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“You haven’t been doing this for a while—”
“I’ll need a hose and water,” Cara said, interrupting his questions. “Could you get that for me, Mr. Chapman?” she asked, gently tugging on the stick.
He grumbled a moment, but left, giving Cara room to breathe.
Cara eased the stick the rest of the way out, moving more carefully than she might have with someone else’s horse, with someone else watching. She wanted to prove herself to Nicholas—to prove she wasn’t as incompetent as his father seemed to think.
The stick came out without too much exertion. It was exactly as she had said. It had slipped between the muscles and had only punctured the skin.
“Thankfully the injury isn’t major.” She stood up and held out the stick to Nicholas, who took it from her without a word.
She got a large jug of distilled water and a bottle with a squirt cap from the car.
She gently ran her hands over the wound, then, pulling apart the skin, began to rinse. “I’m just doing an initial cleaning of the wound to make sure everything is okay,” she said, intent on her task. “The rest will have to be done with a hose.”
“Won’t that be too cold?” Nicholas asked.
Cara shook her head, gently cleaning away a few bits of wood she had rinsed out of the wound. “The cold water will probably be soothing and help reduce any inflammation.”
“And it will heal on its own? You’re not going to stitch it up?”
“The wound needs to stay open so you can irrigate it. It will heal better that way.”
“Really?”
“Are you questioning my abilities, as well?” she asked, as an edge entered her voice.
“What do you mean, ‘as well’?”
Cara didn’t reply. The words had spilled out in a wave of frustration with Mr. Chapman and Nicholas, but mostly with herself for her silly reactions to their presence.
“Duke is my father’s favorite roping horse. You can’t blame him for making sure he’s being taken good care of.” Nicholas frowned at her. He seemed surprised at her anger.
And he should be. When they were dating, she never lost her temper. She had always done what was expected. Been the one to keep the peace.
Fat lot of good that had done her.
Now, despite her simmering anger, she still couldn’t break an age-old habit of avoiding confrontation, so instead of defending herself, she simply turned back to her patient and kept working.
“Here’s the hose,” Dale called out as he climbed over the corral fence. “You sure this will work?”
Cara didn’t bother to answer. She just held her hand out for the end.
“You want to be careful with the angle of the hose. You don’t want to be streaming the water directly upward into the wound,” Cara said, demonstrating what she meant. “And keep the pressure low. You don’t want to reinjure any regenerating tissue.” She handed the hose to Nicholas and straightened, easing the crick out of her back.
“How will I know when I’m done?”
“Just do it for about ten minutes at a time. You’ll also want to rinse the edges of the wound to keep it clean and to prevent it from scabbing over.”
“It will never grow together.” Dale planted his hands on his hips as if challenging her expertise. “You’ll need to stitch it.”
“I’ve seen a horse with a foot-long gash in its side that healed up on its own,” Cara replied. “It’s quite surprising how the body heals.”
Dale didn’t reply, and Cara hoped he was finished questioning and doubting her abilities.
She crouched down again, getting a closer look at what Nicholas was doing.
“Just keep doing that,” she said, gently prying aside the skin. “I don’t see any more bits of wood coming out and the water is running clean, so I think the bleeding has gone down.”
She gently ran her hands down the leg, to double-check. “I’ll give him some long-acting penicillin and I think that’s all I need to do.”
Nicholas stayed where he was and shot her a quick glance. As soon as their eyes met, she felt a lightness in her chest, as if someone had pulled her breath away. Stop. Stop.
She caught her breath again, wishing her heart would settle down. How would she last until Gordon Moen, the new vet, came if a few glances from Nicholas could create such a strong reaction?
Cara closed the kit, latched it shut and drew a long, steadying breath, thankful she was just about done. “Do you have any more questions?”
Nicholas held her gaze and she saw a question in his eyes. It seemed as if he was going to say something, but then he drew back and shook his head. “If I do, I guess I can call the clinic.”
She nodded, then turned away, surprised at a little flare of disappointment.
When she got to her car she was dismayed to see that Mr. Chapman had followed her.
“So you’re all done?” he asked, staring at her from beneath his cowboy hat.
“The wound is clear and it looks like it should heal up just fine. I’ll come by next week to double-check if I have time.” Cara kept her tone professional. Detached, even, as she wondered why Dale had followed her.
Dale folded his arms over his chest, frowning. “He’s over you, you know.” His voice was quiet, determined. “He’s started dating again.”
She shouldn’t care. Of course Nicholas would date again.
“That’s good. I’m glad for him.”
“He’s got his own plans and his own life,” he said, and though his voice had a threatening edge, as he spoke Cara caught the faintest note of desperation. Did he think she had any influence over his son’s behavior?
“Again, I’m glad for him and you,” she said, keeping her tone even. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another call to make.”
She pushed past him, her heart pounding with a variety of emotions. Frustration with Dale and her own silly reaction to Nicholas.
Too emotionally draining, she thought on the car ride back. Give it time.
She walked into the clinic and glanced at the clock as her stomach growled.
“Bill, you here?” she called out.
“He went out on a call,” Anita replied from the front of the office. Anita came to the back of the clinic where Cara was replenishing her kit, wiping her hands on a towel.
“Did he say when he’d be back?”
“He had to go to Hunt’s place and you know what a zoo that is.”
“So, not until this afternoon.” Cara sighed. Her workload just got heavier. She had a few appointments after lunch and she hoped no emergencies cropped up in the meantime.
Anita gave her an apologetic smile. “I know you’ve had a busy morning, but I have to run to the bank and deal with an overdraft. Do you mind covering the office for me?”
Cara didn’t want to, but she didn’t feel like telling Anita that. “If I get an emergency call, I’ll have to call you back,” Cara warned.
“Yeah. Sure.” Anita flashed her a smile. “You’re a dear. I’ll make it up to you sometime.”
Cara nodded as she closed the lid of the kit. Anita already owed her two lunch hours and a coffee break, but Cara wasn’t about to get fussy about collecting on them. Once Gordon arrived, her job here was done.
Then, two minutes after Anita left, the buzzer to the front door sounded.
Of course, Cara thought, wiping her hands.
Trista Elderveld stood in the foyer, holding aloft two plastic bags and a tray of coffee. Her trim suit made her look far more professional and put together than Cara knew she actually was.
“Hey, girlfriend,” Trista said with a quick grin. She put down the bags and coffee and gave her old friend a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about your uncle.”
Cara returned the hug. “Thanks. It’s so good to see you again.”
Trista pulled back and tugged at Cara’s hair. “I like the longer length. Looks romantic.”
“I was going for ‘easier to care for,’” Cara said, deflecting Trista’s loaded comment. “What do you have there?” she asked, pointing to the bags on the counter.
“Coffee and sub sandwiches from Hortons.”
Cara’s stomach groaned as she caught the scent of roasted onion. “You are a lifesaver. I just got back from a call at the Chapman ranch and thought I’d have to miss lunch.”
“Really?” Trista angled her a curious glance. “And how did that go?”
“I was working. That’s how it went.” Cara’s stomach reminded her again that she hadn’t eaten anything since the banana she gobbled down on the way to work this morning. “Why don’t we go eat in my uncle’s office so the front doesn’t smell like a deli.”
“Did you see Nicholas at all?” Trista asked as she followed Cara down the hall to the back office. “Did you talk to him? I heard he went to the hospital with you and your aunt.”
“We’re not talking about Nicholas, okay?” Cara said, keeping her tone firm, just in case Trista didn’t get the hint.
“Changing subject, now.” Trista unwrapped her sandwich. “How’s your uncle doing?”
“He wants to come home already, but the doctor wants to keep an eye on him for a while.”
“You doing okay, jumping back into large animal after treating puppies and guppies at your last job?” Trista asked with a grin.
“It’s a nice change of pace.” Cara took another bite and sighed with satisfaction. “No one makes sandwiches like Hortons. Thanks a bunch for doing this.”
“I had an ulterior motive,” Trista said, popping a pickle in her mouth. “I had stuff I needed to talk about without your aunt or uncle around. Anita told me Bill is gone on a call, so I hoped I could catch you alone.”
“Sounds mysterious,” Cara said, pushing an errant onion back between the slices of bread.
“Not so mysterious.” Trista finished her sandwich, balled up the paper and tossed it in the garbage can. “I’m getting married.”
Cara almost choked. “What? When?”
“A couple of weeks.”
This time Cara did choke. Trista bounced across the room and pounded her friend on the back.
“What’s the supersonic rush, girlfriend?” Cara gasped as she reached for her water bottle, struggling to gain her breath and composure.
Trista rubbed the side of her nose, then sighed. “Well, I’m pregnant.”
Cara almost coughed again and was about to say something when her friend held up her hand.
“Before you say anything, you need to know that this isn’t, well, wasn’t a regular thing.” Trista was blushing now and Cara was still speechless. “It just, well, happened. And we were talking about getting married anyway, so this just hurries up the process.”
Cara sat back, still trying to absorb this information.
“Lorne’s a great guy,” Trista hastened to explain. “And I know he and Mandy used to be engaged, but that was different because she never liked his parents and they never really liked her.”
Which sounded exactly like Nicholas’s father, Cara thought.
“…but I love him and I know he loves me and I know we’ll be happy together.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Cara said, wishing she could be more enthusiastic about the situation.
Trista’s smile trembled a moment and her eyes shone as if with tears. “I wish you could be happy for me. I know I’m happy in spite of how things are going.”
Cara got up and gave her dear friend a quick hug. “If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”
“He will and he does,” Trista said, her eyeblink releasing a tear. She brushed it away and sniffed lightly. “I love him more than I ever thought I could love someone, and he’ll be a great husband and a fantastic dad.”
Trista’s enthusiastic defense of Lorne created a genuine smile in Cara.
Trista sniffed again, then looked back at Cara. “So now, I’m wondering how long you’re sticking around?”
Cara felt a peculiar warmth as she guessed exactly where this was going. “I guess long enough to be at your wedding.”
“So will you stand up for me at my wedding?”
Cara’s smile blossomed. “Of course. For all the times you stood up for me when I first came here and for all the times you stuck up for me, yes, my dear friend, I will stand up for you.”
Trista laughed aloud. “I’m so glad. You know your being here is an answer to prayer.” Then a horrified look crossed her features and she held her hand up. “Not that I think your uncle’s heart attack is an answer to prayer, but the fact that you’re here and that you’re not leaving and—”
“I know what you meant,” Cara said with a melancholy smile as her own emotions veered from a tinge of jealousy to genuine pleasure. “And I would be honored to be your maid of honor.”
Trista heaved a satisfied sigh. “I’m so, so glad. I know the wedding is sudden, but we both knew we wanted to get married and figured why waste time on a long engagement, which worked out perfectly because that means you’re here for the wedding and everything seems to be falling into place…and I should stop talking so much, shouldn’t I?” Trista gave a short laugh as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “You know I always talk a lot when I’m nervous and I was so worried you’d say no.”
“Why would I do that?” Cara tossed her own sandwich wrapper in the garbage can and leaned back to smile at her friend.
