Hearing gravel crunch in front of the clinic, Cole hauled himself off the bucket and walked over to the window. He saw his sister’s car parked out front, so he went back to the mare to make sure her lead rope was tied securely to the front of the metal stanchion. She was still under the effect of the drugs and wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. Satisfied that all was safe for the moment, he hastened through the clinic’s back door and toward the lobby.
Jessie had been a lifesaver, keeping the girls with her most of the summer. But he missed them when they were gone. He missed Liv. Hell, he missed everything about his old life.
“Dad-dy!” Sophie’s girlish voice lilted. She came running into the lobby, colliding with Cole’s legs as he braced himself. Sophie was built like a small halfback, short and stout.
Cole bent down and picked her up, hugging her solid body against his chest. “Sophie! You’ve grown a foot,” he said, leaning back to look down into her face.
Sophie’s amber eyes danced, a grin bunching her freckled cheeks. Her dark curls were gathered back and held with a silky red scarf, no doubt a souvenir from Jessie’s wardrobe.
“Aunt Jessie said maybe we could go eat at Clucken House. Can we, Dad? Can we?” Sophie paused for a breath.
“Hold on a minute, squirt. Let me give your Aunt Jessie and your sister a hug.” Cole met Jessie’s hazel eyes over Sophie’s shoulder. It never failed to amaze him how well his kid sister had turned out, her hair styled and highlighted and her designer clothes immaculate. Letting Sophie slide to the ground, he continued to hold her with one arm while he reached to give his sister a quick hug. “How was your trip?”
“Just fine. The girls were eager to get home.” Jessie slipped an arm around Angela’s waist, drawing her forward from where she’d been hanging back.
Cole swept an observant gaze over his oldest. Fifteen-year-old Angela wore her typical aloof expression, but when he smiled at her, she returned it. With her pale-blond, shoulder-length hair; smooth white skin; and eyes the color of cornflowers, Angela was the image of her mother. The resemblance struck Cole harder than usual, leaving him with an empty feeling around his solar plexus.
“Hey, Angel,” Cole said, using the childhood nickname he’d given Angela years ago. “Can I have a hug?”
“Hi, Dad.” She stepped forward without hesitation, reaching up to encircle Cole’s neck with her arms. She even gave his cheek a quick kiss, showing that she must be in a good mood. When she’d left a week ago, she hadn’t been nearly so friendly. In fact, she’d been moody all summer. Not surprising, but certainly a challenge to deal with.
Cole drew a deep breath and gazed around the group. “To answer your question, Sophie, yes, you can go to Clucken House for dinner tonight.”
“Yay!” Sophie jumped in excitement. Then she sobered. “Did Mom call while we were gone?”
“No, Sophie-bug. I haven’t heard from her.”
Sophie’s eyes filled, and her face worked to keep from crying. “Oh, okay.”
Her resignation hurt Cole as much, if not more, than her tears could.
Damn it, Liv, didn’t you think about your children before you decided to leave?
“I tell you what,” he said. “I have to wait for a hurt dog to come into the clinic, but why don’t you guys go ahead and eat?” He reached for his wallet. “Here, Angela, you take some money with you to treat your Aunt Jessie. I’ll come there when I can. I just don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for this dog.”
Angela leveled her cool, blue gaze at him, and Jessie gave him a frown. He realized he’d said something wrong.
“We just got here, Dad,” Angela said.
“I’m not trying to get rid of you, Angel. I just thought you must be hungry.” He turned to Sophie and drew a red bandanna from his pocket to wipe the tears that had trickled down her cheeks.
“Come on, squirt, don’t be sad. If you’re not too hungry, could you stay here and visit with me for a little while?”
Sophie sniffed. “Yes.”
Cole sat down in one of the lobby chairs, taking Sophie onto his lap. “What did you girls do this week?”
“I took them into the office a couple times to rearrange files,” Jessie said. “I needed to move the old ones out to storage. Angela took over and completely restructured my system.”
Cole met his daughter’s eyes. “Way to go, Ange.”
A smile of satisfaction softened her face. “It was Aunt Jessie’s idea.”
Jessie said, “But you carried it out. I could’ve never done all that by myself.”
“Did I help?” Sophie said, the plaintive tone coming back into her voice.
“You sure did,” Jessie said.
“Yeah, right,” Angela countered, spoiling everything.
“That’s not nice,” Sophie whined.
“The truth hurts.”
A muscle tensed in Cole’s jaw, leaving a sore spot.
“I’m starved,” Jessie chimed in. “I could eat a whole steer, but I’ll settle for a Clucken burger.”
Cole threw her a grateful look.
Angela rolled her eyes. “You and Dad always eat hamburgers at Clucken House. How can you go there without eating chicken?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jessie said. “We were raised on beef, I guess.”
“Beef. It’s what’s for dinner,” Cole said, wiggling his eyebrows at his daughters.
Angela didn’t miss a beat. “Beef. It’s what clogs your arteries.”
Cole clapped a hand over his heart. “Angel . . . say it ain’t so.”
Smiling now, Sophie bounced off his lap and headed toward the door. “I’m having a hamburger, too. Just like Aunt Jessie and Daddy.”
Cole walked them out to the car, opening doors on the passenger side for his daughters, getting Angela settled in front and Sophie in back. When he finished, Jessie signaled to meet her by the trunk. In a hushed voice, she said, “Cole, you look like hell. What’s going on?”
It was easy to tell that Jessie made her living as an attorney; it had taken her very little time to pin him down.
Cole spoke in the same low tone. “We’ll have to talk later, after the girls have gone to bed. Do you think you could stay here tonight instead of going out to Mom’s?”
Jessie gave him a probing look. “All right. I’ll call and tell her something.”
He watched Jessie and the kids drive away before going back to check on the horse. She looked about the same. He listened to her heartbeat, noting the rate had increased. Removing the stethoscope’s earpieces, he straightened and observed her for a moment.
She wasn’t out of the woods yet.
The mare stood as she had before, gray head resting against the front bar of the stocks, eyelids lowered, lips slack. When he pressed and released the pink membrane of her gums, it blanched and stayed white for too long, indicating poor capillary infusion. The mare was going into shock.
Apparently, his treatment had supported her for a short time, restored her fluids and diminished her pain, but it hadn’t solved the problem. He’d known this was more than a simple colic and now he suspected a torsion.
He reached for the bottle of analgesic, inserted the needle, and pulled ten cc’s into the syringe. Grasping the buffalo cap at the end of the IV tubing, he jabbed the needle through it to deliver the pain medication into the mare’s bloodstream. He hoped he could make her more comfortable.