LITMIR.BIZ

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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.

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