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Falling For The Rancher
Roxanne Rustand
The Cowboy’s New FamilyAll veterinarian Darcy Leighton wants is a good life for her daughter. But when the vet practice she hopes to inherit is bought out from under her by newcomer Logan Maxwell, she stands to lose her position completely. Recovering from a bad breakup, the handsome cowboy wants a fresh start—one that doesn’t include working with a woman he’s undeniably attracted to. No stranger to heartbreak, Darcy has reservations of her own, but she can’t walk away from this job. She’ll just have to convince Logan to take a chance on her…and believe that what they have together is strong enough to last.


The Cowboy’s New Family
All veterinarian Darcy Leighton wants is a good life for her daughter. But when the vet practice she hopes to inherit is bought out from under her by newcomer Logan Maxwell, she stands to lose her position completely. Recovering from a bad breakup, the handsome cowboy wants a fresh start—one that doesn’t include working with a woman he’s undeniably attracted to. No stranger to heartbreak, Darcy has reservations of her own, but she can’t walk away from this job. She’ll just have to convince Logan to take a chance on her…and believe that what they have together is strong enough to last.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to sell her.”
Logan chuckled. “Charlie and Duster will never be sold.”
“How about if I throw in my house? My car? Oh, wait. It doesn’t run. Just the house, then. I don’t have much else of value.”
“Sorry. Not even your house.” Laughing, he brushed an errant strand of hair away from Darcy’s face. “But you and Emma are welcome to come out anytime to ride them.”
“Tomorrow! Can we come tomorrow?” Emma begged. “Please?”
“Probably not, sweetie. But maybe another time.”
Emma didn’t speak a word on the way home and trudged silently from Logan’s truck to the front door.
“Looks like we’re going to have a quiet evening,” Darcy said as she watched Emma go to the house. “Thanks so much for the wonderful day.”
She impulsively gave him a quick hug and stepped back, suddenly feeling a little flustered and awkward at unexpectedly crossing that invisible line between friends and something more.
Yet how could she regret something that felt so right?
Dear Reader (#ubec16442-5493-5349-889b-d4716c13d638),
Thank you so much for joining me in Aspen Creek once again! I’ve loved writing about this small town set in the beautiful river bluff country of western Wisconsin.
This book in the Aspen Creek Crossroads series was great fun to write, because I love small towns, country life and animals. My husband and I live in just such a place—an acreage out in the country with our three horses, two beloved dogs we adopted from an animal shelter, and five exceptionally friendly cats who like to wind around my ankles when I head down to the barn to do horse chores.
I love to hear from readers and can be contacted by snailmail at PO Box 2550, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 52401, or online at www.roxannerustand.com (http://www.roxannerustand.com), www.facebook.com/Roxanne.Rustand (http://www.facebook.com/Roxanne.Rustand), www.SweetRomanceReads.com (http://www.SweetRomanceReads.com), and www.pinterest.com/roxannerustand (https://www.pinterest.com/roxannerustand).
Wishing you abundant blessings,


A USA TODAY bestselling and award-winning author of over thirty-five novels, ROXANNE RUSTAND lives in the country with her husband and a menagerie of pets, including three horses, rescue dogs and cats. She has a master’s in nutrition and is a clinical dietitian. RT Book Reviews nominated her for a Career Achievement Award, two of her books won their annual Reviewers’ Choice Award and two others were nominees.
Falling for the Rancher
Roxanne Rustand


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
—1 Corinthians 13:4–8
With many thanks to my husband
and our children, for their unfailing support, and also to the wonderful editors at Love Inspired who make this all possible.
Contents
Cover (#ufc56661d-a69a-52ec-b9e2-71e2ae40adab)
Back Cover Text (#u69032d79-db24-5f03-9bc1-4daa793b2f1e)
Introduction (#u88fed7a5-72c1-53cc-ae75-848c9df23d7f)
Dear Reader (#u7a6dd512-f470-56b0-93a6-9f9873fc91bb)
About the Author (#u555c54c9-ead4-551b-a540-d537bb8bde07)
Title Page (#ue795498d-a5ed-506a-b02c-594f9dd981b9)
Bible Verse (#u8a9da5b7-9716-50f4-8d5a-73dcabf7469e)
Dedication (#ufb37fd52-6ed0-5a74-98d4-ef1ef91670db)
Chapter One (#udd0d8541-0513-5910-958c-c02e874c1a1a)
Chapter Two (#ua7fcd43f-8992-50b7-a1be-739c146f22fc)
Chapter Three (#ubf6085b3-5d7b-5f41-baae-0832b8080f6d)
Chapter Four (#u4b8aa107-8e4f-5a7f-b9a0-8f0e8b416939)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ubec16442-5493-5349-889b-d4716c13d638)
After working at the Aspen Creek Veterinary Clinic for the past thirteen months, Dr. Darcy Leighton had encountered a lot of interesting situations. But walking into the clinic on Friday morning to find a tall, dark and muscular cowboy rifling through the file cabinets was certainly a surprise.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone had broken in, searching for drugs or money, but this guy looked like he’d never touched an illicit drug in his life. Why on earth was he here, and how had he disabled the new burglar alarm? She and the other staff had inadvertently set it off more times than she could count, to the point that now someone from the alarm company just called her cell to ask if they’d tripped it again.
But there’d been no such call on her cell phone today.
The intruder had tossed an ivory Resistol hat on the desk, and from his pewter fleece vest and long-sleeve shirt to his well-worn jeans and ostrich Western boots, he appeared more suited to a ranch out West than this little resort town in Wisconsin. Not at all like the jittery, tattoo-covered thief she’d inadvertently confronted late one night while returning to check on a surgery case.
“Excuse me,” she said sharply, pulling her cell phone from a jacket pocket. She took a single cautious step back and pressed the speed dial numeral for 911. “I think you’d better leave right now, mister. The sheriff will be here any second.”
He shot a brief glance at her over his shoulder, then frowned and gave her a much longer second look. With a dismissive shake of his head, he turned back to the files and continued thumbing through them. “Explaining this filing system would be useful. Are you the receptionist?”
Receptionist? Three months ago, the attorney handling Dr. Boyd’s estate had sent out a team of accountants who had pored over every last document and computer file for days, then recorded an inventory down to the last paperclip. But this guy sure wasn’t wearing a suit and shiny loafers.
“No, I’m not. How did you get in here?”
“A key and the alarm code.” He shoved the drawer shut and turned to face her with a sigh. “I’m serious about this filing. Someone here has just a passing acquaintance with the alphabet.”
Her gaze landed on the discreet veterinary caduceus logo on the front of his vest. Realization dawned as she stared at a man who had the potential to ruin completely the future she’d so carefully planned. “So...y-you are...”
“The new owner as of last week.” He reached forward to shake her hand. “Logan Maxwell.”
Still wary, she held back. “We haven’t been notified of any sale. Surely the attorney would have let us know.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. The firm doesn’t seem all that competent.” He snagged his billfold from his back jeans pocket, withdrew a business card and tossed it on the receptionist’s desk. “Call them.”
She swallowed back the knot rising in her throat as she eyed the familiar card with the scales of justice symbol in the center and flowing script, but she went ahead and made the brief call to the attorneys’ office anyway. Sure enough, this guy was the new owner. Logan Maxwell, DVM.
The news made her heart sink.
She’d been praying that the practice wouldn’t sell until she’d saved enough for a solid down payment and finally found a bank that would grant her a long-term loan. She’d also been praying that if that didn’t happen in time, the new owner would want to continue business as usual with her on board.
Maybe a younger version of Dr. Boyd, rest his soul.
Not over six feet of toned cowboy with thick, dark lashes shading startling blue eyes, and a grim, suspicious expression on his way-too-handsome face. What was with that narrow-eyed, penetrating stare, anyway?
He was the one who’d looked like he might be robbing the clinic when she first walked in, while she’d just been coming in to continue working in the career she loved.
She bit back the wave of disappointment settling in her chest with the weight of an anvil as she called to cancel the 911 request. “I’m Darcy Leighton. Dr. Boyd started slowing down, and he needed an associate vet to keep the clinic running.”
“So I heard.”
She managed a faint rueful smile. “He’d promised to let me start buying into the practice after I’d been here for a year.”
He directed a level look at her. “But according to the attorneys, no contract was ever signed, and no money was paid.”
The anvil pressing down on her heart grew heavier, obliterating her long-held dreams. It took her a moment to respond. “Correct. He died six months after I started, but the attorneys wanted the practice kept running until it could be sold, to maintain its value. So we’re all still here.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Do the other employees come in by seven thirty?”
Darcy nodded.
He tipped his head toward the hallway leading from the waiting room to the lab, two exam rooms, the surgery room and two offices. “Instead of standing here, let’s go back to Boyd’s office. We have a few things to discuss.”
He stepped aside and followed her to the back office, where she hesitated for a split second before dropping into one of the leather club chairs facing the massive old mahogany desk. He settled behind the desk as if it had been his for decades, and she felt a flare of sorrow.
“It doesn’t seem right, seeing someone else in his chair. Doc was an institution here in town for more years than anyone can remember.”
“And probably well loved, though from what I see in this clinic, he was behind the times.”
“He was a good vet,” she shot back, defending her old boss though she knew Maxwell was right. “Even if...some of the equipment here is out of date.”
The man had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Show me something that isn’t. The list is staggering, but I knew that before buying the place.”
She looked at him in surprise. “When were you here?”
“Over a month ago, on a Sunday. I flew in from Montana, and two of the attorneys from Madison met me here. Then I went back to their office and spent a couple days going through the clinic’s old financial records.”
That explained why she hadn’t seen him, then. He’d chosen to delve into the situation when the clinic was closed. “So you’ve seen that, despite a lack of the latest technology, this practice is busy.”
“I hope it continues to be. The horse population in this county is growing rapidly, and there’s a real need for an equine practice around here.”
“Just equine?” she asked faintly. “What about our small-animal clients?”
A brief grin lifted a corner of his mouth, and she felt momentarily dazzled by the flash of a deep, slashing dimple in his left cheek. If he ever offered a genuine smile, the clinic’s circuits just might blow.
“That’s all I do, ma’am. Horses.”
“Then that’s perfect,” she exclaimed with a rush of relief. “If you want to focus on horses, I can handle everything else. You’ve already got an excellent vet tech and receptionist in place.”
His gaze veered to the wall of bookshelves. “Actually,” he said carefully, as if walking cautiously through a minefield, “I want to have a fresh start. So—”
At a sharp, indrawn breath, he and Darcy looked at the open doorway, where Kaycee, the vet tech, now stood with a hand at her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. Marilyn, the office manager, stood behind her, her face pale with obvious shock.
“You’re already firing us—without even giving us a chance?” Kaycee’s voice trembled with outrage. “Is that fair?”
“I didn’t say that,” he said mildly.
“Y-you have no idea how hard we work or how dedicated we are,” she retorted. “Doc Boyd always said—”
“Kaycee,” Darcy said quietly, though she knew how much the girl needed her job. At just twenty-three, she was supporting her younger brother and sister, while Marilyn had a disabled husband at home.
Knowing their difficult situations, Dr. Boyd had given both of them generous annual raises. There wasn’t another job in town that would pay either of them as much for their specialized skills. This practice was the only one for forty miles.
But starting an argument on the new owner’s first day wouldn’t help anyone’s cause.
Darcy looked up at Marilyn. “Are my first clients here?”
The receptionist nodded stiffly.
“Then please get them settled in the exam rooms, Kaycee. I’ll be out in a minute.” Darcy stood to shut the office door quietly and turned back to the desk with a frown. “They’re excellent employees. I can promise you that. I’ve worked with them for a year. They’re both highly professional.”
He drummed his long, tanned fingers on the desk. “As I started to say, I feel it’s important to have a fresh start here. This is going to be an equine clinic in the future, with far less—if any—small-animal. So I have to assess the kind of staff I really need. And honestly...”
His voice trailed off as he seemed to consider his words, but at the regret and sympathy in his eyes, Darcy suddenly knew exactly what he was going to say. This wasn’t just about Marilyn and Kaycee. It was also about her. And given the muscle ticking along the side of his jaw, those changes weren’t going to be in the distant future.
What was he going to do—boot her out the door right now? Would he be that callous?
After all she and her little girl had been through during the past two years, she’d thought they were finally secure in their new lives here in Aspen Creek.
Even two weeks’ notice wouldn’t be enough to get her finances and her future in order. What if she needed to leave town to find employment? How would Emma handle yet another wrenching change?
Blindsided, Darcy felt her heart falter as her thoughts raced through a dozen possibilities. “Even if you’re developing an equine practice, you’ll find the small-animal side busy and well worth keeping.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not part of my plan,” he said gently.
Time. She needed much more time, and it didn’t sound like she was going to get it.
“But it’s still going to take a while for you to get up to speed and build up a different clientele, and in the meantime, it sure couldn’t hurt to enjoy a solid income.” She said a silent prayer and took a steadying breath as she considered just how far she could push him.
“I’ll stay on for just the next two months,” she continued firmly. “So you can get your feet on the ground here. I’ll take care of the clinic appointments while you get settled in and start your horse practice, and then we can reassess. If you realize it’s worth keeping the small-animal side going, we can discuss my salary and contract. If not, no hard feelings. I’ll just start my own large and small-animal mixed practice here in town. A little competition never hurt anyone, right?”
He stared at her reluctantly for a long moment, then laughed—probably at her sheer audacity—and accepted her handshake. “I guess we have a deal.”
* * *
A few hours later, Logan settled into a booth at a cafe at the far end of town and sighed heavily. His goal had been simple and should have been easily met, but his first morning at the clinic certainly hadn’t gone as well as he’d planned.
Finding the right veterinary practice to buy had occupied his thoughts for months. Finding one within a reasonable distance to horse breeding farms and also the active horse show circuits in Wisconsin and Minnesota had been high on his list.
The Aspen Creek Vet Clinic and associated property had ticked every box. It had once been a mixed practice, so it included a good clinic building with a corral and small stable out back, which made it perfect for conversion into an equine practice. And a few miles out in the country, Dr. Boyd’s house sat on twenty fenced acres with another stable. The house and all of the buildings needed updating, but at least he hadn’t needed to hunt for a place to live.
The fact that this little Wisconsin town was far from Montana made it even better.
But all of those thoughts about the property and his future here had instantly fled the moment he’d come face-to-face with Darcy Leighton this morning. Warning bells had clanged in his head. His jaw had almost dropped to the floor. He’d had to force himself to stand his ground.
Curvy, with brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes, she could easily have been the much prettier sister of his former fiancée back in Montana, though for just a moment he’d imagined he was staring into Cathy’s deceitful eyes and his stomach had plummeted.
His business plan aside, seeing Darcy on a day-to-day basis would be an intolerable reminder of the past. A time when a pretty face and calculated charm had blinded him to clues so obvious that in retrospect he could not believe his stupidity. Two months. He could manage two months. Maybe.
Why hadn’t he just said no, offered Darcy a nice severance bonus and sent her on her way? And what on earth was that rush of sensation when he’d accepted her handshake? He’d felt his arm tingle and his blood warm, and when his eyes locked on hers he couldn’t look away.
It was only when she’d smiled a little and stepped back that he realized he’d held her hand a little too long.
He certainly hadn’t felt this instant connection with Cathy...which made those warning bells clang all over again. He could not afford a second mistake.
He ordered a cheeseburger and Coke when the waitress—Marge, given the name embroidered on her uniform—stopped by his booth. Then he pensively stared out the large plate glass window overlooking Aspen Creek’s Main Street.
For a chilly Monday morning in mid-April, there was a surprising amount of activity in town. Most of the parking spaces were filled. Pedestrians were window-shopping as they passed the various boutiques and upscale shops probably meant to lure tourists from Minneapolis-St. Paul and Chicago.
Farther down the street, he’d spied some high-end outfitters displaying kayaks, canoes and pricey backpacks in their windows. A quaint two-story bookstore. Cozy-looking tea shops. Bed-and-breakfast signs in front of grand old Victorians.
The town hardly looked like it could be in horse country, but his research had proved otherwise, and so he had started making his plans. Remodeling. Equipment purchases. Supplies. Promotion, to let horse owners know about him.
Under Dr. Boyd’s ownership the clinic had been focused on small animals, so he’d figured he would let the current staff go and then hire people with the equine expertise he needed. People he would carefully interview, and then he’d follow up with background checks on. Thorough background checks.
He felt a shudder work down his spine, wishing with every beat of his heart that there’d been more careful scrutiny of staff at the multi-vet clinic where he’d worked back in Montana. But that was over, done with, and now he had a chance to start his own clinic and do things right.
The waitress returned, gave him a narrow look and set his Coke down with a thud. A few drops splattered onto the table, but she wheeled around for the kitchen without a second look.
Curious, he watched her go and realized that every eye in the place was fixed on him. None of them looked friendly. Feeling as if he’d slipped into some sort of time warp, he eyed the Coke but didn’t try it.
A stooped, gray-haired man in a bright plaid shirt, khakis and purple tennis shoes appeared next to his booth. “I figure you must be the new vet,” he muttered. He leaned closer to peer at the veterinary emblem on Logan’s vest. “Yep. Figured so. Lucky man, buying Doc Boyd’s place. He was the best. Best gals working for him, too. Couldn’t find any better. You can count your blessings, sonny.”
He stalked away, muttering under his breath.
Three elderly women seated at a round table a dozen feet away craned their necks to watch the old guy leave. As one, their heads swiveled toward Logan. If glares could kill, he’d have been turning cold on the floor. Still, he nodded and smiled back at them. “Ladies.”
The oldest one harrumphed and turned away. The one with short silver hair fixed him with her beady eyes. “Paul is right. Everyone loved Dr. Boyd, you know. He wouldn’t ever have treated his staff badly.”
“People care about each other in a small town.” The third woman lifted her chin with a haughty sniff.
He politely tipped his head in acknowledgment, then startled a bit when a thirtysomething woman slipped into his booth and propped her folded hands on the table.
Judging from the blinding sparkles on her wedding ring, she surely hadn’t stopped by to flirt, and given the decidedly unfriendly mood in the café, he hoped she didn’t plan to whack him with her heavy leather purse.
“Beth Stone. I own the bookstore in town,” she said briskly. “It looked like you might need a bodyguard, so I figured I’d stop by for a minute. Thought I might need to warn you.”
He glanced at the other customers in the café, who were all pushing eighty if they were a day. “I think I can handle them. At least, so far.”
Her long chestnut hair swung against her cheek as she slowly shook her head. “Your business affairs are your own, of course. I don’t mean to pry, and whatever you decide to do is totally up to you. But as you can see, word spreads fast in a small town. Gossip is a bad thing, but people really do care about each other here, just as Mabel told you. No one wants to see a friend hurt.”
Clearly eavesdropping from her seat at the round table, Mabel gave him a smug smile.
“I just wanted to offer a little friendly advice,” Beth continued. “If you can, take things a bit slow. Settle in. Get to know people. And if you’re going to fire everyone at the vet clinic right off the bat—”
“I haven’t,” Logan said quietly. Yet.
“But that’s the word on the street, as they say. Not because your employees are blasting the news all over town,” Beth added quickly. “There might have been...uh...a client who overheard something while in the waiting room...who happened to stop here at the café, where no secret is ever kept. Ever.”
The waitress scuttled up to the booth and delivered his hamburger, then fled back to the kitchen. “Sounds like my hometown in Montana,” Logan said.
“Businesses have failed here over far less, and you don’t want to drive every last client to some other vet practice in the next town. Just be prepared.”
“Thanks.”
“People care about each other here. And they are as friendly as can be.”
He eyed the other customers in the café, who definitely didn’t appear friendly at all. “I’ll have to take your word on that.”
“I promise you, this really is a wonderful town. There are all sorts of seasonal celebrations that draw crowds of tourists. And I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t have at least one pet, so you’ll be plenty busy.” She gathered her purse and stood. “And I know you’ll really like the staff at the clinic when you get to know them. I’ve been taking our pets there all of my adult life, and they provide excellent care.”
“Good to hear.” He poked at his hamburger, which appeared to be very well done, and cold to boot.
“Dr. Leighton in particular—did you know she completed some sort of special residency after vet school? I don’t recall, exactly. Surgery, maybe. Or was it medicine? I know that she received some pretty big honors. There was an article on her in the local newspaper when she first came to town. Dr. Boyd was really thrilled when he was able to hire her.”
So here was yet another pitch, though delivered more skillfully than most. “I’ll be sure to ask her about it.”
Beth nodded with satisfaction. “I’ve got to get back to my store, but it’s been nice to meet you. God bless.”
He waited until she left, then cautiously lifted the top bun on the burger. Though nothing unexpected appeared inside, the patty was charred to the point of being inedible—yet another message from the good people of Aspen Creek.
So maybe it was for the best that Darcy had railroaded him into keeping her on for a few months, he realized with chagrin.
He could now become acquainted around town, try to avoid alienating any more of the residents and thus improve the chances that his vet practice would succeed. With a new clinic website, a Facebook page and announcements in the regional horse magazines, word would spread, and maybe he could start his life over again, away from the shadow of his past.
All he needed was time.
Chapter Two (#ubec16442-5493-5349-889b-d4716c13d638)
After the Easter service at the Aspen Creek Community Church, Darcy drove up the long lane winding through a heavy pine forest to Dr. Boyd’s house, knowing this was probably a big mistake.
Logan certainly hadn’t been friendly when he’d first arrived at the clinic on Friday. He’d been gruff and completely lacking in empathy toward her and the clinic staff. He was clearly looking forward to firing them all.
And he probably wouldn’t accept her invitation anyway. So why had she even bothered to come?
Because, she muttered under her breath, she should treat him as kindly as she would any other newcomer, even if she had yet to find anything likable about him whatsoever.
“What, Mommy?” Emma chirped from her new booster seat in back.
“Just talking to myself, sweetie.” Darcy’s mood brightened. Maybe Logan had a wife and kids, and they were all celebrating Easter by themselves, though something about him made her guess that he was probably alone. That would be no surprise, if he was cold to everyone.
She looked up at Emma in the rearview mirror. “I’m guessing that Dr. Maxwell might not want to join us for dinner, but we’ll see.”
Emma sat up a little straighter to look around and squealed with delight at her surroundings as the house and barn came into view. “Will Barney be here?”
I wish. I wish everything was still the same—that the old sheepdog would come romping out of the barn to meet us, and that Dr. Boyd would be here, too.
He’d been more than a mentor during the seven months she’d worked with him. He’d been kind and perceptive and caring, like the grandfathers she’d never known but had pictured. He’d helped her get through the bleakest time of her life.
But now he was gone, and nothing would ever be the same again.
“Barney lives with Marilyn now, sweetie. Remember? And Dr. Boyd is up in heaven.”
“Can we go see Barney?” Emma asked somberly.
“Of course we can. Maybe tomorrow.” Darcy pulled to a stop in front of the sprawling, rustic log home with river rock pillars and rock siding at the front porch. Set in the shade of towering pines, the house blended into its surroundings and matched the hip-roofed barn and wood-fenced corrals.
It had been the home of her dreams, but the house and clinic had been far beyond her financial reach.
A gleaming black crew cab Dodge pickup with Montana plates was parked in front of the garage, so apparently Logan was home. She stepped out of her SUV, smoothed her peach linen skirt and helped Emma out of her booster seat.
Twisting a strand of her blond hair around her finger, the four-year-old frowned and looked around. “Will there be Easter baskets here?”
“At home,” Darcy promised. She bent down to fluff the layers of pink ruffles cascading from the waist of her daughter’s dress. “We won’t be here long.”
A spiral-sliced ham was waiting in the oven back at the cottage, and creamy mashed potatoes were staying warm in a Crock-Pot. Several colorful salads were finished and in the fridge. But the day seemed strange again this year, with just the two of them to celebrate the joy of Easter.
It had to be different for Logan, as well, assuming he had observed the usual Easter traditions back in Montana. Then again, was he even a believer? Beyond the fact that he’d arrived intending to fire her, she knew nothing about him.
At the sound of hammering out past the barn, she took Emma’s hand and headed that way, taking in the contrast of the many new boards that now replaced the broken ones.
As they rounded the barn, he came into view. He eyed the three-plank oak fence line stretching toward the heavy timber to the west. Tapped a top board upward into perfect alignment and nailed it in place.
“Hello there,” Darcy called out. “Happy Easter.”
He spun around, clearly startled, and frowned as he dropped the hammer into a loop on his low-slung tool belt. He gave them a short nod.
It wasn’t much of a greeting, but she resolutely strode forward with Emma in tow. “Looks like you’ve been working hard since you got here.”
“Yesterday and today.” He tipped his head toward the corral. “I need at least one safe corral finished before I can go back for my horses and the rest of my things.”
Emma had shyly hung back behind Darcy, but now she took a tentative step forward. “You have horses?”
His cool demeanor softened as he looked down at her. “Just two. Drifter is a pretty palomino mare just about the color of your hair, and Charlie is a bay gelding with four white socks and a blaze. I’ve had him since I was twelve.”
She looked up at him in awe. “I want a pony but Mommy says not ’til I’m bigger. That’s too long.”
Darcy cleared her throat, knowing all too well where that conversation was heading. “We actually stopped by because I figured you don’t know anyone in town yet, and thought you might like to join us for Easter dinner this afternoon. I didn’t think to ask you when we first met on Friday.”
“Well, I...”
“It’s just the two of us here in town, so we won’t have a big family gathering or anything.”
Emma’s eyes sparkled. “Could you bring a horse?”
He looked down at her and chuckled. “That would be fun, but I’m heading back to Montana as soon as I put away my tools.”
Emma’s face fell. “Mommy even made my favorite pink fluffy Jell-O. And then I get to hunt for Easter baskets. What if there’s one for you?”
That deep slash of a dimple appeared when he smiled at her. “I think I’m too old for that, darlin’. But I know you’ll have a great time.”
“We’d better go home and let Dr. Maxwell finish up so he can get on his way.” Darcy reached for her hand. “I hope you have a safe trip. Let Marilyn know when you’ll be back, in case someone asks.”
When he looked up at Darcy, his warmth faded as quickly as if he’d turned it off with a switch, and he was back to his aloof business persona. “Probably Thursday or Friday.”
“Uh...I’ll let her know. Safe travels.” She turned away and headed back to the car with Emma.
How awkward was that? He’d shown kindness to Emma, but if he was this cool and distant with his clients, he wasn’t going to fare well.
Though if he didn’t connect well with them, maybe he’d eventually put the practice up for sale, and perhaps by then she’d be able to find favorable financing. A little flare of hope settled in her heart.
Maybe her dreams could still come true.
* * *
“We’re down to only fourteen volunteers now,” Beth said on Friday afternoon as she studied the list on her iPad. She drummed her fingers on the vet clinic receptionist’s counter. “I never expected six would cancel. All of our posters promised there would be twenty, and the handyman fundraiser auction is tonight. Guess I was too optimistic.”
“There should still be enough money for the church youth group trip, though,” Darcy said.
“For the kids, probably. But not enough to cover the chaperones’ expenses, and some of those parents just can’t afford it otherwise. Without enough chaperones, the trip is off. Have you asked Logan to participate? I’ll bet he would be willing.”
“Ask him? I barely know him.” Darcy shuddered. “He doesn’t seem like the benevolent type. And this would be an awfully big favor.”
“Wouldn’t it be a great introduction for him in the community, though? Participating for such a good cause would surely cast him in a more favorable light. He didn’t exactly have an auspicious start in town.”
“Thanks to Paul Miller, who had no business starting those rumors at the cafe.” And mostly thanks to Logan himself, but she tried to rein in that uncharitable thought. “For all I know, Logan doesn’t even have the skills for this sort of thing. I’ve seen him wield a hammer, but that was only on a fence board.”
“Call him and find out,” Beth insisted. “You have his cell number, right? Tell him the auction is for just twenty hours of labor. Surely he could manage to do something useful for someone.”
“Maybe. But I haven’t even seen him all week—not since he showed up and announced that my career, my whole life, is being turned upside down. Marilyn’s and Kaycee’s, too, and you know how much they need their jobs.” Darcy thought for a minute. “Oh, and I also saw him briefly last Sunday, when he refused my invitation for Easter dinner and was pretty much cold as ice when we talked. A very brief conversation, I might add.”
Beth grinned. “And here I thought he might just be the perfect match for you. Handsome, same career, lots to talk about...”
Darcy snorted. “No way. Sounds like fairy-tale stuff to me. Been there, done that, and I’m not going down that road again. Ever.”
“If he’s been gone all week, maybe he’s changed his mind about buying the clinic and is scouting out other possibilities.”
“I wish,” Darcy retorted dryly. “But I think the purchase of the clinic is a done deal. Signed contracts and all of that. He called the clinic this morning and told Marilyn he’d be back sometime late today with his two horses and the rest of his things. That sounds permanent to me.”
“So, will you make that call?” Beth fixed Darcy with an expectant look. “Please? We could bend the rules so he wouldn’t even need to appear onstage.”
Darcy laughed, remembering Logan’s narrow-eyed glower when they’d first run into each other at the clinic. “That actually might be for the best no matter when he shows up back in town.”
“Just be sure to let my assistant know as soon as you have an answer, because Janet will be printing the final version of the program at six thirty, and the auction starts at eight.”
There were reasons Beth had made such a success of her bookstore, and sheer determination topped the list. Darcy sighed heavily as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll send him a text. I need to take Emma to her dental appointment at four, and I’ll be busy with clients all afternoon. If he doesn’t respond by then, Kaycee can ask him when he stops in.”
Beth beamed. “Perfect.”
“Well, hang on to that thought, but I doubt he’ll agree. Anyway, I suspect most bidders have already set their sights on the handyman they prefer, so Logan might not generate much for the fundraiser.”
“Are you still planning to bid on Edgar Larson?”
“Absolutely.” Darcy fervently clapped a hand against her upper chest. “He is the man of my dreams.”
Beth laughed. “But just a bit old for you, sweetie—by forty years at least. And don’t forget about Agnes.”
“All the better. I understand Ed is the best craftsman in the bunch, and my late aunt’s cottage is in serious need of repairs. And I hear his wife sends along her incredible caramel rolls whenever he starts a new job.”
“So I’ve heard. Those rolls alone should double his worth during the bidding.”
“I sure hope not. But I suspect every single, divorced or widowed woman in town wants to win him as much as I do.”
“As do all of the women whose husbands can barely change a lightbulb. Edgar is our biggest draw every year, bless his heart. Last year he was first on the program, and a third of the audience left as soon as his work was auctioned. This year, we’ve got him last.”
“I’ll sure be hoping. Last month I did a lot of calling around, trying to find someone to start doing repairs and updating. The reputable firms are booked at least six months out, and I may no longer have that kind of time to wait.”
Beth rested a comforting hand over Darcy’s. “Our whole book club is praying you’ll be able to stay in town one way or another, believe me.”
“I’m praying, too. But I still need to be prepared.” Darcy tapped a brief text to Logan and held up her phone for Beth to see, then hit Send. “There, it’s done.”
“Thanks a million.” Beth leaned in for a quick hug. “Now we’re all set.”
Probably not, Darcy thought as she headed into an exam room, where a cocker spaniel was awaiting a health exam and vaccinations. Would Logan even consider the request?
There was no answer to her text by the time she’d finished with the spaniel.
Nothing by the time she finished with her other appointments and gathered her purse and car keys to go pick up Emma. Of course not. She hadn’t expected him to agree, but at least he could’ve been thoughtful enough to respond.
She stopped in the kennel room, where Kaycee was checking on the IV running for a beagle recovering from surgery. “I still haven’t heard back from Dr. Maxwell. Can you keep trying to reach him? Or tell him about the auction if he stops by the clinic?”
“No problem.”
“Oh, and let Janet or Beth know about his answer, in case they need to add his name to the program.”
“Will do.” Kaycee shut the cage door, turned around and grinned. “Did I hear you say that you’re pinning your hopes on Edgar? He’s my uncle, you know. Crotchety as can be.”
“So I hear, but I’m praying he’ll agree to continue working for me after the twenty hours are up.”
“Best wishes on the bidding, ’cause it’s probably your only chance of getting him to do any work for you. Outside of the annual youth group auction, he’s superfussy about who he works for. Says he’s semiretired.”
“So...if I don’t have the winning bid, you could put in a good word for me later on?” Darcy said. “Please?”
“I’ll ask, but it probably won’t make any difference. His own niece tried to hire him for a project last winter and he flat-out said no. Then again, the whole family knows she’s high-maintenance, and he probably didn’t want the bother.”
“I promise you that I’m not,” Darcy said with a smile as she headed for the door. “I’m desperate, not difficult.”
As she drove to the babysitter’s home to pick up Emma, the truth of her own words weighed heavily on her heart.
The cottage needed a lot of work, as dear old Aunt Tina hadn’t been able to keep up with repairs and updates during her final years. But now there was a ticking clock to consider.
If Logan Maxwell did let her go at the end of two months, her options would be to establish a new practice here—a financial impossibility right now—or to find a practice elsewhere, looking for an associate. But how would the cottage ever pass the mortgage home inspection for a buyer if she suddenly had to sell it and move on?
As she waited at the only stoplight on Main Street, she looked heavenward and briefly closed her eyes. Please Lord, help me win the bidding for Edgar—and give me more time to work things out.
* * *
A large crowd had already gathered in the church reception hall when Darcy arrived with Emma in tow just minutes before Pastor Mark began his opening remarks at a podium.
Two long bake sale tables displayed delectable treats, while several other tables offered arts and crafts items. At the far end of the room, two women were offering hot chocolate and coffee from the kitchen serving window.
“I know you just had supper at home, but would you like some hot chocolate or a treat?” Darcy asked. “I see some pretty frosted cookies on that table.”
Emma nodded somberly. “A cookie. Can we go home?”
“Um...I need to stay, sweetie.” The daytime babysitter who took care of Emma after morning preschool every day was rarely available for evenings, and Darcy hadn’t been able to find anyone else.
She settled Emma on a chair with her cookie and took the chair next to her. “One of the nursery ladies and some teenagers from the youth group are watching kids in the nursery. Would you like to go play with them?”
“I wanna go home.”
Emma’s mood didn’t bode well for the evening, but Darcy could hardly blame her. It had already been a long day for her, and this was now Emma’s usual bath time, to be followed by a bedtime snack and a stack of books to read. In the hope that Edgar had been moved to an earlier time slot, Darcy opened her program and looked down the list.
It was up to fifteen names now, each followed by a brief description of the types of handyman jobs they preferred. Some were members of the church with other careers but willing to mow, rake or help paint. A few offered to help with household repairs or a specific auto maintenance task rather than the twenty hours. A couple said “negotiable.”
Edgar was still at the end of the list and... Oh, my. Darcy drew a sharp breath in surprise. There was Dr. Logan Maxwell’s name, second to last. No skills listed. She glanced at it again in disbelief. He’d actually volunteered?
Surprised, she glanced around the crowded room trying to find Beth or Janet...or even Kaycee, who had planned to take a shift at the bake sale table. Glimpsing Kaycee in the crowd milling at the back of the room, she dropped her jacket on her chair. “I’ll be right back, sweetie. You’ll be able to see me just right over there.”
Emma looked up from nibbling the edge of her cookie and yawned. “Then can we go home?”
“In a little while. Once it gets started, the auction shouldn’t take long.” She strode toward the crowd as Pastor Mark yielded the microphone to Lewis Thomas, a short, spare man with thinning hair and a booming voice, who encouraged vigorous bidding for the sake of the youth group, then began describing the terms of the auction.
He abruptly launched into a rapid-fire auctioneer’s patter, and one after another, the handyman volunteers were auctioned off. Fifty dollars. A hundred. Several went for one fifty.
A woman with a gleam in her eye shouted, “One seventy-five! That one’s my husband, and now he’ll have to take care of my honey-do list!”
The audience erupted in laughter.
“Hey, Kaycee,” Darcy called out as she edged through the people pressing forward toward the podium and made her way to Kaycee’s side. “I’m dying to know what Dr. Maxwell said—and how you convinced him to volunteer. Will he be here tonight?”
A faint blush bloomed on Kaycee’s cheeks. “I’m really sorry, Doc. I never saw him at the clinic. I left two messages on his cell, but he never called back.”
Darcy felt the blood drain from her face. “B-but he’s on the program.”
The younger woman’s eyes widened. “Maybe he talked to someone else?”
“He wouldn’t have known anyone else on the committee.” Darcy bit her lower lip. “I’ll find Beth or Janet. No worries.”
“If he’s listed and his work commitment is auctioned, he’s got to follow through, it’s like a contract,” Kaycee said darkly.
“Surely not if the listing is a mistake,” Darcy retorted. “Try calling him right now. Find out if he knew about this and get him over here right away. He doesn’t need any more bad press in town. I’ll try to find Janet and get his name removed.”
But as she turned to scan the crowd, her gaze landed on Emma. The little girl was still dutifully sitting in her chair a dozen feet away, the cookie barely touched, and tears were trailing down her cheeks. Darcy’s heart lurched as she hurried over, slipped into the chair next to Emma’s and gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry, honey—but you did see where I was, right?”
Emma gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“And did you see your Sunday school teacher just over there? And you know Beth, and Sophie—” Darcy glanced around. “I even see Hannah in the next row. You were safe, I promise.”
Emma nodded tearfully, her lower lip trembling.
“Stay right with me while I find someone, all right?” Darcy scooped the child up into her arms, and Emma sagged against her shoulder, too tired to answer.
Darcy tried to make her way through the crowd, but now everyone was out of their chairs, craning their necks to see who was up next as another five handyman volunteers were auctioned in quick succession.
“Dr. Logan Maxwell,” the auctioneer shouted above the hubbub. “New guy in town, and already helping the community. Gotta give the guy credit. Doesn’t say what kind of work he can do, but let’s go. Starting at two hundred, folks—who is ready to go?”
Darcy froze in horror as the auctioneer’s voice slipped into an almost indecipherable sales patter and the crowd fell silent.
People exchanged glances.
A few snickered.
A stage whisper filtered through the room.
“Who’d want to bid for the likes of him? My poor cousin works at the clinic and said she’d soon be out on her ear...”
Time seemed to stop as more whispers spread through the room. Then the room fell silent once again when the auctioneer dropped the starting bid to a hundred seventy-five. A hundred fifty. “C’mon folks...he’s a real bargain at that. You’ll be helping the kids, and maybe he can even spay your cat.”
Uneasy laughter rippled through the audience. “How ’bout a hundred twenty-five, then...”
Darcy desperately scanned the crowd. Surely someone would be glad to grab such a bargain...or maybe just have mercy on him. Right now he was like an outcast, a pariah who would be the talk around town for a long, long time. And from the hard expressions she saw, that wasn’t going to change. Please, Lord, encourage someone to bid.
Kaycee appeared at Darcy’s side. “This is awful. But on the other hand, he’s mean and he kinda deserves it.”
“No one ever deserves ridicule, and that’s what will happen,” Darcy said quietly. “He’ll be the only guy who failed to receive a single bid. Ever.”
“He’s still mean,” Kaycee retorted.
“To him, the clinic is business, not personal. He’s not changing things out of spite.”
“He doesn’t know any of us, really,” Kaycee said with a stubborn pout. “And he doesn’t care. Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it. The rules say no one can win more than one handyman each year. You want Edgar and I have an apartment, so I don’t need a handyman at all.”
Darcy needed Edgar desperately. It might take all of what little she had in savings to win him—and even that might not be enough.
Potentially losing her job and trying to move away two months from now would be hard enough. Without his skills, it might be impossible to fix up the cottage enough to sell it in a few months.
But now empathy for Logan burned through her, taking a hard, painful hold of her heart. Could she stand by and let him become the humiliated laughingstock of the auction if no one bid even a few dollars?
She elbowed Kaycee sharply. “Bid,” she whispered. “Now.”
Startled, Kaycee stared at her. “What? I don’t have the money.”
“I’ll pay. Bid against me just to bring it up to a decent amount so it isn’t embarrassing for him, and then I’ll take over. Seventy-five dollars max.”
“Isn’t this dishonest?”
“We’ll be increasing the youth fund profits, not trying to get a deal,” Darcy whispered back. “And I’ll certainly honor my bid if I do win.”
Kaycee weakly raised a hand to bid.
“We’ve got fifty, folks,” the auctioneer cried out jubilantly. “Now, do we have seventy-five...”
Darcy nodded.
From across the room, she saw Gladys Rexworth eye her speculatively, and her heart sank.
“Eighty,” the older woman barked. Her mouth twisted into a malevolent, superior smirk, and now Darcy realized this was personal.
Darcy closed her eyes briefly, remembering the run-ins she’d had with the woman in the past.
She hadn’t wanted Logan to lose face in front of the community. But now this—this would be even worse. Gladys was a wealthy, spiteful woman who seemed to take pleasure in causing others grief with her wicked tongue.
Darcy didn’t even want to imagine how Gladys might enjoy having the new vet under her thumb, and then spread her vicious comments after setting impossible standards for his work.
Darcy held Emma a little tighter and swallowed hard. “Eighty-five.”
Gladys lifted her chin triumphantly. “Two hundred.”
Please, God, tell me what to do here. Edgar stood next to the podium, awaiting his turn. The man who could swiftly, expertly deal with the most serious projects at the cottage...
Her shoulders sagged. “Two twenty-five.”
Gladys’s eyes widened and mouth narrowed. Then she shook her head.
“The vet is the bestseller so far tonight, folks,” the auctioneer crowed. “And our lady vet is the winner! Could this mean there’s a little romance in the air?”
Darcy groaned and ran a palm down her face at the titter of laughter in the audience.
“Now for the last opportunity of the night, we have...” The auctioneer droned on.
A sudden gasp spread through the crowd, and every head turned toward the back entrance.
Dr. Maxwell stood in the open doorway—windblown, disheveled and breathing hard, as if he’d run all the way from the clinic. His incredulous gaze shifted from the auctioneer to Darcy. “What on earth is going on here? I never—”
With Emma still in her arms, Darcy hurried to his side, looped an arm through his, and hauled him back outside. “Everything is fine, folks,” she called over her shoulder. “He’s just surprised to find he’s worth that much. I sure am.”
As she shut the door behind them, the auctioneer’s delighted voice followed her outside. “Back to the highlight of the evening, folks. We have Edgar Larson, your last chance to bid. He’s a fine carpenter who tops our auction every single year...”
She cringed inwardly. What in the world had she done?
Chapter Three (#ubec16442-5493-5349-889b-d4716c13d638)
Her face pale, Darcy put her daughter down, leaned against the exterior wall of the church and closed her eyes. She looked as if she were on the verge of collapsing.
Her little girl gave Logan a wary look and hid behind her mom’s legs, as if she thought he was the big bad wolf.
He moved a step closer in case Darcy crumpled to the ground. “Are you all right?”
“I can’t believe I just did that,” she moaned. She shot a sidelong glance at him. “I didn’t plan to go that high, but then Gladys...”
“And I can’t believe someone put my name on an auction block—and for what, I have no idea,” Logan bit out. “I don’t even know those people.”
“Those people are members of this church, some of whom generously offered handyman skills, babysitting or hours of yard work to be sold at the annual handyman auction. The others are the generous folks in town who often pay far more than a deal is worth, because every dollar helps the youth group attend an annual faith rally in the Twin Cities,” she retorted wearily. “If you’d answered my text messages on your cell, it wouldn’t be at all confusing.”
“I don’t check my phone while driving.”
“Not even at a gas station?” Now she sounded exasperated. “Or when you stop to eat?”
“I drove for several hours without good reception, and there were no messages.”
“Then you need to switch cell companies.”
The loud clang of metal against metal rang out from down the street. He glanced toward the sound. “That would be one of the horses in my trailer. I stopped at the clinic before going home and found a brief note on my desk that said, ‘Auction at the church—be there at eight tonight,’ so I came straight over here. Why am I involved in this?”
Her shoulders slumped. “My friend Beth is the committee chair, and she was desperate to have a few more names on the list. She also...um...thought it might give you some good PR in the community.”
Beth, of course. He’d worked for days sorting and packing possessions to bring back to Wisconsin, hauling things to Goodwill and wrapping up the details of his old life in Montana.
Now, after fifteen hours in his truck, plus three long stops to unload the horses for a break from travel, all he wanted right now was to get them into the barn and collapse on his sofa. The coming week was going to be even more hectic...but now what had Beth gotten him into?
“So she just went ahead and added my name?”
“No. I told her I would ask you, but apparently her assistant added you at the last minute before running off the programs.” Darcy shot a dark glance at him. “I suppose she figured that you—like all the others who volunteered—would be more than happy to help out the kids.”
“And what does this involve, exactly?”
“The winning bidder gets twenty hours of your time—but it can be just a few hours here and there. Carpentry, home repairs, lawn care...whatever.”
“So if I simply decline, you can save your money and I can save my time. Easy enough—”
A young woman with a long curly blond ponytail burst out of the building, headed straight for Darcy and pulled her into a brief hug. “I’m so sorry, honey. I was helping in the nursery, but heard about what happened in there—that you bid on someone no one else wanted. That was the kindest thing ever. I know how much you wanted Edgar instead.”
No one else wanted? Logan didn’t want to be in this situation at all, but hearing he didn’t compare to some guy named Edgar didn’t sit right, either. “Who’s Edgar?”
Darcy ignored him. “Please—tell me Ed went for some impossible amount so I couldn’t have won his bid anyway.”
The woman bit her lower lip. “Two seventy-five.”
Darcy’s face fell. “Nooo.”
“But remember, you’ll never know how much higher the winner would have gone to beat you—it could have ended far, far above your budget.”
Darcy scooped Emma up into her arms. “I’ll keep that thought when I go back to trying to hire someone.”
“Who knows? Maybe your guy has some great skills, too.” The woman’s speculative gaze swept over Logan. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Hannah Dorchester, one of the physician’s assistants in town. And you are...”
“Logan Maxwell.”
“So you’re the one Darcy just bailed out, in front of all those people?”
Bewildered, he looked between the two of them. She’d bailed him out? “This was all a mistake. I’ll go inside and straighten this out right away.”
“Please don’t make a scene.” Hannah sidestepped to block the door. “The kids are all excited and celebrating. Anyway, it’s all over now, so there’s no rush. Go home. Think about it. Do you have any idea what Darcy just did for you?”
Darcy rested a hand on Hannah’s forearm. “It’s okay. He never agreed to this in the first place.”
“I need to get back inside to help Beth wrap things up for the night.” Hannah glanced at her watch, then tilted her head and gave Logan a brilliant smile. “Can I stop by the clinic for a few minutes first thing tomorrow? You can give me your decision then.”
He gave a noncommittal nod, though he already knew what his answer would be.
Once she’d gone back into the building, he turned to Darcy, but at the sound of a horse delivering a another solid kick to the horse trailer, he reached for the keys he’d shoved in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m being paged, so I’d better get those horses home.”
She smiled at that. “Of course.”
He would be free of this crazy situation tomorrow, no doubt about that. But all the way back to his new home, he couldn’t escape the vision of Darcy’s expression.
She’d been clearly embarrassed, but he’d also caught a hint of desperation and bitter disappointment. So what was going on with her, for this auction to matter so much?
And who in the world was Edgar?
* * *
Hefting another bale of fragrant alfalfa that the farmer had just tossed down from the hay wagon, Logan looked over his shoulder at the approach of an unfamiliar car.
A moment later, the woman he’d met after the auction last night stepped out of the vehicle and approached him with a hand shading her eyes from the morning sun. Hannah, if he remembered correctly, though last night he’d been so tired he didn’t know for sure.
“I called the clinic, but Marilyn said you were taking care of a hay delivery. So I decided I’d just bop out here. Beautiful drive, anyway, with all of this timber and those rocky bluffs. I always loved coming out to Doc’s place for his annual barbecues.”
“I could’ve saved you the trip if I’d had your number.”
“That’s why I wanted to see you in person.” She laughed softly. “Beth and I are hoping you won’t get off that easy.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“Honestly, I think you’d be better off if you just let it stand. Good PR and all that.”
He tipped his head toward the house. “Even if I wanted to help y’all out, I just don’t have the time. I can barely get in the door with all of the moving boxes stacked inside. It’ll take days to finish fencing the pasture and longer to take care of repairs in the barn.”
“But—”
“And then there’s going to be extensive remodeling at the vet clinic. A lot of time just getting the new practice going, and we’re still in foaling and breeding season, which means long days and even longer nights when I start seeing clients.”
“Last year a guy backed out,” Hannah said darkly, as if she hadn’t heard a word about his complicated life. “It was the talk of the town for months when the winning bidder demanded her money back from the youth group, and that started a big flap about the future of the auction—liability, worries about lawsuits—but without this big fundraiser, too many deserving kids will miss a wonderful opportunity. This year we’d been praying there wouldn’t be a single glitch to jeopardize the auction concept. But now there is. You.”
“This reminds me of a conversation I had with Beth at the cafe.” He stifled a laugh. “Darcy has some pretty convincing friends.”
“My fiancé likes to say I’m forthright.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “Others just say stubborn. But if it’s for a good cause, why not?”
There were now a good twenty bales waiting for him on the ground. The man on top of the stack was holding another and eyeing him impatiently. “If that’s it, then...”
He turned to get back to work, but she touched his arm. “Please.”
“Look, I—”
“If you don’t care about the kids, well...”
“It isn’t that I don’t care—I just don’t have time.”
“Then think about Darcy and what she gave up for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s single, you know, with no family around to help. Her little cottage is a wreck, and she’s been trying to hire a good handyman for months. But the good ones are booked ’til after the end of the year. And now, with her job in jeopardy since you showed up, she might have to sell and move. The cottage needs a lot of work before it can be listed.”
Baffled, he shook his head slowly. “How could just twenty hours of labor make enough difference, then?”
“She wanted to win Edgar. She’d been saving for months, hoping he would get the work started and then be willing to keep working for her. He’s a wonderful craftsman, but takes very few new clients.”
“Then she shouldn’t have bid on me.”
“That’s what I say. But she has a soft heart. She felt bad for you when no one else would bid. I’m sure she didn’t want you to face any ridicule.”
“I’m sure I could’ve handled it,” he said dryly.
“Maybe so...but with half the town angry over you threatening to fire the entire vet clinic staff, why add more fuel to the fire? And—” Hannah bit her lower lip, as if deciding how much more to say “—the other woman who drove the bidding up is...well, I think Darcy went so high ’cause she was trying to save you from a potentially bad situation. Very bad.”
The man on the hay wagon cleared his throat. “Hey, Doc, I need to get back to the farm. You want me to just keep pitching these off or what?”
Now there were a good fifty bales tossed into a jumbled pile on the ground, and at last one had landed wrong and broken. The farmer was muttering under his breath.
“I’ll be with you in just a second.”
He turned back to Hannah. “What if I made a donation to cover Darcy’s bid instead of doing the work?”
Hannah folded her arms over her chest. “Fine, donate the two twenty-five. Except Darcy is still left high and dry. No Edgar, and no other skilled craftsmen are available until January...at least. Like I said, this is a small community.”
“Fine. I’ll do it, then,” he said on a long sigh as he lifted a bale and started into the barn.
But long after Hannah left, questions kept spinning through his thoughts as he stacked bales into one of the box stalls he was using to store hay.
So Darcy had been struggling to save up for this auction? He knew what she was being paid at the clinic, and saving up a few hundred bucks for her beloved Edgar shouldn’t have been any big deal.
Yet apparently she was strapped for cash.
So what was her problem? Credit card debt? A gambling problem? Sheer irresponsibility? She didn’t seem like the type, but then, his own sister had mired herself in debt from online shopping, and he’d had to bail her out more than once so she and her kids wouldn’t lose their condo.
And then there was his ex-fiancée—who had been far worse. He knew all too well how a person could be caught up in a web of embezzlement.
So maybe this unexpected situation wasn’t so bad after all. If he completed the auction obligation to her, he’d have a chance to observe her situation and see if he even dared keep her around for the next two months.
Desperate people could end up doing desperate, illegal things, and he wasn’t going through that situation ever again.
* * *
Logan logged onto the computer at the clinic on Monday morning and continued the search he’d started at home late last night.
“Marilyn, can you come in here, please?” he called out.
Darcy came in instead, wearing the new clinic uniform—maroon scrubs—plus her white lab coat with the Aspen Creek Vet Clinic logo on the front pocket, and a stethoscope around her neck. “She’s out in the parking lot helping Mildred McConaughy bring her dog in. Can I help you?”
“I need to order some equipment, and I’d like an opinion on the vet supply distributor reps around here.” He flipped through the battered Rolodex on the desk. “Who do you prefer to deal with?”
“Doc Boyd usually gave his orders to Harold Bailey—the two were old friends who went way back.”
He looked up at her, momentarily taken aback. She stood in a shaft of morning sunlight streaming through the windows of his office. He’d first thought she had nondescript brown hair, but now he was struck by its rich, molten gold-and-amber highlights.
It took a moment to gather his scattered thoughts. “And...uh...you don’t call him anymore?”
“His branch warehouse is clear down in the Quad Cities, and the company takes too long for deliveries. After Doc passed away, we started using ABC Vet Supply because it has a warehouse over in St. Paul. Next-day delivery, usually, because it’s so close.”
“So that sales rep is...” He thumbed back through the Rolodex. “Vicki Irwin?”
“She’s young and fairly new, but sharp as can be and really follows through. She stops in twice a month. Sooner if we have any issues.” Darcy lifted a shoulder in a faint shrug. “But of course, you’ll need to decide for yourself which companies you want to use. What kind of equipment are you looking for?”
“The most outdated pieces of equipment are the blood chemistry machine and CBC cell counter—which should run around twenty grand. A new anesthesia machine would be at least four grand more.”
“With Doc gone, I didn’t feel right making any major purchases, but both are long overdue, for sure. What else?”
“Most everything else can wait a while.” He shifted his gaze to the computer screen. “But a new equine ultrasound is imperative for reproductive issues and evaluating injuries.”
She whistled under her breath. “Not cheap.”
He nodded. “It could run over fifty grand if I duplicate what we used in Montana.”
“It’ll be fun watching you bring this clinic up to date.”
She turned to leave, but he cleared his throat. “Your friend Hannah came out to see me on Saturday. I imagine she told you about it.”
“What?” Her mystified expression cleared. “You mean about the auction? I knew she planned to talk to you, but I haven’t heard from her since Friday night.”
“She and I got everything squared away.”
“Good to hear. I told Beth that the committee shouldn’t try to push you into something you never intended to do, so you’re off the hook.”
“But is that what you want? Your friend says you’ve been saving money for this for a long time.” He eyed her closely. “That you really need the help and can’t find anyone to do it.”
“Yes, well...that’s my concern, not yours.” A weary smile briefly lit up her face, and she looked like someone who had the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Honestly, I just want to apologize for what happened.”
“I understand your bidding saved me from the clutches of a difficult woman.”
At that, she laughed aloud. “You do owe me a favor for that. You have no idea.”
“I’m going to follow through. Will that just about cover it?”
Her eyes widened with surprise and a touch of wariness. “You don’t need to. Really.”
“I called Beth just a few minutes ago. It’s a done deal.”
“Um...” Her gaze veered away, and she swallowed hard. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I...um...need someone who is really skilled as a handyman. Experienced.”
“You’re worried about getting your money’s worth.” He heard the unintentionally hard edge in his tone and instantly regretted it when he saw her flinch.
“I must sound so crass.” Rosy color washed up into her cheeks. “It’s just that whether my daughter and I stay or need to leave town, I... I need the work to be done well and up to code.”
“Tell you what. You’ve got twenty hours of my time, so make a list of what needs to be done. Then let me come over some evening this week so I can see if I have the skill set for what you need. Tonight would be fine, if you’re eager to get started.”
“That I am.” She bit her lower lip. “But if you don’t feel it’s something you want to tackle?”
“Then I’ll donate the full amount of your bid to the youth group, and you can save your money to pay someone else.” He offered his hand across the desk. “Deal?”
She hesitated, her expression still filled with doubt, but she finally accepted his brief handshake. “This is beyond generous. I think you’re being too kind.”
Not kind, he thought as he watched her head out of his office. Just careful.
Since asking about her around town would only start rumors, he needed to take this into his own hands.
Because absolute trust was a rare and fragile thing, and he couldn’t afford to make the same mistake twice.
Chapter Four (#ubec16442-5493-5349-889b-d4716c13d638)
Darcy had given Logan a list of projects and the directions to her house before leaving work at the end of the day. She’d blushed a little, saying she knew there were far more than twenty hours of labor on the list, but she’d thought he might want to choose what he wanted to do.
A tactful expectation that he’d need to select the easier tasks, he supposed.
From that long, long list he’d figured she was living in shabby house worthy of a wrecking ball in a seedy part of town. Probably around the taverns, trailer park and mechanic’s shop on the south end.
But he’d followed her directions down several winding, tree-shaded streets into an area of well-kept homes from the early 1900s. Now he stood on the sidewalk in front of 56 Cranberry Lane and just stared.
The surrounding houses were two-story brick, with sweeping covered porches on the front, leaded glass and manicured lawns. Darcy’s place was brick as well, but just a single story, with a brick-paved driveway leading past the side of the house to a matching one-stall garage.
It reminded him of a dollhouse in comparison. A neglected one, at that. If Darcy was blowing her money, it hadn’t been spent on the place she lived.
Lace curtains in the front window fluttered. Then the door opened and Darcy came across the porch and down the steps and let him through the gate at edge of the sidewalk.
“I’m sure you can already see some of the projects here,” she said with a self-conscious laugh, gesturing at the ornate white picket fence surrounding the front yard. “The backyard is fenced as well, and there must be dozens of pickets that have broken or rotted away.”
He eyed the intricately cut upright pieces. “These were custom-made.”
“My sweet old aunt loved detail. There are lots and lots of gingerbread trim pieces on the cottage, and she echoed that theme in the fence.” Darcy smiled fondly. “I loved visiting her, because the place was rather like a little fairyland theme park. Lots of animal and elf statues tucked away in unexpected places, some little goldfish ponds. But now I can’t just go to a lumberyard and pick up replacements. She wanted everything to be unique.”
He glanced up at the house. “Your aunt...”
“She passed away almost two years ago and left everything to my brother and me. He essentially got her liquid assets, and I got the cottage. So when I was able to find a job in town, I was thrilled.”
“Did you grow up here?”
“North of Minneapolis, actually. But after...” Her voice trailed off. “Well. Let’s take a quick look around, okay? I put Emma to bed a few minutes ago, and I need to get back inside.”
She took him around the house, pointing out broken gingerbread trim along the eaves and a sagging rear porch, then took him through the back door into the kitchen.
The cupboards and countertops were dated and worn, with a circular burn mark on the counter next to the stove. The vinyl flooring was yellowed and scarred with age. The room was small.
But a row of four sash windows looked out on the backyard, giving it an airy, quaint feel, and the burnished oak woodwork glowed in the light of a stained-glass chandelier that hung over the oak claw-foot table.
“As you can see, there is no end to the projects around here. I can’t afford to remodel the kitchen fully, but the sink and faucet need replacing, and the lighting in here is impossible. It’s like working in a cave.” She led him through an archway leading into a small living room and gestured to the left. “That door leads to two bedrooms and a bathroom. The first priority inside is the carpet, because of Emma’s asthma. Fortunately there’s beautiful old oak flooring throughout the house, but it needs to be refinished, and there’s quite a bit of work in the bathroom, too.”
“Your other priorities?”
“Everything,” she said simply. “I’d love to remodel the entire place if I could, but anything you want to tackle and have time to finish would be wonderful. I don’t expect even a minute extra. I’m just grateful, given all that you have on your own plate.”
He turned slowly, taking in the faded floral wallpaper, the lacy curtains and the worn leather furniture that made him think of soft marshmallows. A small television sat in one corner with a DVD player and stack of children’s DVDs on top. No high-end electronics here.
“So if you’d won the bid on your friend, you might have gotten everything done?”
“Edgar isn’t a friend, but I did hope to convince him to stay on longer for his usual rate. Whether he would’ve agreed or not, I’ve no idea.”
“Well, I’ll do everything I can. You can decide where to start.”
“Really—you can do this?”
At the renewed doubt in her voice, he stifled a chuckle. “I’m sure I can’t compare to Edgar, but I grew up on an isolated ranch where we dealt with most everything on our own. And then I put myself through college working summers for a contractor.”
“Really?” The worried look in her eyes faded. “Perfect. I’d like to start with the picket fence, because it would really improve the curb appeal. Maybe that isn’t possible, though. Those swirly edges and the heart cutouts at the top of the pickets must be tricky.”
“No problem. I’ve got a band saw and a jigsaw, and I can use an old picket as a template.”
“I realize the fence might take a good part of your hours, but with whatever time is left, can you start work on the kitchen?”
“No problem.”
From one of the bedrooms came the faint sound of Emma whimpering.
“Sounds like you’re needed, and I’d better get home to do my horse chores.” Logan pulled his truck keys from his back jeans pocket as he headed for the door. “Just figure out where you want to start, and I’ll come back after work tomorrow to do some measuring. I’ll write up a list of materials, and once you have them, I can get to work.”
The enormity of the work to be done here and her concern about it were more than clear. He felt a twinge of guilt as he walked out to his pickup.
He’d been in seminars at vet conferences where business consultants recommended making a clean sweep of things, bringing in new staff unencumbered with prior loyalties and stubborn adherence to old routines.
So when he made an offer on the clinic, he hadn’t thought too deeply about what his plans would mean to the current staff. His focus had been on new beginnings—financing and building a successful new practice.
If he’d been empathetic enough to consider the collateral effect on the people involved, would he have turned down this chance to start his life over?
And would he now change his plans for the focused vet practice he’d always wanted—what he had specialized in through an extended equine medicine residency and then pursued in the Montana group practice for the past eight years?
That was another question.
“Thanks, Logan—have a good night,” Darcy called softly from the door as she closed it.
He stared at the door after she turned off the front light, sorting out his thoughts. She was certainly an enigma.
She was a single mom, which had to be tough. Yet she did have a good career, she’d inherited this house and he’d seen no evidence of profligate spending. If she was as strapped for cash as Hannah had implied on Saturday, where was her money going? Was she a risk as an employee?
He hadn’t known her for very long, but while his heart told him no, the logical, analytical side of his brain said yes.
She was the spitting image of the associate vet who had so easily ruined his life in Montana, the one who had so quickly captured his heart. Was that why he felt an inexplicable tug of emotion whenever he ran into her? A physical awareness tinged with a persistent niggle of doubt?
Whatever he felt about her, it had no place in his life. Not now, not ever.
The humiliating interrogations, legal fees and defamation of his character back in Montana were too fresh in his mind to take any chances.
* * *
Darcy finished her exam of the Chihuahua and smiled. “Scooter is doing really well. The X-rays show excellent healing.”
Mrs. Johnson picked her dog up and cuddled him against her chest. “I was so worried—I don’t know what I’d do without my little boy for company.”
“You made the right choice when you let me go ahead with the plating and bone graft. Splinting of radius-ulna fractures in these small dogs doesn’t always succeed.”
“Worth every penny to do things right, I always say.” She gave the little dog a kiss on its head.
Darcy handed her a list of going-home instructions. “You said that he always wants to be on the sofa and bed with you. Have you set up some ramps for him? He shouldn’t be jumping to the floor.”
“I ordered two from a catalog, and they were delivered yesterday.” The elderly woman moved toward the door, then turned back with a wink and a smile. “I heard about you winning the new vet at the handyman auction, and I just think it’s so sweet. Smart, too, keeping all of the other young ladies at bay like that. Keep him to yourself.”

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