Turn and Burn (Blacktop Cowboys 5)

Maybe the coffee thing would work better. To start with anyway.

“I believe I’ll skip my plan for now and go with yours.” He grabbed the remote. “So, what game are we watching first?”

Fletch hadn’t taken an emergency call all day, so when Hugh at the Split Rock had called concerned about a new foal, he hadn’t hesitated to hop in his truck.

Not just because Tanna lived there and he had a chance to put his “friend” plan into play after he dealt with the animal. Which he was pretty sure was a dire diagnosis if Hugh contacted him on a Sunday afternoon.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten ten miles down the road that Fletch realized he hadn’t combed his hair, shaved or changed out of his ratty UW tank top. Yeah, he was some slick operator.

He took the dirt road to the left of the entrance that led to the barn. He snagged his medical bag and entered the barn—the cleanest he’d ever been in. Renner was a stickler about that.

Hugh was leaning over one of the last stalls. “Hey, Fletch.”

“Hugh. What’s up?”

“Pepper’s foal won’t get up. It’s been sitting in the same spot since early this morning. And Pepper knows something is wrong with it because she keeps pacing.”

“Did she let you get close?”

“Once. But all the other times she’s chased me off.”

“How long have they been in the barn?”

“Renner said she was actin’ funny yesterday afternoon when we were at the branding, so he brought her in. She didn’t have any problems with the birth.”

“The foal stood on its own?”

“It appeared to. It started to suck all right so I left ’em alone. That’s where it’s been since I got here at five this morning. Makes me sick to think I shoulda stayed and didn’t.”

Fletch clapped him on the back. “Pepper ain’t a first-time mother and I imagine you were whupped after branding yesterday, so cut yourself a break. I’m gonna get her to move back and then you’ll have to keep her there with a bucket of oats.” Fletch opened the gate. Before he got into the stall, Pepper blocked him, her big body protecting her baby.

He rubbed her neck. “Hey. You’re a good mama, aren’t you, Pepper. Watching out for your baby. Such a good girl. But I’m not gonna hurt it. We’re just talking here. I’ll bet you’re hungry. Been pacing and fretting. I just wanna have a little look-see. We’ll take it nice and slow. There’s a girl.” He kept stroking her, talking to her, gently urging her deeper into the stall. She didn’t balk or bolt when Hugh entered, but she stopped moving for a moment. When she deemed it okay, she allowed Fletch to maneuver her.

Hugh inched along the inside of the stall, holding a bucket. As he slowly approached Pepper, the bucket held by his side, Hugh started talking to her and Fletch stepped back. By the time Hugh reached Pepper with the oats, she’d forgotten about Fletch entirely.

He dropped beside the foal. It didn’t acknowledge Fletch at all. He waved his hand in front of the face. It didn’t flinch. Son of a bitch. It was blind. He ran his hand down the spine to the rump and felt the misalignment. The foal’s hip was broken. He patted the legs. They were cold and stiff. Most likely a piece of the broken hip rested on the spinal cord, which would account for why the foal initially stood but couldn’t now. He looked at the chestnut-colored filly and sadness washed through him. He patted her neck.

Pepper had finished the oats and was making chuffing noises at Hugh.

Fletch stood. “Sorry, man. It’s blind and paralyzed.”

“Shit. Seriously?” Hugh paused to stroke Pepper’s neck. “We’ve never had a problem with Pepper’s foals before.”

“Who was the stud?”

“I’m not sure. Tobin would know. So, what now?”

He reached the gate and pulled the handle to let himself out. “Pepper might stay calm now that she’s eaten. I’ll get the meds to put the poor little thing down. That’ll ease some of its misery. Try and get Pepper outside.”

“Not what I wanted to hear, Doc, but thanks for coming out.”

“No problem. Where’s Tobin?”

Hugh exited the stall. “Up at the lodge. Guess there ain’t guests registered but Renner wanted someone there in case they had walk-ins, since he and Tierney had plans.”

After he administered the meds and stayed to make sure there weren’t other issues, Fletch drove up the hill, saw the empty lot and was tempted to keep going around the bend to the employee housing. He had a legitimate reason for being at the Split Rock. Wouldn’t it be only natural if he stopped in to say howdy to his friend, Tanna?

Nah. Maybe that’d come across as stalkerish. Not something a friend would do. So he whipped into the main parking lot and killed the engine. He was thinking about the foal as he scaled the steps and cut through the hallway to the great room.

A loud female “Yes” was followed by a long groan and it echoed to him.

Fletch froze. He’d heard that before. That exact same pitch. But the last time he’d heard it, he’d been naked. With Tanna.

He entered the main room and saw Tobin and Tanna on the couch, her bare feet in his lap and her head thrown back over the arm of the couch. He tried to keep his cool. But somehow he barked, “What is going on?”

Chapter Eight

Tanna looked at Fletch coolly. And pressed her foot against Tobin’s chest in warning when he tried to stand up. Too bad she couldn’t tell Tobin to wipe that guilty look off his face; they hadn’t been doing anything wrong.