Page 56 of High Density

“Oh, I thought I saw you talking to him. Well, I hope he finds it. See you later.”

I immediately turn to head back to the improvised clinic, remembering clearly how I saw Jericho in what appeared to be a heated discussion with Mackey on the far side of the holding pens this morning.

I wonder why the man is lying.

Chapter Seventeen

Janey

“Careful, Doc.”

One of Mackey’s wranglers came and got me to come check out a bull.

The animal—going by the name of Crusher—is as menacing as his moniker promises. Already agitated from his performance, and the injury he sustained in his groin when trying to climb the fence exiting the arena, he’s none too pleased being contained in the chute. His nostrils flare red as he snorts and huffs, trying to fight his way out of the constraints.

I’m hanging almost upside down over the side of the chute, trying to use a squirt bottle of distilled water to clean the tear in the bull’s tender skin. Luckily it was a fairly straight tear and not gaping wide open. I should be able to use a wound sealant, preferable to stitches, since those would require some kind of sedation in order to safely get between the animal’s rear legs.

“Can you hand me the can of KeriCure from my kit?”

I’m in a good position to see what I’m doing now and would prefer not to move too much and risk riling up the cranky bull even further. As it is, I’ll have to stick my arm between his legs to get close enough to the wound. As soon as the sealant spray hits that bull in the tenders, he’s gonna buck hard, and I’m going to have to get my arm out of the way fast.

“This is a one-shot deal,” I tell the guy when he hands me the can. “That bull is gonna jump and I don’t want him injuring himself even more. So, as soon as I hit him with the spray, you release the front gate so he can take off to his pen, instead of getting himself tangled up in the chute.”

“Ready?” I call out when I’ve lowered myself into an even more precarious position.

“Yup.”

I blow out a breath to try and calm my nerves; I may be used to handling cattle, but a pissed-off bull isn’t a daily occurrence.

Then I slowly reach my arm underneath the animal, trying hard not to brush against his legs. The moment I hit the nozzle on the spray, he kicks out as predicted.

“Now!” I yell, trying to retrieve my arm and only partially succeeding.

One of the hooves hits me, knocking the can out of my hand as Crusher bolts out of the chute. I scramble down from the fence and immediately check myself for injuries. It hurts like a sonofabitch, and likely will be swollen and bruised by bedtime, but it doesn’t look like anything’s broken.

“That was a damn fool stunt.”

I swivel around to find JD approaching. He immediately reaches for my hand, which is already starting to puff up, and studies it carefully.

“It’s fine. Trust me, I’ve been stomped on and kicked at more than I care to admit, and this is nothing.”

His dark eyes snap up and meet mine. After a quiet stare down, he wisely chooses to abandon that particular subject. I’ll do what I have to do to get the job done, whether he likes it or not. His work can be dangerous, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate me questioning his methods.

Still, he can’t quite keep his protective instincts in check.

“You were supposed to stay with Logan at the corral.”

I take in a deep, steadying breath before I answer, even though my natural inclination would be to bite his head off.

“I was called away to tend to an injured animal, which is myjob,” I remind him.

Unfortunately, JD doesn’t seem to read the warning signs and digs in his heels.

“Still, you shouldn’t have gone off by yourself. You’re not safe.”

“I wasn’t exactly by myself,” I fire back, grinding my teeth.

Part of me recognizes the stress of the past few days is probably taking its toll on both of us, and today’s added concerns around the missing woman has us all on edge, but that doesn’t give him a license to treat me like I’m an idiot.

---