Hunter (Stud Ranch 2)

He finally turned and moseyed back the way he came, moving so slowly she could have screamed. The instant he disappeared around the corner she unrolled the blue fabric and saw it was a pair of coveralls. She eagerly stepped into them. They were huge on her but still better than putting on the poop clothes. She pulled up the front zipper. The crotch sagged and she had to roll up the legs so they didn’t drag on the ground, but that was fine. She grabbed all the equipment and her boots. Her boots were clean enough to hold underneath her arm, but she held her dirty, wet clothes between her thumb and forefinger as she headed back toward the truck.

She stepped carefully across the field back toward the driveway. It was muddy from recent rains and she had the disconcerting feeling that anything that looked like mud could just as well be more manure. A comforting thought, when she was walking barefoot.

That was it, tomorrow she’d ask Melanie if she’d mind using her Amazon account to order some work boots.

Isobel finally made it back to the truck and threw everything in the back. They’d disinfect the chains and cow puller when they got back to the clinic. In the meantime, she needed to dip her entire body in Purell.

When she rounded the truck, she heard voices.

“A live calf? That’s great to hear.”

“Yep. A little heifer. She was getting milk and feeding well when I left her.”

“You always do a great job, Hunter.”

“Not a problem. You have a good night now.”

Isobel’s hands clenched into fists. Did he actually just take credit when she’d—

Hunter was still smiling when he came around the truck and saw her standing there. If he noticed how furious she was, he didn’t let it show.

He just looked down at her bare, dirty feet. “Clean those up before you get in the truck.” He opened the driver’s side door. Oh,” he paused right before climbing up. “And next time,” his smirk was fully back in place, “you might want to tie the cow to the gate with the harness so she stays in one place. Though I gotta say, I did enjoy the show.”

Chapter 11

ISOBEL

Three weeks later, Isobel was still smarting about the mistake she’d made with that first calving. How dumb could she get? She couldn’t believe she’d made the most basic of mistakes. Not tying up the freaking cow? Facepalm. And then she’d looked like a complete fucking idiot chasing that heifer all around.

She scrubbed shampoo into her hair as she thought about it.

Things hadn’t gotten much better in the ensuing weeks. She’d backed off asking to help in cases and Hunter seemed just fine with that. Probably because he assumed she was an imbecile who couldn’t even think to tie up a calving heifer.

During the daily in-clinic hours she felt a little more helpful. At least there she could direct the clients and their pets into the exam rooms. It had gotten so busy last Tuesday—one of Dr. Roberts’ off days—that there wasn’t any other choice except for her to help out. Several emergencies had come in on top of their regular appointments.

Isobel gave shots and dealt with minor complaints while Hunter took care of a collie with a major laceration and a choking llama that a man brought in with a trailer out back.

Then, without asking his permission—because screw him—she just started seeing and diagnosing clients on a regular basis. She was certified, damn it. So while he was dealing with patients in exam one, she took the next appointment in exam two. There’d only been one case so far that she’d wanted to check with Hunter on before giving treatment.

And he’d been civilized and professional about it. Maybe just because they were in front of the clients. She’d taken scrapings from a cat to check under the microscope, but wasn’t positive about what kind of parasite the animal was carrying. Isobel had felt about ninety percent sure what she was dealing with, but she’d wanted to double check.

Hunter had coolly agreed with her assessment and then gone back to his own patient without another word. So he was aware she was seeing patients on her own and apparently didn’t have anything to say about it. Yesterday, she’d seen him looking over the files of patients she’d seen that day. Since he hadn’t said anything, did that mean she was doing a good job?

She closed her eyes and let the shower spray rinse the shampoo out of her hair. She’d been disgustingly filthy again when she’d gotten home today and the shower felt divine.

She sank back against the shower wall, shoulders slumping.

If it was just the clinic work, she’d be flying high. She’d get too busy and focused to obsess about food or anything else. Her ham sandwich was downed on the run between cases without any fanfare. Breakfast was much the same—she was always in a rush to get to the clinic. That in and of itself felt like a miracle.

But then, after the clinic closed each day around 1:00, the farm calls began. And as satisfying as diagnosing a case of worms was or

stitching up a laceration after a cat fight, she couldn’t help feeling the farm work was more important. Pets might be beloved members of a family household, but the farm animals were people’s livelihood. Some of the farms they visited were small enough operations that every animal counted.

And she had no confidence in herself with the large animals after the calving fiasco. Hunter wasn’t doing anything to help either. He seemed constantly annoyed by her presence. Which was a problem since, you know, they were spending a lot of time together.

Hours and hours in the car every afternoon. Sometimes the calls lasted into early evening. She knew Hunter went out in the morning before coming into the clinic. And he’d been called out for an emergency foaling in the middle of the night a couple days ago. But she didn’t complain anymore about him not calling her in for these. The endless afternoon trips with him were bad enough.

Earlier today she’d finally grown the lady-balls to insist he let her help again. After all, the only way he even acknowledged her presence was when she forced him to.