A Cowboy Holiday

Chapter 1

TANNER

“There’s a little cowboy in all of us, a little frontier.” —Louis L’Amour

Cattle grazed in the emerald pasture, gathering in groups nearby like coworkers hanging out at a water cooler.

If they’d been gossiping about office conditions, they might have had a couple of complaints, but no one could find fault in the day.

The autumn breeze was crisp but not cold, the blue sky was dotted with cotton-ball clouds, and the grass was plentiful.

Not a bad situation…if you overlooked the signs of disrepair. The broken fence, the sagging porch on the house, and the eager owner who couldn’t quite hide the desperation in his tone.

“Damn fine cattle, I’m telling you, and a bargain at half the price,” Dennis bragged, tugging the brim of his trucker cap.

Dennis Tobin was a small-time farmer in his early sixties with salt-and-pepper hair, crooked yellowed teeth, and a potbelly.

He claimed he and the missus wanted to sell the business, retire, and see the country in their RV.

He hadn’t mentioned that his gambling habit had put him in a bind, but most folks around these parts knew Dennis had an affinity for cheap booze and high-stakes cards.

And the poor guy had never learned when to walk away from either.

His bad luck might lead to some good for both of us ’cause I happened to need his cattle.

They were a beautiful Holstein breed, known for their distinctive black-and-white markings and their exceptionally high milk productivity.

Dennis didn’t have the resources we did at Oak Ridge Ranch, and I had a feeling these cows weren’t given the attention they needed.

“And you want to sell the entire herd?”

“Yep, the whole kit and caboodle.” Dennis propped a muddy boot on the derelict fence and slapped his knee. “I’ve got a four-year-old bull, fiftysomething cows…and at least one of them is pregnant. So fifty-two altogether.”

“Any issues I should know about?” I asked, noting that a few of the grazing cattle seemed a bit too lean.

“Nothing serious. They’re in fine enough shape.” Dennis’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. “So…what do you say? Do we have a deal?”

“It’s a big investment. I’m going to need a bill of health.”

The older man frowned. “You can see they’re right as rain. Is that really necessary?”

“It sure is,” I replied matter-of-factly. “Who’s your vet?”

“I use the new guy, Axel Vogel. He’s here now, deworming some of the gals o’er at the barn if you’d like to meet him.”

“Perfect. Lead the way.”

“Uh…”

I knew Dennis was gung ho to make this sale, so I was a little surprised by his hesitation. He rubbed a palm along his thigh and released a heavy sigh.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not. It’s just that Axel comes with a warning label,” Dennis hedged. “Good man, but he’s a tough nut to crack.”

“How so?”

“He’s an old-fashioned cowboy, but he looks like a damn lumberjack, and he’s a prickly son of a gun.”

“Noted.” I tipped my hat against the sun’s glare and stepped away from the fence, hoping Dennis would take a hint. I didn’t have all day. I had a ranch to run, but— “Did you say cowboy? I thought he was a vet.”

“Axel’s a jack of all trades.” Dennis ambled to the path, fussing with his belt buckle as he moved…like a fucking snail. “He worked for a big cattle operation in Colorado for years and someplace out in Nevada, but he’s got a vet’s license.”

“Oh, that’s—”

“And he’s a single dad—a good one at that.

He’s devoted to his daughter, Phoebe. Cute little tyke.

She’s five years old, I think,” he continued in storyteller mode.

“They moved to Santa Ynez this summer, and they’re renting a mobile home by the creek.

Axel works part-time at the veterinary office on Main Street.

That’s where we met. He keeps mostly to himself and he doesn’t say much, but when he does, he can be crusty.

Don’t take offense or—ha. Never mind. I’m talking too much. Come meet him yourself.”

Buzz buzz

I slipped my cell from my pocket and peeked at the incoming text from my ex. Something about wanting to talk. Huh? About what? I ignored the message and caught up with Dennis as he rounded the faded gray barn.

Three mooing cows stood in the clearing, reminding me of old-timey commercials with talking animals. I could imagine these three at a beauty parlor, griping amongst themselves about anything from the fly situation to sore udders while the vet applied deworming fluid.

I know…silly. I’d been told I had an odd habit of anthropomorphizing my favorite animals. So what? Maybe these cows didn’t speak English, but you couldn’t convince me that they didn’t communicate. All that mooing meant something, right?

I grinned as I moved closer, petting the nearest cow’s neck. “Hey, there, beautiful. How are you—”

“Out! She’s got benzimidazole and macrocyclic lactones on her, and you’re not wearing gloves. Either suit up or step the hell away,” someone barked.

I obeyed, unthinking, and glanced in the general direction of the voice.

Dennis gave a sheepish half laugh. “That’s Axel.”

A moment later, a beast of a man appeared out of nowhere.

A beast.

No kidding. Axel was…huge.

Enormous.

He was a good three inches taller than my six foot two, and he was built like a refrigerator—broad shoulders, a thick torso, and thighs like ham hocks.

He wasn’t heavy, necessarily, but there was a lot of him.

His cowboy hat hid part of his face, however, I could tell he had brown hair, a neat beard, a strong nose, and a faded scar on the left side of his cheek.

Axel the vet wasn’t a handsome man, but I left a margin for error since I couldn’t see his eyes.

Hot or not, there was something compelling about him.

He wasn’t someone who could be easily ignored.

He filled a damn barnyard with his intimidating size and obvious strength.

I couldn’t imagine being in a small room with him.

My studying glance was quick but thorough. He wore a protective apron over a blue plaid shirt, dark jeans, muddy work boots, and a battered cowboy hat. Yeah, I had to admit that Dennis’s description fit. Axel could have been a lumberjack, a contractor, or…a cowboy.

I sensed Axel was checking me out too, probably wondering if I had a problem taking a hint. He wanted me gone, ASAP. He had shit to do and no time for pleasantries with nosy visitors.

There was only one way to deal with this type of customer: kill ’em with kindness, and sprinkle in some Spade charm.

“I’m Tanner Spade. I hear you’re new in town.

Welcome.” My megawatt smile didn’t garner even a hint of a response, but I barreled on, undeterred.

“I was just talking to Dennis about purchasing his herd.” Not a twitch.

“Beautiful animals. We had Jerseys for a while, but I’ve always been partial to the Holstein breed.

We’ve got a few dozen at Oak Ridge now, and I’m lookin’ forward to adding to our bunch.

” Nothing. “Dennis says you’ve been caring for them? ”

“Hmph.”

His grunt felt like progress…and a challenge to see what else I could get out of him. However, winning over a grumpy vet wasn’t my priority. I didn’t have time to linger here. They needed me at the ranch.

“They seem to be in good shape and Dennis agrees, but I’m gonna need a bill of health for each animal, including vaccinations, deworming history, diseases, or concerns with disposition or injuries. You know…the basics.”

More staring.

Dennis pulled his hat off and scratched his balding head. “Axel, can you get that paper work to Tanner by tomorrow?”

“I can do that.” Axel’s deep timbre echoed in the yard.

I should have walked away. I’d obviously caught Axel while he was in the middle of something, and he didn’t give “ray of sunshine” vibes. But I’d never been good at leaving well enough alone.

“Great. How about these three?” I hooked a thumb at the mooing trio. “The one at the end is a little skinny.”

Axel glanced over his shoulder on cue. “Alma’s been suffering with ketosis. That’s a metabolic disease. An imbalance between energy intake and output that leads to excess ketone bodies in the blood and a—”

“I know what it is.” I moved toward the cow.

“Jesus, Axel. She’s on the mend,” Dennis grumbled. “You said so yourself.”

“She is,” Axel agreed. “She calved six months ago. I wasn’t here for that, but it didn’t take a degree to notice she didn’t have enough meat on her bones.

She’s doing better now. As for the others…

Mitsy’s right front hoof has been giving her problems, and Janet is recovering from a bout of milk fever. ”

“Milk fever,” I repeated, alarmed.

Dennis’s mouth tightened. “She’s all better, isn’t she?”

Axel inclined his chin. “Doing pretty well. I put her on an IV treatment initially, and now I’m giving her calcium orally.”

“We’ve always run a clean and conscientious operation,” Dennis blustered. “I don’t know how milk fever slipped in, but this has been the only—”

“I’d keep an eye on Hazel too,” Axel intercepted, unbothered by Dennis stewing apoplectically beside him.

“Hazel’s fine,” Dennis seethed.

“She’s stable, but a lack of appetite isn’t normal for a pregnant cow. And she’s…depressed.”

“Cows don’t get depressed, and Hazel is fit as a fiddle.” Dennis shot an irritated glance at Axel.

“Actually, depression isn’t unique to humans,” I piped in. “How far along is she?”

“Six and a half months. She should deliver around Christmas. If you’re taking her too, she’ll need care. I’ll add that to my report.” Axel patted Mitsy’s flank, then removed his gloves and unfastened the apron at his waist and walked away.

No good-bye, just the slightest nod.

“Told you he was a prickly bastard,” Dennis huffed, motioning for me to follow him down the path leading to the front of the barn. “I tell you, there’s nothing wrong with this herd. You’re getting a terrific deal and…”

I tuned him out, more interested in the cowboy-slash-vet ambling to the truck parked nearby.

Axel opened the door and grabbed a water tumbler from an inside compartment.

He flipped the lid and took a drink, tipping his head.

His Adam’s apple bobbed and no, that wasn’t sexy, but… it sort of turned me on.

Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but unbridled masculine energy with a side of assholery was my kryptonite. Everything about this guy was big, bold, and larger than life.

Down, boy. There was no harm in looking, but it was never wise to get caught ogling a straight man. Especially not a crabby cowboy.

“Thanks, Dennis.” I adjusted my sunglasses and offered my hand. “If we can get the health charts tomorrow, I’m confident we can wrap up the sale by next week.”

Dennis shook my hand enthusiastically. “That’s great news. Glad to hear it. I’ll give Axel your contact information, and he’ll forward anything you need. And listen, take that nonsense about ketosis and milk fever with a grain of salt. All animals get sick once in a while.”

“True, and you were fortunate to find someone who cares.”

“I can’t fault Axel that,” Dennis conceded. “If you find yourself in need of some help with this new group, I recommend him. Just beware of thorns.”

He snickered merrily and trotted off with an extra bounce in his step—no doubt pleased with the promise of a pending sale. That made two of us. Oak Ridge needed this herd and yes, we’d need to hire a few qualified ranchers as well.

And…maybe a vet.