Her Cowboy Boss Read online

  “You can knock off at five,” he told her, “whether I’m back or not. Just be sure to have my calls rerouted to my phone again. Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. I’ll see about getting you a key of your own, but for now just turn the dead bolt on the front door and press the lock on the doorknob when you go out the back.”

  “All right. Let me know if you need me to do anything special today.”

  “Will do.”

  Strangely, he felt as if he ought not to just walk out. He’d always at least kissed his wife on the cheek before he’d left for the day, but he couldn’t do that with Meri, of course. In the end, he patted her lightly on the shoulder as he walked past her.

  He felt somewhat encouraged and wildly off balance at the same time. Something told him that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

  * * *

  By 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, quitting time, Meredith had the entire clinic, including the kennel, gleaming. She’d organized the reception desk and decorated the waiting area as pleasingly as she could manage with what she had on hand—a couple of vases she’d found tucked into a cupboard and some framed landscape photographs that she’d liberated from the attic at the Straight Arrow. She had no idea who’d taken the pictures, but she recognized some of the shots as being Straight Arrow property. Stark seemed not to notice.

  Because he often worked late, he apparently sometimes napped at the office and perhaps even stayed over on occasion, as there was a bed in one of the rooms, as well as a dresser. The bed had no headboard or footboard and only a single, pilled blanket for cover. The dresser was chipped in several places. She hadn’t peeked in the drawers or the closet, but she assumed that he kept clean clothing there, and she’d found toiletries in the single restroom.

  He hadn’t bothered having the old cast-iron bathtub removed from that room. The thing couldn’t be more than a foot deep and was a horrible shade of pink, but the other fixtures were new and gleaming white. Without asking, she’d hung a plain white curtain in front of the tub, and he hadn’t said a word about it. She thought it gave the room a more businesslike feel.

  She had even gone out and scrubbed the freestanding shower in the corner of the carport. Then she’d replaced the curtain there with a heavier, two-layer one and laid a clean mat on the ground outside of it so he wouldn’t have to step onto the cold brick with bare feet. He hadn’t mentioned those changes, either, but so long as he didn’t complain, she assumed that he approved.

  Wandering around the empty place on Saturday, she took stock, wondering what she could do to dress up the place next. Her eye fell on the longest wall of the waiting area. Stark had painted the whole place a clean, utilitarian beige. Then he’d fitted every available space with black wall cabinets and other fixtures as needed, everywhere except in the sleeping room. He’d had the hardwood floors refinished throughout the house, too.

  She thought she might warm up the place with a darker shade of paint on the larger wall in the waiting area, and perhaps she could find a lamp to brighten up things. Next week promised to be busier because now that he had office help, people were making appointments for their small pets. Plus, her new computer would be delivered from Ardmore on Tuesday, so she could start keeping up with patient files for him. Still...

  Why not come in early on Monday morning and get the job done before he even showed up? It wouldn’t take long to paint that one wall, and he would be surprised. Besides, if the pattern held true, he wouldn’t complain—or likely even comment—once the change was made. Two or three hours should be plenty of time.

  She made her plans and gathered her supplies that afternoon, driving into Ardmore to purchase everything. Her dad felt well enough to ride along, though he stayed in the car while she went into the store to pick out paint. She chose a shade called Burnt Leather. While the clerk was mixing it, she picked up a kit that included all she needed to complete the job. Everything else she’d used at the veterinary clinic she’d brought from the ranch, but this she paid for herself. It would be her gift to Stark, a way to thank him for taking a chance on her.

  Rising before daylight on Monday, she dressed in her usual scrubs, then donned one of her dad’s oldest shirts for protection from splatters and tied a bandanna around her head before hurrying over to the veterinary clinic. She parked in front because it would be easier and quicker to haul in her supplies that way. There would be plenty of time to move the car around to the back before Stark came in that morning.

  She turned on the light in the waiting area and began moving the two side tables to the end of the counter that separated the receptionist’s desk from the waiting area. She set the vases atop the counter. Then she started moving the chairs lined up against the wall, stacking them in the far corner. She was lifting the third chair when Stark’s angry voice startled her.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She jumped back, catching the edge of the plastic roller pan with her foot. Thankfully, it was still empty of paint, but it flipped, sending brushes, masking tape and a stir stick flying. She clapped a hand to her chest, trying to calm her suddenly galloping heart.

  “You scared me.”

  “You scared me! I thought some thief was after drugs.”

  “No. I was just going to paint. Spruce up the place a bit.”

  He shoved a hand through hair already on end. That was when she realized he was standing there in bare feet, his jeans hastily pulled on, his T-shirt inside out. He obviously hadn’t shaved.

  “Do you have to change everything, Meredith?” he demanded. “And does it have to be done right away?”

  “I—I’m just trying to help,” she said lamely. “I didn’t realize you had a late call last night and would be sleeping over.”

  The dark slashes of his brows drew together. “Sleeping over? What do you mean sleeping over? I always sleep here.”

  She goggled at that. “Always?”

  Throwing his hands wide impatiently, he demanded, “Where else would I sleep?”

  Blinking at him, she ventured, “At home?”

  He looked at her like she’d suddenly sprouted a third eye in the center of her forehead. “This is my home.”

  Dumbfounded, she couldn’t speak or even seem to think for several seconds. Then suddenly everything toppled in on her at once.

  “But you don’t even have a kitchen here! Or a television o-or...anything.”

  “I don’t need that stuff,” he muttered, folding his arms.

  “But how do you eat?”

  “There’s a perfectly good diner right up the street,” he said, jerking his chin.

  She lifted her eyebrows at that. “Really? You eat there three times a day?”

  He made a scoffing sound. “I can’t remember the last time I ate three times in a day.”

  “Then why—”

  “It’s all I need,” he interrupted, dropping his arms.

  “All you need?” she asked softly. “Or all you’ll allow yourself?”

  “Now you’re just prying,” he retorted coolly, “not to mention keeping me from getting much-needed sleep! Will you get out of here? Your working hours are eight to five.”

  She saw it all clearly then, the lengths to which he went to punish himself. The question was, how far would he go to punish her if she actually did improve things around here? Well, let him do his worst—stubborn, foolish, silly man. She wasn’t going to stand by and let him wallow in undeserved guilt.

  Inclining her head, she calmly said, “Yes, sir.”

  She bent to pick up a brush, but he barked, “Leave it!”

  Snatching back her hand, she swept out the door and into her car. So much for her gesture of gratitude. She supposed she should be thankful he hadn’t fired her on the spot.

  She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the first tear drip off her chin
and plop onto her chest. Then she had to decide why she was crying.

  Because Stark had yelled at her?

  No. She’d had irascible doctors yell at her plenty of times. It came with the job.

  Because he wasn’t as appreciative of her efforts as she’d hoped?

  No. She’d known he might be hiding his irritation, and she couldn’t be anything but pleased by his thoughtfulness and patience.

  She cried because he seemed intent on punishing himself for the deaths of his family. Stark’s life consisted of work and nothing more. He didn’t even allow himself the barest of creature comforts. The man showered outside, for pity’s sake! She hated to think of him eating all of his meals at the diner. Their food was bland at best. That had to have gotten old very fast. Yet, what were his options? There was a microwave on the premises for warming things, but he couldn’t cook much in that, and she hadn’t seen any dishes or kitchenware of any kind in the place. No wonder he was so slender.

  What a sad, lonely, uncomfortable way to live.

  All this time she’d been trying to fix up the clinic when what was really needed was a cure for the doctor.

  All right, Lord, she prayed silently, I get it now, so show me the cure and how to give it to him. It won’t be easy, but You can do it. I’ll help. Whatever You want me to do, I’ll do it. For him and for You.

  Chapter Seven

  She came back with breakfast. Astounded after the way he’d practically tossed her out on her ear earlier, Stark grumbled, but he didn’t have the heart to turn away her offering, especially as the oatmeal still steamed, teeming with plump cranberries and crisp walnuts. She’d brought butter, cinnamon and brown sugar to top it off, along with a thermos of black coffee and a container of juice. He wouldn’t find anything to touch such a breakfast at the diner and ate the whole enormous bowlful in mere minutes. Afterward, he had to stop himself from licking the bowl. That Callie could sure cook.

  By way of apology for growling at her earlier, he finished moving the furniture in the waiting area out of the way so she could paint, though he shuddered to think what color might wind up on his wall. He returned late that evening, pleasantly surprised to find the waiting area wall a rich brown. The framed photos she’d hung looked especially good now, and he wondered where she’d gotten the black wrought-iron lamp with the leather shade.

  He went into his bedroom and found an old quilt, soft with age, draped across the foot of his bed, a rag rug on the floor. The Straight Arrow must be practically denuded by now, though he didn’t remember seeing any of the things around here in the ranch house. He shook his head against the smile tugging at the corners of his lips and went to gather clean clothes so he could shower.

  She showed up early with breakfast every other morning that week. He stopped even planning to go to the diner for that meal, but her generosity came with a price. How could he not tell her that he liked the paint color she’d chosen and the other changes she’d made around the place? So, of course, she made a few more changes.

  His shabby bedroom curtains disappeared and new ones took their place. Then she painted a wall in his room the same color as the wall in the waiting area, and the next thing he knew silk sunflowers were poking up out of the vases in the waiting area and a long, embroidered cloth graced the top of his dresser. The place started to smell like cinnamon instead of antiseptic.

  He was still busy, but life had calmed somewhat, and he found himself getting home earlier. Stranger still, he was happier to get there. He had time to read some of the journals and articles that he’d neglected and needed to keep up with.

  The computer had arrived. The phone had been hooked up, and he’d realized that it would be a good idea to have internet service. That’s when Meri had pointed out that he could download TV programs and movies to watch on his computer. Suddenly, relaxation seemed a definite possibility.

  “You could get another refrigerator, too,” she said. He had one strictly for medications and samples that needed cooling. “Put it in your room, keep milk, cheese, fruit and lunch meat. You wouldn’t have to eat out every meal.”

  “I don’t eat out every meal now,” he pointed out, cutting a look at her from the corner of his eye.

  “You could eat out less.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He was seeing a sick calf halfway to Ardmore that afternoon and decided he could use her help with it. She seemed pleased that he took her along and was as much help as he’d expected, which meant that he finished quickly, so he drove on to the appliance store. The smile she gave him was worth the price of the small refrigerator she picked out. She babbled so happily about what an asset the refrigerator would be that the clerk naturally assumed they were a couple setting up housekeeping.

  “We’re not married,” Meredith said, but then color bloomed in her cheeks as she realized the implications of that. “I mean, he isn’t...”

  Stark cleared his throat, coming to her rescue. “Nurse Billings. Would you wait in the truck while I take care of this?”

  “Yes, Doctor. Thank you.”

  He used his remote to open the cab for her, paid for the refrigerator with a company credit card and walked out to join her. She sat staring through the passenger window. Taking his time starting up the engine, he waited, but she didn’t even acknowledge his presence until he quipped, “That’s not my foot in your mouth.”

  She glared at him. And then she laughed. Laughing along with her felt good.

  The next morning she brought in a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, along with a bag of groceries to stock the fridge.

  “Can you stay a little late today?” he asked, taking the extra chair she’d placed at the receptionist’s desk for him.

  “Sure.”

  Nodding, he tucked into the food. “They’re installing another carport this afternoon, and they might not be finished by the time you leave. I need you to sign off on the job.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll be out at the ranch this morning checking on Soldier. I can let them know you might be late, if you want.”

  “That’ll work.”

  “Two surgeries scheduled Monday,” he reminded her.

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “And, um, I might need your help tomorrow. With a pair of goats.”

  “Goats. So in the field.”

  “Better wear jeans and boots. And maybe bring a change of clothes. These particular goats don’t react well to bright colors. Or men.”

  “Okay.”

  He finished his breakfast, got up and gathered his jacket and hat. They were going into the middle of November, and the weather had turned nippy.

  “How much do I owe you for the groceries?” he asked lightly.

  She shook her head. “That’s all right.” Her hand sneaked up to pat the pocket in the top of her gaily printed scrubs.

  “Look, borrowing stuff from the ranch house is one thing. I can even handle you carrying in breakfast, but I draw the line at groceries. Where’s the receipt?” he asked firmly. She looked down at her toes. “Am I going to have to search your pockets?” Suddenly, he very much wanted to search her pockets. Rocked by the impulse, he stepped back.

  Her gaze moving up, she pulled the folded slip of paper from her pocket. Careful not to let their fingers touch, he took it from her, noted the amount and passed it back to her.

  He walked out then, muttering, “Call if you need me.”

  What had possessed him to threaten to search her? After what she’d been through, that was the last thing he should do. After what he’d been through, it was the last thing he should want to do. He wouldn’t be surprised if she quit that afternoon.

  But she wouldn’t.

  Wrinkling his forehead in confusion, he snugged on his hat and threw on his jacket before goi
ng out to his truck. He didn’t know how he knew, but Meredith wouldn’t quit on him. Even if he’d quit on himself, she wouldn’t. He didn’t know how he felt about that. He didn’t want to know how he felt about that.

  Thankfully, the day got busy in a hurry. Before he even got to his first appointment, Meri called to say that a fence had broken and a cow had been hit by a car. She’d already let his regularly scheduled appointment know he’d be late. Sadly, he couldn’t do anything but put down the animal. The day fell into a fast-paced rhythm, but he was only about a quarter-hour off schedule when he reached the Straight Arrow.

  Going to the stable first, he checked out Soldier and found him recovering nicely. He went to the house to suggest to Wes that the horse be turned out for exercise. Wes, too, looked better than the last time Stark had seen him.

  “I’m about ready to be turned loose myself,” he announced happily. “Dr. Shorter says I can attend church on Sunday.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “By Thanksgiving we’ll get our first inkling whether this cure has taken. Meri says the chances are good.”

  “I’d think she would be the authority on it,” Stark said.

  “Absolutely. She’s read up on it. She’s reading up on animal medicine now, you know.”

  Stark hadn’t known, but it made sense. “She’s made lots of...improvements around the clinic.” He’d almost said changes, but improvements was the truth.

  “She makes improvements everywhere she goes,” Wes declared, smiling.

  Stark soon took his leave. As he was going through the kitchen, he stopped to speak to Callie.

  “I want to thank you for sending breakfast with Meri every day. You really don’t have to do that.”