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Callum
It’s been one hell of a day, I think wearily as I pull into a parking space in Ruthie’s driveway and kill my truck’s engine.
I was already on my way over to Hal Stevens’ office earlier today when Doc Smith called me, frantic about a pricey dressage horse with severe colic.
“I’m a hundred miles away right now and that horse might need surgery,” he said. “Can you do it?”
I canceled my meeting with Hal and hauled ass to Doc Smith’s hospital to meet the trailer as it pulled up. A half-million dollar Dutch Warmblood mare pawed and snorted inside. She was in terrible pain until I got some medication into her, and I was furious at her owner for letting it get this bad before calling a vet. I managed to get things under control before she needed surgery, and she’s recovering at the hospital. I’m exhausted and filthy now, ready for a hot shower and a cold beer. And to see Hazel.
“Baby brother,” Reid says as I walk in the door. “You look like shit.”
“I’ve been up to my elbows in it,” I say. I sniff my shirt and grimace. “I hate horses sometimes.”
I take a quick shower and throw on some clean clothes before I head downstairs again to find Hazel. The sound of feminine chatter draws me into the informal sitting room, where Ruthie, Hazel, and Ruthie’s best friend Esther sit with glasses of wine. Hal Stevens is in there, too, just packing up his bag.
I don’t think much of it—Hal is Ruthie’s accountant, after all, and it’s easier for him to drive here to talk to her than for her to drive out in the snow and ice. He’s probably happy to do it for a client with her wealth.
“I thought teatime wasn’t for a couple days?” I ask.
“They’re my friends and I can invite them over as often as I like,” Grandma Ruthie replies with a lifted eyebrow.
“Hi Callum,” Hazel says as I lean down and press a kiss on top of her head. I feel Ruthie’s eyes on me, and look up to see her flash a satisfied smile.
“I saw your message about that horse,” Ruthie says as I walk over to kiss her cheek. “Will she be all right?”
“Yeah, the horse will be fine,” I tell her. “Her owner should’ve called sooner, but that’s how it goes sometimes.”
I step away from Ruthie and make my way over to Hal, stopping him before he gets to the door.
“I’m so sorry that I had to cancel,” I say. “That horse was in bad shape and Doc Smith needed my help.”
He waves a hand. “It’s no trouble. It would’ve been a short meeting, anyway. Doc Smith got another offer for the practice today.”
“Oh.” My heart sinks. I was really warming to the idea of coming back here, and didn’t know there were any other bites on the practice. “Well, that’s that, I guess.”
“What will you do now?” he asks. “Head back to your old office and keep up with the mobile practice?”
“I guess,” I say, thinking of Hazel. “Not sure what else there istodo.”
Hal reaches out and pats my arm. “You’ll figure it out.”
I shrug. “I always do.”
Hal walks out of the room, and when I turn back around, Hazel is staring hard at me, her dark eyebrows furrowed. Ruthie and Esther have wandered off somewhere. Knowing Ruthie, she figured we would want a few minutes of privacy.
Something doesn’t feel right, I think as I look at Hazel’s stormy expression.
I hurry over to her and sink down into the cushion next to her.
“Is something wrong?” I ask her. I reach out and take her hand, but she pulls it away as she shakes her head.
“I feel so stupid,” she says. I see her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Sostupid.”
“Whoa, whoa.” I straighten and turn to face her. “What’s this about?”
“I wish you’d just told me that you don’t plan to stay. Here I am, coming to really care for you, and you’re not sticking around,” she says. A tear trickles down her cheek and she dashes it away with a fist. “I just got so wrapped up in your carriage rides and trips out to see Goldie—I hoped you weren’t going to just take off again in a few days. I guess I was deluding myself.”
Her words prickle at my brain, and my eyebrows furrow. “I care about you, Hazel. But we just met. I don’t have to run all my choices by you.”
