“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
