Page 17 of Saddles and Snowstorms
I nodded, carefully opening my bag and extracting a pair of latex gloves. “Let’s see what’s going on with you, girl.” I approached slowly, my movements deliberately calm and measured.
As I ran my hands down Whiskey’s right foreleg, I could feel Colt and Caroline watching me intently. The mare shifted nervously but allowed my examination, her large brown eyes watching me warily.
“How long have you had her?” I asked, gently lifting the hoof to examine it.
“Three years,” Caroline answered. “Best barrel racer I’ve ever trained. We’ve got regionals in three weeks.”
I nodded, probing carefully around the coronet band, feeling for heat or swelling. Whiskey flinched when my fingers found a tender spot just above the hoof.
“There it is,” I murmured, more to myself than to them. I set the hoof down gently and reached into my bag for my hoof testers.
“Is it serious?” Caroline’s voice had lost some of its edge, revealing genuine concern beneath her tough exterior.
“Can’t say for certain yet, but I’m suspecting an abscess.” I positioned the testers and applied gentle pressure around the hoof, methodically working my way across. When I hit a certain spot, Whiskey jerked her leg and gave a soft whiny of protest.
“There we go,” I said, patting her neck reassuringly. “Definitely an abscess. Good news is, with proper treatment, she should recover in time for regionals.”
The relief on Caroline’s face was immediate, though she tried to hide it. “What’s the treatment plan?”
I reached into my bag for the tools I’d need. “I’ll need to open it up, drain it, then we’ll do a poultice and wrap. You’ll need to change the wrapping daily and keep her stall clean and dry.”
“I can handle that,” Caroline nodded firmly.
As I worked, Colt leaned against the stall door, watchingmy hands with interest. “You’ve got a gentle touch, Doc. Those city folks must’ve hated to lose you.”
I snorted, focusing on the abscess. “Trust me, they didn’t.”
“Their loss is our gain,” he replied, his voice dropping low enough that Caroline couldn’t hear. “Especially for those of us who appreciate a man who’s good with his hands.”
I kept my eyes on Whiskey’s hoof, trying not to react to his flirtation. I’d heard about Colt’s reputation from Lucas, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely. The man radiated confidence and charm like heat from a furnace.
“So, this Eli you mentioned,” I said, carefully applying pressure to drain the abscess, “is he around today?”
Caroline snorted. “Probably still in bed with his fancy silk sheets. Man doesn’t know what to do with himself out here in Sagebrush after his high-flying Dallas life.”
“He’s not that bad. He just likes to sleep in. I do too, in fact,” Colt said, his eyes never leaving my face. “We’re having dinner down at the diner tonight with Beau, Lucas, Logan, and Dakota. You should join us.”
I glanced up, catching his gaze. There was something inviting there beyond simple flirtation, it was an olive branch of friendship offered my way. I had a feeling that I wasn’t the only one in Sagebrush yearning for community and Colt, it seemed, felt the same way. Besides, I’d never say no to compliments from a man as handsome as him, even if he was taken.
“I’ve got some evening appointments,” I lied, returning my attention to Whiskey. The abscess was already draining quickly, the relief evident on the horse’s face. “But I could probably find some time to swing out there. What time?”
“Seven sharp,” Colt replied, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. “Dolly’s Diner. Best steak you’ll ever have.”
“I’ve been there quite a bit actually,” I admitted, carefully applying the poultice to Whiskey’s hoof. The mare had already relaxed, the pain clearly subsiding. “Everything I’ve tried is great so far.”
Caroline crossed her arms, watching me work. “You know those boys will talk your ear off all night, right? Fair warning.”
“I think I can handle it,” I said, wrapping the hoof with practicedefficiency. “Been pretty quiet around here otherwise. Might be nice to have some actual conversation.”
“Quiet?” Colt laughed. “Wait ‘til you hear what happened at the Founder’s Day dance last year. Lucas got so drunk he?—”
“Hush,” Caroline cut him off. “Save the gossip for dinner. Some of us have work to do.” But there was a fondness in her tone that took any sting out of her words.
I finished wrapping Whiskey’s hoof and stood up, brushing hay from my jeans. “Keep this clean and dry. Change the poultice tomorrow morning, then again tomorrow night. I’ll stop by Wednesday to check her progress.”
Caroline nodded, patting the mare’s neck. “Appreciate it, Doc. What do we owe you?”
As I gave her the details and wrote up a quick invoice, Colt pushed off from the stall door and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of tanned, muscled abdomen. I caught myself staring and quickly looked away, but not before he noticed, his smile widening.
