Unrepentant Cowboy

“I won’t,” Ruby promised.

“I guess I better watch what goes on in my own barn a little closer, too,” Latham said. “Got more on my plate some days than I can handle.”

“I told him he needs to find a wife,” Ruby said. “Mom’s been dead for two years. That’s long enough for him to get married again. Don’t you think so, Dr. Griffin?”

Joni put up her hands and waved off the question. “Can’t look to me for advice on that. I’m just the vet.”

“I told Ruby I’d marry again when I found the right woman,” Latham said. “You can’t go rushing those things.” They talked a minute more and then Joni was ready to move on.

The sun inched toward the horizon as Leif and Joni started back to his car, and the air started to grow cooler, though it was still warm for November. Leif had shed his lightweight denim jacket two hours ago.

The puddles from yesterday’s storm had vanished, leaving the carpet of grass beneath their feet bouncy but dry. Even the oppressive humidity that had refused to acknowledge the arrival of fall had dissipated in the wake of last night’s rain-producing front.

Leif took a deep breath, his lungs suddenly hungry for the fresh air. Somewhere along the way, without realizing it, he’d actually begun to relax. Thoughts of work and Edward Blanco had taken a backseat to watching Joni work.

He opened the passenger door for Joni and then walked around to his side and climbed behind the wheel. “Do you mind if I put the windows down?”

She laughed. “I understand completely. I get a little rank after a day in the stalls. You’ll probably have to have your vehicle fumigated after chauffeuring me around all day.”

“It’s not that bad,” he teased. “A half-dozen cans of deodorizing spray and it’ll be good as new.”

“Except for the odor of antibiotic ointment. That has a shelf life of forever.”

“Now you tell me.”

Leif started the car and headed back the way they’d come. “Actually, I was just thinking how nice and fresh the air smells out here.”

“Spoken like a man who spends far too much time in a stuffy office.”

“Everybody can’t be a cowboy.”

“Too bad. You’d look good in a Stetson and a pair of Western boots.”

“I’ll have you know, I own a pair of genuine, handmade ostrich-skin Western boots. When I wear them, I have to fight the urge to don a rhinestone jacket and break into a country ballad.”

“Oh, no. Not another urban cowboy. You should take me shopping with you, and I’ll point out when you look ridiculous.”

“While you snicker behind my back?”

“Never. I’d snicker to your face.”

“That’s helpful. So where to next?”

“I’m through with my scheduled calls, but I do have one more stop to make. I promised my favorite cowboy I’d bring him a special feed mix for his steer.”

“Your favorite, huh? Now you’ve gone and made me jealous.”

“You should be. Jeffrey is too cute for words. Of course, he’s also only eleven years old and the steer is one he’s raising for his 4-H project.”

“So where do Jeffrey and his steer live?”

“About a mile down the road we turned off on to get here. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring the feed with me, which means I have to go back home to pick it up.”

“Where do you live?”

“About twelve miles from here, almost to the downtown area of Oak Grove, but near Abe’s repair shop. You can drop me there if you don’t mind. I have no idea what happened to Corky, but Abe surely has the new battery installed by now.”

“Unfortunately, I have bad news. It seems the battery is only the beginning of your problems. Abe is making a few additional repairs.”

“When did you hear that?”

“R.J. called while you were tending Benjy. The truck may not be ready until tomorrow.”

She grimaced, took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “What else have you heard and why do I suddenly see dollar signs dancing in front of my eyes?”

Leif explained the situation, including R.J.’s taking charge.

“That sounds just like R.J. Always ready to jump in and help.”

Unless you happened to be a son he’d abandoned. Then you could live in hell and he wouldn’t bother to send you a glass of cold water. “How many miles does your truck have on it?”

“Just over 150,000.”

“Sounds as if it might be time to put it out to pasture.”

“Easier said than done. I’m emotionally attached.”

“To a truck?”

“Don’t laugh. It got me through four years of undergrad work, four years of veterinary school and a one-year internship with a clinic in Oklahoma specializing in equine insemination and breeding. Getting rid of it would be like dumping an old friend.”

Impressive. Joni was committed to a worn-out truck. Leif had never kept a vehicle long enough to need new tires. His record with relationships was worse.

But with that much schooling under her belt, apparently Joni Griffin was not as young as he’d assumed.

“Your old friend is not as dependable as he once was,” Leif said. “Maybe you should start looking for a nice retirement home for lovable metal scrap.”

“There’s also a money issue,” Joni admitted. “My school loans devour a huge chunk of my salary every month. I was hoping to make a dent in them before I had to purchase a new truck.”

“I could help you get a low-interest vehicle loan.”

The comment surprised him. He was not one to jump into women’s financial issues. Not that he wasn’t generous. He just didn’t like ties that might bind.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Joni said, quickly letting him off the hook. “Blake has already offered to front me the money if I need a loan. I’ll take him up on it if I have to—after I pay R.J. back for this round of repairs. Who knows? Abe and his mechanics may do such a good job that the truck will run for another fifty thousand miles.”

“Good luck with that. So, moving on, I have a proposition you can’t refuse,” Leif said.

“I can if it involves loans or getting rid of my truck.”