Page 99 of His Tenth Dance

She recognized the tone before she saw his face, and she swallowed quickly as she lifted her head up. “Hello, Carl,” she said. “How are?—?”

“Hello?” he barked out. “How dare you try to pretend nothing has happened between us?” He puffed up his chest and took a demanding step forward.

“Hey, now,” Mission said, moving to stand partially in front of her. “Back up.”

“Mission,” Kristie said quietly.

“She’s a fraud,” Carl said, his voice growing louder. “Came out to the ranch to work with my cattle—charged me a metric ton of money—and my cows are still sick.”

“This is not the place for this,” Mike said.

Carl took another step forward as pure humiliation streamed through Kristie.

“Back. Up.” Mission’s fingers curled into fists, and Kristie tugged on his arm.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“You said you couldn’t come until Monday,” Carl said, glaring at her past Mission’s shoulder. “And you’re here? My cattle are sick.”

“You’re here too,” Mission said. “If they were that sick, you’d be back home with them.”

“Who are you?” Carl demanded.

“And if they were that sick,” Mission said, his voice rising too. “Kris would be there too. I’ve seen her rush off to care for any number of animals, and I don’t appreciate you insinuating that she’s not a good vet.”

“I can insinuate anything I want,” Carl bellowed.

“Folks,” a security officer said, and Kristie looked around, horrified when she saw a few people recording the exchange. “You’re going to have to take this somewhere else.”

“I will!” Carl yelled as the security officer nudged him away from Mission. He backed up then, thankfully, but he still yelled, “I’m going to file a report against Kristie Higgins—and no one should ever use her as a vet! They have to learn they can’t get away with just writing prescriptions andabandoningtheir clients.”

“Let’s go,” Mission barked, and he grabbed Kristie’s arm and hauled her away from the scene.

“I didn’t,” she stammered as her feet somehow moved with him. “I didn’t do that, Mission.”

“I know that,” he growled, and she pulled her arm away as plenty of people kept staring at her—at both of them. “I wanted to hit that guy so bad.”

Kristie shook from head to toe, and she made up an excuse and ducked into the bathroom, where she locked herself in the privacy of a stall and pressed her back to it as if she could keep the world out that way.

She couldn’t, and this time, she also couldn’t just pack up and leave town.

How humiliating, she thought as tears spilled down her face. She had no idea how to go back out there and face Mission, face her friends, face anyone at all.

Her name had been screamed through the parking lot, and that couldn’t be called back. She knew better than most that the truth didn’t matter—what people believed was what mattered, and all of those people had heard Carl Levan call her dishonest.

She stayed in the stall until she heard Gerty say, “Kristie, you have to come out.”

She did, and she kept her face averted and used a wet paper towel to wipe the evidence of her tears from her face. She slid her stone mask into place and went with a very concerned Gerty out to the auction.

She sat next to Mission, unfeeling, silent, and miserable. After a while, he tapped her leg and tilted his phone toward her.

Do you still want to go out tonight?

She did and she absolutely didn’t. Tears pricked her eyes, and she shook her head. She took his phone and typed into the notes app where he had.

Maybe we could just go back to my house, and I could give you my gifts.

He took the phone.That guy means nothing, Kris.

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