Chapter 13 #2
“I watched Dillon deliver a calf last weekend,” Tessa said lamely. “I must still be riding the endorphins.”
“Oh, honey. That’s not endorphins. That’s a man.”
“I’m going to hang up now,” she said pleasantly.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to tell me whether my best friend is finally ready to admit she’s smitten with the grumpy veterinarian who, according to Ruth Sanger, shows up at her house no less than three times a week.”
“Ruth Sanger needs a new hobby.”
“Ruth Sanger has a new hobby. Your love life.”
Tessa rolled her eyes. Outside, June ambled into the paddock and lowered her graying muzzle to snuffle at the grass. “I’m not smitten.”
“How would you describe it?” Charlotte challenged.
“I . . . tolerate him.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I will admit that my level of tolerance for the grumpy vet may be increasing somewhat.”
Charlotte stopped teasing and waxed serious. “Whatever it is, Tessa, I’m happy for you. Glowing health or joy or whatever it is a good look on you.”
Charlotte offered to look after the Fashion Bow-tique for a few hours so Tessa could stay home and review the contract without interruption and they hung up.
Tessa looked down at Hamlet, who had rolled onto his side to present his belly for scratching. “I may be in trouble,” she told him. “Apparently, I glow now.”
He grunted, clearly agreeing with her.
Dillon’s truck came up the drive a little after ten, pulling a horse trailer she didn’t recognize. He must’ve had to take an animal to the big vet hospital in Bozeman this morning.
There was no reason for him to be there. The only current problem on the property was a few of the chickens had started being peckish about letting Tessa reach under them to collect the eggs.
She jogged down the steps and walked over to him as he hopped out of his truck. He stood there staring at her, a hint of concern in his eyes but a smile trying hard to emerge from his mouth.
What on earth was going on?
“Lucky for you I’m working from home this morning,” she said cheerfully. “I ought to be at the store today.”
“I saw your car in the drive,” he replied.
Right. That made sense.
He did an odd thing, then. He just stood there saying nothing. She couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or he truly didn’t know what to say. Finally, she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer and said questioningly, “Dr. Steele?”
“Mrs. Lawrence.”
She huffed and demanded bluntly, “Why are you here?”
“Two reasons. First, I got back the results of Dolly’s skin biopsy. Her mange is in full remission. Which means you can stop the skin treatments, quarantine, and stall disinfecting effective immediately.”
“Praise the Lord,” she said fervently.
“And pass the potatoes,” he added wryly. “Thought you might want a copy of the lab report that’s your release from llama purgatory.”
He held it out and her fingertips brushed his knuckles as she took it.
It was a brief touch. Less than a second. But time enough to register that his hand was warm and a little rough. She noticed abruptly that he smelled faintly of iodine and horse and hay . . . and she liked it.
Neither of them moved as they stared at each other.
Neither of them breathed, as far as she could tell.
Eventually, it occurred to her to ask, “What’s the second reason you’re here?”
“I have something for Makayla. But I need to get your permission first to give it to her. When I saw your car in the driveway while Makayla’s at school, I saw an opportunity to check with you while she’s not around.”
Tessa replied teasingly, “If it’s a rhinestoned western shirt to go with her pink boots and cowboy hat, I’m going to have to put my foot down and say no. My good taste in fashion will only bend so far before it breaks.”
“That’s not what I brought, but it’s a great idea,” he retorted, his eyes twinkling.
“Don’t you dare. I’d never get her out of it,” she laughed.
When their smiles had faded he said, “Pete Maddox called me yesterday. He’s a little short on cash to settle his bill with me at the moment, but he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. You may recall him mentioning that his daughter left for college last fall.”
“I do. She’s studying agricultural science at the University of Nebraska. Wants to develop drought resistant crops and farming methods.”
He grinned. “I don’t know how you remember those kinds of details about people.”
She shrugged. “Information is power in the business world.”
“You’re in Montana, now, kid.”
“People do business in Montana, too,” she retorted. “How do you think I built my store into a success and am doing the same for Charlotte’s wedding gown designs?”
“Fair point.” He paused. “Anyway, Pete’s daughter has a horse.
Name’s Murphy. A sweet old Quarter Horse gelding his daughter’s had since she was little.
He loves kids, is as trained as they come, and is bomb-proof, which is horse talk for he’s dead calm and nothing bothers or scares him.
Pete and Marla kept the horse because his daughter planned to come home this summer and ride him, but she’s gotten hired to work on a research project and is staying in Iowa this summer.
Pete hates to see Murphy stand around the pasture lonely and doing nothing, and he called to ask me if I’d be willing to take Murphy in payment for his vet bills. ”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “A good horse seems like way too much in trade for delivering one calf.”
Dillon smiled. “I’ve been making calls to Pete for months without taking payment.
He bought a bull that turned out to be sterile year before last and didn’t get any feeder calves last spring.
Had almost no beef to take to market last year and has been real tight on cash.
He’ll be okay come this fall, but in the meantime, I’ve run a tab for him. ”
“You’re a good man, Dillon Steele.”
“We’ll see if you think that in a minute.”
“Why?” she asked cautiously.
“Because Murphy’s in the trailer, and I’d like to give him to Makayla. She needs a proper riding horse and he’d be perfect for her.”
“You got her a horse?” Tessa gasped.
“Technically, I got me a horse. I’m just asking if I can board him here—I’ll pay you for feed and care—and if it would be okay to let Makayla ride him whenever she wants.”
“You got my daughter a horse,” she declared.
He shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
The last thing she needed was another mouth to feed around here, another animal to look after and worry about.
Dillon said evenly, “Makayla’s old enough to take care of a horse herself.
It’s a solid life lesson to be responsible for an animal.
It’s also important to learn that the fun part, riding, also requires the hard work of cleaning a stall, getting up early to feed, and being home every evening to feed again. ”
“You make a good point. But I’m concerned that if she has a horse she’ll get behind on homework and not practicing her violin like she should.”
“Then you make those the conditions of her keeping the horse. She can’t go out to the barn except to clean stalls or feed unless her homework’s done and she’s practiced fid—playing violin.”
She supposed that might work, but still. A horse was a huge investment of time, energy, and potentially money that she didn’t have.
He added persuasively, “She’s going to be a teenager soon, and all teens rebel. Might as well put in place a powerful incentive for her to stay focused on school and music instead of boys, friends, partying, and getting in trouble.”
She tried hard not to remember that Makayla was growing up fast, but he was right. Her teen years were the blink of an eye away.
“I’ll give her free riding lessons and even throw in free veterinary care for life,” he wheedled.
That was tempting.
“If it doesn’t work out, I’ll take him of your hands, no questions asked.”
“I seriously doubt it won’t work out. Makayla’s crazy about horses.”
“Exactly,” he said with a grin.
“It would make her the happiest kid in Montana.” She sighed. “And I suppose that’s the whole point of us moving out here to the farm. Fern knew how desperately Makayla needed this place.”
“I think Fern knew you needed it, too,” he said quietly.
She stared at him thoughtfully as she absorbed that truth bomb.
Had she and Makayla really been that miserable and unhappy in their little apartment in town?
She said reflectively, “Our life wasn’t bad before.
But it was . . . small.” She looked around at the whole farm.
“This place is so wide open and free. Makayla and I both are unwinding out here. I didn’t realize how tightly wrapped we both were until we got here. ”
He nodded slowly in agreement. “I’m glad you decided to accept Fern’s challenge and take on this place.”
She laughed shortly. “Fern didn’t leave me much choice. No way am I depriving my child of the opportunities a large trust fund will give her.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Why did you walk away from your own trust fund, then? Fern told me you left behind millions to stay in Montana.”
“I figured out that money buys pleasure but not happiness. There’s no question that having money makes life much easier and means you don’t have to worry about lots of things.
But my parents love money, not family or friends or anything else that really matters.
I realized I would work a job and come home exhausted, scrimp and save to make ends meet, and sit up nights worrying about the bills, surrounded by people I love and who love me, than live the empty, cold, loveless life they gave me. ”
“Wow,” he said softly. “That’s . . .”
“A lot?” she supplied. “Intense? Misguided? Stupid?”
He replied dryly, “I was going to go with something like wise or profound.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “I’ll take that. Most folks around here think it was the dumbest decision they’ve ever heard of.”
“They have reasonably happy families and loads of friends, which means they have no frame of reference for your choice,” he responded.
“That’s a kind way of looking at it.”