can visualize an ex-Marine as a matchmaker.”
“Frankly, I think he and Jess were just trying to get me riled, but I can only hope for the best.”
At the sound of a pitiful bark from her truck she glanced over her shoulder, then continued toward the barn.
But when the dog howled with fear, that stopped her in her tracks. “I’m sorry. That’s Lucy. Do you have any dogs loose around here?”
“Nope.”
“Do you mind if I let her out of my truck?”
“Go right ahead. She sounds pretty desperate.”
Sara went back and lifted the dog down from the seat. Once on the ground, she shivered against Sara’s leg.
“Looks like your dog is gonna be a momma, and soon.”
“Within a few days, I suspect.”
He gave the dog a closer look, then raised his gaze to Sara’s and lifted an eyebrow. “Except for that belly, she looks awfully thin.”
“I saw her cowering in a snow-filled ditch a few miles down the road. I stopped at the house to ask about her, and the guy said he ‘wanted to get rid of her,’ because she’s pregnant.” Sara said a quick, silent prayer of thanks, grateful that she hadn’t driven past without noticing. “Pathetic as this is, she spent her life on a heavy log chain with a ramshackle doghouse, but he’d let her loose, quit feeding her and tried to chase her off so she’d move on. Can you imagine? Some people shouldn’t be responsible for any living thing.”
“I’ll agree with you there. At the least, he should have spayed her.”
“From the looks of the house I don’t think he could afford it, and this county doesn’t have a free spay clinic, either.” Another one of her goals, she reflected. “At least not yet.”
“Are there any animal shelters?”
“Not in this county. The closest is a two-hour drive.”
“Some people cast off a dog like trash. But for that dog, home is their whole world—the one family they’ll love for their short lifetime, if they’re lucky. Heartless people like her owner make me sick.”
Tate was watching her intently now, his eyes fixed on hers. She took a slow, deep breath to calm down the anger in her voice. “Sorry, I get a little intense when it comes to animal welfare.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. It’s your job.”
“And my passion.” She leaned down to ruffle the fur at the dog’s neck. “I’m just so sorry that I can’t keep her myself.”
“Why not?”
“I’m living in a small cabin, and don’t have enough space, or enough time at home to care for her. And the…um…current population there wouldn’t exactly be good company for a new mom and her litter of puppies.”
“Population?”
She felt her cheeks warm. Most people might think she was crazy, but she hadn’t been able to say no to a number of abandoned animals since returning to Pine Bend. If she gave in one more time she might end up sleeping in her truck. “I just wish I had a bigger place.”
The dog waddled into the barn behind her and Tate followed, closing the door after them. He strode to a stall halfway down the aisle and brought out the injured colt.
The gelding tossed his head and did a little sideways jog as if wanting to take off running. “He’s pretty impatient to be outside, as you can see.”
After Tate cross-tied him, Sara knelt at his side and removed the layers of leg wrap and cotton batting.
“The wounds look good,” she said, inspecting them closely. “With just the expected minimal seepage of serous—that’s clear—fluid but no evidence of swelling or infection.”
After pulling clean materials from her satchel she rebandaged the leg, then gave the gelding another injection of long-acting antibiotics.
“He shouldn’t be out in the pasture until the bandages are off and he’s fully healed. I’d rather he wasn’t free to run and buck just yet. But he could go on a hot-walker if you’ve got one, or you could pony him around the arena while riding another horse.”
“That’s what I figured.” Tate led the colt back to his stall, took off the halter and came back out to the aisle. “No rush, that’s for sure. This is one of the Langford horses that we’ll—er, Jess—will put in our production sale next year. Well-broke ranch horses are worth quite a lot these days.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Sara picked up her satchel. “Is there anything else while I’m here?”
He looked up at a calico barn cat glaring down at them from the rafters. “Jess says the barn cats need rabies vaccinations and whatever other vaccines they ought to have. But I don’t expect I can catch them all in a hurry, either.”
As if the cat knew she was in danger, she disappeared.
“Are you feeding them cat food or are they just mousers?”
“Both, now. They looked sleek and fat when I got here, but I give them some dry cat food in the tack room anyway, in case they have a bad mouse day. There’s three of them, and they come running at kittykittykitty in the morning.”
She gave him an assessing look. He might be from a wealthy ranching family: the son of the infamously cold and calculating Gus Langford. But from what the younger vet tech in the clinic said, with a good dose of hero worship in her eyes, he’d had a stellar rodeo career with many a championship.
And he still had a soft heart.
“Good. I want to see the colt one last time, in two weeks. Withhold the cat food the day before so they’ll be even more eager, then close them in the tack room for me and we can take care of them then.”
She whistled to the dog and patted her thigh, signaling for the animal to follow her out to her truck. But the stray looked between her and Tate, then slunk over to him, draped herself over the toes of his boots and looked up at him with pure longing.
“Wait.” He looked down into Lucy’s pleading eyes and felt his heart melt. “About this dog. What’s going to happen to her? She won’t be put down, will she?”
Sara drew in a sharp breath, shocked at his words. “Of course not. I’ll…I’ll need to keep her at the clinic while I try to find her a good home.”
“Which won’t be easy.”
“Not for a pregnant dog, no,” Sara admitted. She caught the compassionate look in his eyes and hid a smile. She already knew where this was heading and it gave her a tentative sense of relief.
“Of course, the clinic isn’t ideal for her,” she added somberly. “With all of the stress of the other dogs barking at every sound and strangers around her all day. Poor thing. Not good for the puppies, either.”
“Maybe
