Second-Chance Cowboy

“Would you like me to show you around?” she asked, her gaze flicking from her clipboard to him.

“I guess that would be helpful.”

“I can bring you up to speed on some of the animals we have staying here. Let you know what kind of work we do. In case some of it might be new to you.” She stopped there, flushing.

“Sure.”

She nodded and he waited, an awkward silence falling over them. “Right. I should do that now,” she finally said, dropping her clipboard onto the counter in front of her. It fell and she bent over to pick it up exactly the same time he did. Their heads hit and pain jolted through him.

“Sorry,” she muttered, rubbing her head just as he rubbed his.

Morgan sighed as she carefully set the clipboard on the shelf. This was getting more and more awkward. He was about to say something but she was already swishing past him, her lab coat flaring out behind her.

“The treatment rooms are here and here,” she said, pointing left and right, like a flight attendant indicating escape routes, as she scurried down the hall ahead of him. “There’s only two. We should have more but Dr. Waters is thrifty. Supply room you’ve already seen. And here’s where we house the animals we’ve treated.” Tabitha opened the door to the large back room and stepped back.

Morgan frowned as he stepped inside the dark room with its crates stacked one on top of the other.

“Looks kind of depressing.” Morgan couldn’t believe that there wasn’t even a window or a skylight.

And it didn’t smell very good.

“Do the cages get cleaned?” he asked, stopping by one of the crates, which held a Labrador pup with a plastic cone on its head. The puppy was asleep and Morgan reached between the bars and laid his hand on the dog’s stomach. It was not overly warm and breathing properly.

“Of course they do. Every day.”

From the defensive tone of Tabitha’s voice, Morgan guessed she was the one who did the cleaning.

“The building is old and the smell tends to linger,” she continued.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re neglectful.” He looked back at Tabitha, who stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest, her chin up, gaze challenging.

“So what’s with this little guy?” he asked, pointing to the Lab.

“Hernia operation. He’s due to go back today.”

“And this one?” He pointed to a cat who lay on its side, one leg extended out in front of it, bandaged.

“Severed tendon on his foreleg. Got on the wrong side of a grain auger. He’s lucky to be alive.”

“How much small-animal work does Dr. Waters do?” Morgan glanced around the rest of the crates but they were all empty.

“Not as much as he’d like. He prefers the small animals to the large ones. I guess that’s why he hired you.”

Morgan nodded, remembering the conversation he and Dr. Waters had had. “And what’s the large-animal patients consist of?”

“It used to be mainly cattle, but with more people moving in and more acreages sprouting up around town and people getting horses, he’s doing more equine. That’s my specialty but he prefers to do that on his own.”

Her comment puzzled him as did the faintly bitter tone in her voice. “What do you mean, your specialty?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just the vet assistant,” she said, with a bright smile as if trying to show him she was making a joke. “We don’t have specialties.”

“But clearly you do,” he said. He found himself suddenly curious. The last he’d heard, she had quit high school. When he found out she was working at the clinic, he had assumed it was only as a general helper.

“I went back to school a few years after I dropped out of high school. Got my high school diploma, then went to college and graduated as a veterinary assistant and equine specialist. I’m not such a dummy.” She flashed a bright smile, but behind it he sensed an air of defensiveness.

“I never said you were,” he returned, holding his hands up.

“Not all of us can get into vet school, but some of us can make something of ourselves.”

Her tone puzzled him and he found himself wanting to ask why she’d quit school.

What he really wanted was to ask her why she’d dumped him so casually.

He pushed that last thought back into the dusty recesses of his mind. Clearly he had to do more work to let go of the past and the hurt Tabitha had caused him.

One step at a time, he told himself.

“Well, I’m glad you did. Never could figure out why you dropped out in the first place.”

She looked like she was about to say something. But then the back door opened and Dr. Waters’s and Jenny’s voices broke into the conversation and signaled the beginning of the workday.

Tabitha spun around, striding back down the hallway, leaving Morgan confused and upset. How was he supposed to make a new start in this town when the harshest memories of his past were right here in the form of Tabitha Rennie?

Okay, Lord, You brought me here. You’ll have to help me out.

His prayer was raw and rough. But it came directly from his heart. Because without God’s help, he didn’t think he would be able to do what he needed to do.

And that was keeping his focus on his son. He had been given a second chance with Nathan and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

Not even for Tabitha.

Chapter Three (#u248486d8-9204-5429-abaf-ca38b9cc86af)

“C’mon, Tony. Since when did you need money up front from me?” Tabitha leaned on the counter, flashing a teasing grin at the young man behind the counter of Walsh’s Hardware Store. “You know I’m good for it.”

It was Monday morning and Tabitha had sneaked out on her coffee break to order her kitchen sink.

Morgan hadn’t looked pleased at her departure, but since he’d started working at the clinic, that seemed to be his default emotion.

She knew he was stressed. Moving back home, trying to deal with a kid he barely knew. That had to be hard.

Plus, he didn’t seem too happy with the fact that they had to work together. Until her house was finished, there was nothing she could do about it either.

She had kept herself busy on Saturday after working in the clinic, putting the final coat of paint on the spare room of the house, which had been her father’s old room. On Sunday she stifled her guilt and put in some of the casings and baseboards, electing to stay busy and away from church. That was the trouble with a small community like Cedar Ridge. There were too many opportunities to run into people you wanted to avoid, and right now she wanted to avoid Morgan.

Besides, the sooner she got this house done, the sooner she could sell it and move on. Being around Morgan was harder than she’d thought it would be and she didn’t need that extra stress in her life.

Tony nervously rearranged the ball cap he perpetually wore on his head, looking over his shoulder as if to see if the owner, George Walsh, might have made a surprise visit.