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Turn and Burn

Lorelei James


  “Oh, and I’ve been drinkin’.”

  “Then I’ll be sure not to let you drive.”

  Tanna laughed. “You’re a hard one to rattle.”

  You’ve rattled me since the moment we met. “Yep.” He hung up again.

  His cell rang fifteen seconds later. “This is Dr. Fletcher.”

  “I hate it when people hang up on me. Hate. It.”

  “So noted.”

  Silence.

  “Why aren’t you talking to me?” she demanded.

  “Sugar twang, you called me. So what do you wanna talk about?”

  “Nothin’. I just wanted to hang up on you first this time.” Click.

  He laughed. Hard. Such a crazy, funny, ornery woman.

  Fletch made it to the back side of the Split Rock in fifteen minutes. When he saw her leaning against the tailgate of her pickup, the sunlight glinting off her mahogany hair, her arms crossed over those ample breasts—pity that—his pulse sped up.

  She hoisted herself into his truck. “Monster rig you got here, Doc. I didn’t know you operated on elephants too.”

  “Gotta be a big rig. I’m a big guy, I work on big animals and I gotta have most my stuff with me.”

  “So what’s the surprise?”

  He whipped a U-turn. “Hey, Tanna. Damn, woman, you’re lookin’ fine. How’s your day been?” He peered at her over the tops of his sunglasses. “Go on. Take a stab at bein’ all polite and shit to me. I’ll wait.”

  Tanna smirked. “Why, August Fletcher, DVM, how very thoughtful of you to ask about my day—sucky day that it was. I’m glad you think I look fine. God knows my day is complete with that stunningly original and heartfelt compliment.”

  He laughed. “I figured you didn’t want me to confess you looked so tasty that I wanted to lick you up one side and down the other. Ending with my face buried between your amazing breasts. Then between your thighs.” He flashed another smile. “Bein’s we’re just friends and all.”

  She abruptly changed the subject. “What’s the surprise?”

  “You’re gonna help me with my last official vet duty today.”

  “Doin’ what?” she asked sharply. “Because if this is some sort of forced equine intervention you and Eli cooked up after my disastrous morning—”

  “Whoa, there. First off, I haven’t talked to Eli at all today, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Fletch wanted to look at her to gauge her facial expression but he refrained and kept his eyes on the road. “Secondly, I’m aware of your discomfort around horses right now, so do you really think I’d force your hand and put one of my client’s animals in danger? No, ma’am.”

  A few seconds passed before Tanna reached out and squeezed his forearm. “Sorry. I’m a little touchy if you hadn’t noticed. Especially after today.”

  “What happened?”

  “Eli eased me in to the horse pasture. Or he tried to. I panicked and fled, then berated myself for bein’ afraid of horses. It was . . . humiliating.”

  Fletch twisted his wrist to clasp her fingers in his. “You tried. That’s all you can ask of yourself.” Impulsively, he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “So no horses. This client we’re helping runs sheep. They’re Australian and do things a little differently than the Wyoming sheep raisers, in what’s predominantly cattle country. They’re more successful, which makes anyone suspect, right?”

  “Right.” Tanna relaxed and kept hold of his hand. “So, what’s different about these Aussie sheepherders?”

  “It’s two separate operations. They lamb twice a year, with two separate flocks.”

  “Smart. Continual income. Not all the ranchers in Texas calve in the spring. A lot of them calve late fall. Or spring and fall.”

  “These guys are brothers, who married sisters. They ran big sheep ranches Down Under and each had their own way of doin’ things. So Harland, the older brother, lambs late fall. And Kirk, the younger one, lambs early spring. Which means it’s time to preg test Kirk’s ewes.”

  She smiled so widely his damn breath caught in his throat. “That’s what you’re goin’ to do?”

  “What we’re gonna do. So I don’t wanna see you off frolicking with Harland’s little lambs when we’re on the clock.”

  “Wait. Will I be sticking my hand . . . ?”

  Fletch shook his head. “That’s the other way the Ludlows are different. We’ll use ultrasound on the ewes. Ewes are more prone to twins, or even triplets, and they can keep a better eye on those mamas needing extra feed, et cetera, if they know ahead of time about the multiples. Not many sheep ranchers utilize the service.”

  “I didn’t think sheep were part of a large animal practice.”

  “They aren’t. But the Ludlows had an emergency right after I opened my practice and I was the only vet who’d take their call. They’ve stayed loyal to me. It’s a nice change from working with mostly cows and horses. Keeps me on my toes.”

  “What else about them? You’ve got that sexy little smirk on your lips.”

  He shot her a grin. “You are picking up on some of my quirks already and I don’t know whether to be happy about that or nervous. Anyway, Harland and Kirk help out and provide sheep for the mutton bustin’ event at the Mountain Springs Indian Rodeo. At first no one wanted to supply stock and take it to the rez because of all the sovereign nation issues. The Ludlow brothers had no qualms. That earned my respect and gratitude.”

  Tanna frowned. “Sovereign nation issues? What’s that mean?”

  “To some it means anything you take to a reservation can be confiscated at any time by the tribe. So you can understand why few rodeo contractors want to take their prize horses and bulls to the rez.”

  “Does that happen often? The tribe just taking over someone else’s property?”

  “More often than you think, sadly. It’s better now than it used to be. The last couple years Renner has brought his best stock to the little rodeo. Before that . . . the rough stock wasn’t a challenge.”

  “How’s the barrel racing competition?”

  Fletch wondered if she’d ask. “Honestly? Dismal. One year there wasn’t a single entrant. The cowboys can just show up with their tack and climb on a bronc or a bull provided by the stock contractor. But given most Indians on the reservation live at poverty level, few of them have horses. If they do, they’re ranch horses, not specialized barrel racing horses.” He slowed and hung a left on a blacktop driveway that stretched into the distance. “Here we are.”

  “Wow. Successful sheep ranchers.”

  “Very. And two of the nicest families you’ll ever meet.” Fletch honked twice when he reached the two houses before he headed uphill to the chutes. In the rearview he saw kids and dogs chasing after his truck. He grinned. Guaranteed Miss Ellie would be put out that he’d brought Tanna as his helper.

  “God. Fletch. I don’t . . .”

  The panic in Tanna’s voice ripped him out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have no clue what I’m supposed to do to help you.”

  “I’ll tell you everything you need to know, okay?”

  She nodded, less than confidently, and bit her lip.

  Fletch wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss her. But that would fluster her, given they had an audience. “Let’s go. Meet me in the back and we’ll get supplies.”

  Soon as he exited the truck, he heard, “Doc Fletch!”

  “Heya, Harland Jr. What’s up?”

  “One of my rabbits had bunnies and that stupid mama fox got all of ’em but one to feed to her kits.”

  Better the fox was eating the rabbits than the lambs—not that Fletch could say that.

  “But me’n Dad are building a fox-proof cage,” he boasted.

  “Smart thinking.” He unlocked the back doors to his mobile medical office. Then Tanna was right there. “In that bag on the floor is everything we’ll need. But if you’d hop up and make sure there are enough gloves for both of us and syringes in case we n
eed ’em, I’d appreciate it.”

  “No problem.”

  Fletch usually kept this particular ultrasound machine at the office, but he’d loaded it first thing today. He set it on the ground and waited for Tanna to move before he locked up again. “Harland Jr. will lead the way to the chutes.”

  Tanna fell in step beside him. He explained the process and what she’d be doing. She nodded, asked a couple of questions and that was it.

  Harland Sr. and Kirk waved, leaving Fletch to his own devices. These ranchers didn’t hover or suggest or distract. They knew Fletch did his job efficiently if he wasn’t dealing with their constant interruptions. So he had to laugh when Kirk’s wife Betsy whistled shrilly and all the kids scattered.

  “How many ewes are you—I mean we—preg testing?”

  Fletch gestured to the full pen. “I’m guessing two hundred and fifty.”

  “So we’ll be here all night?”

  “Nope. It’ll take ninety minutes. Tops. If we don’t take a break. Two hours if we do.”

  Tanna smirked. “I’m fully rested. And I wanna see you in action, August Fletcher, DVM. Show me your stuff.”

  “Prepare to be wowed.” After she’d settled opposite him, he motioned to Renee, Harland’s wife, who was manning the chute, to open the gate.

  Then he slipped into professional mode and got to work.

  He didn’t realize how much time had passed, or how deep he’d gone into work zone, until Renee yelled, “Last one, Doc.”

  Tanna said, “Thank God.”

  “This mama’s carrying triplets.” The exit chute gate opened and the ewe trotted out. Fletch shut off the machine and stood, moving his neck side to side and then arching back.

  “I couldn’t believe how many multiples there are,” Tanna said after hopping over the metal corral to his side.

  “Too many isn’t a good thing. A huge percentage of triplet pregnancies end up with all three lambs lost as well as the ewe.”

  They walked in silence back to the vehicle and ditched the equipment.

  Fletch noticed Tanna was limping slightly. “Did you hurt yourself today?”

  That surprised her. “Not here. I fell in the pasture running away from the horses and wrenched my bad knee.”

  “Lemme look at it.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Then it oughtn’t be a big deal for me to take a look at it.” He pointed to the back of his truck. “Park it.”

  “Fletch—”

  “Now.”

  Tanna grumbled under her breath but she obeyed.

  He clamped her ankle between his thighs and curled his hands on her leg above her kneecap. “Is it a dull throb? Or a sharp, shooting pain?”

  “It fluctuates between both of those.”

  Fletch pushed her leg up slowly until the point she winced. “Sorry. Just needed to test your range of motion.” He forced himself to focus on the movement of her muscles and not how soft her skin felt beneath his hands. “Have you been having flare-ups from your previous injury?”

  “Some. But I don’t use the muscles in the same way at my new job. I’m standing or sitting or walking.”

  “You been keeping up with your physical therapy exercises since you moved here?”

  Tanna lifted her chin. “Not really.”

  Fletch got right in her face. “Wrong answer, sugar twang. From here on out I’m gonna make sure you use this time off from an injury . . . oh, to recover from that injury, by doin’ the exercises you’re supposed to.”

  “Like you’ve got time to be my personal PT/OT?” she scoffed.

  “I’ll make time. I’ve been an athlete all my life, so I have a pretty good idea of what the PT/OT were doin’ with you.”

  “Right. You’re an animal doctor.”

  “Humans were part of the animal kingdom the last time I checked. So indulge this backward country vet. Were these some of the exercises you’re supposed to be doin’?” He demonstrated six exercises and felt a little smug when she admitted he’d guessed correctly.

  But Tanna wasn’t done being snarky. “It’s pointless.”

  He locked his gaze to hers as his fingers gently massaged the inside of her thigh above her knee. “So if you brought your injured horse to me and I gave you instructions on strengthening and conditioning to stave off lameness, would you do it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then it makes no sense that you wouldn’t take care of yourself and follow your doctor’s instructions. Your agility ain’t something to be trifled with, Tanna. Promise me you’ll start doin’ your exercises again because I hate to see you hurting.”

  That was the right thing to say, because she sighed. “When you put it that way . . . okay. Thank you for the rubdown. It feels better already.”

  “Anytime.”

  Tanna slid out of the truck. “So, what happens now?”

  “The Ludlows will ask us to stay for supper. Up to you if we do.”

  “What would you do if I wasn’t here?”

  “I’d stay. Renee and Betsy are great cooks. The kids make me laugh. Harland and Kirk have a unique ag perspective, so I enjoy talking to them.”

  “Then we’ll stay.”

  Fletch looked at her and smiled. “Good. I’ll warn ya that Harland’s daughter Ellie might be hostile toward you.”

  “Got her sights set on you, does she?”

  “Yep. She’s assisted me many times and she’s made no bones about the fact she intends to marry me.”

  A pause. “Well, you are quite the catch, Doc.”

  Was it his imagination, or had Tanna gotten a little snippy? Was she jealous?

  Wishful thinking.

  “Let’s go wash up.” When they reached the pump, he warned her, “It’s erratic so watch out.”

  Tanna pushed up her sleeves and rolled her eyes. “Ain’t the first time I’ve pumped something.” She pulled on the handle, pumped it twice to get water flowing. She winked at him. “I’ll share my stream with you.”

  “Thoughtful.” Fletch cupped water and scrubbed his forearms. This was one of the cleaner jobs he’d done today. He rinsed and retreated, drying off with a disposable towel.

  Soon as she stepped closer to the trickle to rinse, water blasted out.

  She gasped and leapt back.

  Don’t laugh.

  “I see that I-told-you-so look on your face. Wipe it off right now.”

  Her shirt was wet enough the material clung to her breasts. And he didn’t pretend he wasn’t looking. “Appears you’re the one who could use some wiping off.” Fletch loomed over her. The small size of the towel meant he could feel the heat from her body as he dabbed the water droplets from her chin. Then her neck. The bottom of his hand rested on the firm swell of her breast as he slowly blotted the water from her chest.

  “I think you got it dry.”

  “So it appears I have.” He didn’t stop.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  Fletch put his mouth next to her ear. “Absolutely. I gotta take my thrills where I can get them with you.”

  “Not fair. The way you whisper in my ear does it for me every damn time.”

  His dick took note of that. “Tanna—”

  “Hey!” sounded behind them.

  He reluctantly stepped back and turned around.

  A pigtailed blond cowgirl of about eight stood opposite the pump with her hands on her hips. She stomped forward through the water, splashing mud everywhere as she glared at Tanna. “Who are you?”

  “Who are you?” Tanna shot back.

  “Ellie Ray Ludlow.”

  Tanna gave Fletch an amused smile. “I’m Tanna, Ellie, nice to meet you.”

  “Is she your assistant?” Ellie demanded of Fletch.

  “She was today.”

  “I woulda helped you. I always help you. How come you didn’t ask me?”

  “Because your daddy needed your help in the pens.”

  “That’s ’cause I’m good with animals,” Ellie sai
d, aiming a smug smile at Tanna, like she expected her to contradict the statement.

  “I imagine a ranch girl like you is good at all sorts of things,” Tanna offered.