The Doctor's Calling. Stella Bagwell

people and things that would frazzle the nerves of a saint, but this place and all the animals—who will care for them? You’ve been here—”

      “I don’t need for you to tell me how long I’ve been here, Laurel. The floors in this old building are stained with my blood and sweat. But that’s soon ending. I’ll be leaving the end of next week. And Dr. Brennan will be taking over shortly afterward. So there’s no need for you to worry. The horses from the track and all the other animals around here won’t go without a vet.”

      But what about her? What about the long, arduous hours she’d invested in this clinic? In him? Were they all for naught? She wanted to fling the questions at him.

      This isn’t about him or what he means to you, Laurel. This is about your job, your livelihood, the sum of what makes up your life. This isn’t about your personal feelings.

      Russ was a demanding boss who spoke bluntly and, more often than not, took her for granted. But he was also honest and fair. And where animals were concerned, his heart was as big as Texas. It wasn’t enough for him to simply cure a patient from illness or injury. He always went a step further to make sure the animal would remain healthy and happy. There was never a time he put himself before the welfare of his patients. She admired him greatly, and though he often irked her with his caustic tongue, once she’d begun working for him, she’d never considered working for anyone else. She was hopelessly devoted and attached to the man.

      Suddenly feeling weak in the knees, Laurel sank into one of the hard metal chairs that were normally reserved for pet owners. But it was eight o’clock at night—far past closing hours—and the building was empty, except for him, her and the few cats and dogs that remained at the clinic for more extensive care.

      “I see,” she said, her voice low and hoarse, then asked, “Does Dr. Brennan have an assistant?”

      Shrugging, he leaned back in the wide leather chair, and the indifference she saw on his face made her wish she had the guts to reach over and pop her palm against his jaw.

      “I haven’t questioned the man about his staff,” he said frankly. “That’s his business.”

      After five years, Laurel was used to his curtness, and most of the time she ignored it. But his announcement had knocked her for a loop. She wasn’t in any mood for sarcasm.

      Her back teeth grinding together, she quickly rose to her feet. “Well, did you ever think it might have been more thoughtful to let me in on this a bit sooner? Jobs aren’t exactly hanging from tree limbs right now. But I suppose I’m just an afterthought in all of this.”

      He arched a brow at her. “Sit down.”

      The quietly spoken command made her hackles rise. “Why? I still have work to do before we close up. And I’d like to get to bed before midnight.”

      “I’m not finished with this conversation yet. That’s why.” He pointed to the vacated chair as though she was a child instead of a thirty-year-old woman, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what an ass he could sometimes be. After all, her job was coming to an end. But what else could he do to her, she asked herself. Fire her before the week was out? The thought sent a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in her throat, and she realized she was very close to breaking down in front of this man who had little to no patience for weakness in human beings. Yet he had a massive heart where animals were concerned.

      Biting back a weary sigh, she sank into the stillwarm seat. “Okay. Lay it on me,” she invited with a fatal dose of sarcasm.

      He frowned. “First of all, I didn’t share all of this with you earlier, because I knew you’d be upset.”

      She sputtered in disbelief. “Upset! That’s putting it mildly. I’m going along thinking my job is secure and you spring this on me! Wouldn’t any normal person be upset?”

      He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she suddenly felt his gaze roaming her face and hair. She had no doubt her gray eyes were sparking fire and her cheeks were pink. As for the rest of her, she was certain she looked as tired as she felt. Her long chestnut hair had loosened from its thick, single braid and now hung raggedly against the front of her left shoulder. What little makeup she’d applied this morning had been washed away by the early-morning drizzle that had fallen while she and Russ had trudged into a cattle pen to treat a bull with an infected horn. Her blue jeans and green-plaid flannel shirt could no longer be deemed clean, and her black cowboy boots were caked with dried red mud.

      It was rare that Russ ever took the time to really look at her, and Laurel never fussed with her appearance. Not for him or any man. But now as she faced him in the dimly lit office, she realized his warm brown eyes made her feel quite uncomfortable and very much like a woman.

      Since he was making no effort to speak, she decided to do it for him, saying, “Don’t bother to answer. I shouldn’t have said any of that. This is your clinic. What you do or don’t do with it is entirely your business. I’m just an employee.”

      So why did she feel like so much more? she wondered, her spirits as dead as the potted plant in the window behind his head. Maybe it was the fifty or sixty hours she spent every week with this man. Maybe it was the emotional ups and downs she’d gone through as the two of them had lost and saved animals of all types, ages and sizes.

      A grimace creased his broad forehead and pressed his hard lips into a crooked line. “Do you think you can manage to be quiet for two minutes?”

      “I don’t know,” she quipped. “Do we have the time to do a test?”

      He tossed down the pen and used the hand to rake a path through his sandy-blond hair. “If you’d shut up, I might be able to explain that I’ve not forgotten you in all of this. Do you think I’d just heartlessly dismiss you without any warning?”

      She didn’t think he was heartless. He showed love and kindness to the animals every day. Just not to her. But then, he wasn’t that sort of man. And she was his assistant, not his girlfriend, she reminded herself.

      Swallowing a sigh, she blurted, “I’ve never been able to read your mind. So I can hardly know what’s in it now.”

      His nostrils flaring, he darted her a sharp look. “Good thing,” he muttered, then shook his head with something like self-disgust. “I don’t know why in hell I’ve put up with you all these years. Or why in hell I want you to go with me. You’re a pain. A big, fat pain. But the truth is I don’t want to work without you.”

      That last shocking remark straightened her spine and scooted her butt to the edge of the chair. “Work! Without me? What are you talking about?”

      “The Chaparral,” he snapped with impatience. “I want you to remain my assistant. I will need one there. Or hadn’t that crossed your mind?”

      All sorts of things had been rolling through her mind these past few minutes, she thought. But nothing like this!

      She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “It’s been less than five minutes since you’ve sprung this news on me. I haven’t had time to think about anything!”

      He deliberately swung his attention to the clock on his desk. Once the second hand made a complete sweep of the numbers, he said, “Okay. You’ve had five minutes now. What do you think?”

      Her insides were suddenly trembling, and she quickly clasped her hands together to keep them from outwardly shaking.

      “First of all, the Cantrells offered you a job. Not me. And secondly, the ranch is several miles west of Ruidoso, and part of the trip is over rough, graveled road. The commute there would take at least forty-five minutes one way. That’s—”

      “The Cantrells have already agreed to hire you—if you want the job,” he quickly interrupted. “And you wouldn’t be commuting. You’d be living there—on the ranch. Just like I will be.”

      He was leaving his large home in the suburbs and moving to the ranch? And the Cantrells were offering her a job and a place