After five years, Laurel was used to his curtness, and most of the time she ignored it. But his announcement had knocked her for a loop. She wasn’t in any mood for sarcasm.
Her back teeth grinding together, she quickly rose to her feet. “Well, did you ever think it might have been more thoughtful to let me in on this a bit sooner? Jobs aren’t exactly hanging from tree limbs right now. But I suppose I’m just an afterthought in all of this.”
He arched a brow at her. “Sit down.”
The quietly spoken command made her hackles rise. “Why? I still have work to do before we close up. And I’d like to get to bed before midnight.”
“I’m not finished with this conversation yet. That’s why.” He pointed to the vacated chair as though she was a child instead of a thirty-year-old woman, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what an ass he could sometimes be. After all, her job was coming to an end. But what else could he do to her, she asked herself. Fire her before the week was out? The thought sent a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in her throat, and she realized she was very close to breaking down in front of this man who had little to no patience for weakness in human beings. Yet he had a massive heart where animals were concerned.
Biting back a weary sigh, she sank into the stillwarm seat. “Okay. Lay it on me,” she invited with a fatal dose of sarcasm.
He frowned. “First of all, I didn’t share all of this with you earlier, because I knew you’d be upset.”
She sputtered in disbelief. “Upset! That’s putting it mildly. I’m going along thinking my job is secure and you spring this on me! Wouldn’t any normal person be upset?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she suddenly felt his gaze roaming her face and hair. She had no doubt her gray eyes were sparking fire and her cheeks were pink. As for the rest of her, she was certain she looked as tired as she felt. Her long chestnut hair had loosened from its thick, single braid and now hung raggedly against the front of her left shoulder. What little makeup she’d applied this morning had been washed away by the early-morning drizzle that had fallen while she and Russ had trudged into a cattle pen to treat a bull with an infected horn. Her blue jeans and green-plaid flannel shirt could no longer be deemed clean, and her black cowboy boots were caked with dried red mud.
It was rare that Russ ever took the time to really look at her, and Laurel never fussed with her appearance. Not for him or any man. But now as she faced him in the dimly lit office, she realized his warm brown eyes made her feel quite uncomfortable and very much like a woman.
Since he was making no effort to speak, she decided to do it for him, saying, “Don’t bother to answer. I shouldn’t have said any of that. This is your clinic. What you do or don’t do with it is entirely your business. I’m just an employee.”
So why did she feel like so much more? she wondered, her spirits as dead as the potted plant in the window behind his head. Maybe it was the fifty or sixty hours she spent every week with this man. Maybe it was the emotional ups and downs she’d gone through as the two of them had lost and saved animals of all types, ages and sizes.
A grimace creased his broad forehead and pressed his hard lips into a crooked line. “Do you think you can manage to be quiet for two minutes?”
“I don’t know,” she quipped. “Do we have the time to do a test?”
He tossed down the pen and used the hand to rake a path through his sandy-blond hair. “If you’d shut up, I might be able to explain that I’ve not forgotten you in all of this. Do you think I’d just heartlessly dismiss you without any warning?”
She didn’t think he was heartless. He showed love and kindness to the animals every day. Just not to her. But then, he wasn’t that sort of man. And she was his assistant, not his girlfriend, she reminded herself.
Swallowing a sigh, she blurted, “I’ve never been able to read your mind. So I can hardly know what’s in it now.”
His nostrils flaring, he darted her a sharp look. “Good thing,” he muttered, then shook his head with something like self-disgust. “I don’t know why in hell I’ve put up with you all these years. Or why in hell I want you to go with me. You’re a pain. A big, fat pain. But the truth is I don’t want to work without you.”
That last shocking remark straightened her spine and scooted her butt to the edge of the chair. “Work! Without me? What are you talking about?”
“The Chaparral,” he snapped with impatience. “I want you to remain my assistant. I will need one there. Or hadn’t that crossed your mind?”
All sorts of things had been rolling through her mind these past few minutes, she thought. But nothing like this!
She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “It’s been less than five minutes since you’ve sprung this news on me. I haven’t had time to think about anything!”
He deliberately swung his attention to the clock on his desk. Once the second hand made a complete sweep of the numbers, he said, “Okay. You’ve had five minutes now. What do you think?”
Her insides were suddenly trembling, and she quickly clasped her hands together to keep them from outwardly shaking.
“First of all, the Cantrells offered you a job. Not me. And secondly, the ranch is several miles west of Ruidoso, and part of the trip is over rough, graveled road. The commute there would take at least forty-five minutes one way. That’s—”
“The Cantrells have already agreed to hire you—if you want the job,” he quickly interrupted. “And you wouldn’t be commuting. You’d be living there—on the ranch. Just like I will be.”
He was leaving his large home in the suburbs and moving to the ranch? And the Cantrells were offering her a job and a place to stay, too? Something was wrong with this picture. She’d not spoken to Alexa in several weeks, but that didn’t mean her old friend might not be pulling strings. As grateful as Laurel was for the offer, she’d been independent since—well, since she was a little girl. She didn’t want handouts from anyone. And she especially didn’t want to be hired because Russ had made stipulations to include her.
“I find all of this hard to believe. I mean, I believe the part about you—I’m sure the Cantrells were willing to offer you the moon to get you to work for them. But me—the ranch hardly needs my services.”
Leaning forward, he pulled a card from a Rolodex and tossed it on the desk in front of her. “If you don’t believe me, call Quint and talk with him. I’m sure he can answer any questions you might have.”
Quint Cantrell was Alexa’s younger brother. And since their father, Lewis, had died several years ago, he was now the man in charge of the ranch. Through her friendship with Alexa, she knew him quite well. But she didn’t want to talk with him tonight. She needed time to calm herself, to think about what all of this was going to do to her life.
“I’m not sure I have any questions for Quint,” she said after a moment. “Because I’m not at all sure I want to take the job.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes, but he couldn’t be any more surprised than she was at herself. The words had popped out of her mouth with a will of their own, as though something inside her had plucked the remark straight out of the chaos going on in her head.
Long seconds stretched in the quiet room before he finally asked, “You aren’t interested in the job?”
“I didn’t say that. I said I wasn’t sure about it,” she corrected.
“You were just bemoaning the fact that jobs weren’t hanging from tree limbs. You have something else in mind that you’d rather do?”
She resisted the urge to squirm upon the seat. There had been times in the past when she’d thought of moving on to work for another vet or changing to a different job that still involved caring for animals. Anything to get her away from the hopeless attachment she felt toward Russ. But she’d never been strong enough to take such a step.
“Not exactly,” she answered vaguely. “But moving to the Chaparral—that would be a major move for me.”
“I’m well aware of that,” he said bluntly. “It’s a major move for me, too.”
“That’s true,” she reluctantly agreed. “But it’s different for you.”
“How so?”
Groaning wearily, she scrubbed her face with both hands. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight, Russ. I’ll think about it and give you my decision tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. You don’t work on Sundays, remember?”
Only because she’d demanded that he give her that one day off. Otherwise, she’d be working nonstop for seven days a week. As for Russ, he had to come to the clinic no matter what day of the week it was. There were always small animals to be cared for and fed, and then there were the horses and cattle penned in the shelters behind the building that needed the same attention. Sometimes she took pity on him and showed up on Sunday afternoons to help him. And though he’d never said he appreciated her gesture, he always added overtime pay to her weekly check.
But money or salary from Russ had never been an issue with Laurel. All she’d ever really wanted from him was his appreciation, along with a little thoughtfulness. And his companionship throughout the workday. Unfortunately, the latter had become the thing she wanted from him most of all.
“All right then, I’ll phone you.”
“No. You won’t phone me,” he said flatly. “You’re going to give me your decision directly to my face.”
It was just like him to make something as difficult as possible for her, she thought crossly. “Okay. Monday morning. I’ll give you my answer then.”
She started out of the small room, but before she could slip out the door, he called out her name.
Pausing, Laurel looked back at him and for one brief moment she wanted to burst into tears. She wanted to beat her fist against his chest and ask him why he was doing this to her. She’d never been good with changes. She’d been through too many tough ones to ever dream a good change could come into her life.
“Don’t bother about cleaning up the operating room. I’ll deal with that and anything else that we left undone. Go on home.”