He ought to get down in the dirt beside her. That would be
the right thing to do. But the fun thing was to watch the
good doctor try to wrestle the brindle calf into
submission.
Yeah, the right thing would be to help her out because she
was definitely going down for the count. But she had told
him to stay back, he reasoned. And the view of Alison
Samuels's tidy little backside looked mighty fine from
where he stood. Mighty fine.
John Tyler thumbed back his Resistol and hitched a dusty
boot on the bottom rail of his dry lot fence. Crossing his
arms over the top board, he settled in to watch the showโฆ
and a fine one it was proving to be, he thought with a
grin.
Damn, the doc was a tiny little thing. Cute as a button,
too,with her honey-blond hair pulled back in a long
animated ponytail. Like her, it had looked sleek and
professional when she'd answered his call this morning. It
didn't look that way now. Nothing about her did. Now, she
was a pretty, dirty mess. Despite the dust smearing cheeks
pinkened with heat and exertion and flyaway strands of
spun gold hair standing every which direction around her
face, she was the kind of mess that made a man think of
sweaty sheets, sultry sighs and a whole lot of pleasure
between midnight and morning.
He straightened, cleared his throat and tugged his hat
lower on his brow to cut the glare of the July sun. Then
he told himself to think about something besides Ali- son
Samuels's slim, bare limbs tangled with his. Something
like why a city woman would want to pick up and move from
Kansas City to Sundown, Montana, and take over old Doc
Sebring's vet practice. And why this par- ticular woman โ
who looked more predisposed to cocktail parties and little
black dresses than wrestling with livestock โ would make
the choice to set up shop in what most folks referred to
as north of nowhere, was as intriguing as hell.
It was almost as intriguing as her skintight Wranglers
that strained at the seams while she hunkered down, dug
her boot heels into the packed dirt, and tried to muscle
the calf into her way of thinking. It wasn't gonna hap-
pen. Not with that technique. In fact, it was pretty
apparent that up until this point in her vet career the
biggest thing she'd ever wrestled was most likely a fat
tabby with a hairball.
The brindle โ a good one hundred fifty pounds of ornery on
the hoof โ let out a P.O.'d bellow, swung his head around
and butted her under the chin. John winced then shook his
head. Oh, man. That had to hurt like blazes. He'd been on
the receiving end of one of those head butts. It was a
pretty good bet that Doctor Dish was riding a rising tide
of nausea and counting a sea of stars โ but she gritted
her teeth and hung on like a bull- dogger bent on winning
a championship rodeo buckle.
Grit. She had it in spades. She couldn't hide the pain in
her eyes, though, and when he saw it, he swore under his
breath and decided this was as far as he was willing to
let this fiasco go.
He swung himself up and over the fence, finessed the calf
into a headlock and threw him on his side.
"Didn't ask for your help." The doc grunted, a little
breathless, as she tugged the plastic cap off a syringe
with her teeth and quickly jabbed the antibiotic into the
wriggling animal's neck.
"And you obviously didn't need it." John tossed her a
congenial grin as he released the calf. "But I just
couldn't stand the idea of you having all that fun by
yourself."
He rose to his feet then brushed corral grime off his
jeans. Silver-blue eyes set in a face that made him think
of porcelain and princesses met his through the heat and
the dust as the calf ran, bawling, toward his anxious
mother.
Judging by the look in her eyes, the doc was considering
getting huffy. In the end, she just shook her head and
gave up a weary grin.
"Wellโฆfar be it from me to spoil a boy's fun." She capped
the needle, tossed it into her utility bucket and offered,
if not an exuberant, an appreciative but weary,
"Thanks."
Maybe it was the boy comment. Maybe it was her valiant
defiance even after the calf had gained the upper hand. Or
it could be it was just the pleasure of finally seeing her
smile โ even if it was a feeble effort. He was a sucker
for a beautiful woman's smile, and this woman's had him
asking a question he'd pretty much decided he wasn't going
to ask her again.
"How about you thank me by having dinner with me tonight?"
She didn't even blink as she gathered up her supplies and
headed for her truck, rinsed her hands in a bucket of
soapy water then hastily dried them on a towel. After
digging around in a refrigerated compartment in the vet
unit topping the pickup box, she found what she wanted
then filled two syringes with antibiotic.
"He'll need another dose tomorrow and one the day after,"
she said, handing him the medication. "If you don't see
any improvement by midweek next week, give me a call."
John slipped the syringes into his shirt pocket. "Can do.
Nowโฆabout dinner?"
Pointedly ignoring his question, she stowed her medical
supplies, shut the compartment and skirted around him
toward the truck's cab. "Have a good day, John," she said,
climbing behind the wheel.
He caught the door before she could shut it, then stood in
the opening, grinning up at her.
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