Outlaw Hartes
Ellie grinned, picturing the old codger who had sold her the practice saying exactly that. Ben Nichols was a real character. They had formed an instant friendship the first time they met at a conference several years ago. It was that same bond that had prompted him to make all her dreams come true by offering her his practice at a bargain basement price when he decided to retire, to her shock and delight. He and his wife were now thoroughly enjoying retirement in Arizona.
“What’s Cleo in for?”
“Jeb didn’t know, precisely. The poor man ’bout had a panic attack right there when I tried to get him to specify on the paperwork. Blushed brighter than one of his tomatoes and said he thought it was some kind of female trouble.”
A homicidal goat with female trouble. And here she thought she was in for another slow morning. “Where’s Jeb?”
“He had to go into Afton to the hardware store. Said he’d be back later to pick her up.”
“In that case, let’s take care of the dog first since Mary Lou’s waiting,” she decided. She could save the worst for last.
It only took a few moments for her to diagnose that Sasha had a bad case of psoriasis. She gave Mary Lou a bottle of medicated shampoo she thought would do the trick, ordered her to wash his bedding frequently and scheduled a checkup in six months.
That done, she put on her coat and braved the cold, walking to the pens behind the clinic to deal with the cantankerous goat. Cleo looked docile enough. The brown-and-white goat was standing in one of the smaller pens gnawing the top rail on the fence.
Ellie stood near the fence and spoke softly to her for a moment, trying to earn the animal’s trust. Cleo turned and gave her what Ellie could swear was a look of sheer disdain out of big, long-fringed brown eyes, then turned back to the rail.
Slowly, cautiously, she entered the pen and approached the goat, still crooning softly to her. When she was still several feet away, she stopped for a cursory look. Although she would need to do a physical exam to be certain, she thought she could see the problem—one of Cleo’s udders looked engorged and red. She probably had mastitis.
Since Cleo wasn’t paying her any mind, Ellie inched closer. “You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?” she murmured. “Everybody’s wrong about you.” She reached a hand to touch the animal, but before her hand could connect, Cleo whirled like a bronco with a burr under her saddle. Ellie didn’t have time to move away before the goat butted her in the stomach with enough force to knock her on her rear end, right into a puddle of what she fervently hoped was water.
With a ma-aaa of amusement, the goat turned back to the fence rail.
“Didn’t anybody warn you about Cleo?” a deep male voice asked.
Just what she needed, a witness to her humiliation. From her ignominious position on the ground, she took a moment to force air into her lungs. When she could breathe again, she glanced toward the direction of the voice. Her gaze landed first on a pair of well-worn boots just outside the fence, then traveled up a mile-long length of blue jeans to a tooled silver buckle with the swirled insignia of the NCHA—National Cutting Horse Association.
She knew that buckle.
She’d seen it a day earlier on none other than the lean hips of her nemesis. Sure enough. Matt Harte stood there just on the other side of the pen—broad shoulders, blue eyes, wavy dark hair and all.
She closed her eyes tightly, wishing the mud would open up underneath her and suck her down. Of all the people in the world who might have been here to watch her get knocked to her butt, why did it have to be him?
Chapter 3
Matt let himself into the pen, careful to keep a safe distance between his own rear end and Jeb Thacker’s notoriously lousy-tempered goat, who had retreated to the other side of the pen.
“Here, let me help you.” He reached a hand down to the city vet, still sprawled in the mud.
“I can do it,” she muttered. Instead of taking his hand, she climbed gingerly to her feet by herself, then surreptitiously rubbed a hand against her seat.
Matt cleared his throat. “You okay?”
“I’ve had better mornings, but I’ll live.”
“You hit the ground pretty hard. You sure nothing’s busted?”
“I don’t think so. Just bruised. Especially my pride,” she said wryly. She paused for a minute, then smiled reluctantly. “I imagine it looked pretty funny watching me get tackled by a goat.”
She must not take herself too seriously if she could laugh about what had just happened. He found himself liking her for it. He gazed at her, at the way her red hair had slipped from its braid thingy and the little smudge of dirt on her cheek. Her eyes sparkled with laughter, and she was just about the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time.
When he said nothing, a blush spread over her cheeks and she reached a hand to tuck her stray hair back. “Did you need something, Mr. Harte?”
He was staring at her, he realized, like some hayseed who’d never seen a pretty girl before. He flushed, astounded at himself, at this completely unexpected surge of attraction. “You might as well call me Matt, especially since it looks like we’ll be working on this stupid school thing together.”
Her big green eyes that always made him think of new aspen leaves just uncurling in springtime widened even more. “You’re going to do it?”
“I said so, didn’t I?” he muttered.
She grinned. “And you sound so enthusiastic about it.”
“You want enthusiasm, you’ll have to find somebody else to help you.”
“What made you change your mind?”
He didn’t know how to answer that, and besides, it wasn’t any of her business. He said he’d do it, didn’t he? What more did she need? But somehow the sharp retort he started to make changed into something else.
“Miz McKenzie’s right,” he finally said. “Lucy’s done better in school this year than she ever has. She never would have wanted to organize something like this last year. I don’t want to ruin the improvement she’s made. Besides, she usually doesn’t ask for much. It’s a small price to pay if it’s going to make her happy.”
Ellie Webster cocked her head and looked at him like she’d just encountered a kind of animal she’d never seen before.
“What?” he asked, annoyed at himself for feeling so defensive.
“Nothing. You’re just full of surprises, Mr. Harte.”
“Matt,” he muttered. “I said you should call me Matt.”
“Matt.” She smiled suddenly, the most genuine smile she’d ever given him. He stared at it, at her, feeling like he’d just spent a few hours out in the hard sun without his hat.
“Is that why you stopped?” she asked. “To tell me you decided to help with the carnival?”
He shrugged and ordered his heartbeat to behave itself. “I had to drop by the post office next door anyway. I thought maybe if you had a second this morning, we could get a cup of coffee over at the diner and come up with a game plan. At least figure out where to start.”
Again, she looked surprised, but she nodded. “That’s a good idea. But if you’re just looking for coffee, SueAnn makes the best cup this side of the Rockies. We can talk in my office.”
“That would be fine. I’ve already had breakfast. You, ah, need to get cleaned up or anything?”
She glanced down at her muddy jeans, then at the goat with a grimace. “Can you wait ten minutes? Since I’m already muddy, I might as well take a look at Cleo now.”
He thought of the million-and-one things he had to do at the ranch after he ran to the parts store in Idaho Falls—the buyers he had coming in later in the afternoon, the three horses waiting for the farrier, the inevitable paperwork always confronting him.
He should just take a rain check, but for some reason that completely baffled him, he nodded. “Sure, I can wait.” His next question surprised him even more. “Need me to give you a hand?”
She smiled again, that sweet, friendly smile. “That would be great. I’m afraid Cleo isn’t too crazy about her visit to the vet.”
The next fifteen minutes were a real education. With his help, Ellie miraculously finessed the ornery goat into holding still long enough for an exam. She murmured soft words—nonsense, really—while her hands moved gently and carefully over the now docile goat.
“Okay, you can let go now,” she finally said. He obeyed, and the goat ambled away from them.
“What’s the verdict?” he asked.
She looked up from scribbling some notes on a chart. “Just as I suspected. Mastitis. She has a plugged milk duct. I’ll run a culture to be sure, but I think a round of antibiotics ought to take care of her.”
“Just like a cow, huh?”
“Just like. Same plumbing involved.”
“Cleo’s a hell of a lot uglier than any of my ladies.”
She grinned at him again. “Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, Harte. I imagine Jeb Thacker wouldn’t agree. Anyway, thanks for your help.”
She led the way inside the small building where she worked. While she went in the back to change her clothes, he shot the breeze with SueAnn, who went to high school with him and whose husband ran the local nursery in town.
In a surprisingly short time, Ellie returned wearing a pair of surgical scrubs. He figured she probably was supposed to look cool and professional in the scrubs, but instead they made her look not much older than one of Lucy’s friends on her way to a sleepover, especially with her auburn hair pulled back in that ponytail.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, sounding a little out of breath.
“No problem.”
SueAnn hopped up and poured a cup of coffee for Ellie. “Here you go, sugar.”
“Thanks. We’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“Take your time.”
Matt didn’t miss the not-so-subtle wink SueAnn sent the vet or the quick frown Ellie volleyed back. Before he could analyze the currents going on here, she walked into a cluttered office with books and papers everywhere. Dominating one wall was a window framing a beautiful view of the Salt River mountain range that gave the town its name. On the other was a big print of a horse—a Tennessee walker, if he wasn’t mistaken—running across a field of wildflowers, all grace and power and beauty.
“Thanks again for helping me with Cleo,” Ellie said as soon as he was seated.
“No problem. It was interesting to see you working on her.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Interesting in what way?”
He shrugged. “I kept waiting for you to pull out the needles or whatever it is you use for that stuff you do.”
“That stuff I do?”
There were suddenly as many icicles in her voice as he had hanging from his barn. “You know, that acupuncture stuff. You don’t do that all the time, then?”
Whatever friendliness might have been in her expression faded away, and she became guarded once more. “Just when the situation calls for it.”
“And this one didn’t?”
Her smile was paper-thin. “See that diploma on the wall? I’m a board-certified vet with several years’ experience in traditional veterinary medicine. The acupuncture stuff, as you call it, was just extra training to supplement my regular skills. I only use it as an alternative when some of the more orthodox treatments have failed or aren’t appropriate.”
“And when would that be?”
“A lecture on veterinary acupuncture is not the reason you stopped by, Mr. Harte.”
“I’m curious about what you do.”
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “Animals I treat most often are horses with performance problems, like short stepping or mysterious lameness. I’ve treated moon blindness successfully and also older horses with degenerative conditions like arthritis or joint disease. You’d be surprised at how effective acupuncture can be.”
He didn’t doubt that. He didn’t want to sound too skeptical, not when they were going to have to work together for the next few months, but he thought the whole thing was a bunch of hooey. Her California crowd might buy all this New Age crap, but folks in Wyoming looked at things like this a little differently.
For a minute, he thought about keeping his mouth shut and changing the subject, but she and her kid had been good for his daughter. He didn’t want to see her practice go under, since Lucy would just about wither away if Dylan moved.
He cleared his throat. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dr. Webster, but it seems to me you might be better off focusing on those more traditional things you were talking about and leave the rest of that, er, stuff back in California.”
She pursed her lips together tightly. “Thank you for the advice,” she said, in a tone that left him in no doubt of her real feelings. And they probably didn’t include gratitude.
He should have stopped right there, but something made him push the issue harder. “Look, it’s no secret around town that you’ve lost a lot of customers in the last few months to Steve Nichols, Ben’s nephew. Hell, I’ve been using him myself. A lot of people don’t understand why Ben sold his practice to you in the first place instead of to Steve. Anyway, I’m pretty sure you could lure some of those folks back if you didn’t focus so much on the acupuncture side of things in your ads and all.”
“I don’t tell you how to run your ranch,” she said quietly, folding her hands tightly on the desk. “So please don’t tell me how to operate my practice.”
He sat back in the chair, aware he sounded like an idiot. Bossy and arrogant, just like Cassie always accused him of being. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s none of my business what you do. Just thought you should know that out here we tend to prefer the things we know, the way we’ve always done things, the way they’ve been done for generations. Especially when it comes to our stock.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Sorry if I offended you.”
She shrugged. “You’re only saying to my face what I’m sure everyone else has been saying behind my back. I appreciate your frankness. Now can we talk about the carnival?”
“Uh, sure.” Who would have dreamed twenty-four hours ago that he would consider a Valentine’s Day carnival a safe topic of conversation?
“So I was thinking about calling it A Fair to Remember,” she said. “What do you think?”
He scratched his cheek, not quite sure where she was going with this.
“From the movie. You know, Deborah Kerr, Cary Grant. Empire State Building. The one Meg Ryan bawled about in Sleepless in Seattle.”
At his continued blank look, she shrugged. “Never mind. We can talk about it later. We have ten weeks to work out all the details.”
Ten weeks working closely with Ellie Webster, with her green eyes and her wisecracks and her shampoo that smelled like lemon pie. He knew damn well the idea shouldn’t appeal to him so much.
Chapter 4
“So we’re agreed then,” Ellie said fifteen minutes later. “Given our mutual lack of experience, we need to delegate as much as humanly possible. Our first step is to set up committees for booths, decorations, refreshments and publicity. Once we get some other willing victims, er, parents on board, we can go from there.”
Matt scratched the back of his neck. “I guess. You know as much about this as I do. I just hope we can pull this off without making complete fools of ourselves. Or having the whole thing go down in history as the worst carnival ever.”
He looked so completely uncomfortable at the task ahead of them that Ellie had to smile. He must love Lucy very much to be willing to put himself through it despite his obvious misgivings. Not many men she knew would be willing to take on such a project for their ten-year-old daughters, and she felt herself softening toward him even more.
“I can talk to Sarah this afternoon if you’d like and tell her we’ve both agreed to do it,” she said.
“I’d appreciate that. I’ve got to run over to Idaho Falls to pick up a part for the loader, and it might be late before I get back in.” He unkinked his considerable length from the low chair and rose, fingering his hat.
He was so tall she had to crane her neck to look into those startling blue eyes. Just how did the man manage to make her little office shrink to about the size of a rabbit hutch by his presence? The awareness simmering through her didn’t help matters one bit.
“Sure you’re not too busy to talk to Miz McKenzie?” he asked.
“I should be able to carve out a few moments,” she murmured dryly. Her appointment schedule for the rest of the day was woefully empty, as she was fairly certain he must realize.
Sure enough, he looked even more ill at ease. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Think about what I said before, would you? About folks around here being more comfortable with what they know. Your business might pick up if you keep that in mind. You never know.”
Any soft feelings she might have been harboring toward him fluttered away like migrating birds. Before she could snap at him again to mind his own business, he shoved his hat on his head and walked out of her office with that long, ground-swallowing stride.
She might be annoyed with him, but that couldn’t keep her from wandering out of her office to the reception area to watch through the window as he climbed into a shiny new pickup that probably cost as much as her entire practice.
He drove out of the parking lot with deliberate care, as she was sure he did everything.
She had a sudden wild desire to know if he would kiss a woman that way. Thoroughly. Studiously. Carefully exploring every single inch of her lips with that hard mouth until he memorized each curve, each hollow. Until her knees turned to jelly and her body ached with need….
“Dreamy, isn’t he?”
Ellie whirled and found SueAnn watching her, mouth twitching with amusement. She swallowed hard and fought the urge to press a hand to her suddenly trembling stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
SueAnn just laughed. “Right. Whatever you say. You want me to pick that tongue off the floor for you?”
She snapped said tongue firmly back into her mouth. “Don’t you have some work to do?”
“Oh, watching you go weak in the knees is much more fun.”
“Sorry to ruin your entertainment, but one of us does have some work waiting. If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”
“No problem. Looks like we’ll see plenty of Matt Harte between now and Valentine’s Day.”
That’s exactly what she was afraid of. She sighed and headed for her office. She had only been at her desk for a few moments when the cowbell on the door jangled suddenly. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see who came in, but she could watch SueAnn’s ready smile slide away and her expression chill by several degrees.
Curious as to who might have earned such a frosty glare from the woman who invented congeniality, Ellie rose and walked to the door of her office for a better look.
Steve Nichols, her main competition in town and the nephew of the vet who had sold her the practice, was just closing the door behind him.
She should have known. SueAnn had a good word to say about everybody in town except for Ben’s nephew. When it came to Steve, she was as intractable as Jeb Thacker’s goat.
Ellie couldn’t understand her animosity. From the day she arrived, Steve had gone out of his way to make her feel welcome in Salt River—treating her as a friend and respected colleague, not as a business rival who had bought his uncle’s practice out from under him.
“Steve.” She greeted him warmly to compensate for SueAnn’s noticeable lack of enthusiasm.
His mouth twisted into a smile underneath his bushy blond mustache, then he gestured toward the parking lot. “Was that Matt Harte I just saw driving out of here?”
For no earthly reason she could figure out, she felt a blush soak her cheeks. “Er, yes.”
“Is there a problem with one of his animals? Anything I should know about?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that.” She would have left it at that, but Steve continued to study her expectantly. Finally, she had to say something. “Our girls are in the same class and we’re working on a school project together,” she finally said. “We were just discussing some of the details.”
“Really? What kind of project?”
She didn’t understand this strange reluctance to divulge any information—maybe she was just embarrassed—but couldn’t bring herself to answer.
“They’re cochairs for the annual Valentine’s Day carnival.” SueAnn finally broke the silence, her voice clipped and her expression still cool.
His mouth sagged open, then a laugh gurgled out. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Matt Harte planning a school carnival? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me he’s opening up a beauty salon in town.”
Steve’s reaction matched her own when she had first heard about the carnival, so why did she feel so annoyed at him for it? And so protective of a bossy, arrogant rancher who couldn’t seem to keep his nose out of her business?
“He’s doing it for his daughter,” she said with a coolness to match SueAnn’s. “What’s so ridiculous about that?”
“It just doesn’t seem like his thing. Matt’s not exactly the PTA type, you know what I mean?”
She didn’t want to get into this with him, so she abruptly changed the subject. “Was there something you needed, Steve?”
He shrugged, letting the matter drop. “Do I need a reason to stop by and visit my favorite vet?”
Behind him, SueAnn made a rude noise that she quickly camouflaged behind a cough. Ellie didn’t need to phone a psychic hot line to read her mind. She was fairly sure SueAnn thought Steve’s favorite vet looked back at him in the mirror each morning.
The other woman opened her mouth to say something snide along those lines, Ellie imagined. She quickly gave her a warning glare. To her relief, after a moment SueAnn clamped her lips tightly shut.
“You don’t need a reason to visit, Steve. You know that.” Ellie spoke quickly to head off any more trouble. “You’re always welcome here. But surely you wouldn’t have dropped by during the middle of your busy time of day just to chat, right?”
He sent her that boyishly charming smile of his. “You caught me. Actually, I did have an ulterior motive for dropping by. I’m in a bit of a bind. I ran out of brucellosis vaccine this morning and I’m scheduled to inoculate the herd at Paul Blanchard’s ranch in an hour.”
Paul Blanchard! He was another of her regular clients, one of the few who had stayed with the clinic after she took over from Ben. Ellie’s heart sank. Another deserter. They were dropping like flies.
SueAnn sent her a speaking glance, but before she could answer, Steve went on. “I’ve ordered a rush job on more but it won’t be here until tomorrow. You wouldn’t happen to have a few doses to tide me over until the shipment arrives, would you?”
“You want me to loan you some of my brucellosis vaccine for Paul Blanchard’s stock?”
Steve seemed completely oblivious to the sheer audacity of asking a favor for an account he had just appropriated. He gave her a pleading smile. “If it’s not too much of a bother. You won’t need any before tomorrow, will you?”
She might have, if she had been the one treating Blanchard cattle. As it was, it looked as if she would have vaccine to spare. She ground her teeth in frustration. Her first instinct was to say no, absolutely not. He could find his own damn vaccine. But in her heart she knew it wasn’t really Steve’s fault her practice was struggling.
She also couldn’t blame him for setting up his own competing clinic after Ben unexpectedly sold this one to her. If their roles had been reversed and she’d been the one left out in the cold by a relative, she would have done exactly the same thing. And probably wouldn’t have treated the usurper with nearly the kindness Steve had shown her.
She forced a smile. “I’ll go check my supply.”
Trying hard not to mutter to herself, she pushed through the swinging doors that separated the front office and waiting room from the treatment area.