Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Jude
I didn’t truly expect Carson to take me up on the support group idea, especially not at the first mention.
I’d told Colt and Grayson that I’d mention the group to him, and I had, but Carson seemed every bit as stubborn as his older brother.
He was going to take some work to befriend, but I was game for the challenge.
“Thinking is good,” I said easily as Carson resumed walking Cinder around the ring.
Carson’s gait was steady, but measured, as if he had to think a little harder about each step than most. He had a wicked scar along his hairline and a few other fainter ones on his face.
Like Colt, Carson had short dark-brown hair and matching stubble, although Carson’s was patchier.
He was shorter than Colt and me, but with a broad, sturdy frame that remained muscled even after everything he’d been through.
“No pressure. Let’s get Cinder back to her stall. ”
“Okay.” He led Cinder to the gate, which I held open for them. After I shut the gate, I tagged along after the pair.
“You cleared to ride?” I asked conversationally as we made our way to Cinder’s stall.
“Yep.” Carson gave me a defiant glare at odds with my more pleasant tone, but I was undeterred.
“Excellent. You might see about giving Cinder a little light exercise later.” I kept my voice casual, the same as I would with giving advice to any ranch worker. “The attention and exercise would likely do her good.”
“Not too sick?” His tone was cautious, but the hopeful glint in his eyes said he was itching to ride. Glancing away, he busied himself with getting Cinder settled back into her stall.
“Nah. At least, I don’t think so.” For all she’d gotten picky about her feed, Cinder’s physical exam had been fine, ruling out any signs of colic, and my intuition said whatever ailed her was likely minor. “I’ll have the blood work back tomorrow, and we’ll go from there.”
“You already finished the blood draw?” Kat came striding up to where Carson and I stood near Cinder’s stall. Grayson was close behind her.
“Yep. Carson was a huge help.” I gestured toward Carson as he stepped out from Cinder’s stall and latched the door. “We got it done in record time and no fight from Cinder either.”
“That’s good news.” Kat smiled at us. “Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, Jude. We were in a meeting with Maverick, going over some numbers and upcoming plans.”
“No worries.” I shrugged. “Carson was more than up to the task.”
Carson’s cheeks turned ruddy. “Gonna get…back mucking.”
“Good luck,” I said as he clomped toward the stalls he’d been working on when I arrived. “Thanks again for the help.”
“Hope he’s not tiring himself out,” Kat fretted after he was out of earshot.
“I’ll check on him in a bit, make sure he’s taking breaks.” Grayson gave a decisive nod.
“He seems to be handling himself fine.” I gave each of them a stern look in turn. They should know better, especially Grayson, who dealt with any number of old injuries from his rodeo days. “Might want to hover less.”
“That’s what he said. Wants to be treated like the other hands.” Grayson’s tone was frustrated but not unkind.
“Probably a good idea.” I glanced down at Grayson’s ankle. He often had a subtle limp, especially when it was cold or at the end of long days.
“But he’s still rehabbing his injuries.” Grayson didn’t seem inclined to see my point that Carson needed space and respect. “And he’s Colt’s baby brother. We don’t want him overdoing it.”
“Might want to let Carson be the judge of what he’s up to,” I said coolly.
“That’s probably a better approach,” Kat allowed.
“You’re right.” Grayson groaned, stretching his neck from side to side. “No one wants to be coddled.”
“Or spoken for,” Kat added, wagging a finger at Grayson. “You were finishing his sentences earlier.”
“Fair.” Grayson’s shoulders slumped. “It’s hard to see him like this, but I’ve gotta hand it to him for how far he’s come. He’s got a lot of fight, that’s for sure.”
“Something I’ve learned through my work with other veterans is everyone has their own path back.
” I wasn’t quite done with my lecture. Simone, the counselor who led the veterans’ support group, was always quick to call out casual ableism, and it was also a frequent complaint from my fellow veterans who dealt with chronic injuries.
“We all need to let Carson find his way. Accommodate as necessary, but let him be the boss of his own life.”
“When did you go and get so wise?” Kat whistled low. She was only slightly older than me, but she’d always had a sort of big-sister attitude toward me. “And now I feel bad.”
“We’ll do better.” Grayson clapped her on the shoulder before turning back toward me. “Colt might need your advice too. He’s already messaged twice this morning, checking up.”
“I imagine being the eldest brother is tough, but I’ll suggest he lay off.” As an only child, I could only guess at the responsibility for his siblings that Colt had shouldered after losing his father at a young age.
“Good plan.” In an obvious bid to change the subject, Grayson pointed at the horse. “How’s Cinder?”
“Relatively okay.” Having said my piece, I was happy enough to get on with discussing the real reason for my visit. While I was there, I checked in on a few other horses and discussed ongoing treatment plans with Kat. Then it was onto a hasty lunch from my cooler in my truck before the next stop.
Like most days, my Monday was packed with scheduled visits, but for once, I stayed on track without any emergencies to derail me.
I made it back to town and the building housing our veterinary practice while the July sun was still overhead.
I dropped Cinder’s blood sample off for our tech, who handled basic lab work, before stopping by Luna’s small office.
Luna was my professional partner. She handled mainly small animals and pets and was finishing up her charting for the day.
“Back before closing time.” She smiled up at me. In her mid-forties, Luna had short hair somewhere between dark brown and silver, burgundy glasses, and a near-permanent teasing lilt to her voice. “That’s a rare pleasure.”
“Shush. It was a relatively slow day.” I held up a hand. “Don’t jinx it.”
“You deserve a whole string of slow days, Jude.” Luna adjusted her glasses so they wouldn’t slip farther down her angular nose. “In fact, this is why—”
“We’re not hiring.” I cut her off before she could renew a long-standing argument about staffing. “I’ve got the fieldwork covered.”
“The margins aren’t as tight as they used to be.” Luna adopted the same tone she used with her nine-year-old to get him to wear a hat in winter. “You could loosen the reins a bit.”
“Could.” I made a noncommittal sound. My father was the one who’d originally hired Luna, but she’d become a dear friend as well as a savvy business partner.
“Could start with that rattletrap of a truck.” She moved on to her second favorite topic. “It’s becoming a liability.”
“I’ll think on it before winter,” I promised.
My truck, which had been a secondhand purchase from the family of a late army buddy, had seen me through vet school and the past decade.
My father had driven his last truck well over two decades until, like most of his things, it was held together by duct tape, epoxy, and sheer stubbornness.
To my mind, I should be able to eke another five years out of my truck at least, but the Baldwin men had never been great with change.
“Winter’s a ways off.” Luna was as accurate as ever.
“Yep.” I matched her dry tone before switching the subject deftly as Grayson had earlier. “How was your day?”
“The usual. Kitten season.” Luna gave a weary shake of her head as she flipped off her computer monitor and rose from her office chair. “My voice is hoarse from spay and neuter lectures and calls to and from the rescues.”
“Keep fighting the good fight.” I clapped her on the shoulder before she hung her white coat on a hook near the doorway where I stood.
“Always.” She graced me with a smile as she collected her purse. “I’d better get on home to Mitch and the kids. He’s grilling tonight, so I don’t want to miss that.”
“You got yourself a good one.” I grinned back. Luna’s husband Mitch was a salt-of-the-earth guy. Mitch worked at the feed store and ran herd on their three kids. Like Luna, he’d become a decent friend over the years.
“You should think about finding—”
“Go on now.” I cut her off by steering her toward the rear door of the practice.
She was only too eager to play matchmaker for me, but she, of all people, should know how difficult it was to find someone willing to put up with a veterinarian’s hours.
“You better get home before the steak is all gone.”
“I’m going.” She gave me a little wave on her way out the door.
I locked up behind her before settling in to do some charting of my own, return a few calls, and set my schedule for the next day. I also used the opportunity to go over our accounting books.
Luna was right that our margins were in better shape than they had been in years, due in no small part to her convincing me to finally raise fees.
I liked to keep things as economical as I could for struggling farmers and townsfolk, but some of the big horse operations weren’t hurting for cash, so asking for more from the high-end cases made good business sense.
Plus, the area was growing, and more activity in town meant more business for us.
My dad would be pleased with the state of our cash reserves, but I could hear his gravelly voice warning me to be conservative with taking on new bills.
We can make do. The man always had hated to spend.
My stomach growled, reminding me I should probably head on home. We had two dogs and a cat who needed to stay over at the clinic to heal from surgeries, so I made sure Luna had reviewed their treatment plans with the part-time tech who would check in on them overnight before I headed home.
I lived at my parents’ old place outside of town.
Years ago, it had been part of my great-grandfather’s and grandfather’s farm, but time and bad luck had whittled it down to these few acres.
I leased the hay fields to a neighboring farmer, leaving me the house, barn, and empty paddock.
Not for the first time, I wished for a dog or horse to come home to, but my hours were crazy enough that it wouldn’t be fair to a pet.
Gone were the days when a rural vet could have a dog ride along on calls.
Most of my larger clients were too particular to allow that.
My stomach continued to rumble, but I ignored it in favor of heading around the back of the small house to my mother’s garden.
Her pride and joy was carefully fenced in to keep critters out.
I’d built the two large raised beds near the garden gate while home on leave because she’d become too weak to manage much kneeling.
She’d insisted on leaving the other ground-level beds, however, so her beloved perennials didn’t have to get uprooted.
I’d helped install soaker hoses for easier watering years back, but the heat this time of year meant extra watering and extra vigilance.
Her neat handwriting adorned little markers throughout the garden, helping me remember what was what.
I gave a halfhearted stab at pulling the worst of the weeds before hunger won out.
I headed inside for a low-sodium can of soup and a quick chicken sandwich on whole wheat bread. Easy.
As I ate, I glanced over at the bare wood floor near the fridge where the bowls for a parade of dogs had sat while my mom had been alive.
My dad’s last cowboy hat perched on a nearby peg, boots neatly lined up beneath.
As a kid, I’d been so oblivious to the ways Mom had made this house a home, but now I missed her something fierce.
Missed them both. I wasn’t too proud to admit this life of mine was a little lonely, but I was used to it by now.
If I were dwelling on it, though, that was as good a reason as any to try to make the next veterans’ meeting in Durango, regardless of whether Carson wanted to come along.