Chapter Three

Reba

Reba could feel the eyes of the bull riders as she approached the pen. She ignored their murmurs and whispers and focused on the bull. Vidar was a massive creature with thick, muscular legs and a coat of black and white fur. He was pacing, limping and kicking out randomly. His eyes were wild with pain. The staff had managed to isolate him from the other bulls, so she could treat him more easily. But not before Vidar had riled up the other animals—and they were making a hell of a racket. Why couldn't everyone just go away and let her work in peace?

They had one more set of rides to do before their owners could put them back into their trailers and take them to the next event. The bull riders were grumbling amongst themselves.

"Do you need a hand?" Ronnie Sunderland asked.

Ronnie was Karen/Vanessa's husband. He was her exact opposite in every way. Ronnie had made a point in coming up to her before the bull-riding event to thank Reba for looking at his horse this morning. He had confided in her that money was tight, but he was planning on using his winnings from today to buy the renal feed that Starshine needed.

Reba had sucked it up and called Kilgore Veterinary to see if they had any promotions going on. Since she knew Dr. Kilgore wasn't there, it had made things easier. The woman who answered the phone didn't know her, but she knew that the rodeo was in town and was pretty pissed that she had to work today. Reba had offered free tickets and Ronnie's autograph, and the woman had been able to come through for her. She had been able to give Ronnie a coupon code for a six-month supply.

"It's only twenty percent off," Reba had said, apologetically.

"I appreciate you." Ronnie had put a hand over his heart. "And Starshine does, too."

"Just keep it on the down-low." Reba felt a little guilty that she couldn't do this for every animal that needed expensive medicine.

"No problem."

In the end, Ronnie had gotten all the bull riders to sign their name on the program. What Reba hadn't known was that Ronnie was the number-one bull rider in the UPRC. Everyone was predicting that he would take the all-around and win the three-hundred-thousand-dollar purse in Las Vegas at the end of the season. It didn't excuse his wife for being a snot. But at least then, they could afford to keep Starshine in expensive feed.

Reba had taken the signed program to Dolly in the press booth. "Hey, I need a favor."

"Another one?" Dolly was dressed in tight black jeans and a sparkly western shirt. She'd topped it off with a cute leather vest and a matching brown hat. Reba felt like a frump, standing next to her. But then again, Dolly hadn't had her arm up to her elbow in a cow's vagina this morning.

"This time, free tickets and this at the gate." She'd handed her sister the program.

"Who did you piss off?" Dolly had asked, flipping through it.

"The list is long and numerous." Reba had shifted from foot to foot. "But hold them for Penny Markson. She did me a solid. It's okay, though, right?"

"Always." Dolly had given her a warm smile. "Even if we were at capacity, I'd find a way for you."

"Thanks. What can I do to make things square?"

"Well, we're sisters, so you'll never have to worry about that. But if we don't have to eat at Mom and Dad's again tonight that would make my evening."

Being back in Paris, Texas, meant that their parents expected their daughters to spend quality family time with them. And for the first few nights that had been great and then as the third and fourth night crept up, it just highlighted why they had all decided not to continue to live together on the road in the Winnebago once LeAnn's relationship with Dylan took off.

LeAnn traveled rodeo to rodeo with her husband. Dolly had an apartment in Dallas, and Reba had use of their parents' RV with the express instructions that no pets were allowed.

"Set it up," Reba had said. "We should grab Loretta, too." She hoped that LeAnn and Dylan would be able to join them as well, but Reba didn't want to totally abandon her parents.

"You got it," Dolly had said. "How does Hometown Buffet sound to you?"

It sounded like they would run into a lot of people that they knew. And Reba would have almost rather spent the evening with her parents, but she owed Dolly so they would go wherever she wanted. Dolly had said she would make the arrangements and all Reba had to do was show up.

"It'll do you some good to get out and socialize," Dolly had said.

Reba knew she was right. She was just worried that somehow Dr. Kilgore would show up and start his gaslighting schmoozing.

"Is there someone you'd like to join us?" Dolly had asked casually.

Reba wasn't sure why Shane Calland popped into her mind.

"No," she had said, too quickly because Dolly had zoomed in on her hesitation like a shark scenting blood.

"When was the last time you were out on a date?" she had asked.

Three years ago.

"I don't fucking know," Reba had said, hoping her sister would get the message and shut up.

Of course, she hadn't.

"You never used to be like this."

Dolly was too damned smart for her own good.

"Like what?" Reba had tried to deflect.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, but I know something awful must have happened."

Shock had rooted Reba to the spot.

"I know because I had something really shitty happen to me, too, and it took me a few years to get over it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Reba had said, concerned.

"Same reason you're not saying anything."

"That's different."

"Is it?" Dolly had pinned her with a look. But then she'd relented. "I'm here if you need to talk. But you've got to stop this lone-wolf shit. That's not you. You're a pack animal."

Reba loved when Dolly tried to use animal metaphors. "I get it. I'll see what I can do."

"What worked for me is that I had to replace the bad memories with good ones. Maybe that will help you, too."

Dolly had left her alone after that. But her words sank in. Reba had a lot to think about. She had shoved all of her feelings under the surface while she dealt with a new job and new situations. But now things were leveling off and she was getting back to a new normal. It was time to stop letting Dr. Kilgore live rent-free in her head.

The problem was, Reba just wasn't sure how to do it.

Right now, however, she needed to concentrate on helping Vidar. She swung a leg over the pen. She realized that Ronnie Sunderland was still waiting for an answer. "No, that's all right, Ronnie. I got this."

"The bulls are restless," Keith Kilgore said, sourly. "I'm not going to be able to top my first ride if they don't settle down. It isn't fair."

"Settle down, Sally," Taylor Keating said derisively.

Reba recognized the other bull riders only because they had signed their names on the program this morning for her. Maybe as part of her coming out of her lone-wolf persona, she'd ask one of them out for a beer. Not Keith, though. She could tell he was just like his uncle. Unfortunately, there were a lot of assholes out on the rodeo circuit.

"I'm just saying, there's a lot of money on the line," Keith said. "This is bullshit."

"Who hit the bull?" Reba asked, pausing to sit on the fence. "If you're so upset, you should be looking to see who caused this."

"No one caused it," Keith blustered. "He got nicked on the fencing."

"I didn't see anything that would cut a bull," another bull rider, Nash Weaver, said, folding his arms. He had been shocked when they asked him to sign the program.

"What do you know?" Keith said. "You're the shittiest bull rider I've ever met."

"Fuck you," Nash said.

The conversation devolved from there as they compared dicks and insulted each other's mothers. It made her a little nervous to be around it, but none of it was directed at her. She hoped that LeAnn drew the name of a bull that wasn't agitated for the next round. But if she did, Reba knew her sister could handle it.

Putting that out of her mind, she turned her concentration back to Vidar, who seemed to have accepted her presence on top of the fence post. She spoke to him in a low, calming voice, hoping to soothe his nerves. "It's all right, Vidar. I'm here to help."

But he was in no mood to be comforted. He let out a guttural roar and charged at her. Reba managed to avoid its massive head as it slammed into the metal bars.

"He ain't happy," Nash said.

Reba hopped off the fence, her heart racing. She had dealt with aggressive animals before, but she hated having an audience.

"Got any of those tranquilizer darts?" Keith asked.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" Reba asked. Being watched made her nervous, and she couldn't afford to make a mistake around a pissed-off two-thousand-pound animal. She climbed back on the fence once Vidar moved away.

"Not at the moment," Keith said. He reminded her of his uncle in the way that he stared at her, like a shark with his beady little eyes. And when he approached her where she was sitting, vulnerable on top of the fencing, her pulse quickened.

"Fuck off," a deep voice snarled.

Reba recognized Shane's gravelly voice and was surprised that the menace in it didn't make her flinch. Maybe because it wasn't directed at her. But after the cowboys slunk away, Shane turned that steely-eyed glare on her.

"What the hell is going on? I watched Vidar toss Jennings on his ass and then stomp around the bullfighters for a few seconds. Marty Kreeger roped him and then they guided him back through the chute. Just an average day." Shane approached her, and she was surprised that she didn't feel trapped or at risk. Maybe because he had scattered the bull riders like a pack of flustered geese.

"I asked a few of the boys, and they said he didn't start limping until he was back in the pens," Reba said. "They think he got scraped up against the fence, but I didn't see any jagged pieces of metal sticking out. It's not bleeding a lot, but I can't get close enough to take a look at the wound."

"He's in a mood, that's for sure." Shane went over to the gate, but Vidar charged him, pawing the ground.

"Don't open that," she warned.

"Settle down, asshole," he shouted at the bull who tried to buck him with his horns through the fencing.

"Does that usually work?" Reba asked.

Shane ran a hand through his short blond hair. "It works when my father yells it at me."

It wasn't fair that a man that good-looking was also funny. It occurred to her again that the way to get beyond Kilgore's shittiness was to take up with a cowboy just like Shane.

"He's hurting," she said. "I've got a tranq to settle him down and take away the pain. But I've got to get close to him to do it. If you can lead him into the squeeze chute, I can put the head gate down and treat him."

"I'll go get some rope."

It didn't take Shane long to come back with a lasso. She liked the way his arms looked as he twirled the rope a few times while Vidar glared at him. Shane managed to loop it over the bull's neck on the first shot.

"It's almost like you've done this before," Reba teased.

He gave her a sour look. "I used to make my living doing this."

"I know. I was joking."

Shane just grunted. "Were you around when I was riding?"

"No, but my baby sister was. She was way too young for you, though." Reba arched a look in his direction. "And we would have hog-tied you if you had looked at her twice."

He just flicked a glance at her. "Don't believe all the rumors you've heard about me."

Vidar tried to shake the rope off, but Shane tightened it, wrapping it around his forearm a few times.

"Come on, you big bastard," he said and led the bull toward the narrow cattle chute.

When Vidar settled down, Shane climbed the fence to be in the pen with him. Reba tensed, thinking that Vidar would use the opportunity to act up.

But Shane muttered something that she couldn't quite catch. Vidar heard it, though, and flicked his ears, but didn't do anything else. Vidar balked when Shane encouraged him to move closer to the cattle chute.

The cattle chute was designed to hold the animal in place by enclosing it on three sides with adjustable panels that could be tightened or loosened to fit the size of the cow or bull. Reba stood at the front where the head gate was located. Once Vidar was in the chute, she would close it around his neck, which would keep him from moving his head and potentially injuring her.

But first, they had to get the ornery critter into it.

"Careful," Reba said, following along on the outside of the pen.

"áfram!" Shane said louder, speaking in a language Reba couldn't identify. "Fara heim," he continued. Whatever he was saying, Vidar was calming down. Eventually, the bull allowed himself to be led into the chute. Securing the back, so Vidar couldn't change his mind and escape, Shane said, "All yours, Doc."

"What did you say to him?"

Shane ducked his head and she saw a reddening move up his neck to his cheeks. "It's Old Norse. I basically said, let's go home."

"Well, it worked." Reba secured the head gate. Vidar pulled back and stomped, but was, in essence, trapped.

Moving around to his flank, she took out a syringe filled with pain medication. She plunged the needle into the bull's hindquarters. Vidar thrashed and bellowed, but within moments, his movements began to slow.

Crouching to get a better look, Reba cursed.

"What?" Shane said.

"A jagged piece of metal sticking out from the fence didn't do this." She pointed. "See the bruising here and the red welts?"

"What the hell caused that?"

"If I had to guess, your bull was whipped."

"I'm going to kill someone." Shane's hands flexed.

Okay, now she was a little freaked out. But she forced herself to concentrate on Vidar. Shane probably didn't mean it literally. She hoped anyway. She felt a familiar cold sweat go over her body and her fingers began to shake. Not now. She didn't need this right now. This hadn't happened in a long while. It must have been seeing Kilgore that triggered all these raw feelings.

"Hey," Shane said softly.

Reba clenched her jaw.

"I'm not mad at you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she said between stiff lips, but the apology helped.

Shane let out a big sigh and placed his hand on his bull. "It's okay, Vidar. This isn't going to happen again. We'll bring Pat or Tommy next time." He stroked the bull soothingly.

"Who are they?" she asked, mesmerized by the kind motions of his hands.

"Tommy's my brother's assistant foreman and Pat's one of our ranch hands who's good with the bulls. I should've been back here, but I wanted to be out front watching the rodeo instead of being back here doing my job."

Technically, his job ended once he offloaded the bulls into the bullpen and didn't pick up until their rides were over for the day. "Don't blame yourself," she said. "The UPRC was lax, and your bull got hurt on their watch."

"Yeah," he said, but he didn't sound convinced.

The twist in her guts eased, and she sympathized with the pain in his voice. He really did feel for Vidar. Reba felt a tinge of kinship toward Shane at that.

With practiced movements, she began to clean the wound and apply medication to prevent infection and to accelerate healing. The bull moaned softly, but he didn't thrash or buck anymore. Reba worked quickly and efficiently, her movements confident and sure.

Finally, she stepped back and wiped the sweat from her forehead. The bull stood still, his breathing heavy and labored. Reba knew it would take time before Vidar could be back in the arena, but she had done everything she could to ease his pain.

"He should heal up from this in a few weeks." Risking a glance at Shane, she saw that he was still brooding. She wished she had Dolly's way with people. Dolly would be able to cheer him up or distract him somehow. Reba didn't have a lot of luck with the social graces, so she defaulted to what she did best. She was a vet.

"If you see signs of infection, feel free to give me a call. I'll be on the roster for San Antonio." Easing up to a standing position, she went around to free Vidar from the neck gate.

"Thanks," Shane said hoarsely. "I need to get to the bottom of this. Someone had to have seen something."

"Just don't do anything stupid," she said, backing away from the banked rage in his eyes.

It stung that seeing Dr. Kilgore today had made her so jumpy about these things. Shane and Kilgore were leagues apart in their anger management and still, Reba wanted to run away.

"No one gets away with hurting my animals. Any animals," he muttered.

"Do I have to stick a sedative in you, too?" she asked, hands on her hips.

Shane's lips quirked in a reluctant grin. "Maybe. I hear you got the good stuff."

"Yeah, if you weigh as much as a bull."

Rolling his neck, Shane winced at the cracks in it. "I don't want to think Jennings did this in revenge for tossing him. But who else would do it?"

"Don't go on a witch hunt," she warned.

"Does this happen often?"

"Never," Reba said, feeling her temper begin to boil. She was going to report this to Diane and hopefully they could put the word out to stop whoever had done this from doing it again.

Crap.What if Diane didn't believe her? Reba didn't want to get a reputation here, too, of being a snitch or a liar. Both of which she had been called when she had tried to report Dr. Kilgore.

His wife's reaction had been the worst. She had shown up at Reba's apartment with her two kids in tow.

"Tell them," Jolene Kilgore had screeched. She had reeked of booze and her eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. The kids were less than ten years old. "You tell them that you're a lying whore."

She had tried to talk with Jolene, but there was no reasoning with her.

"You're trying to destroy my marriage and my husband's reputation. He's a good man. He's a great vet. You're just jealous because you don't own your own practice."

In the end, Reba couldn't tell the kids that their father was an angry old letch who liked to intimidate everyone around him. But she wouldn't lie to them either.

"No one believes you," Jolene said, her voice hitched on a sob. "I'll make sure you'll never work in this town again."

Reba had closed the door in her face. But she had underestimated Jolene's vitriol. Reba's car was keyed. She was shunned and gossiped about around their neighborhood. But when a dead armadillo appeared on her doorstep, that was the last straw. Could it have been hit by a car and wandered up there to die? Maybe. But Reba didn't allow herself to dwell on the fact that the wounds were too specific for that. She just buried the poor thing and then made sure her own animals were safe at her parents' house.

But Reba didn't really have a doorstep anymore, not one that she had for more than a day or so anyway. And her boss, Diane, hated anyone who abused animals. If worst came to worst, Reba could even go right to the top to Shelby Miller, the co-CEO of the rodeo, if she had to.

What if they don't believe you?a voice whispered in her head, and, for a moment, Reba was transported back three years, when one of Kilgore's clients had literally spat at her in the sidewalk. Buffy the Pomeranian had been confused at her owner's behavior and had barked at Reba as if she was the enemy. It had seemed like all of Paris, Texas had been against her.

Fuck it.It wouldn't help Vidar, but if it could save the other animals, Reba would do anything in her power to make sure no one else got hurt. Maybe she was getting a little riled up, too.

"Glad to hear it." Shane walked over to her. "Thank you." He held out his hand to shake.

It was rough from working with rope and cattle, but then again so was hers. She appreciated the warmth, and that he didn't squeeze too tight or too long. A rogue thought tickled up as to how his calloused hands would feel all over her body and she nearly choked on air.

She took her hand back and resisted the urge to shake it out because it felt all tingly and warm.

"Are you doing anything for dinner tonight?" he asked.

Reba was wearing overalls that had seen better days. She probably smelled like a barn. Her messy brown hair was pulled back in a ratty ponytail, and she didn't have a bit of makeup on. Why on earth was this handsome devil asking her out for dinner?

"I've got plans." She sighed regretfully. For a moment, she thought about inviting him along for her family dinner. But she couldn't do that to a guy she'd just met. They would give him the third degree, and he'd run for the hills.

Reba realized that she didn't want that to happen. Shane didn't seem like the typical bull-rider womanizer that his reputation spoke of. She wanted to get to know him better. And if he was as good as he seemed to be, she was going to work on being more social. The thought of it cheered her up some. It would be good to have some nice kissing memories, especially with a handsome cowboy. She stared at Shane's sensual mouth and felt a little thrill of excitement at the thought of going out on a real date. "I have a family obligation—family night. I'd love a rain check though. Are you going to be around next week for San Antonio?"

"I'll be there late Wednesday night. Do you want to try for dinner on Thursday?"

"You bet," she said before she could let her nerves change her mind. Even if nothing came of this, it would be good for her to get out with someone other than family. Someone who loved animals the way she did.

"You used to work around here, right?" he asked. "Do you know a good steakhouse I could go to tonight?"

"I do, but aren't you sick of steak?"

"You're not going to recommend a sushi place or something like that, are you?" he asked with a slight wince.

"No, I was going to recommend this Brazilian barbecue restaurant. It's a meat marathon. They keep bringing you all sorts of beef, pork, lamb, chicken, you name it, by the platter until you tell them you can't eat any more."

"That sounds like my kind of place."

She gave him the address of Churrascaria and felt a pang of regret that she wasn't going to be there with him to eat way too much picanha.

Shane tipped his hat to her again and her toes curled at the admiring twinkle in his eyes. He could be a pleasant way to put Dr. Kilgore's asshattery out of her mind once and for all.