Chapter 26
sarah
Ididn’t sleep well. I knew I wouldn’t be able to.
But I laughed a lot thanks to Joy, who came over.
I cried a lot, too. She held me through that.
Apparently, Cade went to talk to Mav and…well, he spilled all the dirty Mercer secrets.
This morning, when Joy left after making me breakfast (and making sure I ate it), she kissed my forehead. “I know it feels like there is absolutely no way out of this darkness. But there is. I promise.”
I don’t believe her.
Landon rattled me but good. One look at him and I lost my shit.
Completely.
And then I lost it some more when Cade showed up with his guilt and remorse, scorching the air between us.
Do I feel vindicated that he finally saw the light? Yes, absolutely.
Did it heal my wounds? No.
Does this change how I feel about Cade, my father, and myself? No.
I know it’s a cliché, but it holds here.
Too little, too late.
It’s the story of my life…with my father, with Cade….
“Dr. Kirk, good mornin’.” Gilbert is standing outside my clinic, holding two cups of coffee, when I get there. “You take it black, right?”
I arch an eyebrow. “And how would you know?”
He grins mischievously. “I may have asked the barista at Wild Coffee.”
I grin and take the coffee from him. “Ten points for effort, and an A plus for bringing the coffee. Thank you, Gilbert.”
I sip the coffee, the heat soothing my throat, raw from crying the night before. “So, what are you doing here so bright and early? I thought we were going to go through client lists later.”
“Got a call from the Carsons.” Gilbert shifts, his hat shadowing his eyes. “One of their heifers is down. Calving trouble.”
I can’t wait for calving season to end.
The Carsons were Bodie’s clients. I remember Percy Carson. He’s a salt-of-the-earth rancher, set in his ways, and none too fond of me, which he let me know when I bumped into him at an auction a few months ago.
Won’t this be fun!
I square my shoulders. “Alright. Let’s go.”
We drive separately. I need my truck because it holds my equipment, and I have to check on Kincaid Farms in a couple of hours, which I hope will be enough to deal with the Carson heifer.
The Carson ranch sprawls wide, with faded red barns and rusted gates. We find Percy in the calving pen, cursing under his breath as he watches a heifer straining in the straw.
“About damn time,” he mutters when he sees me. His lined face doesn’t soften. “Bodie never made me wait.”
“Well, Mr. Carson, Bodie ain’t here, is he?” I smirk. “I can leave if my presence bothers you.”
He grunts. “We gotta breach. Calf’s stuck, she’s goin’ downhill fast.”
I set my kit down, pull on gloves, and crouch by the heifer. Her flanks heave, eyes rolling white, sweat darkening her hide.
My examinations confirm what Percy deduced: the calf’s backward, hips jammed.
I stroke the heifer gently. “I’m gonna take care of you, mama. You just hold on.” I turn to Percy, who is still glaring at me. “We need to reposition.”
Percy snorts. “If Bodie were here, this’d be done already.”
“Percy, can you stop harassing the only vet in a hundred-mile radius?” Gilbert’s jaw ticks.
That makes me smile and Percy grunt.
We get to work. It’s my first time working with Gilbert as an assistant, and I’m very pleased to find out that he’s very efficient. He hands me whatever I need, chains, flashlight, lube, before I can ask for it.
I work fast, sweat running down my back as I shift the calf inside its mother, every muscle in my arms straining.
The heifer groans low, sides heaving, pushing against me and gravity both.
She’s tired, worn out, and so is her calf.
“I know, girl. But you ain’t gonna quit on me.”
I slide my hand along the calf’s legs again, making sure the hooves are aligned right, the head tucked forward instead of bent back. The wrong angle now could cost them both their lives.
Satisfied, I reach for the OB chains, loop them snug around the slippery hooves, and check the knots twice.
“Easy, mama,” I murmur, bracing my boots in the straw. The heifer shifts, grunts. The contractions come harder now. “We’re gonna do this together. Gilbert, hold her with all you’ve got.”
“Yes, Dr. K.”
When the next contraction ripples through her, I lean back with every ounce of strength I’ve got, pulling in rhythm with her push. The chains go taut, the calf’s legs slide forward inch by inch.
“Come on,” I grit through my teeth. “You’ve got this.”
The calf’s nose appears, slick and dark, then shoulders, broad and stubborn. I adjust my grip, angle my pull downward to ease them past. The heifer bellows, one last desperate surge, and then….
The calf slides free into my arms, wet and heavy, a bull calf, hitting the ground with a gasp and a flail of legs.
I drop to my knees, clearing the calf's nostrils fast with my hand.
“Come on, little one.” I rub hard at its ribs until a rough, wet cough rattles out, followed by the sweetest sound in ranching—a thin, reedy bawl.
The heifer moans, turning her head, licking at her calf with soft, raspy strokes.
“Good girl,” I whisper, breathless, exhausted, and grinning through the sweat and straw plastered to my skin. “You did it.”
Percy lets out a grunt, more annoyed than relieved. “About time.”
I ignore him, checking the heifer. “I know you’re tired, but you’re gonna be just fine.”
As I clean up, Percy decides to piss me off, again. “Heard you’re the one who poisoned Cade Mercer’s Angus.”
I freeze, blood pounding in my ears. “What did you just say?”
He folds his arms. “Rumor’s all over town. Bodie gone, Cade’s cattle near dead, and who’s the one sniffin’ around his ranch? You.”
I rip off my gloves, fury boiling up hot and fast. “You mind what you say, Percy Carson, ‘cause the reason your heifer is alive right now, as is your bull calf, is ‘cause of me.”
“Don’t threaten me.” Then he looks at me smugly, arches an eyebrow. “Funny how trouble follows you, same as ten years ago.”
Before I can explode, Gilbert steps forward, his voice steel. “That’s enough, Percy.”
He rounds on Gilbert. “You don’t know—”
“You called us for help, and she just saved your heifer and calf.” Gilbert’s drawl is low, dangerous. “If you can’t show gratitude, the least you can do is shut your mouth.”
The silence crackles. Percy mutters something under his breath and stomps off toward the barn.
“Hey.” Gilbert touches my arm lightly. “He’s an old bastard stuck in his ways. Don’t let him crawl under your skin.”
“Is that the rumor around town? That I hurt Cade’s Angus?” My throat closes.
His gaze is unwavering, warm in a way I didn’t expect. “Dr. Kirk, rumors are like foamy spit on a sick steer—looks nasty, but it ain’t the real sickness.”
I chuckle despite myself. “You have a way with words, Gilbert.”
“Look, Bodie trusts you, and so do I. And Percy can be an asshole if he wants, but the truth is you got here and you did your job, better than anyone I know, and I’ve worked with plenty of vets in my life.”
His vote of confidence gives me a mini-boost, which is shattered when I arrive at the Horseshoe Diner.
“I got no table for you,” Eunice Knowles, who owns the place, tells me when I take two steps in.
She started out not too friendly, but then it got better when I took care of her cat. But we’re back to square one.
I look around the place, and there are several tables free, especially right by where Noelle is sitting with her posse.
“What’s this about?” I ask, though I know.
Rumors, as I well know and unlike what Gilbert thinks, are like pinkeye in a herd—one spark and pretty soon everybody’s infected.
“You poisoned Cade’s Angus,” Noelle shouts from the other end of the diner. “We don’t want you in Wildflower Canyon.”
A cowboy sitting at the bar grunts. “Yeah, get the fuck out of town, bitch. You’re not wanted.”
Last time, I just let them say what they wanted because I was so broken, but this time, however, no fucking way.
When I get to Blue Rock ranch, I’m vibrating with anger. My palms sting from where I clasped the steering wheel of my truck too tight.
The caliche crunches under my tires as I pull up, dust curling in the late-afternoon sun. I find Cade by the south pasture, stacking fence rails onto a flatbed. His hat’s tossed on the truck hood, and his shirt—gone.
Sweat runs down his torso, catching in the grooves of muscle I have no business noticing. His jeans hang low on his hips, and every swing of the rail makes his back flex like a damn advertisement for sin.
I slam the truck door hard.
His head jerks up, eyes narrowing as I storm across the field. “Sarah.”
“You son of a bitch!” My voice cracks across the pasture like a whip. “You’re spreading rumors again?!”
He stills, rail half-lifted. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“I was at Percy Carson’s ranch. Then I went to the Horseshoe, where they wouldn’t give me a table. You know why?”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“‘Cause there’s a rumor going around that I poisoned your Angus. That I’m the reason Thunder damn near died.” I curl my hands to stop them from shaking and set them on my hips. “How could you?”
His jaw ticks, eyes flashing. “I didn’t say that. Not to Percy, not to anyone.”
“How about your girlfriend? Noelle was at the diner. She told me I should leave Wildflower Canyon.”
“I haven’t talked to Noelle in days.”
“Maybe you’ve fucked her, and this was pillow talk,” I throw at him. But the image of him in bed with her…well, it leaves a real bad taste in my mouth.
“Not with her like that…not since I saw you.” His voice is low, but I catch his words, and they confuse me. So I stick with anger instead of bewilderment.
“Then why is she spewing that nonsense?”
“You think I’d do that to you again?” He steps closer, voice rough. “After everything?”
I want to scream yes. I want to scream no. Instead, I back up a step, but he follows, closing the distance until I can feel the heat of him, smell the mix of sweat and leather…and Cade.
I spit out a laugh, all edge and no warmth. “You already did that once, Cade. You believed the lie instead of me. You turned this whole damn town against me.”
His nostrils flare, his chest rising and falling like he’s holding back a storm. “I regret that more than you’ll know. I didn’t spread this shit. I’d sooner eat dirt than let anyone lay that at your feet.”
I cross my arms tight, my heart hammering. “I don’t believe you.”
His eyes burn. “Then look me in the eye, Dove. Tell me you really think I’d hurt you this way.”
I open my mouth—ready to fling more anger, ready to protect myself with rage. But he stops me by cupping my cheek.
“I swear on Evie’s life, Sarah—I didn’t say a word. Told everyone how you saved my Angus. Told ‘em you’re an amazing vet.”
The air between us hums, sharp as electricity. My heart trips, and when his mouth dips close. I don’t move away. My body betrays me, leaning in, ready to answer with a hunger I thought I’d buried a decade ago.
Bandit’s bark and Evie’s high and bright voice saying, “Daddy,” makes us break apart so fast that I almost stumble.
Cade swears under his breath.
Bandit barrels across the pasture, barking, with Evie right behind him, pink dress flying, curls bouncing.
Evie launches into her father’s arms. “Bandit and me were playin’ chase! Did you see?” She grins at me. “Dr. K, you want to see the doghouse Daddy made for Bandit?”
Saved—by the kid and the dog.
Hallelujah!
Cade presses a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head, but his eyes stay locked on me over her curls.
They’re dark and stormy, but soft, too. I know how he’s feeling because I feel the same.
For a moment there, we both remembered how to breathe past our pain.
That terrifies just as much as it thrills me.