Chapter 3
Chapter Three
JOSH
I dropped my head, kneeled, and fisted the muddied straw bedding next to the calf.
The woman I had sacrificed everything for walked away down the frozen road. She was leaving me—again. I’d somehow managed to ruin our first meeting in eight years.
By the time I rushed out here, concerned she was in way over her head, she looked exhausted and frozen.
But Ms. Big City Vet turning the calf and then getting it hooked up on her own impressed me.
I should’ve told her I was blown away by her skill.
I had relief vets that couldn’t hook up a calf this well or this fast.
Instead, as usual when it came to Erika, I screwed it up in a way that painted a neon “Jackass” sign across my forehead. All I had needed to do was give her one “thank you” or even a “good job.” Instead, I’d gone to Defcon Level: Jerk.
Kind words had snagged in my throat. I hadn’t known where she and I stood.
Her flipping me off after graduation was the last real memory I had of us interacting.
Sure, we were both at her father’s wedding ceremony, but we avoided each other the entire time.
It felt like yesterday, but apparently yesterday was a long damn time ago.
Today’s Erika had grown-up, blonde highlights in a messy bun. She wore makeup now, something she’d sworn off in high school. It made her eyelashes’ length defy reality. And she had a line of piercings up both ears that looked like she’d fought boredom one needle at a time.
For years I’d blamed the full circus of emotions she triggered in me—infatuation, irritation, frustration—on teenage hormones. Maybe it was something else…
I watched her stalk away in mud-splattered, two-sizes-too-big coveralls, uncertain if I should chase her. Steam puffed from her nostrils in the frigid air like an angry dragon who knew exactly whose fault the cold was—probably mine, in her opinion.
Then it hit me. The Erika-madness of the past wasn’t teenage hormones. It was electrifying. And real. And honestly? A little terrifying. For the first time in forever, I felt something spark in my chest that wasn’t heartburn.
Damn it, I should’ve said something about her dad’s passing. I still couldn’t believe I’d never see Roland Chomping cuss at the moody centrifuge machine or fix the leaky clinic bathroom toilet for the thousandth time.
I moved to trail her to the truck, to at least offer her sympathy about losing her dad, but a hand clamped down on my forearm.
“You don’t want to go after that right now,” Drew warned. “She might have her dog bite you in the nuts.”
I scowled at Drew until he let go.
He took off his ball cap to scrunch a hand deep into his hair. “You always did act like she licked all the red off your candy.”
“That makes as much sense as tits on a bull.” With jerky movements, I picked up the used sleeve she’d left discarded in the dirty straw.
Drew and I had rebuilt our friendship since I fought with him after that disastrous high school game.
He had assumed the fight was because he missed a pop-fly that cost us the game.
That missed catch was pure laziness on his part, but also true to Drew’s nature.
Months later, he got me to admit the real reason we fought had everything to do with him kissing Erika.
“She did real good today,” Drew said. “She didn’t complain even when I could tell she was hurting something awful. You know she hates the cold. She also hates the smell of cow shit.”
“She did do good.”
“You could’ve told her that, not act like a complete dipshit.
What was up with the ear business?” Drew broke into an annoying grin.
“Kinda funny that she still makes you go stupid. I’ve known you since you peed in the corner of Mrs. Lang’s classroom in kindergarten.
I’ve also known her since first grade. Fair warning, if you force her to stay here, it won’t go well for you.
Let her go. She’s got enough on her plate with her dad gone without having to deal with how much she hates you. ”
“She owes me.” I zipped closed my backpack of supplies harder than necessary. I refused to admit out loud he was right. Although I respected how Drew had handled turning his father’s backward thinking farming concepts into progressive practices, Erika was a different matter.
“Her father owed you,” Drew said. “Not her. Damned sorry about Hope and Roland. Losing them is…awful for all of us, especially you.”
“Yeah. It’s a lot.” I hadn’t yet decided how to handle the debt her father owed me.
I needed help with the business. The never-ending overnights and getting less than three hours of sleep every night of the week wasn’t livable.
I’d reached out to a few relief vets, but they’re already booked elsewhere in the state for the next few weeks.
None of them would do on-call or overnight emergencies.
I hadn’t considered Erika staying to work at the clinic.
Now, I wondered if it might not be the right move.
It seemed like my only move to make life manageable.
“I’ve got a business I can’t run solo and a debt I can’t pay if I don’t have the help she could give me.
Her name on the contract says she owes me. ”
Guess I’d decided.
Drew clapped his hands together. “Excellent. You do everything possible to keep that fine woman here so I can get her to marry me. She’s the best thing that ever came out of Vision.”
“You’re not her type.” I ignored the urge to break his nose. The need was as irrational and absurd as it was overwhelming. The reaction had always been my default when it came to Drew’s puppy love for Erika.
I was beyond this. I’d grown miles past the na?ve kid who just wanted to play ball and escape Vision. At least, that’s what I’d been telling myself for years. I’d grown beyond…her.
Hadn’t I?
Life had taken its shots, tried to crack me open like a cheap pinata. What was left wasn’t exactly a triumph of the human spirit. More like a patchwork creature I’d stitched together from whatever leftover emotional scraps hadn’t blown away in the storm.
But seeing her again made all those carefully stitched seams itch.
Drew announced, “We know you ain’t her type, least not anymore. You’re taken, ain’t ya? At least, Milly would say you are. I, however, am free. I’m like a fine tequila. I get better with age.” He gestured down his body. “And I’m single.”
“Tequila doesn’t age like that.” Erika would come to me about the debt. She had to.
“One sip of this…” Drew smiled smugly as he flexed his biceps. “And she’ll hasta-la-vista your fickle ass once and for all.”
She hasta-la-vista-ed me over a decade ago.
Drew moved to block my exit. “You best stick with girls that run at a slower speed since you can’t keep up with a woman like Erika.” He gazed in the direction the truck had disappeared. “She’s a whole other level of fine. You had your shot. Now it’s my turn.”
“You can’t handle her.” It came out bitter.
“Do you think you can?”
“It ain’t my business to try.”
Drew shook his head and chuckled. “You screwed it up on purpose way back then. It was crazy. I know you regretted it. Total win for me. Now’s my turn.”