Carolyne Aarsen - Cattleman's Courtship

From here she could see the stick hanging down between his front legs. As she bent over to get a closer took, her mind skimmed frantically through her anatomy lessons, trying to picture which muscles the stick could have injured.

Watching the horse to gauge its reaction, she gently touched the leg, feeling for heat. But he didn’t flinch.

“When did this happen?” she asked, looking up at the wound. There was surprising little blood on the stick, which led her to believe it hadn’t punctured anything important.

“Um…let’s see…” Mr. Chapman hesitated, as if trying to recall.

“I found Duke this morning in the new pasture.”

The deep voice behind her reverberated across her senses. Then Nicholas crouched down beside her and she caught the scent of hay and the faintest hint of soap and aftershave.

She couldn’t stop the quick flashback to another time when she was at the ranch watching her uncle working on one of Nicholas’s horses. It was the first time she met him.

Too easily she recalled how attracted she had been to him. And when his eyes had turned to her, the feeling of instant connection that had arced between them.

And right behind that came the memory of his father, watching her with narrowed eyes. He still doesn’t like me, she thought, wondering once again why.

Not that it mattered. The way Nicholas acted around her, she was sure the son and the father were finally on the same page as far as she was concerned.

“Doesn’t look like any veins or arteries are punctured,” Cara said, gently touching the stick. It slid easily to one side. “I’m guessing it slipped between the muscles.”

Duke shifted its weight and the stick moved down a bit more.

“I’m going to pull this out, but before I do, I want to give him some anesthetic,” she said as she went back to the kit for a syringe and a needle. “How heavy is he—”

But as she spoke, Nicholas gave her the weight, as if anticipating her question.

She drew up the proper amount, pleased to see her hand held steady. She walked back to the horse but Nicholas was already at the Duke’s head, brushing the mane back, giving her a clear injection site.

“Are you sure you should just pull that stick out?” Dale’s voice said over her shoulder as she found a site for the needle. “That’s going to be trouble.”

“The stick is simply inserted between the sheaths housing the muscles. Pulling it out won’t cause more problems.”

Cara stifled her momentary irritation with Nicholas’s father. When she had worked for her uncle before, she had occasionally encountered resistance from people who didn’t think a woman was tough enough to do large animal work. And while she knew Nicholas’s father never particularly cared for her, she didn’t think that dislike extended to her capabilities as a vet.

“You haven’t been doing this for a while—”

“I’ll need a hose and water,” Cara said, interrupting his questions. “Could you get that for me, Mr. Chapman?” she asked, gently tugging on the stick.

He grumbled a moment, but left, giving Cara room to breathe.

Cara eased the stick the rest of the way out, moving more carefully than she might have with someone else’s horse, with someone else watching. She wanted to prove herself to Nicholas—to prove she wasn’t as incompetent as his father seemed to think.

The stick came out without too much exertion. It was exactly as she had said. It had slipped between the muscles and had only punctured the skin.

“Thankfully the injury isn’t major.” She stood up and held out the stick to Nicholas, who took it from her without a word.

She got a large jug of distilled water and a bottle with a squirt cap from the car.

She gently ran her hands over the wound, then, pulling apart the skin, began to rinse. “I’m just doing an initial cleaning of the wound to make sure everything is okay,” she said, intent on her task. “The rest will have to be done with a hose.”

“Won’t that be too cold?” Nicholas asked.

Cara shook her head, gently cleaning away a few bits of wood she had rinsed out of the wound. “The cold water will probably be soothing and help reduce any inflammation.”

“And it will heal on its own? You’re not going to stitch it up?”

“The wound needs to stay open so you can irrigate it. It will heal better that way.”

“Really?”

“Are you questioning my abilities, as well?” she asked, as an edge entered her voice.

“What do you mean, ‘as well’?”

Cara didn’t reply. The words had spilled out in a wave of frustration with Mr. Chapman and Nicholas, but mostly with herself for her silly reactions to their presence.

“Duke is my father’s favorite roping horse. You can’t blame him for making sure he’s being taken good care of.” Nicholas frowned at her. He seemed surprised at her anger.

And he should be. When they were dating, she never lost her temper. She had always done what was expected. Been the one to keep the peace.

Fat lot of good that had done her.

Now, despite her simmering anger, she still couldn’t break an age-old habit of avoiding confrontation, so instead of defending herself, she simply turned back to her patient and kept working.

“Here’s the hose,” Dale called out as he climbed over the corral fence. “You sure this will work?”

Cara didn’t bother to answer. She just held her hand out for the end.

“You want to be careful with the angle of the hose. You don’t want to be streaming the water directly upward into the wound,” Cara said, demonstrating what she meant. “And keep the pressure low. You don’t want to reinjure any regenerating tissue.” She handed the hose to Nicholas and straightened, easing the crick out of her back.

“How will I know when I’m done?”

“Just do it for about ten minutes at a time. You’ll also want to rinse the edges of the wound to keep it clean and to prevent it from scabbing over.”

“It will never grow together.” Dale planted his hands on his hips as if challenging her expertise. “You’ll need to stitch it.”

“I’ve seen a horse with a foot-long gash in its side that healed up on its own,” Cara replied. “It’s quite surprising how the body heals.”

Dale didn’t reply, and Cara hoped he was finished questioning and doubting her abilities.

She crouched down again, getting a closer look at what Nicholas was doing.

“Just keep doing that,” she said, gently prying aside the skin. “I don’t see any more bits of wood coming out and the water is running clean, so I think the bleeding has gone down.”

She gently ran her hands down the leg, to double-check. “I’ll give him some long-acting penicillin and I think that’s all I need to do.”

Nicholas stayed where he was and shot her a quick glance. As soon as their eyes met, she felt a lightness in her chest, as if someone had pulled her breath away. Stop. Stop.

She caught her breath again, wishing her heart would settle down. How would she last until Gordon Moen, the new vet, came if a few glances from Nicholas could create such a strong reaction?

Cara closed the kit, latched it shut and drew a long, steadying breath, thankful she was just about done. “Do you have any more questions?”

Nicholas held her gaze and she saw a question in his eyes. It seemed as if he was going to say something, but then he drew back and shook his head. “If I do, I guess I can call the clinic.”

She nodded, then turned away, surprised at a little flare of disappointment.

When she got to her car she was dismayed to see that Mr. Chapman had followed her.

“So you’re all done?” he asked, staring at her from beneath his cowboy hat.