The Family Plan

“Are you?” Chase remembered Sinbad’s exit from the trailer.

“No.”

Jolyn answered with such assurance, Chase laid his concerns about Sinbad’s notorious high spirits to rest. Maybe age and experience had mellowed the horse.

Even so, Chase didn’t once let his guard down while he cleansed and then anesthetized the affected area by injecting serum under the skin with a small needle. Because the cut was clean and recent, he trimmed away only a minimum of dead tissue.

Sinbad stood like a champ during the entire procedure. Chase finished up by applying a dressing.

“If he rubs this off, don’t worry. The antibiotics are more important than the dressing.”

He handed Jolyn a bottle containing a supply of metronidazole and instructed her on how many tablets to administer and how often. She was no stranger to horse care and nodded knowingly as he talked.

“If the sutures should pull loose for any reason,” he continued, “or if the wound appears infected, call me.”

“When do the stitches need to come out?”

“Ten, twelve days.”

“I’ll bring him by.”

Thereby saving Chase a trip to the Sutherlands’ place and a possible confrontation with Dottie. “Thanks.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“I’ll mail you a bill.”

“You’d better.” She wagged a finger at him in warning.

“I will.”

“Good.” Jolyn tugged on Sinbad’s lead rope. “This way, buddy. Time to go back in that nasty trailer.” She smiled apologetically at Chase. “He’s a little sick of traveling. So am I.”

“Why don’t you leave him here overnight?” Chase made the offer without thinking. Common sense told him he should cool his acquaintance with Jolyn until her mother backed off. “You can come collect him in the morning.”

“Thanks.” Jolyn’s face brightened, making Chase glad he’d spoken first and thought later.

They walked down the barn aisle, Jolyn leading Sinbad. Head held high, ears pricked forward, the horse took in his not-unfamiliar surroundings. Once, years ago, he’d spent a lot of time in Chase’s barn.

So had Jolyn. Without being told where to go, she took the horse to the line of stalls. Nickering from the barn’s various occupants greeted them every step of the way. Chase opened the door to an empty stall on the end. Next, he went around the side of the barn to where the hay was stacked and grabbed two generous flakes.

When he returned, he dropped the hay into the empty feeder and turned on the spigot to the water trough. Sinbad buried his nose in the hay, snorting lustily.

Chase lifted his foot and rested it on the bottom rung of the stall’s railing. So did Jolyn. They watched Sinbad eat and drink, enjoying a moment of companionable silence.

“How long you staying?” Chase asked, breaking the lull.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how business goes.”

“What business is that?”

She smiled, and he heard pride in her voice when she said, “Sutherland Construction Company.”

“No fooling!”

“No fooling. I flew into Phoenix a couple months ago and tested for my contractor’s license. As of May thirty-first, I’m official.”

“Congratulations. I heard you were taking some classes in Dallas. I didn’t know what kind.”

“Trade school. I enrolled after the accident. Had to do something with myself during all those months of physical therapy.” She gave a little shrug as if it were nothing.

Chase doubted three separate knee surgeries and endless months of physical therapy were nothing. “I never pegged you for going into construction. How’d you wind up in that field?”

“We did most of our own construction in the show. Built and repaired sets and props. I found out I liked hammering nails and sawing two-by-fours—was actually good at it. Eventually, I was promoted to crew boss. Later, while I was in school, I worked part-time as a junior project manager for a commercial contractor.”

“Wow.” Chase eyed Jolyn with new appreciation. Though he shouldn’t be surprised by her success. She’d always been the determined sort, as her rebound from a devastating injury proved. “I’m impressed.”

“Well, running my own business is a far cry from running a ragtag construction crew or sitting behind a desk, punching numbers. I figure starting out in Blue Ridge where there aren’t so many good ol’ boys will be easier than starting out in Dallas.”

“What? The boys don’t take kindly to a woman muscling in on their territory?”

“I need to prove myself, and I’m okay with that. But I’d rather start out climbing a hill and not a mountain if I can help it. Once I get two or three decent jobs under my belt, generate some positive cash flow, I’ll relocate to a larger market, like Pineville.”

“Plenty of work around here.”

“Enough to get started. But I’d like to grow my business into something more than just the local handyman.”

“Hmm.” This time, Chase did think before he spoke. And despite the warning bells clanging inside his head, he voiced the idea that had just occurred to him out loud. “I happen to have a set of plans on my kitchen table for a small-animal clinic and office. Interested in looking at them?”

“Are you serious?” Her eyes glinted with excitement.

He’d forgotten how green they looked in sunlight. And about the small dimples on each side of her mouth. “Is that a yes?”

“You’re building a clinic? Where?”

“Here.” He hitched a thumb at the house. “I’m expanding my practice to include small animals. And I’m hiring an assistant to help with the large animal side.”

“Business must be booming.”

“It helps when you have no competition.”

“I’m hoping for a similar misfortune myself.”

“Be ready to work yourself to death. I put in sixty to eighty hours a week. No vacations, no holidays, and forget sick days. I’m up at the crack of dawn or earlier and don’t get home till seven if I’m lucky. Usually later.”