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I turn when someone enters the stable—a blond woman not much older than I am but who was able to complete veterinary school and nab the dream job as head veterinarian here on Bridger Ranch.
“Dr. Davis.” I correct my stance. I’ve got to make a good impression on the boss. Lazing about lusting after the new ranch owner isn’t the way to do that.
“Please, Carly. It’s Lexie.” She offers a kind smile and pats Ivory.
“Okay.” I nod.
I’ll try, anyway.
“How are you and Ivory doing?” She eyes the horse.
“Great. She’s gentle, and my God, so beautiful.”
“Isn’t she?” Lexie gives Ivory another gentle pat on her flank. “I knew she’d be perfect for your first day. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
Of course. Everyone is tiptoeing around me as usual. I appreciated it at first, but now? It’s getting on my last nerve. I’m fragile in some ways but not all.
“I want to work,” I say, tipping my chin up. “I need to work, to be around animals.”
“Well, we’ve got plenty of animals here,” she says with a laugh. “But I’ll need you to help with paperwork as well.”
I nod. “Absolutely. Whatever you need.”
“Blaine is on vacation for three more weeks.”
I cock my head, trying to remember the name. “He’s the other vet, right?”
“Yeah. A year out of vet school. This is his first vacation—some big family thing—and somehow it got scheduled the same week I had a vet tech leave because his wife got relocated, so I’m very glad you’re here.” She smiles.
It’s a friendly smile. Lexie is pretty, in her blue-and-white western shirt and boot cut jeans, her hair in a low ponytail and a felt cowboy hat atop her head. She totally looks the cowgirl part.
“I’ll brush down the other horse, but what else can I do for you today?” I ask.
“I’ll get someone else to see to Maverick. I want to show you the kennels.” Her eyes light up. “We’ve got a litter of pups that was born a week ago, and one of them is having trouble latching on. Would you like to feed him?”
“Of course. Let me put Ivory in her stall.” I try to conceal my disappointment.
I love puppies, and bottle-feeding one sounds like heaven, but I’m qualified to do so much more. How can I get Lexie to understand that?
I follow her out of the stables and toward a Jeep.
“Get in.” She thumbs to the passenger seat.
A short drive later, we arrive at the kennels, near the main house.
The Bridger house.
I’ve seen it, of course, as it’s on the edge of the property and visible when driving through the small town. It’s made of local light stone. It’s only one level, but because it’s situated on some higher ground, everyone in town gets a good look at it.
And it’s sprawling, meant for a huge family, not just the two men who have lived there until recently. Now I know it’s three half brothers who share the space.
I’ll probably never see the inside of it. This is as close as I’ve ever been, and it’s spectacular. My family’s ranch is a good size, even with the animals sold off, but it’s nothing like this.
Austin Bridger lives there. In that huge house.
He sleeps there. In a bed.
God, a bed with Austin Bridger in it. All six feet plus of him. I wonder if he sleeps naked. I imagine that body beneath crisp white sheets. Like one of those calendars where he’s Mr. February with the bedding barely covering his hips.
