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He swallowed hard and his mouth went dry. He’d never be able to sleep now, thinking about seeing Alice fresh as a daisy the next morning. After clearing his throat, he nodded his reply. “See you then.”
If he rode away and never let on how he’d be counting the minutes until morning, she would never know. She would assume he was the same gruff curmudgeon he’d allowed himself to become and that would save him.
It would save her, too. Because if he refused to allow her to change him, then he couldn’t hurt her again. She may be friendly, but she wouldn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. Friendship was better than love. The pain in his chest disagreed with him, but he stuck his foot in the stirrup and shoved his thoughts out of his mind.
Love was for the handsome, the rich, and the gifted. Or people who gave of themselves like Alice. He’d taken from life with how he’d treated her and how Pa had taught him to act, not given. Love was not for him. He directed his horse down the dark lane and refused to allow himself to look back.
Tomorrow he’d see her again, unless he counted his dreams should he manage to sleep. There was no question he’d see her there.
Chapter7
After an all-too-short visit to see the puppy and Alice that morning, Kent led his horse back into the barn. Armstrong met him just inside, worry creasing his brow.
“Let Fairbanks handle that. I need you to look at something.” He tugged the reins from Kent’s hands and handed them off to the foreman.
Unease nibbled at him. Armstrong seemed concerned, which meant something was either wrong with Pa, his wife Dosha, or the cattle and only one of those he was qualified to handle. “What’s wrong?”
He followed Leo just outside where a cow stood in the sun near the feed trough, wheezing and struggling to take a breath. Just like the Oleson cattle he’d seen the day before. Had he brought something with him? But he had gone nowhere near their cattle after he’d returned. He’d gone right over to see Alice, then to bed.
“What do you make of it?” Armstrong strode over to the animal, who didn’t move.
“Any other symptoms?” Kent slowly checked over the cow, but this animal seemed to be going through exactly what the Oleson cattle had.
“Having trouble breathing. Lack of appetite. When I saw a few of the cows weren’t eating, I pulled them over to another pasture and made sure they had feed and water available.” He pulled on the cow’s lip, showing him the saliva pooling there. “Pa told me you’d complained to him about having hay on-hand. I took your advice and went to get some afterward. I expected the bale to stay together better, but it fell apart as we moved it from the wagon. Now I’m glad we have it for these who have to stay close to the barn.”
He’d never noticed any of their cows drooling before. “Seems to me we have the same issue as the Oleson’s. They don’t have any river on their land, but they had the same flooding we did. I’m concerned that the flooding made some type of water plant grow where it didn’t before and it’s making the cattle sick.”
“I’m not losing a single head of cattle. I’ll keep them away from the river and make sure they have what they need up here. Will you be around to watch them or are you working for the doctor now?” Armstrong stepped back, giving the cow some space.
Other than the labored breathing, the animal seemed almost fine. She wasn’t as bad off as some of the cattle at the Broken Circle O. Maybe their cattle had gotten into whatever this was earlier and harder. If he could find one of the dangerous plants he’d studied in school down by the river, he could have everyone in town get rid of them, stopping the spread.
“Dr. Spight is giving me the animal jobs he can’t take right now. I don’t work for him and I don’t have my own practice, either.” Part of him wanted to high-tail it out of Belle Fourche before he could get too attached to Alice again. Part of him was scared to leave her and never again feel what he had before.
“Seems to me, if you wanted to stay, you’d have a place and plenty of business. Belle Fourche doesn’t have gold, so it’ll always be a cow town.”
Kent snorted at the thought. Belle Fourche would always be split right down the middle between cattle and sheep. Both would need his expertise. But staying where his father didn’t want him and often intentionally antagonized him and where he’d have to see the love that he couldn’t have every day of his life was torture.
“There are cows in a lot of towns.” And that was all he’d say on the matter until it was settled. Armstrong was a man who liked to discuss things. He’d go out of his way to talk. It wasn’t a bad way, just not Kent’s. He’d rather mull things over in his own head.
“I haven’t seen any strange grass or weeds, but I’ll look for anything out of the ordinary when I’m in the pasture.”
Kent nodded, having already decided he’d go for the source. If there were weeds of that sort, they would’ve come from the river, transported there by the floods from somewhere else. “Can you ask Cookie to pack a lunch for me? I’m going to head down to the river. I’ll be there most of the day. If I can’t find anything there, then we can look in the pastures or I can hunt through my books to see if anything else matches these symptoms.”
He still wasn’t sure how else to go about the problem. Since animals didn’t speak, animal medicine was inherently different from human. With a human, they would tell you what ailed them and you could look at those symptoms and compare them to what was known, then you could narrow down a cause.
In animal medicine, the science was still too new to have much pegged down as an absolute certainty. Most farmers knew what to keep away from their animals better than the veterinarian if he hadn’t grown up in the area. Luckily, Kent had both in his favor. He wouldn’t tell Armstrong that might be one reason for staying.
That and he already knew people in Belle Fourche. He wouldn’t have to explain his face to them. Word had gotten around when it happened. It was old news. They still never looked him in the eye, but at least men touched their hats at him in the street, and most women didn’t cringe too much.
Armstrong returned shortly with a wrapped lunch for him to put in his saddlebag. He handed it to Kent and gripped his arm. “When this is all figured, I need you to use some of that know-how on Pa. He’s not right and I don’t know how to manage him.”
Kent ignored the request and mounted, then adjusted his hat and touched the bandana at his neck. Armstrong waved him through the gate to the pasture and closed it behind him. That pasture was empty since they were still waiting for grassy areas to grow back in after the years of flooding. There were some valleys where there was still water that might never recede. The only animal they’d had in that pasture was the bull and they’d loaned him out to another outfit at the moment. He rode toward the area where he’d found Alice trapped by their bull.
He swung down from his mount and led it past the tree, taking a moment to stare up at the thin branch where she’d clung for safety. He could almost feel the pressure of her hands around his waist as he’d helped her down.
Then he’d tricked her by not telling her who he was. No wonder she’d been angry with him. He hadn’t apologized for that, either. Tying his horse to a low branch where he wouldn’t be near the river, he glanced down at the cold, flowing water. If his shirt got wet, he wouldn’t be able to stay down there long. It would cling to him and make him even colder than without it.
Glancing around to confirm he was alone, he did just as he had when he was a boy with Armstrong at his side. He peeled off his shirt and undershirt and hung them on the nearest tree limb, then headed for the river. When he reached the edge, he sat in the sparse grass and tugged his boots and socks off, then grabbed the hem of his trouser legs and tugged the inside out until the ankle part covered his knees. Now his trousers would be reasonably safe from the water and he wouldn’t get them filthy, either.
