Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I’ve just turned the corner when I see Tucker jogging my way, his handsome face set in a scowl.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need you to come in the barn, please.”
“Of course. Come on, Sylvester.” I shoo the cat out, close the gate behind me, and jog with Tucker back to the barn. “What’s up?”
“Ellie has a lame foot,” he says, and I can hear the concern in his voice. “She’s favoring the front right foot and is agitated.”
“Let’s have a look.” I immediately walk right into the stall and run my hands over her flank. She gives a little shiver. “Something’s hurting you, huh, pretty girl? Let’s figure it out.”
Tucker stands with me and helps me get her foot up, and I know exactly what’s wrong.
“Get the farrier,” I tell him sharply. “She has a nail bind from that asshole, Peter. This shoe needs to be removed now.”
“On it,” he says, already pulling out his phone, and as he talks to the person on the other end of the line, I coo at the horse, reassuring her that we’ll get her fixed up.
“I’ve never had this happen,” he says when he rejoins me. “But it’s always been George to work on the horses.”
“Peter was more worried about looking at my ass than he was taking care of these horses. I’ll want to look at everyone else after we get her squared away.”
Tucker shakes his head and rubs his hand over the back of his neck.
“Just so you’re aware, I’ve had cameras installed in the barn and around the property.”
I blink over at him. “Why?”
“In case anything like that happens again, I’ll have proof.”
To my surprise, I already hear tires on the gravel outside. “That was fast.”
“He was at a neighboring ranch,” Tucker replies and walks out to greet George, who’s frowning when he joins me in the stall.
He nods at me, and then looks over Ellie’s foot and swears under his breath.
“What a shit job,” he mutters, and gets to work removing her shoe. As he does that, I rush out to grab my bag and some water, towels, and wound dressings. When I step back into the stall, George is just pulling the shoe off and puss oozes out of the nail hole once it’s removed, and Ellie shakes her head.
“I know, sweet girl,” I tell her, rubbing her neck. “We’ll get it feeling better.”
When George stands back, I get to work. I flush out the wound, and when it runs clear, I pack it with a warm poultice, then wrap it up so it stays clean.
“I’ll change this every day. She’ll be shoeless on this foot until it’s healed, and until then, she’s in the stall for rest.”
Tucker nods, watching me, and then the farrier and I check her other feet, which seem to be fine.
We make our way through the rest of the barn, and thankfully all the other shoes seem to also be set correctly.
“Poor Ellie,” I murmur, shaking my head. “That’s on me. I should have checked them.”
“No, that’s on Peter,” George says, still scowling. “Fuck, I’m sorry Tucker. He’s been fired, of course. Call me if you need anything, and I’ll check in to see if she’s ready for a new shoe next week.”
George leaves, and I glance back and see Tucker’s face is still as pissed as I’ve ever seen him.
“She’s going to be okay,” I tell him. “We caught it early. She’ll have another shoe on in about a week or so, and you’ll never know anything was wrong.”
“Yeah.” He blows out a breath and pulls me in for a hug. “Thanks. I’m glad you were here. Are you enjoying your greenhouse?”
“It’s your greenhouse that I’m borrowing, and yes, I’m enjoying it very much. Sylvester helped me all morning.”
I wander down to the stall with the kittens and kneel beside the box where the little ones are moving about. Their eyes are slitted open, but they’re still pretty weak, and I wonder where Tom went.
“Tom’s an absent parent,” Tucker says, shaking his head. “I swear, she’s gone more than she’s in here.”
“They’re fine. They’re all healthy and sassy. She knows what she’s doing. She’s probably out there hunting for her lunch.”
“Her lunch is in a bowl in the corner.”
I snort and walk with him out of the barn. “Do you need me for anything else?”
“No, go back to enjoying the garden. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so you should have fun today.”
“I’m on call, so if I have to rush off, I’ll text you.”
I go to walk away, but he pulls me in close and covers my mouth with his.
“What if you don’t get called out?” he asks.
“I plan to bake this afternoon,” I reply, leaning into him. “There’s a crème brûlée recipe I want to try. With huckleberries. Because Montana.”
He smirks and brushes his lips over my forehead. “I’ll grill steaks for dinner.”