Chapter 9 Jake #2
“Fine. Take me home,” she said, hopping the last few steps to the passenger door.
She swung the door open with more force than necessary and I barely missed taking the edge of the door to my shin.
She reached for the grip and hoisted herself onto the seat while grimacing in pain.
I watched her struggle and finally stepped forward to help her finish getting in the truck, trying very hard not to think about how good it felt to touch her.
I felt like an ass given how much pain she was in, but I couldn’t stop mentally replaying the way we’d made love to each other that night in the rain. In this moment, we were boiling mad at each other, but that didn’t change the arc of attraction between us.
I got in the driver’s seat and headed toward the main road.
As I drove, I considered my options. I could take her home, get her ice and ibuprofen, and see that she had everything she needed for the day.
I could hear her making small, pained noises even though she tried not to, and I was convinced that she required ongoing care.
It might be a sprain as she thought, but even then she could do more damage by walking on it too soon.
I’d learned that the hard way when I was a teenager and took a fall from a horse.
I’d declared that my arm was fine, and I’d been partially right.
It hadn’t been broken, but I’d made a bad sprain worse by continuing to use that arm until my mother forced me to go to the urgent care center.
I wasn’t letting that happen to Julia. I made the turn toward her ranch, but when her driveway came into sight, I drove on by.
“What are you doing?” she said. “I live there.” She pointed behind us. “Or have you forgotten?”
“I know where you live,” I said, gearing up for another fight. “I’m taking you to the urgent care center.”
“I don’t need to go there. It’s just a sprain.
Turn around and take me home. Now.” Her tone was imperious, as if she expected to be obeyed—but that wasn’t going to happen.
I continued driving toward the urgent care center knowing full well that I might destroy the tenuous relationship that existed between us to the point I’d have to find another on-call vet.
But dammit, what if it was worse than she thought and she was too stubborn to do anything about it?
She crossed her arms in front of her and I heard her huff, but other than that it was a silent drive until I pulled up in front of the urgent care center.
“I’ll help you out,” I said, taking my seatbelt off.
“I’m not going in. There’s no reason to. It would be a waste of my time. Drive me home or I’ll call someone who will.” She pulled her phone out and appeared to be scrolling through her contacts.
“You can go in the easy way or the hard way,” I said, undeterred.
She shot me a look across the cab and tapped her screen to pull up a number.
I’d had enough, so I got out, went around to her side of the truck, and flung the door open.
I clicked the button to undo her seatbelt, tossed her phone onto the seat, and flung her over my shoulder, fireman style, before stalking toward the entrance.
“What are you doing?” Her fists beat on my back. “Dammit, Jake! Put me down.”
“You’re making a scene,” I said, giving a nod to the nurse sitting at the check-in. “Cooperate or I’ll carry you like this all the way into the x-ray room. That’ll give the town gossips something to talk about for days.”
She stopped pounding on me, apparently realizing that I was serious. “Damn you,” she muttered. “Put me in a wheelchair.”
Progress. I gently lowered her into a chair, careful not to bump her injured leg. She’d loosened her boot on the drive and I could see how swollen her ankle was. When she was settled, I pushed Julia toward the check-in.
“Don’t bother waiting for me,” she said to me after speaking to the nurse. “If you bring me my phone, I can get someone to pick me up.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” To prove my point, I stayed with her until a nurse came to take Julia through to the treatment area.
After that, I walked outside to park my truck and make a few phone calls.
My first was to Martin Ranch Supply, where I ordered a supply of my previous brand of feed to be delivered.
Owen Martin answered the phone, and he promised it would be there before evening.
I didn’t want to believe that Luke would knowingly use an inferior product, but I needed to take immediate action to get Queenie back on her feet and prevent any of the other horses from becoming ill.
I called Davis, my foreman, next to explain to him the problem with the feed and the need to switch back.
“Glad to hear it, boss,” Davis said making me frown.
“What do you mean?” My question came out harsher than I intended, but I was growing increasingly sick of everyone seeming to know more than me. I could hear him hemming and hawing into the phone and I was in no mood for it. Finally, he answered.
“Your dad wasn’t impressed with the quality of the feed, which was why he refused to order it,” Davis said.
“You were there when I placed the order. Why didn’t you say anything?” I demanded.
The older man barked out a harsh laugh. “You ever try to talk down a Thorne when they get something in their head?” That was a fair point. Hell, even Cal had a stubborn streak and he wasn’t a Thorne. “I figured you did the research and knew something I didn’t.”
I hadn’t. Not at all. When I got off the call, I returned to the waiting room and took a seat.
The news was playing on the television, but I ignored that and spent the time checking my email.
I’d put out some feelers to ranchers and breeders in the area about purchasing a stallion.
I’d even gone to see one about a half-day’s drive away, but I hadn’t been satisfied with the animal.
The horse was decent stock, but not in the same category as Twister.
I quickly sorted through the messages from sellers, but none of the horses they described seemed like a good fit for me. I’d have to decide on one soon, though. Julia wasn’t going to let me buy Twister. Hell, I would be lucky if she let me within a hundred miles of her after today.
After that one, magical night together, I’d thought there was maybe something there, but she’d gone cold when I’d opened my mouth and inserted my foot.
Julia had the power to put me on edge and make me feel things I couldn’t begin to describe, much less understand. To say the least, it was unsettling.
About the time I started to eye the stack of old magazines and consider picking one up, Julia came from the back on crutches. Her boot was off her foot, and she had a brace strapped to her ankle.
“Sprained,” she said before I could ask. “As I suspected.” She looked away for a second. “But the doctor said that it was a good thing I came in. I have to stay off it for a week, maybe two.”
“Good thing to know,” I commented, keeping my tone neutral.
“I appreciate you driving me here, but Sofia can take me home after she gets off her shift at the sheriff’s office. You don’t need to stay.”
Like hell. “You can text Sofia from my truck and tell her that you’ve got a ride.”
“You’ve done more than enough today,” she said, and her tone was a mix of anger and something else I couldn’t identify.
“Julia, you live next door to me. I have to go past your driveway to get to my ranch. I’m taking you home.” I hoped the logic of my argument would convince her. “I’ll bring the truck up.”
I couldn’t be certain, but as I walked away, I thought I heard her say, “Thanks.”