had been very limited.
But Russ rarely thought of Brooke anymore, or their ill-fated relationship. At least, he’d not thought of her until about a month ago when he’d spotted her in a restaurant in downtown Ruidoso. Once they’d divorced and she’d moved away, Russ hadn’t seen her in the area. But she had longtime friends here, so it wasn’t really a surprise to see her dining with old acquaintances. Especially since it had been during the Christmas holiday season. No, the surprise had been Brooke’s obvious pregnancy.
She’d never been willing to give him a child. But apparently the new man in her life had changed her mind about becoming a mother. And that idea had jolted him, had left him wondering just what his life and work were all about.
After parking his truck in the garage, he entered the house through a side door leading into the kitchen. Inside the warm room, he shrugged out of his heavy jacket and slung it over a chair. At the refrigerator, he pulled out a longneck beer and twisted off the cap.
He rarely consumed alcohol, especially not cold beer on a winter night. But right now he was feeling the need to blunt the image of Laurel’s face. Earlier this evening, when he’d told her he was closing the clinic, he felt he’d never seen such utter disappointment on anyone’s face. And that alone bothered the hell out of Russ.
He’d always been an independent person. He lived to suit himself and made his own decisions on what he thought best, not what someone else believed. For the past two years Quint Cantrell had been encouraging Russ to become the Chaparral’s resident vet. In fact, the ranch owner had vowed he wouldn’t fill the position until Russ was ready and certain he wanted to accept the job.
During that time, Russ had weighed the offer, asking himself if selling his clinic and moving to the Chaparral was the right thing for him to do. Working exclusively for the ranch would simplify his life and allow him to do the work he loved under much easier conditions. It would give him time in his life to do more than simply caring for animals from sunup to sundown, and falling exhausted into bed every night, only to get up and start all over again. He wanted time for a home and family. All those reasons had been weighing heavily on him, but he’d been reluctant to make changes. Until he’d seen his ex-wife pregnant. She’d clearly moved on, and it was time that he did, too.
He truly believed that selling the clinic and moving to the Chaparral was a step in the right direction for himself and for Laurel. In spite of what his devoted assistant thought, he had considered her in this move. After all, he wasn’t blind. He’d been watching her work herself to a weary stupor day after day, and this change in jobs would ease the load on her shoulders, too. But there simply hadn’t been any option of taking on more staff or a partner. Now he wanted that easier life for Laurel just as much as he wanted it for himself. Yet it was plain she wasn’t happy about any of this, and now he was beginning to wonder if he had the woman figured all wrong, or even worse, if he’d taken her for granted.
A loud meow at his feet drew Russ’s attention downward. A coal-black Tiffany with long hair and big green eyes was giving him a look of disgust.
“What do you want, Leo? You’ve got food in your bowl. Look right here.” Russ walked over to the automatic feeder and pointed to the mound of dry morsels. “And I’m not about to open a can of salmon for you tonight.”
The cat marched over to a nearby cabinet, sat back on his haunches and pawed at the handle. Russ cursed beneath his breath. The damn cat was spoiled and too smart for his own good. “Listen, you little black monster, you wouldn’t even be in this house if it wasn’t for Laurel. You’d be out on the streets begging—no, I take that back—you wouldn’t even be alive if she hadn’t picked you up from that cold alley. You would’ve died from distemper. Maybe you ought to be thinking how fortunate you are instead of demanding fish or liver every night.”
The cat shot him a bored look, then pawed at the door again. “You ungrateful feline,” Russ muttered at him. “Maybe when I move to the ranch I’ll just leave you behind. What do think about that?”
Even as he made the threat to Leo, he knew that no matter where he lived, the cat would always have a home with him. A year ago Laurel had arrived at work early one morning, carrying in a limp ball of black fur, its eyes and nose covered with dried infection and so weak he could barely make a faint meowing noise. His lungs were in distress, plus he was dehydrated and starved. Russ didn’t think the animal had much chance of surviving, but Laurel had begged him to try. They’d hooked him up on an IV, shot him full of antibiotics and made sure he was warm. After that there hadn’t been much left to do except wait and pray.
After two days, and a great deal of Laurel’s nursing, the cat began to improve. Eventually he recovered enough to be adopted out, and Russ had expected Laurel to be the first one to offer the feline a home. After all, she seemed crazy about the animal and she already had two dogs and three other cats. One more mouth to feed wouldn’t make that much difference. But she’d stunned him by suggesting that Russ take Leo home with him.
At first he’d laughed and scoffed at the idea. Russ didn’t have pets. He dealt with enough animals throughout the day to go home and contend with another at night. But she’d continued to hound him by arguing that Russ needed the cat and the cat needed Russ.
He didn’t know why he’d given in to her and brought the cat home. Most of the time he and Leo merely tolerated each other, but he had to admit there were times, like tonight, when Russ was glad the house wasn’t empty and there was someone here who actually needed him.
“All right, so I’m bluffing and you know it,” he muttered to Leo. “But you’re still not getting salmon. Just a few treats, that’s all. You’re getting too fat.”
He doled out a few moist morsels to the cat, then fetched his beer from the table and carried it into the den. A television sat in one corner of the long, comfortably furnished room, but he didn’t bother switching it on. The only thing he ever watched was the news and weather, and even that didn’t interest him tonight.
Monday morning. I’ll give you my answer then.
Laurel’s promise continued to haunt and shock him. All along, he’d thought she wouldn’t hesitate to follow him to his new job. Now he wasn’t so sure. What would he do if Laurel told him she didn’t want to accept the job at the Chaparral? Find another assistant to replace her?
Hell. He couldn’t replace Laurel. He knew that and he figured she knew it, too. No one else would put up with his moods and demands the way she did. No one else would devote herself to his work the way she did. And lastly, no one else at his side would feel right.
He was staring thoughtfully into the quiet shadows when Leo suddenly jumped into his lap and stared expectantly up at him.
“I don’t know, boy. Maybe I’ve made a mistake.” He placed the beer aside and stroked a hand down Leo’s arched back. “But you proved me wrong when you survived. If I’m lucky, Laurel will prove me wrong and take the job. If she refuses my offer—well, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Leo meowed as though he understood, and Russ groaned.
After the hell Brooke had put him through, he’d never dreamed he’d allow his peace of mind to hinge on another woman. But here he was, agonizing over what Laurel might or might not do.
Had he lost his mind? Or was he just beginning to realize exactly what his assistant had come to mean to him?
He was afraid to answer that.
Chapter Two
