you.”
“Don’t worry.” Chandler tried to reassure her with a gentle smile. “We’re used to putting in overtime.”
She leaned her head back against the pillow and drew in a long breath. “This is all my fault. I’ve been driving all day and haven’t taken a break since I passed through Flagstaff.”
“You’re trying to get to your destination tonight?” Chandler’s gaze roamed her face. He was an expert at gauging an animal’s accurate age, especially horses. But humans were a different matter. Especially women. If he had to guess Ms. DuBose’s age, the best he could narrow it down to was somewhere between twenty and twenty-five.
She had warm brown eyes that reminded him of toffee candy. Light brown hair fringed her forehead and waved gently to the tops of her shoulders. At the moment, her dusky pink lips were parted just enough to show the edges of very white teeth. Altogether, she was very lovely.
“I was only trying to reach Wickenburg tonight,” she answered. “I, uh, planned to stay a couple of days here before I traveled on to... California.”
She seemed hesitant about adding the last bit of information, but that was understandable, Chandler thought. He and Trey were total strangers to her.
“Good idea. You obviously need to rest.” He walked over to a row of cabinets and pulled a blood-pressure cuff from a drawer, then plucked a stethoscope from the pocket of a lab coat hanging from a hall tree. “Let me see how you’re ticking and then you might try to eat something.”
She pointed to the blood-pressure cuff. “That’s the kind you use on people. I must really be disoriented. I thought you said this was an animal clinic.”
“Don’t worry, miss,” Trey said. “Sometimes folks that bring in their animals keel over themselves. Doc takes care of them, too.”
Her expression skeptical, she said, “Oh. I guess it’s my good fortune I stopped here.”
“More like Trey’s good fortune,” Chandler said, as he once again squatted next to the couch and reached for Roslyn’s arm. “He likes rescuing damsels in distress.”
Trey’s face reddened. “Oh, Doc, that’s not so and you know it.”
Chandler wrapped the cuff around her slender arm and pumped it tight. She remained quiet as he noted the numbers, but he could feel her gaze wandering over his face.
He figured he looked like hell to her and smelled even worse. Long before daylight this morning he’d been called out on an emergency and hadn’t taken time to shave. Since then he’d waded through cow and horse manure, tromped through pigpens and bloodied his jeans and shirt while castrating several colts.
From the looks of Roslyn DuBose, he figured she was accustomed to seeing men in suits and ties and wingtips that never touched anything dirtier than a concrete sidewalk.
“Do I have a blood pressure, Dr. Hollister?” she asked with dry amusement.
Her soft voice pulled his attention back to her face. How would she look without the dark smudges of fatigue beneath her eyes and the tension at the corners of her mouth? Something or someone was definitely making her anxious.
“You do. Although it’s still a little low. The water should help that. Drink all you can.” He hung the stethoscope around his neck and started to rise, but at the last moment changed his mind. “Would you like for me to listen to the baby? Just to make sure he or she isn’t in distress?”
“Oh, yes. I’d be very grateful.
He positioned the stethoscope back in his ears and placed the round metal diaphragm against her belly. After listening intently at several different spots, he gave her a thumbs-up sign.
“Sounds like a healthy girl. Is that what it is?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I wanted to find out the gender the old-fashioned way. But I’ve been calling it a boy. Do you really think it’s a girl?”
“Well, my brothers say I’m an expert at predicting a foal’s gender. But that doesn’t mean you should go out and buy everything in pink.”
He walked back over to the cabinet to put away the blood-pressure cuff and stethoscope. “Trey, did you see anything in the fridge to eat? The girls usually leave their lunch leftovers.”
Trey said, “I think there’s a piece of fried chicken and one of those cartons of yogurt. That’s all.”
“That’s enough.” He glanced over his shoulder to see the woman had relaxed enough to close her eyes. Chandler motioned for Trey to follow him out of the room.
Out in the hallway, the two men made their way to a stockroom, where medical supplies were stored on shelves and in refrigerators.
As Chandler rummaged through one of the refrigerators for the food, Trey asked in a hushed voice, “What do you think about her?”
“She’s going to be okay. As far as I can tell, she’s suffering from dehydration and exhaustion.”
“No. I don’t mean medically. I mean, what is she doing here? In Wickenburg?”
Chandler shot him a droll look. “I wouldn’t know that any more than you. From what she says, she’s on her way to California. Frankly, it’s not our business.”
Trey lifted his straw hat from his head, then plopped it back down as though the action would help him think. “Well, she sure is pretty.”
“Yeah, she sure is.”
“Wonder where her husband is. The guy must be an idiot for letting her get on the road in that condition.”
“I’m not sure she has a husband.”
Trey eyes widened. “What makes you think that, Doc? Did you ask her?”
“No. I didn’t ask her. It’s just an assumption. She isn’t wearing a ring.”
“Maybe that’s because her hands are swollen and the ring is too tight. My sister’s hands stayed puffy when she was pregnant.”
“Trey, you’re watching too much TV. You’re getting the idea you’re a PI in a cowboy hat.”
“Oh, shoot, I’m just trying to figure her out,” Trey reasoned. “We don’t ever get anyone like her here at the clinic.”
Chandler placed the piece of chicken on a paper plate, then found a plastic spoon to go with the carton of yogurt. “I wouldn’t start setting my sights on her, Trey. She’ll be gone in a couple of days.”
Trey snorted. “Hell, I’m not going to be guilty of setting my sights on any woman. I can barely take care of myself. But she’s easy on the eyes. And I sorta feel bad for her. She seems kinda lost, don’t you think?”
Chandler let out a long breath. In the twelve years since he’d opened the clinic, Trey was the best assistant he’d ever had. But sometimes the man’s incessant chatter had Chandler longing for a piece of duct tape. However, this was one time Trey was voicing Chandler’s exact thoughts.
