Chapter 2
Chapter Two
ADDY
T he machines attached to the horse’s muzzle hiss and whir. The green material draped over the gelding’s body rises and falls with the steady rhythm of its breathing. I clamp off the last of the small vessels and cauterize it. The dank tang of burning flesh creeps behind my mask, but I don’t even care.
I did it.
The final surgery of the day. One more patient fixed up and on the road to recovery.
“Excellent work, Addy. Stitch him up. I’ll meet you outside to talk to the owners,” Joe says. He’s my mentor of three years—during my last year of vet school and the two years I have interned under his wing in the New York Equine Veterinary Clinic. Of all the places to intern, this was a magnificent opportunity.
And I would stay here in a heartbeat, if I wanted a narrow field of focus. But I want to learn from others and garner experience from every horse industry I can. I plant the last stitch into the gelding and hand him over to the very capable nurses.
Pushing through the swinging theater doors, I pull off my face mask and untie the cord at the back of my gown and toss them all into the linen cart. Now down to my scrubs, I wander through the next set of doors to where Joe and the owners wait in the well-lit hall.
“Here she is now. Addy, how is Bandit?”
“He’s doing great. Just closed up, and his vitals are stable. The recovery should be straightforward.”
The man and woman stand with polite smiles, their high-end clothes immaculate. Her blonde hair is styled and neat, his brown hair swept to the side, and they release a collective breath. “Thank goodness. That gelding is worth a fortune. Out of competition is not ideal. Thank you for your work, Doctor... ?”
“Dr. Howard. But you can call me Addy.” A smile blooms over my face. I will never tire of being called Dr. Howard, but Addy is much better.
“Thank you, Addy,” the woman says, gripping my hands with hers.
“You’re most welcome.”
“Right, well, I will show you to recovery. You can wait for Bandit to come to, if you like?” Joe says to the owners.
“Yes, absolutely.”
They follow him as he shows them down the hallway and through the next set of swinging double doors. I lean on the wall, blowing out a breath. It’s so surreal to be done. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I open my eyes. The instant I glance at the name, I smile. Dad.
I swipe the screen.
All done! Adds, we are so stinkin’ proud of you, my girl.
Thanks, Dad.
Your mom wants to know if you have time to come over for lunch tomorrow, to celebrate?
Ah, sorry, Dad, have to be in Montana in four days. I’m leaving this afternoon. Only need to load the Cherokee up with my few boxes and I’m off.
Well, you drive safe, and remember, if those cowboys don’t appreciate you, you can always come home. Joe will always take you back.
Joe is my dad’s best buddy from college. So, I guess you could say he is more like an uncle to me. And he rode me hard when I first started. Six of us started, and only four of us stuck it out. The pressure is intense in a prestigious clinic like this. Horses are worth thousands; their owners are not always easy to deal with. But it was worth every mistake, every heartache, every handful of days that I stayed awake for too long to make sure my patients had continuity of care.
Will do, Dad. Love you both. Kiss Mom for me, will you?
Ten four.
With a sigh, I close my eyes briefly. Everything is lighter. Almost as if the closing of one chapter and the beginning of the new one I am about to embark on is so right. Down-to-my-bones right. Something in my soul knows that in Montana, in the mountains, in that rugged wilderness, I am going to find myself. Prove my mettle. Excited is an understatement.
“Adds, you’re done! You’re free!” Joe’s excitement almost matches mine as he strides back down the corridor toward me.
I chuckle and push off the wall. He slings an arm over my shoulders. “Fancy a drink to celebrate?”
Everyone wants to celebrate. It’s nice.
“Sorry, long drive, and I leave this afternoon.”
“Bummer, well”—he removes his arm and turns to face me—“you know, if things don’t work out in Hicksville, we will take you back with open arms.”
“Thanks Joe, but hopefully, it will be what I need.”
Another thing I am hoping to get out of moving halfway across the country—distance from Adam. The one person who I am happy to be leaving behind. Ex-boyfriend, classmate, and utter douchebag. Well, at least that’s what I tell myself when he tries to crawl back. Every time, I cave and let him back in. It never lasts—he always finds a new way to hurt me. Honestly, I have no idea why I let him, but a face like that is hard to say no to. And he’s familiar, comfortable. Not to mention the British accent...
And so not happening again.
Like ever.
Thousands of miles should be enough to let me move on. Here’s hoping. I make my way to the staff room and spin the dial on my locker. It opens, and photos of my parents flutter. I pull out my tote bag and pluck them from the metal door, smiling at the sweet face of my best friend, Ruby.
I will miss her. So much. But Rubes promises to visit. She is always traveling with her job, anyway, as an events coordinator working with high-end companies, new and established resorts, and travel destinations. I tap out a message to her.
Hey Rubes, I’m heading west this afternoon. I’ll call you when I get there.
My phone pings a second later.
Yes, please do, drive safe. Promise to visit you out in cowboy country asap!
I will hold you to that, Ruby Robbins!
Tapping out my goodbyes, I shove the rest of my belongings into my tote and shut the locker. All that is left to do is hand in my key card and say my goodbyes.
When the last box is piled into the trunk of my Cherokee, I take one last sweep around the small apartment that has housed me for the last eight years. I never thought I would ever miss this space, but seeing it void of the things that made it my home, I feel a little sad. Not dwelling, I shut the door and head back to the car. Time to bust these city limits.
I turn the keys over and start the car. The Bluetooth connects. “Siri, play Montana playlist.”
The twang of the country music playlist Joe compiled for me floods the car. I chuckle a little at the foreign sound, but after an hour, I am humming along to some of the tunes. They’re actually not too bad.
Lewistown is my destination. And if these songs are worth their salt, the place should feel like home the moment I step foot on Montana dirt. But I won’t hold my breath. As long as I have a job vetting horses and am miles away from Adam, everything else I can figure out as I go. Settling in for the long drive, I swear my singing gets better with every mile.
Four days later, the welcome sign for Lewistown comes into view. I pull over at the first gas station and pull up the address for my apartment. I punch the deets into the phone and let the GPS lady guide me home. GPS Gwen. No secrets here ...
Gwen and I are on a first-name basis after the last four days and one never-ending road trip. We’re besties now. I snort a laugh at my own ridiculousness. Rolling through the quiet streets of Lewistown, I get a sense of what it’s like to live a slower-paced life. And I’m pleasantly surprised by the absence of honking horns, miles of bumper-to-bumper cars, and crossings packed with people.
It’s so calm. I can’t help the smile that grows over my face. When Gwen finally says “You have reached your destination,” I’m inclined to believe her.
“Gwen, you may be right.”
She doesn’t answer, of course. If I have learned anything about her over the past four days, it’s that she is the strong, silent type, apparently. I pull into the drive of the quaintest little townhouse I have ever seen. Its blue paint and white trim are gorgeous. The planters that hang from the windows on either side of the red door make me smile. “Wow.”
A good start to my next chapter. Made it here safely, check. Country cottage that feels like home, check. I turn off the ignition and climb out of the car. Kneading my hands into my lower back, I shut the door and slide my phone into my back pocket. Key’s under the front mat, the email from Sally, the receptionist of the clinic I will be working for, had said. I step up onto the small white porch and lift the coarse-fiber welcome mat. Sure enough, a single house key sits on the white-painted wood.
I slide it into the lock and open the door. The inside is as gorgeous as the outside. I walk into the foyer. The wall to my right is lined with brass hooks. A small, dark wooden side table stands underneath. The entrance opens to a living room and kitchen. The white farmhouse-style kitchen is gorgeous. There is a glass back door and a set of stairs to the left of it. I wander through the house, exploring.
Every room that I find makes me squeal.
“I can’t believe this is all mine!” I reach the top of the stairs. A queen canopy bed sits in the center of the largest bedroom I have seen in the last decade. A bathroom is joined to it on the left. With a tub! Ugh... Holy mama, these country bumpkins might be onto something.
I flop on the bed, arms out and eyes closed. With a laugh, I open my eyes and look to my vibrating phone.
Sally.
You have a call out first thing tomorrow morning. Harry Rawlins, mares for a checkup. Twelve mares, foaling date mid-late November. Don’t be late. He is a stickler for punctuality. 8am sharp. Rosewood Ranch, 40 miles out of town. Hillview road.
P.S. Welcome to Lewistown! Looking forward to meeting you tomorrow after the Rawlins’ visit. :)
Holy shit.
I squeal and kick my legs and swing my arms in the air. Time to get this city girl unpacked. I jump off the bed and take the stairs two at a time. An hour later, I am unpacked and headed to the downtown area to grab some groceries. With the last four days catching up to me, I yawn. It’s around eight when I decide tomorrow’s worth turning in early for.
The alarm I set blasts my eardrums. I groan and roll over, still slightly stiff from days of driving. I roll out of bed and pull on my jeans and a button-down shirt with my boots from the internship, comfortable but steel-capped and sturdy. I head to the kitchen and make a coffee before locking up and driving to the clinic.
I walk to the back, where the night shift nurses still have the door unlocked, and walk in to grab some gear. With all my supplies gathered, I double-check the address and tell Gwen. She is on it right away, and we set off, two girls heading for the hills of Montana.