glare as he took a stool. He'd avoided the diner on Monday because he knew he'd get the fifth degree from the old fellas. He'd already gotten it from Norma Sue, Esther Mae and Adela. The three ladies had visited the clinic first thing Monday morning. They hadn't even tried to hide their real reason for dropping by and had immediately begun drilling him about Sunday afternoon.

He'd told them little. What was there to tell? That he'd opened up to Susan and had completely come across the wrong way. She'd empathized with him over
Lori but hadn't gotten why he'd told her…he wasn't sure he completely understood why he'd told her.

The last thing he'd expected was for her to reveal what she had. He'd had no clue what she'd been through and he seriously doubted that anyone in town knew that she'd lost everyone so close to her…early in her life. No wonder she was so independent.

“I'm almost done with the clinic, if that's what you mean,” Cole offered.

Applegate spat a sunflower seed into the spittoon. “I heard Susan was out most of the night last night,” he boomed. “She was back and forth between here, thar and yonder with one emergency after the other. You seen her?”

“Nope. She hasn't come by.”

“That ain't good,” Stanley yelled across the room.

Sam set cups in front of Cole and Seth. “Nope, sure ain't.”

“She's busy. It's her job,” Cole snapped, watching as Sam filled his with coffee. “Thanks,” he grunted. He took a cautious swallow. Black and caustic, the coffee burned all the way down his throat and settled in his stomach like acid on acid. He took another swallow.

“Shor she's busy but…” Sam drawled. “It still ain't good that she's burning both ends of the candle. The little gal is dancin' with disaster if ya ask me.”

Cole couldn't agree more. He wasn't the only one in town who thought she put herself in dangerous situations. Or was stubborn. Or needed someone to watch over her. She might be a certified veterinarian, but she
was a woman alone at all hours of the night and no matter how she explained herself to him he could not and did not think it was safe for her.

Chauvinistic—maybe by some people's terms—but to him it was just plain and simple fact that any woman he cared about was going to have to understand that he'd have her safekeeping in mind at all times. Who, at night, would know if she didn't return home after being called out on emergency? Who would know until she didn't show up for work that she had run into trouble? Had a wreck? He yanked his thoughts away from her and her business. Or at least he tried. The woman was starting to obsess him. She seemed close to Betty but still she lived all the way in Ranger.

“Earth to Cole,” Sam said, topping off Cole's coffee. “Did she say when her new equipment is gonna arrive? From what I gather, she did real good in the sale of her other place. Got all new stuff comin' for the new clinic.”

“I don't know about all that, but whatever it is it's supposed to arrive Saturday. I'm working to get everything ready for it.”

Applegate stood up and ambled over to the counter. He was moving slow—limping, too.

“Is something wrong, App?” Cole asked, noticing the way the older man was moving.

Stanley spit several sunflower seeds into the spittoon. “We been helping Norma Sue bottle-feed some ornery baby calves.” Stanley chuckled. “One of 'um got the better of ole App yesterday.”

App grunted. “I'm still sore. The calf decided it was a goat and tried to mow me down.”

“That's the truth,” Stanley agreed. “If Norma Sue hadn't grabbed it when she did, ole App might'a got the boot right out of town.”

“Now thar's an idea,” Sam said, rubbing down the counter.

Cole chuckled listening to them. They always gave each other a hard time. But since they'd all been friends for sixty years or more, it didn't look as if they were gonna split up or anything.

“So when you movin' back here, Cole?” App asked, ambushing Cole with the sudden change of subject.

“I've told him I need him,” Seth said.

Cole shot him a hard look. “I'm enjoying what I do.”

“Humph,” Sam snorted. “From what I hear you ain't even got a home ta call yor own out thar. Livin' in a hotel room ain't no life fer a man. Especially when he's got responsibilities back home and good reason fer being there. Yor brother is a newlywed—you should thank about him and also yorself.”

“That's right. Just like I jest did by beatin' the socks off this old sourpuss,” Stanley said, jumping several of App's checkers. “Remember roots are good. Especially fer raising kids.”

“That's what I'm telling him,” Seth said.

Cole drank his coffee in silence and let them carry on with their ambush.

A few minutes later after avoiding answering their questions and making his escape, Cole and Seth left the
diner. Cole couldn't help thinking that roots were good. Having people around who cared about you and knew you so well they could say anything—might drive some folks crazy but knowing those folks cared about you was a nice feeling. That was what Mule Hollow was made of.

“Some things never change,” he said as he climbed into Seth's truck.

“Nope. It's a good feeling, isn't it?” Seth's eyes were serious beneath his Stetson.

Cole gave a short half laugh. “You're trying real hard to make me reconnect, aren't you, brother?”

“You know I am. I want you here, Cole. Plain and simple. It's more than just about me needing you at the ranch. It's where you belong. You always said you were coming home to raise a family. So come home. Settle down. Find a good woman and have that family. Lori would have wanted that for you and you know it.”

Cole didn't want to get into this and yet…it was unavoidable.

“And what about Susan?” Seth prodded. “If I'm right, there's something there, isn't there?”

“Drive, Seth.”

Seth slapped the steering wheel. “I was right. I knew it,” he said. Cranking up the truck, he backed out. “What are you scared of?”

“Nothing.”

“That's a lie and you know it. Come on, Cole. Talk to me.”

“I have obligations—”

“You and I both know you don't have anything
going that you can't get out of. And, besides, even if you did, it's easy enough to plan to come home as soon as those are up.”

It was true. He'd freed himself up before coming here but there was plenty of work that still needed doing. “You know as well as I do that I can walk away from life as I know it at any minute. But that doesn't mean I want to.”

Seth shot him an irritated look. “Why, because coming home would mean you'd be tied to responsibilities that aren't so easy to get out of? You'll never find peace unless you make a stand, Cole. You have to stop running.”

It would mean, also, that he'd be in town—around Susan…as of Sunday he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Out on the road I'm able to be happy most of the time…. I'm managing. I'm helping people.” And any disgruntled feelings that would besiege him from time to time could easily be pushed aside and ignored while he worked at solving other people's problems. “It's a good way of life for me. Here. Honestly, Seth, I don't know how it would be. I don't know if I can handle it.”

And Susan. Well, Susan complicated the situation tenfold.

Seth pulled the truck to the side of the road. “Cole, you can handle anything. With God's help, you can conquer this fear or sadness or whatever it is. You are not alone. I know without you telling me that you blame God for taking Lori. And I know you felt powerless watching it happen. But, Cole, you have to know you deserve to move forward and have a life, too. One built around
roots and family and not driven by anger and sadness and emptiness. You're my baby brother and I saw you when we lost Mom and Dad. When you hurt you bottle it up. You hold it in—you smile and joke but it's there. Truth is truth, Cole. And the truth is, it's time to stop.”

 

It was seven in the evening when Susan turned into her new driveway. Cole called to say he needed her help with something, but he hadn't told her what it was. She'd been out nearly all night and was dragging, but her energy level surged upward dramatically on seeing him standing in the doorway.

She'd thought about him almost constantly ever since Sunday. But she'd stayed away. She wanted to be the woman who took away the pain she'd glimpsed in his eyes. It was a dangerous thing to be thinking.

He wore his tool belt today—a reminder that, yes, he worked for her. His lean jaw was scraggly with stubble as if he'd been working as many hours as she had. His wavy brown hair curled from beneath the ball cap and his eyes seemed to light up as she approached. She couldn't help thinking that the smartest thing she could do was get back in her truck and race in the opposite direction.

But she was no chicken. Or at least she'd never been before. “Hi,” she said and smiled, feeling self-conscious about all she'd revealed to him about her past. She was still amazed that she'd done that.

“I'm glad you could make it out, finally. I hear you've been busy the past four days.”

She couldn't tell if he realized she'd been avoiding
him or if he really thought it had all been about being busy…she went with busy. “Very. So what's up?” she asked, keeping her focus.

He moved aside and let her pass into the building. The caustic scent of stain and varnish hit her. It wasn't strong enough to cause her eyes to tear up or to run them out of the building but it was there making itself known.

“You look—I, well, I had an idea that I wanted to run by you.”

She almost smiled at the way he'd changed course on telling her she looked tired. Because it was more than obvious that was exactly what was buzzing around in his mind. The fact that he'd decided against saying it was good, so she pretended not to notice as she followed him to the reception desk.

The place looked fantastic. The cedar walls looked beautiful and the cabinetry he'd done in pine, opting to clear-coat it so the wood would show and match the light weave of blond running through the red of the cedar. He'd done her counters in the same wood and they looked very rustic.

“I still have to finish out the bathrooms and some cabinets in the dispensary and surgery. The front area is done, except for adding a clear coat to the front of the reception desk and the counter. I waited to do that because I had this idea about putting a few brands on them first. What do you think?”

Susan's interest peaked. “That sounds interesting. Like take a bunch of different people's brands and burn them into the wood?”

“Exactly!” He beamed at her. “I figured you'd get the idea pretty quick. What do you think?”

“I
love
the idea. I really do.” She met his smile with one of her own and time just sort of sat there between them.
Focus, girl, focus
.

“Good,” he said. “I had a feeling you would. Follow me,” he drawled, crooking his finger and then heading toward the doors leading into the back area. “I took the liberty to round up a few irons and thought since it's your building you should have the honor of doing the first brand.”

Oh, boy—wasn't that thoughtful? A warm sense of pleasure filled Susan and she hushed the small voice yelling “focus” in her head. He had several branding irons heating in a gas warmer and she pulled a few out and recognized the brands. “I really love this idea.” It seemed to be the only phrase she could string together at the moment.

“I'm assuming you've handled irons before?”

“Actually, no.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, don't do branding. Some vets do, some don't.”

“Not a problem. I'll show you how it's done.”

“I really—That sounds great,” she said, catching herself before she repeated herself again.

He grinned. “Then we had better get busy. Are you driving back to Ranger tonight?”

She heard the “you don't need to” tagged onto the end even though he didn't say the words. “No. I'm staying here, at the house.”

“That'll help us get this done, although this shouldn't take more than a couple of hours. Hopefully you won't have any emergency calls and you can get some rest.”

The man had tried, but hadn't made it five minutes. But instead of it irritating her as much as before, she felt that same sense of pleasure flowing through her. He seemed genuinely to care about her overworking—if she relaxed a bit, she'd admit that it was a nice feeling.
Wasn't it?