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Montana Mistletoe Baby
Patricia Johns
A COWBOY FOR CHRISTMAS?Barrie Jones needs a Christmas miracle. Five months pregnant, she's already the talk of Hope, Montana, because she won't tell anyone who the father is. And now her ex, Curtis Porter, is back in town, throwing her life into chaos.Curtis is about to retire from bull riding, which means selling the building that houses Barrie's veterinary practice—essentially putting her out of business—so he'll have enough money to start over. He's the bad guy, right? And Barrie should know better than to give him a second chance, but Curtis seems different… He's talking about settling down, maybe becoming a family man. Has Curtis really changed? And can Barrie change, too, and trust Curtis to do right by her and her baby?


A COWBOY FOR CHRISTMAS?
Barrie Jones needs a Christmas miracle. Five months pregnant, she’s already the talk of Hope, Montana, because she won’t tell anyone who the father is. And now her ex, Curtis Porter, is back in town, throwing her life into chaos.
Curtis is about to retire from bull riding, which means selling the building that houses Barrie’s veterinary practice—essentially putting her out of business—so he’ll have enough money to start over. He’s the bad guy, right? And Barrie should know better than to give him a second chance, but Curtis seems different... He’s talking about settling down, maybe becoming a family man. Has Curtis really changed? And can Barrie change, too, and trust Curtis to do right by her and her baby?
“Long time no see, Curtis.”
He was about to reply when she came closer and the words evaporated on his tongue.
Barrie’s tan canvas winter coat was open in the front, and her belly swelled under a loose cream-colored sweater. She sauntered down the aisle toward him, her vet bag slung over one shoulder, and stopped at the stall.
“You’re—” He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to point out the obvious, but he’d never been a terribly diplomatic guy. “You’re pregnant.”
“I am.” She met his gaze evenly.
“Congratulations.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Somehow, in all of his considerations surrounding seeing Barrie again, he hadn’t considered this one.
“Thank you.” For the first time, her confidence seemed to falter, and color rose in her cheeks. “You look good, Curtis.”
His jeans were mud smeared and he hadn’t shaved in several days, but he’d take the compliment. He allowed himself one more glance down her figure before he locked his gaze firmly on her face and kept it there. Her body, and her baby, weren’t his business.
Dear Reader (#u49508100-7e9c-51fe-8d26-abb2eb436d66),
Christmas isn’t always an easy time of year, but it comes around whether we’re ready for it or not. I’m glad that Christmas comes relentlessly, because I think we need the sparkle. The holidays force us to look up—to the lights, to the decorations and to the people around us. We’re never as alone as we think. I hope this Christmas is a happy one for you, and that you’re able to find some of that Christmas magic.
If you enjoyed this book and my other Hope, Montana stories, you might also want to check out my books in the Love Inspired and Heartwarming lines. I have a feeling you might like them. If you’d like to connect with me, you can find me on Facebook or at my website, patriciajohnsromance.com (http://www.patriciajohnsromance.com).
A very merry Christmas from my home to yours!
Patricia Johns
Montana Mistletoe Baby
Patricia Johns


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
PATRICIA JOHNS writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Love Inspired, Western Romance and Heartwarming lines. You can find her at patriciajohnsromance.com (http://www.patriciajohnsromance.com).
To my husband, the love of my life. Life with you is never dull!
Contents
Cover (#ubd09850b-ad5b-55b8-a443-cd591dba720b)
Back Cover Text (#u5335f963-e83d-5f56-b0e3-ad09c584afba)
Introduction (#u27ef3c2e-449d-5f7e-8db0-fd50768d5020)
Dear Reader (#u59dafa79-d768-53cf-a679-9cf24c288ebd)
Title Page (#ua290ef29-1567-53da-9faf-e2122e228d7b)
About the Author (#u4ed80d56-d173-5ae2-a6da-8af9d89655cc)
Dedication (#uf4f9ac2b-c093-580f-93b2-c2aef99f731c)
Chapter One (#u7b8a4601-e3ee-5ce5-a8b9-4ba3d85c1194)
Chapter Two (#ud489b7b7-8f80-50dc-adce-671a72211d77)
Chapter Three (#u66448f74-e4d1-52bf-89a0-935b708a8877)
Chapter Four (#u1ef65c19-df39-501b-824e-7ed58a8ce872)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u49508100-7e9c-51fe-8d26-abb2eb436d66)
Curtis Porter was too old to be a bull rider, and right about now, he felt like a failure at ranching, too. When he’d moved away from Hope, Montana, for good, he’d left behind a soon-to-be ex-wife and a whole heap of memories. He figured if he ever came back, he’d show her just what she missed out on. He didn’t count on coming back washed up.
Curtis hunkered down next to the calf in the barn stall. The calf was having difficulty breathing and looked thin. It obviously hadn’t been eating properly. Curtis had been back on the ranch only since Friday, so he couldn’t blame himself for not noticing sooner. Bovine illness could be hard to spot at first glance, but the later stages were obvious. He still wished he hadn’t missed this one—he hated the unnecessary suffering.
December was a tough month—the days being snipped shorter and shorter, and darkness stretching out well into his work hours. He did chores in the morning and evening with a flashlight while winter wind buffeted him from all directions. It wasn’t an excuse to have missed a sick calf, but it factored in.
Curtis rose to his feet and let himself out of the stall. He’d just have to wait for the vet. He was officially out of his depth. Curtis was a recently retired bull rider, and when the aunt who’d taken him in as a teen asked him to come back to help run the ranch while she recovered from a broken ankle, he’d agreed, but it wasn’t only because of his soft spot for Aunt Betty. He had other business to attend to in the tiny town of Hope—the sale of a commercial property—and he’d been putting that off for longer than his finances would comfortably allow. He no longer had the choice—he needed the money now.
Curtis’s cell phone blipped, and he looked down at an incoming text from Aunt Betty.
The vet passed the house a couple of minutes ago. Should be there any second.
There was a pause, and then another text came through.
Tried to get Palmer, but he’s out at an emergency for the night. Had to call Barrie. Sorry, kiddo.
His heart sped up, and Curtis dropped the phone back into his front pocket. Of course. There were only two vets in Hope, and his ex-wife, Barrie Jones, was one of them. At least Aunt Betty had tried for the less awkward option.
The barn door creaked open, and Curtis looked up to see Barrie framed in the doorway. From this vantage point, he could see her only from her shoulders up—chestnut-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, no makeup and clear blue eyes—and his heart clenched in his chest. Her gaze swept across the barn, then landed on him, pinning him to the spot. Fifteen years, and she could still do that to him.
“Betty said I’d find you out here,” Barrie said, pulling the door shut behind her. The sound of her stomping the snow off her boots on concrete echoed through the barn. Then she headed past some stalls toward him. “Long time no see, Curtis.”
Apparently Aunt Betty had given Barrie time to compose herself, too. He swallowed hard and was about to reply when she came around to the aisle and the words evaporated on his tongue.
Barrie’s tan canvas winter coat was open in the front, and her belly swelled under a loose cream-colored sweater. Her walk was different—more cautious, maybe—but other than the belly, she was still the long-legged beauty she’d always been. Barrie sauntered down the aisle toward him, her vet bag slung over one shoulder. She stopped at the stall.
“You’re—” He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to point out the obvious, but he’d never been a terribly diplomatic guy. “You’re pregnant.”
“I am.” She met his gaze evenly.
“Congratulations.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Somehow, in all of his considerations surrounding seeing Barrie again, he hadn’t considered this one.
“Thank you.” For the first time, her confidence seemed to falter, and color rose in her cheeks. “You look good, Curtis.”
His jeans were mud smeared and he hadn’t shaved in several days, but he’d take the compliment. He allowed himself one more glance down her figure before he locked his gaze firmly on her face and kept it there. Her body—and her baby—weren’t his business.
“You look good, too,” he said. “You’re doing really well, then. Your veterinary practice, a baby on the way... So, who’s the lucky SOB? Anyone I know?”
It was annoying to admit it, but that was his biggest question right now—who’d managed to make her happy? He couldn’t say that he wouldn’t be a tiny bit jealous. A man didn’t marry a girl, vow to love her until death parted them and then watch her move on with some other guy without at least a twinge of regret.
“I doubt it.” Her smile slipped, and she turned toward the stall. “Is this the calf?”
So she wasn’t going to tell him? How bad could it be? This only made him all the more curious. He unhinged the latch and opened the gate.
“Seriously?” he asked. “All I have to do is ask Betty who you’re with—”
“I’m single.” She shot him a sharp look, then went into the stall and crouched down next to the calf. “I’ll take a look.”
Single? So, some idiot had knocked her up and walked out on her? That sparked some anger deep inside him. He’d walked out, but only after she’d shown him the door, and she most definitely wasn’t pregnant when he’d left. So he might be an SOB, too, but whoever had left her alone with this baby was higher on that list.
Barrie put on some rubber gloves, pulled a flashlight out of her bag and checked the calf’s eyes. Then she pulled out a thermometer and murmured reassuringly to the calf as she worked.
“So who’s the father?” Curtis pressed.
Barrie glanced up again, then sighed. “Curtis, I’m here to do a job. Would you like to know what’s wrong with this calf or not?”
“Fine.” He leaned against the rail and watched her check the calf’s temperature.
She looked at the readout on the digital recorder. “A cow’s body temperature rises continuously during the day, so it’s hard to get a really accurate idea of how much fever a calf is running...”
Barrie pulled the plastic cover off the thermometer wand, then dropped it back into her bag. She rose to her feet and turned to Curtis. “But this calf is definitely running a fever. I’m thinking it’s probably bovine respiratory disease. It’s catchy, so keep an eye on the other calves bought at the same time. It can be transferred to adult cattle, as well, so make sure you quarantine the sick ones or you’ll end up with a costly epidemic.”
“Got it.” He nodded. “Treatment?”
“I’ll give antibiotic doses for a few days. It’s caused by a virus, but the antibiotics treat any secondary illnesses that develop as a result and let the body focus on fighting the virus. If we find the sick cows early enough, they get over it. If not, it turns into pneumonia and you’ll lose them.” Barrie opened her bag again and pulled out some packaged cattle syringes and bottles of liquid medication.
She was beautiful when she was focused like that. Barrie had always been that way—she could be knee-deep in manure and still look sweet. Curtis cared about the cattle—and about the running of his aunt’s ranch—but right now, his mind was still working over the fact that Barrie was both single and pregnant. She’d always been the prim and proper type—so much so that it had driven him kind of crazy—so he knew how hard this would be on her.
“Tell me that you told the father to take a hike, and I’ll feel better,” he said after a moment.
“I don’t need defending, Curtis,” she replied. “Least of all from the man who walked out on me.”
“You kicked me out,” he countered.
“And you left.” Anger snapped in that blue gaze. Then she shook her head. “This is dumb. It was fifteen years ago. There’s no use fighting over it.”
She had a point. Their relationship was solidly in the past, and whatever her problems now, at least she wasn’t blaming him.
“So, how long are you in town?” she asked, turning to the calf again with a syringe. He wasn’t sure if she was asking to see how fast she’d be rid of him, or if this was just small talk.
“For a few weeks to help Betty until her ankle heals,” he said.
“I’m sure she appreciates it.”
“Yeah...” He cleared his throat. Her current state made his other news that much harder to deliver because he’d be the bad guy yet again. But he’d have to tell her eventually. There was no avoiding this one, even if he wanted to.
Barrie administered the syringe, then stroked a hand over the calf’s muzzle comfortingly.
“Poor thing,” she murmured.
“Will it be okay?” he asked.
“We’ll see,” she replied. “You may have caught the symptoms in time.”
She tried to stand but stumbled. Curtis stepped forward and caught her arm, helping her up.
“I’m fine.” She pulled back, and he felt stung. He’d reacted on instinct—she was a pregnant woman, after all, and any able-bodied man would want to give her a hand.
“Look, Barrie, I’m here for something else, too,” he admitted.
Barrie’s clear blue eyes met his, one eyebrow arched expectantly. She was so close that he could smell the soft scent of her perfume mingling with the tang of other barn aromas. She looked the same—the big blue eyes, the light eyebrows she always used to complain about, the faint spattering of freckles over her nose. Fifteen years had gone by, aging him beyond his ability to keep bull riding, and she still looked as fresh as the twenty-year-old he’d married. He really wished he could have come back a little more successful to prove that she’d missed out, but he couldn’t change facts.
“I’m selling the building,” he said.
* * *
PROFESSIONAL. IN AND OUT. That had been Barrie’s plan when Betty apologetically told her that Curtis was waiting in the barn with the sick calf. And seeing him again... He was older, obviously, but he was still the same Curtis who was too ruggedly handsome for his own good. But she was fifteen years older this time around, and pregnant. She had bigger worries than Curtis’s ability to make her melt with one of his half smiles. Besides, there was a far higher risk of him irritating her. She didn’t have the patience to deal with his boyish whims—her life had been turned upside down with this pregnancy, and she was facing her first Christmas without her mom, who had passed away last February from a stroke. She hadn’t seen that heartbreak coming, either.
“Selling the building?” she repeated, slipping past him into the aisle, his words not sinking in.
“The commercial building my uncle left me—the one you lease for your practice.”
Barrie whipped around in shock. “Wait—what?”
“I don’t have much choice, Barrie.”
“Selling it to who?” she demanded. A change in ownership didn’t have to mean an end to her ability to lease there... Her mind spun forward, sifting through the possibilities.
“Nothing’s finalized,” he replied.
As if that made his intentions any different. Anger simmered beneath the surface. She’d worked too hard for this, for too long, but Curtis had never cared about her ambitions. Fifteen years hadn’t changed much between them. What she needed was information—then she could make a plan. She’d had too many surprises lately, and a plan was an absolute necessity.
“But you have an interested buyer,” she countered.
“Palmer Berton is interested, but we haven’t nailed anything down.”
Barrie swallowed hard, her stomach dropping.
“You’re going to sell the building that houses my clinic to my business rival,” she clarified. “And you think he’ll keep leasing to me? I’m going to have to find a new place—move all my equipment, renovate the new space...” She was already tallying the cost of this, and as the tally rose, so did her anxiety. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s not personal,” he said. “I need to liquidate.”
Not personal? Curtis of all people knew how personal her practice was to her. “You need the money now?”
“I’m going to buy a stud farm with my business partner in Wyoming, and I need to sell to get the money for my half of the down payment. I don’t have a choice, Barrie.”
“So, what happened to bull riding?” She couldn’t control the ice in her tone. That had been the cause of their divorce—bull riding had stayed his priority, leaving her in the dust. She’d wanted a real home with him, not to follow after him in a beat-up trailer. She’d wanted to start a family, to pursue her education and become a vet. She’d wanted a life, not a road trip.
“My body can’t take it anymore,” he replied. “I’ve broken too many bones. This wrist—” He held up his arm and moved his hand in a circle. “You hear that clicking? Both of my ankles do that, too. I’ve gone as far as I can in the circuit. I’m officially old.”
At thirty-seven. Barrie had seen that coming, too, but he’d never listened to her. A body could take only so much punishment, and every time he’d get thrown and break a rib or dislocate his shoulder, she’d be the one patching up his injuries and begging him to find something safer, something more reliable... How many times had she sat in her parents’ kitchen, describing some new injury to her mom, who wisely just listened and offered no advice?
“That’s it, then,” she said. “You’re selling and this is my heads-up.”
He didn’t answer. She sighed and hitched her bag up on her shoulder.
“Fine,” she said. “Thanks for the warning.”
Since when had Curtis been stable, anyway? This had always been the problem—Curtis was always on the move. Leasing from his uncle had seemed safe enough, but when he died of a heart attack last year and left the building to Curtis, she’d had a sinking suspicion that her comfortably predictable days were limited. She paid her monthly lease to a management company, and she’d hoped that arrangement could continue for a while.
“You don’t know that Palmer will kick you out,” Curtis said.
“Really?” she snapped. “Because I know Palmer pretty well. I worked under him for three years after I got my doctorate degree. He was furious when I started my own practice. He hates competition. I’m still under water on my student loans, I owe a good amount for supplies and renovating my clinic... I’ve only been running my own practice for four years! If you need help with that math, I’m nowhere near financially stable enough to ride this out.”
Plus, there was the baby, which complicated everything further. She’d been wondering how she’d run a veterinary practice with a newborn. If her mom were still with them, she’d have a solution, but Mom was gone, and Barrie would have to sort this out on her own. Vets were on call 24/7. That was the way things worked in this field, and she wouldn’t be able to afford to take a decent maternity leave. She ran a hand over her belly and the baby squirmed in response. Emotion rose in her chest, and she swallowed against it.
“What am I supposed to do?” Curtis’s tone softened. “I own the building, but I can’t do a thing unless I sell it. I’m sorry, Barrie. I mean it when I say selling the building isn’t personal. I’ve put off the sale for a year, and there isn’t any other way. I can’t do the circuit anymore, and I have a chance for a fresh start. I either sell and invest in a business, or I’m washed up. It’s as simple as that.”
“It’s you or me,” she said wryly. “Nothing’s changed, has it?”
Curtis took off his cowboy hat and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We always did want different things.”
“Yeah.” The baby poked out a foot—maybe a hand? She put her own hand over the spot. Would she be forced to give up her dream of running her own practice and work under Palmer Berton again? The very thought put a sour taste in her mouth.
“Barrie, I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that.” She shot him a chilly smile. “But let’s keep things professional. I’m here as your vet, not as your ex-wife. If you notice any more cattle with hanging heads, lethargy or nasal discharge, call me and we’ll treat them right away. We can get this under control if we’re careful.”
Curtis blinked, then nodded. Had he expected her not to be professional? He’d been gone a long time, and life hadn’t just stopped in his absence. He might have wasted his time on the circuit, but she’d made good use of hers. Ironically, he could still pulverize her plans—that had been Curtis’s greatest talent.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye out and give you a call. Unless you’d rather we call Palmer so you don’t have to deal with me.”
And give Palmer the job? No, she didn’t want that in the least. She still had a practice to run, and she’d need all the money she could squirrel away.
“Curtis, I’m a professional,” she replied. “And I’m good at what I do. Call me.”
He nodded. “Will do.”
Curtis—or at least, her feelings for him—had been at the center of all of Barrie’s biggest mistakes in life, starting with marrying him and ending with a very unplanned pregnancy. This baby wasn’t his, obviously, but he’d been unwittingly connected.
As she headed back to her truck, Barrie let out a wavering sigh.
Professional. In and out. She’d managed it, hadn’t she?
One thing was certain—she wasn’t going to let Curtis close enough to mess with her heart again. He’d already done enough damage for a lifetime.
Chapter Two (#u49508100-7e9c-51fe-8d26-abb2eb436d66)
That evening, Curtis sank into a kitchen chair while Aunt Betty dished up a big plate of shepherd’s pie and placed it in front of him. She wore a walking cast—cumbersome and awkward, but she still got from place to place. Heaven help her if she tried to get onto a horse, though.
It was only dinnertime, but outside the kitchen window the sky was black. Curtis had more work to finish up before he was done for the day; this was just a food break. He’d forgotten how much work a ranch was. Bull riding came with training and practice, but running a ranch was the kind of work that never ended—there was no night off.
“Barrie says the virus is containable,” Betty said, flipping her gray braid back over her shoulder. “That’s a relief. I should have kept a closer eye on those calves myself.”
“Now we know,” Curtis replied. “I’ve got the other ranch hands keeping an eye out, too, so we should be able to keep it from spreading.”
Betty dished herself up a plate of shepherd’s pie, as well, then deposited it on the table with a clunk. His aunt’s shepherd’s pie was amazing—spicy meat, creamy potatoes and a perfectly cooked layer of green peas.
“You didn’t tell me Barrie was pregnant,” Curtis added. He’d been thinking about Barrie all day after seeing her in the barn. He’d known he’d run into her eventually, but he’d halfway hoped he’d have some control over that. Might have made it easier, too, if his aunt had given him more than a minute’s warning.
Betty pulled her chair out with a scrape and sat down. “Any chance the baby is yours?”
Curtis shot her an incredulous look. “Of course not.”
“Then it was hardly your concern,” Betty retorted.
That sounded real familiar, and he shot his aunt a wry smile. “Fine. Point made.”
They both started to eat, and for a few moments, Curtis thought the conversation might be over, but then his aunt said, “This town has been gossiping something fierce, and I wasn’t about to be part of that. Everyone has a theory on who the father is, and Barrie isn’t saying.”
“I noticed that. I asked her about it, and she pretty much told me to mind my own business.” He reached for the pitcher of milk and poured them each a glass.
Betty’s expression softened. “She’s not yours to worry over anymore, Curtis.”
“I know that.” He took another bite and glanced out the window again. Snow swirled against the glass.
“Do you?” Betty asked.
He sighed. “I’m not here for Barrie, Aunty. I’m here to take care of my business, help you out and be on my way.”
Betty didn’t answer, but she got that look on her face that said she thought she knew better.
“I told her that I’m selling the building,” he added.
“And how did that go down?” Betty asked.
“Not well, I have to admit.” Curtis sighed. “She says that Palmer will push her out of business.”
“And he will.”
Curtis put down his fork. What made everyone so certain? “Palmer isn’t the devil. Maybe he just wants a real estate investment. That isn’t unheard of.”
Betty shrugged. “She’s a better vet.”
“Is she?” Curtis had never seen Barrie in her professional capacity until today, and while he’d been impressed by her competence, he couldn’t judge much. Back when they’d been married, she’d wanted to go to school, but that hadn’t happened yet. Her life—everything she’d built for herself—had come together after he’d left town. It was slightly intimidating. She’d become a talented vet, and he’d become...too old to bull ride.
“Palmer has more experience, obviously,” Betty said, “but she’s got better instincts. Working together, they were a great team. On her own, Barrie has more potential. Palmer has already peaked in his career. She’s still climbing.”
“So you think he’s threatened,” Curtis concluded.
“If he’s smart, he is.”
An unbidden wave of pride rose up inside him. Barrie had always wanted to be a vet, and she’d not only achieved her dream, she was better than the established vet here in town, too. He’d always felt proud of Barrie when they were together. She was smarter than he was, in the book sense, at least. That had been frustrating when they’d argued, though. When she got mad, she got articulate. When he got mad, it all just balled up and he went out to ride until it untangled. Even their fighting hadn’t been compatible.
“So she’s doing well, then,” he said.
“Besides her mother passing away last winter,” his aunt said. “I told you about the funeral, right?”
“Yeah.” He sobered. Gwyneth Jones had never been his biggest fan, but she’d been a good woman, and he’d been sad to hear about her passing. This was a hard year for Barrie, and he hated to contribute to her difficulties, but he didn’t have a whole lot of choice.
“She’s done really well in her practice,” Betty went on. “She’s still single, though.”
“So are you,” he quipped. “We aren’t still judging people’s worth by their marital status, are we?”
“Of course not,” Betty said. “It’s not like I’m one to talk. But I’m more of the saintly single type,” she replied with a small smile. “It suits me.”
Curtis chuckled. “And Barrie isn’t?”
“She’s more like you,” Betty said, reaching past Curtis for a dinner roll. “Damaged.”
“Ouch.” Was that really how Betty saw him?
“You don’t count on me for flattery,” she replied, taking a bite. “You count on me for honesty.”
“Fine.” That was true. Betty had always been a rock in that sense. “So, we both know why I’m a wreck. Why is she?”
“In my humble opinion? It’s because of you.”
Curtis’s humor evaporated as his aunt’s words landed. “What do you mean?”
“She never did bounce back, dear.”
Barrie had always been tough, beautiful and definitely desired by the other guys in town. He’d tormented himself for years thinking about the cowboys who would have gladly moved in to fill the void he left behind. Over the last decade, he hadn’t called his aunt terribly often. When he did, and when he’d asked about Barrie, there was normally a boyfriend in the mix somewhere.
“I know she dated,” he countered. “You told me that much.”
“Oh, she dated,” Betty said with a nod. “She’s always been a beautiful girl. But she never did get anywhere near marriage again.”
Neither had he, for that matter. As a bull rider, women had come to him, and he hadn’t had to put a whole lot of effort into it. But he hadn’t gotten serious. He told himself it was because he’d been married before, and he wasn’t the romantic type anymore. Marriage was a whole lot harder than he’d anticipated. He’d done everything he could think of to make Barrie happy, and he still hadn’t been enough for her. He wasn’t a glutton for punishment, but he’d never imagined that she had ended up just as jaded as he had.
“I have to tell you, Curtis,” his aunt went on, “the gossip has been vicious about Barrie.”
“She isn’t the first person to have a child outside wedlock in this town,” he pointed out.
“No, she isn’t,” Betty confirmed. “But she won’t say who the father is, and people’s imaginations can come up with a whole lot more scandal than is probably the case.”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Some suggest she’s had an affair with a married guy around town. I know one woman who has an itemized list on why she’s confident that the mayor is the father. Others say she’s given up on finding love and went to a sperm clinic—” Betty paused. “Does it even matter? My point is that this isn’t an easy time for Barrie. And maybe you could...consider all of that.”
“When selling the building, you mean,” he clarified.
“Yes.”
“Aunty,” he said slowly. “If I’m going to buy that stud farm, then I’m on a timeline. I need to liquidate and come up with my half of the down payment by Christmas Eve, or the deal is off. I feel for Barrie—losing her mom, all of it—but we’ve been researching this business venture for two years now, and this sale is not only an excellent price, but it would be a future away from bull riding. This is no whim—it’s a plan.”
“I know that,” his aunt replied.
“So you can see that I don’t have a lot of options here,” he said. “Barrie has her practice. She’s built a life for herself. It’s been tough—I can see that—but she’s got a life put together. I have to do the same thing.”
Betty sighed. “I know. I just... Be as kind as possible, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
But what his aunt expected of him, he had no idea. None of this was his fault. If he didn’t invest in something soon, he wouldn’t be able to provide for anyone, let alone himself. If he didn’t sort out his own life, no one else was going to do it for him.
Except providing for someone else hadn’t even entered his mind until this moment...and along with the thought was an image of pregnant Barrie. He pushed it back—Barrie wasn’t his to worry about anymore. Besides, while she’d lost her mom, she had the whole town of Hope to back her up. The locals might enjoy some salacious gossip, but when it came right down to it, they took care of their own. He ate his last bite and rose to his feet.
“I’ve got more cattle to check on,” he said. “Thanks for dinner. Delicious as always.”
“Thanks for helping out,” Betty replied. “I mean that, Curtis. From the bottom of my heart.”
Curtis wiped his mouth with a napkin and deposited the plate in the kitchen sink. Shooting his aunt a grin, he headed for the door.
Barrie was independent. She’d fought him every day of their marriage and then proceeded to get her education and build a veterinary practice on her own. She was a force to be reckoned with, and while he understood his aunt’s concern about Barrie right now, he’d be smart to follow his carefully laid plans and start a life away from the circuit. That’s what Barrie had always wanted him to do, wasn’t it? And she’d been right. Better late than never.
He stepped into his boots and looked out at the ranch truck, snow accumulating over the hood in a smooth sheet. Snow was floating down in big fluffy flakes, and his mind was skipping ahead to the cattle. Curtis pushed his hat onto his head and trudged out into the cold.
Short days and long nights. This time of year brought the solstice, the shortest, coldest days before daylight started pushing back once more...
He glanced over his shoulder at the cheery glow of indoor lights shining through the windows. He was back in Hope for Christmas, and it wasn’t going to be a cheery homecoming. But he’d get through it and hold out for spring and new beginnings.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Barrie awoke three minutes before her alarm went off...and her feet were already sore. Her Great Dane, Miley, stood at her bedside, soulful eyes fixed on her. She’d never had trouble with her feet before, but pregnancy seemed to be changing the rules on her, and she hated that. When she’d first found out that she was pregnant, she’d promised herself nothing needed to change until the baby actually arrived. Some women nested when they were pregnant, but Barrie was going to control that instinct. These last few months would allow her to build up her practice enough that after the baby came she could scale back to clinic hours only, cut out the after-hours emergency calls and still keep her business afloat. But her body seemed to have other ideas.
“Morning, Miley,” she said, reaching from under her cozy comforter to give the massive dog an affectionate ear scratch. He’d started out as a regular-sized puppy with paws like dinner plates, and he’d grown past even ordinary Great Dane proportions. He was a huge, jowly, slate-gray lap dog—at least, that’s how he saw himself. He was a big baby, and absolutely worthless as a guard dog, but she loved him.
Barrie rolled out of bed and ran her hand over her belly. The baby stretched inside her. She didn’t know if she was having a boy or a girl yet. She’d tried to find out at her last ultrasound, but the baby’s legs were firmly crossed. She’d try to find out again—planning was key, and she didn’t have the luxury of sweet surprises.
She pulled her bathrobe around her body and cinched it above her belly. She was ever growing, and as she passed her full-length mirror before she padded out into the hallway, she caught a glimpse of a rounded, bed-headed stranger with a colt-sized dog trailing after her. There was no getting used to this, but she did enjoy it. She’d always wanted kids—the nonfurry kind—and while the timing wasn’t great, she was finally going to be a mother. It wasn’t quite how she’d imagined it happening... At least she’d get a chance at motherhood, and still being single at the age of thirty-seven, she’d started to give up hope.
Barrie lived in a single-level ranch house on the north end of Hope. She looked out her kitchen window at the pristine snow from last night’s storm. The neighbor kid she paid to shovel her driveway was already at it, metal scraping against asphalt. This morning, she had plans to organize her presentation for Hope’s 4-H club. She’d been invited to speak about a woman’s contribution to agriculture, and that was a subject Barrie was passionate about. Girls needed encouragement to step out and become leaders in ranching and animal care. If there was one thing Barrie knew, it was that a woman couldn’t wait for a man to define her future.
“You hungry, Miley?” She pulled down his food dish—which was really a medium-sized mixing bowl—took out the bag of dog food and filled the bowl to the top. Miley hopped up, paws on the counter, and snuffled his nose toward the bag.
“Miley!” she said reproachfully, and he dropped back down to the floor. He didn’t need his paws on the counter to see over it. When she put his bowl on the floor, he immediately dropped his face into it and started to gobble.
While Miley ate, she headed to the fridge to find her own breakfast. She felt just about as hungry as the dog. She grabbed a bag of bagels from the fridge and a tub of cream cheese. Then her cell phone rang, and she picked it up from the counter and punched the speaker button.
“Dr. Jones, veterinary medicine,” she said.
“Barrie?” She knew his voice right away, and she froze in the middle of cutting a bagel. Why did he have to sound like the same old Curtis? Her heart clenched, and she had to remind herself to exhale. Miley looked over at her, sensing her tension, no doubt.
“Curtis,” she said, resuming what she was doing and attempting to keep her voice casual. “Everything okay over there?”
“We have another sick cow.”
Bovine respiratory disease could spread quickly in the right conditions, and it could decimate a herd if left unchecked.
“A calf?” she asked.
“No, this is a full-grown heifer,” he replied. “It’s out in the south field. I saw it this morning on my rounds, and she’s too big to just tip into the bed of a pickup and bring back to the barn, so I was wondering what the best course of action is in this kind of situation.”
Barrie sank a butter knife into the cream cheese and began spreading it onto her bagel. This was going to be a breakfast to go.
“I’ll leave in about ten minutes,” she said. “I’ll go with you to see her in the field. We might be able to leave her where she is, depending on how sick she is.”
“Great.” He paused. “You sure this is okay? Not too early?”
Barrie rolled her eyes. She was pregnant, not an invalid. She hated the kid gloves men used with her now that she was expecting, but there didn’t seem to be any avoiding it. Perhaps this could turn into a nice little anecdote for her presentation to the 4-H girls.
“I’m a vet, Curtis,” she said wryly. “This is the job.”
“Of course.” His tone softened. “See you soon.”
Barrie hung up the phone and took a jaw-cracking bite of her bagel. “Eat up, Miley,” she said past a mouthful of food. “We’re leaving.”
Ten minutes later, Barrie was dressed, Miley had finished his breakfast and she had her own breakfast in a plastic container on the seat beside her. Her veterinary bag and other portable equipment were in the bed of the truck, and Miley was in the back seat, breathing dog breath over her shoulder. He was the worst back seat driver.
“Miley, give me some space,” she said, pushing his jowly face away from hers. “Miley!”
He ignored her until she pointed and said, “Lie down, Miley.”
Miley heaved a sigh and folded himself into the seat, his nails scratching against the vinyl. Lying down back there was no easy feat for a dog Miley’s size.
“Good dog,” she said with a smile. “You’re my boy, aren’t you?”
Miley made a conversational growling noise. It was his way of giving a verbal reply without getting into trouble for barking in the vehicle, and Barrie put her attention into driving.
Betty Porter’s ranch was about forty minutes outside Hope. Barrie had done some work with Betty’s livestock in the past few years, but her most vivid memories of the place would always be from when she’d been married to Curtis. They used to go to Betty’s place for dinner sometimes, and it had always been so warm and cozy. Curtis used to slide a hand up her leg under the table, which had embarrassed Barrie to no end. It amused Curtis just as much when she’d blush and Betty would give her a quizzical look. Barrie pushed the memories away.
She’d been in love with the soft-hearted rebel in Curtis, but that rebellious streak also made living with him difficult. Curtis was better at sneaking out to see her than he was at coming home to see her. He’d been better at seducing than he was at supporting.
And he was back. Seeing him again stirred up a confusing cocktail of old feelings. She’d married a bull rider but hadn’t been successful in taming him. That was how wisdom was earned—through mistakes—but even if she hadn’t married him, she’d have lived to regret it. Curtis Porter was a no-win situation.
The miles and minutes clicked past as she ate her breakfast one-handed, and before too long, she came up on the side road that led to the Porter ranch. She signaled and turned, scanning the familiar landscape. This mile marker, the copse of trees at the edge of the first field...she knew this area like the back of her hand.
Dealing with her memories of Curtis was hard enough, but adding the real man into the mix seemed foolhardy, even now. Why couldn’t he have just stayed away? The timing was awful—she was already off balance with the baby coming and her mom’s recent death. If it weren’t for her pregnancy, she might have been able to deal with all of this more easily...maybe.
Miley started scrambling again as he tried to get up.
“Hold on, Miley,” she said as she turned in to the gravel drive. “Almost there.”
Barrie took Miley with her on veterinary calls quite often. Not only was he good company, but she felt safer with him at her side, too. Not every ranch was equally well run, and some of them housed some rather slimy employees who stepped just a little more carefully around her with a dog Miley’s size staring them down. He’d never been tested to see how far he’d go to protect his mistress, and that was probably for the best.
Barrie pulled to a stop next to the ranch house and turned off the engine. The front door opened almost immediately and Curtis came outside. He was already in a coat and boots. He’d always been a tall man, but he looked broader and bulkier now that he was firmly in his manhood. If only he’d aged a little less attractively...
“Alright, Miley,” she said quietly. “Let’s go.”
Barrie pushed open her door and hopped out, then opened the back door for Miley, who followed her. Curtis’s step hitched just once as his gaze landed on the dog, and she couldn’t help the smile that twitched at her lips at his reaction.
“You rode bulls,” she said wryly. “This big old baby shouldn’t be a problem.”
“He’s almost as tall, too...” Curtis put out a tentative hand, and Miley sniffed him.
“Meet Miley,” she said. “He’s my right-hand dog.”
“Hey...” Curtis let Miley sniff him again, then stroked the top of Miley’s gray head. “You’re a big fella.”
Miley rolled his eyes back in ecstasy and nuzzled closer to Curtis like the big baby he was. She heaved a sigh. When Miley looked back at her, the dog froze for a moment, his eyes locked on his mistress.
“You’re a traitor,” she said with a low laugh.
Miley, reassured that there was no actual danger, turned his attention to sniffing the ground and finding a place to pee.
“So, are you ready to head out to the field?” Curtis asked.
“Absolutely. Let me get my bag.” Barrie went around her truck and opened the back to get her supplies. Then she met him at the ranch truck they’d take out into the field.
“Is...he coming?” Curtis asked dubiously.
Betty opened the side door at that moment, and when she spotted Miley, her face crinkled into a smile.
“Oh, you handsome young man!” she exclaimed. “Come over here, Miley. Betty has some treats for her boy!”
Curtis shot his aunt a look of surprise and Barrie chuckled. “They’re already acquainted.”
“Looks like,” Curtis replied with a shake of his head.
Betty disappeared into the house, Miley joyfully bounding behind her. The screen door slammed shut, and Curtis faced her with one side of his mouth turned up in a smile.
“Lead the way,” she said, jutting her chin toward the rusty red Chevy. She wouldn’t be softened by him. At this point, she was immune to his charms. Besides, Curtis Porter was selling her out. He might not owe her a blasted thing anymore, especially when it came to that particular piece of property, but he still had the uncanny ability to turn her entire life upside down just by waltzing into town. And she hated that. His fingerprints were still on her life, and she couldn’t ever quite scrub them off.
So Curtis was back, and he was screwing her over, but in the meantime, he was a paying customer and Barrie couldn’t afford to be choosy.
Chapter Three (#u49508100-7e9c-51fe-8d26-abb2eb436d66)
Curtis opened the passenger side door and held out his hand. Barrie stepped smoothly past him and awkwardly hoisted herself up into the seat without his aid. He shook his head. Just like old times.
“It’s a hand up,” he said with a wry smile, “nothing more.”
And he meant that. He wasn’t foolish enough to try something with her again. He already knew how that ended, and he was no longer a twenty-year-old pup looking to belong somewhere. The last fifteen years had solidified him, too. He’d learned about himself—his strengths and weaknesses, as well as what he wanted out of life: a job he could rely on, a place where he could make a difference and earn some respect. Just once, he wanted to be called Mister.
“I’m fine.” Barrie met his gaze with a cool smile of her own, and he adjusted his hat, then handed her the leather veterinary bag. She’d never really needed him for anything, and that had chafed.
Curtis slammed the door shut and headed around to the driver’s side. The south field was a fifteen-minute drive. Earlier he’d brought the cow some hay and a bucket of water and tossed a saddle blanket over its back to keep it warm until he could bring Barrie out there. He started the truck and cranked up the heat.
“That’s some dog you’ve got there,” he said as he turned onto the gravel road that led past the barn and down toward the pasture.
“Miley’s my baby,” she said, and he noticed her rub a hand over her belly out of the corner of his eye. He was still getting used to this—the pregnant Barrie. She looked softer this way, more vulnerable, but looks were obviously deceiving, at least as far as her feelings for him were concerned.
“Until you have this one, at least,” he said, nodding toward her belly.
“Miley will still be my baby,” she replied, then sighed. “But yes, it’ll be different. I honestly didn’t think I’d end up having kids, so I may have set Miley up with some grand expectations.”
“You always wanted kids, though,” he countered.
“I know, but sometimes life works out different than you planned,” she replied. “Exhibit number one, right here.” She patted her belly.
According to Aunt Betty, he’d been the reason she stayed single and childless, and he didn’t like that theory. So their marriage hadn’t lasted. The rest of her life’s choices couldn’t be blamed on him any more than her successes could be attributed to him. He stayed silent for a few beats.
“What?” she said.
“Betty kind of—” How much of this should he even tell her? “She said I’d done a real number on you.”
“You did,” she retorted. “But like I said, I’m fine.”
“So you don’t blame me for...anything?”
“Oh, I hold a grudge, Curtis.” She shot him a rueful smile. “But you’ll just have to live with that. Divorces come with grudges built in.”
Curtis nodded. “Alright. I guess I can accept that.”
Besides, from where he was sitting, her life hadn’t turned out so bad. And as for the kids—she was having a baby, wasn’t she?
“So, you’re done with bull riding, then?” she asked.
“Yeah.” She’d been right about the longevity of it. “It’s tough on a body. I can’t keep it up. Besides, it’s time to do something where I can grow old.”
“Like a stud farm,” she said.
“Yep. As half owner, I’ll be managing the place, not doing the physical labor.”
She nodded. “It’s smart. I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks.”
“Will you miss it—the bull riding, I mean?”
He rubbed his hand down his thigh toward his knee, which had started to ache with the cold. There was something about those eight seconds in the ring that grew him in ways Barrie had never understood. It was man against beast, skill against fury. He was proving himself in there—time after time—learning from mistakes and fine-tuning his game. He never felt more alive than when he was on the back of an enraged bull.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I will miss it. I do already. My heart hasn’t caught up with my age yet, I guess.”
“It never did.” Her tone was dry, and she cast him one unreadable look.
He chuckled. “Is that the grudge?”
“Yep.” And there wasn’t even a glimmer of humor in her eye.
But that wasn’t entirely fair, either. They’d been opposites, which was part of the fuel of their passion. She was almost regal, and he was the scruffy cowboy. She came from a good family, and he came from a chronically overworked single mom who’d consistently chosen boyfriends over him. Barrie had been the unblemished one, the one life hadn’t knocked around yet, and he’d already been through more than she could fully comprehend by the time he’d landed in Hope at the ripe old age of sixteen. If anyone should have been the obsessive planner at that point, most people would have assumed it was Curtis—just needing a bit of stability—but it had been Barrie who wanted everything nailed down and safe. And she had her untainted life here in Hope as her proof that her way was better than his. What did a scuffed-up cowboy like him know about a calm and secure life?
Curtis had known exactly how lucky he was to have her in his life, and his heart had been in their marriage. The problem, as he saw it, was that she hadn’t trusted him enough to risk a single thing after those vows. He’d wanted to make something of himself, and she’d dug in her heels and refused to budge. Her safe and secure life was here in Hope, and he was welcome to stay there with her, but she hadn’t trusted him beyond those town limits. So he had a grudge or two of his own.
“How is your dad?” he asked, changing the subject.
“As well as can be expected since Mom passed away. He’s looking at retirement in the next couple of years.”
“He isn’t retired yet?” Curtis asked. “He’s got to be, what, seventy?”
“Sixty-nine,” she replied. “And who can afford to retire these days?”
Sixty-nine and still working as a cattle mover—that would take a toll on a body, too, but Steve Jones didn’t have the luxury of a career change.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” he added. “Betty told me about her passing away when it happened, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t clarify if he’d made the right call in staying clear, so he’d just assume he’d been right. He was the ex-husband, after all. Not exactly a comfort.
“That must have been a shock,” he said.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “You don’t see that coming. This will be our first Christmas without her.”
“I’m sorry, Barrie.”
“Me, too.” She was silent for a moment. “I guess you’ll have Christmas with Betty, then.”
“I need to have the sale finalized by Christmas Eve,” he said. “Betty says she could do without me by then, so, yeah. Christmas with Betty, and then I’m leaving.”
“So I’ll be screwed over by Christmas.” Her tone was low and quiet, but he heard the barb in her words.
“Barrie, this isn’t personal!” He shook his head. “You, of all people, should appreciate my situation. Your dad is in the same boat—working a physical job that takes a toll on a body—”
“Leave my father out of this.”
Curtis had crossed a line; her dad’s plans were none of his business, and he knew that. It was hard to come back to Hope and pretend that the people he’d known so well were strangers again just because he and Barrie had broken up. Mr. and Mrs. Jones had been a huge part of his life back then, but obviously, her father would feel different about him postdivorce.
“Like I said before, you were right,” he said. “Bull riding was hard on my body, and this isn’t a matter of choice anymore. I simply can’t keep going. My joints are shot, I’ve broken more bones than I can count, and I couldn’t get on another bull if I wanted to. You told me all those years ago that this would happen, and I said I was tough enough to handle it. And I was—until now. So... I don’t have a lot of choice here, Barrie. I have to establish a new career and get some money in the bank so I can retire at a reasonable time.”
She sighed and adjusted the bag on her lap. “I always thought saying I told you so would feel better than this.”
Curtis smiled ruefully. Yeah, well, he’d always thought hearing it would sting more. But fifteen years had a way of evening the scales, it seemed. She used to be the one with all the cards, and now he was getting his turn at being the one with the leverage. Still, tilling her under hadn’t been the plan...
“You worked with Palmer before,” Curtis said. “Would it be so terrible if you ended up working together again? You’ve got some loyal clients—”
“I worked too hard to get my own practice to just cave in like that,” she interrupted. “And no offense, Curtis, but I don’t need you to solve this for me.”
“Just trying to help,” he said. Which really felt like the least he could do considering that he was selling the building to her direct rival.
“Well, don’t. I’ll figure it out.”
The same old Barrie—single-minded, stubborn as all get-out and perfectly capable of sorting out her own life. That’s what their married life had been—her way. And if you just looked at what she’d done with herself in the last fifteen years, it could be argued that the best thing he’d ever done for her was to get out of her way. He’d never been a part of her success—and she hadn’t been a part of his. From this side of things, it looked like a life with him had only slowed her down.
The truck rumbled over the snowy road, tires following the tracks from that morning. Fresh snow drifted against the fence posts and capped them with leaning towers of snow. Beyond the barbed wire, the snow-laden hills rolled out toward the mountains, the peaks disappearing into cloud cover. He’d learned to love this land those few years he’d stayed with his aunt, and having Barrie by his side as he drove out this way was frustrating. Curtis might be a constant irritation to Barrie—even now, he was realizing—but he wasn’t useless, either. So if he and Barrie were only going to butt heads, he might as well focus on the work ahead of them.
“We’re almost there,” he said. “Around this next corner.”
Barrie sat up a little straighter, her attention out the window.
“I left the cow with some feed and a blanket—you know, just in case. I wasn’t sure how sick it was, so—”
“That was a good call,” she said, glancing around. “How far out into the field is it?”
“A few yards,” he said. “Not too far. I found it when I was filling feeders this morning.”
He pulled up to the gate that allowed trucks access to feeders in the field, and got out to open it. The cows looked up at him in mild curiosity—an older calf ambling over as if interested in some freedom beyond the fence.
“Hya!” he said, and the calf veered off. Curtis jumped back into the cab and drove into the pasture, then hopped out again to close the gate behind them. By the time the gate was locked and he’d come back to the truck, Barrie was standing in the snow, her bag held in front of her belly almost protectively. Her hair ruffled around her face in the icy wind, and her breath clouded as she scanned the cattle that were present, her practiced gaze moving over them slowly. She was irritatingly beautiful—that was the first thing he remembered thinking when he’d met her in senior year. She was the kind of gorgeous that didn’t need what he had to offer, but he couldn’t help offering it anyway.
“The cow’s over—” he began, but Barrie was already walking in the direction of the cow about twenty yards away now. The cow had shaken off the blanket, and the rumpled material lay in the snow another few yards off.
“I see her,” Barrie said over her shoulder.
Once—just once—couldn’t Barrie be a step behind him? But whatever. They were here for a cow, and not their complex history. If she wanted to know why he needed a new start so badly, here was a prime example.
“Lead the way,” he muttered. It’s what she’d always done, anyway.
* * *
THE COW WAS definitely ill; she could tell by the way the animal stood. As she got closer, she could make out nasal discharge, the bovine equivalent of a runny nose. The snow was deep, and she had to raise her feet high to get through it, something that was harder now that she was pregnant. Her breath was coming in gasps by the time she approached the cow. She had to pause to catch her breath, and she glanced back to see Curtis’s tall form close behind.
It felt odd to have Curtis in town, and something had been nagging at her since she’d seen him in the barn last night—how come this was the first she’d seen of him in fifteen years? Betty was in Hope, and she’d been like a second mother to him. He’d walked out of town and come back only once—to finalize their divorce. Did he hate Barrie that much by the end of their marriage?
She looked around the snowy field, gauging the cow’s flight path. When handling cattle, it was important to make sure they had a free escape route, or the cow might panic, and two thousand pounds of scared bovine could be incredibly dangerous. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted.
“You never visited Hope,” she said as he stopped at her side.
“Sure I did.”
She looked over in surprise. “When? I never saw you.”
“A few Christmases. I didn’t call friends or anything. I just had a day or two with Betty and headed on out again.”
“I didn’t realize that.” She licked her lips. “Why the secrecy?”
“It wasn’t a secret visit, just streamlined. I didn’t really keep up with people from high school. I came to see Betty.”
She eyed him speculatively. “You weren’t avoiding me, were you?”
His lips turned up into a wry smile. “Why would I avoid you?”
Barrie sighed and turned back to the cow. She felt the cow’s belly. It hadn’t been eating much—like the calf—but the belly wasn’t completely empty, either. The cow shifted its weight from side to side, and she took a step back.
“Maybe the same reason you left in the first place,” she replied, her voice low.
“You really wanted me dropping in on your family Christmases?” he asked.
“No.” She sighed. She wasn’t sure what she wanted—absolution, maybe. She hadn’t been the wife she’d tried to be back then, but now, as a mature woman, she wasn’t sure that her image of perfection had been realistic. It certainly hadn’t included the fights they used to have...
Barrie liked the challenge of taming a wild spirit when it came to horses and cattle, but she resented that same wild spirit when it came to her husband. Marriage meant hearth and home to her, but to Curtis, it had been a beat-up trailer parked wherever he was bull riding.
But he’d come back for Christmas with Betty a few times, and somehow that stung.
“I meant well, you know,” she added. “I only ever tried to make a home for you.”
“I was a bull rider,” he replied. “You knew all of that before you married me.”
“Most men settle down when they get married,” she countered. “A wife should change something.”
“Not my identity. You wanted me to act like a different man.”
“I wanted you to act like a married man!”
The old irritation flooded back, and she hated that. She’d come a long way in the last fifteen years, and it felt petty to slide back into those old arguments. She wasn’t the same person anymore, either.
“I never cheated on you,” Curtis countered.
“There is more to marriage than monogamy,” she said. “You had a home with me, Curtis. You treated it more like a hotel room.”
“In all the best ways.” He shot her a teasing look, and she rolled her eyes in response. They might have shared a passionate relationship, but that hadn’t been enough. She’d been the fool who’d married a man based on love and her belief in his potential.
“Forget it,” she said with a sigh. “It was a long time ago. I’m sorry to have brought it up.” This was exactly why they hadn’t worked out. They talked at cross purposes, but maybe he was right—she’d been trying to change him. She was wise enough now not to try that again.
Barrie turned her attention back to the cow. She checked its temperature, and while she couldn’t tell exactly how sick the animal was by temperature alone, it had a low fever. All the signs were here—the illness was spreading, apparently. She patted the cow’s rump, and it didn’t move.
“We wanted different things, Barrie,” he said. “You wanted that white picket fence that would please your parents and give you some respect around here. I didn’t care about Hope’s respect. I wanted some adventure. We just...clashed, I guess.”
Barrie dropped the thermometer back into her bag, and pulled out a fresh syringe and the bottle of medication. Yes, she’d wanted a respectable home, and she’d worked hard to create it. A garden in the backyard, flowers in the front... He’d never cared to put down his roots where she’d turned up the soil.
“Quite simple, really,” she said with a sigh. “And we’d been young enough to think it wouldn’t matter.” She turned back toward the cow. “I’ll give the antibiotic shot. It’ll boost her recovery.”
“You’re the expert,” he replied, and she glanced back to see Curtis standing there with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. The wind had reddened his cheeks, and she had to admit that he had aged. In a good way, though. He wasn’t like some of those boys from high school who were bald under their baseball caps and sported beer bellies now that they were creeping up to forty. Curtis was in good shape.
Barrie prepared the syringe, then felt for the muscle along the flank. Her feet were cold in her boots, and the wind stung her fingers. Just as the needle hit flesh, the cow suddenly lunged, knocking Barrie off balance as it heaved forward.
The cow stepped back so fluidly that she wasn’t able to pull herself out of the way quickly enough. But just before she was trampled, strong hands grabbed her by the coat and hauled her backward so fast that her breath stuck in her throat.
Barrie scrambled to get her feet underneath her, and Curtis lifted her almost effortlessly, then pulled her against him as she regained her balance. She was trapped in his strong arms, staring up into a face that was both achingly familiar and different at the same time.
“You’ve aged,” she said feebly.
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Is that how you thank a cowboy?”
“Thanks...” Her stomach did a flip as she straightened and pulled out of his arms. “I’ll be fine.”
Curtis cast her a dry look.
“What?” She smoothed her hand over her belly.
“How many times have you told me now that you’re fine? I’m calling BS on that, Barrie. You aren’t the least bit fine right now.”
“The cow missed me—”
“That’s not what I’m taking about, and you know it.”
Barrie bent down to collect the syringe that had fallen into the snow. The cow had wandered off a couple of yards—maybe this particular cow had a bad experience with an immunization or something. Whatever had happened was all perfectly within the realms of normal when it came to a vet’s daily duties. Granted, if she weren’t pregnant, her reflexes might have been a bit faster...
“Curtis, you don’t actually know me anymore.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “You might not have liked the kind of husband I was, but I was your husband. I knew you, and I can recognize when you’re freaked out.”
Curtis might know some of her deeper characteristics, but that didn’t mean he still knew how she thought and what could get a rise out of her. He’d missed fifteen years of personal growth. Besides, she hadn’t been enough for him, so he could take his insights into her reactions and shove them.
“I’m not freaked out.” She shot him an irritated look. “I’m fine.”
She looked toward the cow again and adjusted the syringe, getting it ready for one more try.
“I don’t need rescuing.” Her fingers moved as she spoke. “So do what you have to do with that building, and I’ll sort things out. I always have.”
“Fair enough.”
Barrie didn’t want him to sell that building, but he’d already made it clear that he was out of options. If their divorce had taught her one thing, it was that she was better off facing facts and dealing with them. Hoping and wishing didn’t help. She’d focus on her future with her child.
“And you’ll need to quarantine that cow,” she added.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not new to this, Barrie.” His smile was slightly smug, but arguing with Curtis Porter about just about anything wasn’t a great use of her time. Professional. In and out. What had happened to that excellent plan?
She headed toward the cow that had wandered off. She might be pregnant, and her life might be spinning right out of control at the moment, but she’d get through this by standing on her own two feet. Curtis was a cautionary tale—that was all.
Barrie took a deep breath, and let her tension go. The cattle could feel it. She patted the cow’s rump, then inserted the needle into the tough flesh. She slowly depressed the plunger, then pulled the needle out and firmly rubbed the injection site.
“Done.” She turned around and gave Curtis an arch look. “Like I said, quarantine that cow, and any others that appear sick. That’s the fastest way to curb an outbreak.”
Curtis might know her weaknesses, but she also knew his, and he was the furthest thing from reliable. She needed a plan and blinders, because with a baby on the way, she didn’t have the luxury of being knocked off balance a second time by the same cowboy.
Chapter Four (#u49508100-7e9c-51fe-8d26-abb2eb436d66)
The next morning, Barrie ran her hand over a golden Lab’s silky head. This was Cody, the beloved pet of the Hartfield family, and he’d broken his leg while running on the ice. He was still unconscious from the sedative she’d given him, but his leg was set, the cast was in place and he’d recover just fine. His mistress, thirteen-year-old Melissa Hartfield, stood anxiously to the side. She wore her winter coat, open in the front, and a pair of puffy boots. She was a town kid—her dad was the mayor.
“Will he be okay?” Melissa asked. She looked younger than her age—her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her large eyes scanning the equipment. She glanced up at the IV inserted into a vein in the dog’s leg, then down at the catheter Barrie had introduced to keep the dog comfortable while she worked. The catheter was out now.
“He’ll be fine,” Barrie reassured her. “It’s not a bad break. I’ve put a cast on, and he’ll have to wear a cone so he leaves the cast alone, poor boy. The cone is the worst part for them—it hits them in their dignity.”
Melissa smiled faintly. “Will he be in pain?”
“I’ll give you pain medication and some antibiotics. He’ll need to take both daily—they’re very important to help him rest more easily and to keep infection at bay.”
“The IV—” Melissa looked intrigued. “How did you find his vein through his fur?”
“By touch.” Barrie caught the girl’s eye. “You’re interested in veterinary medicine?”
Melissa’s cheeks colored a little. “I want to be a vet like you when I grow up.”
Barrie grinned. She never tired of talking to young people who wanted to follow in her footsteps. “That’s great. And you can be. Just make sure you stay focused on school, because it’s a long haul. And you can’t let yourself get sidetracked by boys, either.”
“That’s what Mom always says,” Melissa said with a roll of her eyes.
“Your mom is right,” Barrie replied.
The front door to Barrie’s clinic opened—she could hear the soft chime—and Melissa looked toward the door. Her mother, Jennifer Hartfield, would be arriving anytime now to pick them both up, but Barrie couldn’t see the waiting room from where she stood.
“Is that your mom?” Barrie asked.
Melissa nodded.
“Let’s bring Cody out to the waiting room, then,” Barrie said. “You can take him home before he wakes up all the way. He’ll be groggy for a few hours, but when he does wake up, you need to make sure he stays off this leg, okay?”
Melissa nodded. “Dr. Jones?”
“Hmm?” Barrie removed the IV and pressed some gauze over the puncture.
“I was wondering if you might need some help. I’m not asking for a job—I know I’m not old enough for that. But I could help out, and I’d really like to learn...”
Barrie shot the girl a smile. “I’ll give that some thought, Melissa. I might be able to find something for you to do. And you’d have to get your mom’s permission, of course. I’m going to be talking to the 4-H girls next week, so I’ll see you then, too.”
“Are you really?” Melissa asked. “That’ll be cool.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Barrie set aside the last of the equipment and they wheeled the dog into the waiting room. Barrie was surprised to see both Jennifer Hartfield and Curtis standing by the line of chairs. He stood there like a tank—hat off but legs akimbo as he looked around. That dark gaze still gave her pause, even after all these years, and she shoved back those familiar feelings. Attraction had never been their problem. She gave Curtis a nod.
“Is there a problem with Betty’s herd?” Barrie asked.
“Nope. Just came by.” That dark gaze warmed, and she swallowed. Why did he have to do that? They weren’t married anymore, and he had no right to go toying with her emotions when she was trying to work. She turned a smile to Jennifer.
“Cody is going to be fine,” Barrie said, and she began explaining the care he’d need at home while his leg recovered. Jennifer and Melissa listened as she finished her explanation, and after Jennifer had paid the bill, they prepared to transfer Cody to the back of their SUV.
“Mom, Dr. Jones says that I might be able to help her out some time,” Melissa said.
Jennifer’s smile tightened. “Oh, did she? We’ll talk about that later.”
“But I could learn about being a vet, Mom, and—”
“Melissa...” There was warning in Jennifer’s tone, and Barrie glanced between them. It didn’t look like Jennifer was on board with this.
“Mom, you said that if a vet were willing to have me around—” Melissa started.
“I said if Dr. Berton were willing to have you around,” Jennifer said, her gaze flickering toward Barrie and then back to her daughter. “But we couldn’t get in to see Dr. Berton, so you’ll just have to wait.”
Barrie knew exactly what this was about—her pregnancy. Jennifer was a church lady through and through, and this pregnancy offended every sensibility she had. But now was not the time to offend a paying customer. Besides, there was more to Jennifer’s story than simply being the mayor’s wife and a Sunday school teacher... There was a whole story there that most people didn’t know—but Barrie did. She and Jennifer had been close friends when they were fourteen-year-olds in the eighth grade, and when Jennifer disappeared for the rest of the school year, Barrie might have been the only one who knew where she really went.
“It’s okay, Melissa,” Barrie said. “Dr. Berton is a very nice man.”
“But I don’t want to go with Dr. Berton,” Melissa said with a shake of her head. “I like Dr. Jones. She’s a girl. And she’d know stuff about being a female vet, Mom.”
“I said no!” Jennifer cast Barrie a pointed glare. “Could you just leave my daughter alone?”
Jennifer’s expression wasn’t angry, it was scared, and Barrie understood exactly why. Melissa was her only child...that most people knew about. And this was a delicate situation.
“Why?” Curtis’s deep voice reverberated through the room. They both turned to find Curtis standing there, arms crossed over his broad chest, steely gaze trained on Jennifer.
“Excuse me?” Jennifer slammed a hand on her hip and shot him an icy look.
“Why is Barrie such a bad choice?” Curtis asked. “As your daughter pointed out, she’s a female vet. She’s incredibly good at what she does.”

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