Page 19 of For Him

The moment his face fell in shock, I knew he was thinking the same thing as I was. “When you go out, you check every single pasture for more locoweed. Collect what you can and advise Weston to call the livestock agent in town.”

I nodded, his reply confirming the crazy theory that was running through my mind.

“Knowing Weston though, he’s probably already thought of the very thing you and I are suspicious of. My money has it that the livestock agent already knows, and he’s begun moving his cattle into pastures that have been confirmed cleared,” Doc continued, leaning against the frame as I tilted my head.

“Doc?” What I wanted to ask was a side note, not entirely related to the cattle issue, and he somehow knew.

“Yes?”

“You’ve met Weston.”

“Of course I’ve met Weston. I’ve been the only vet here for twenty years.”

I furrowed my brows. “Then why is it that, from what I gather, no one knows who he actually is? Plus there’s all these rumors about him being scary?”

Doc chuckled, and then his belly rolled as the chuckle became a full laugh. “Oh the rumors. I’ve heard so many different things over the years. The Dukes have always kept more to themselves, but the stories they tell about this generation makes me chuckle. Apparently, some believe his face is so mangled that he has to wear a prosthetic to function normally. Others say he’s missing limbs. There’s even a rumor that he’s blind since both eyes were damaged beyond repair.”

“Blind?!” I snorted.

“And mute,” he added.

I sighed as the laughter ebbed away. “Why doesn’t he come to town and stop the rumors. Show them that he’s a normal guy?”

Doc sighed. “I think that’s something you’ll have to ask him. Although if I’m being honest, I think he finds some humor in them.”

The door to my right swung open, and Elena popped her head in from the main entrance. “Doc Mayn, your next patient is here!” She smiled as I straightened the white coat around my shoulders.

“I’ll be right there,” I happily replied and she disappeared once more.

“Before you go to the ranch, you should brush your hair,” Doc muttered as I turned away.

I whipped my head back in his direction and scowled. “I’m putting a hat on over it, so it’s fine.”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling, and disappeared back into his office as I ran a hand over my frizzy bun. As long as I didn’t see Cassidy, it shouldn’t matter if my bun was frizzy or not. Honestly, even if I did see him, it wouldn’t matter. I wasn’t trying to impress any of them. Was I?

Chapter 10

The sky was looking even more dismal as I turned off of the main road and onto the crudely plowed Duke Ranch driveway. Yet, despite the darkening gray overcast, I found a peaceful beauty in the snow-covered trees glistening around me. Surrounding the drive, enclosing me in tendrils of frozen charm as I climbed farther towards a realm of hidden perfection.

As I rounded the last corner and emerged upon the pristine landscape of smooth, untouched snow spotted amongst herds of cattle and the row of buildings, I noticed an immense amount of activity. Several throngs of cattle were being slowly driven down towards the homes, pocketing into what I imagined was a safer and warmer section of the ranch to buckle down for winter.

My little car, with the donut tire, still carrying me to my destinations, slid into a spot next to the same dually that had been sitting in my parents’ driveway just last night. I put the vehicle into park and took a steadying breath, reminding myself that I owed them an apology, but couldn’t seek it out. Not right now. The priority would be Eugene and making sure that Weston was taking precautions.

Grabbing the medical bag that I’d stuffed with any necessary equipment I might possibly need from my passenger seat, I stepped out into the bitter cold. The chill bit through my stained sweatshirt that I tugged tighter to my body. Setting the bag on the roof of my car, I dove into the back seat and grabbed the thick, black coat and matching beanie I’d tossed in there earlier this week. As I had told Doc, I just snuggled the hat over my crazy bun, slammed the door closed, grabbed my bag from the roof of the car, and turned around.

And screamed.

Throwing the only weapon I had in my hands forward, the medical bag slammed into the chest of the figure who had silently approached me from behind. Weston caught it with a grunt, and a subtle, crooked smile crossed his face. There was speckled frost at the tips of his mustache, his large hands covered in those worn yellow gloves. He was sporting a brown Carhartt coat with a hoodie and several layers underneath.

I rolled my eyes and held out a hand. “Can I please have that back?” I asked.

He chuckled. “No.”

“Excuse me?” I shoved my palms against my hips, feeling the cold from the wet ground already seeping through the worn soles of my hiking boots. At least I’d put on some wool tights beneath my cargo pants today.

“You heard me,” he replied and lowered the bag to one side.

“That’s not yours.”