Page 16 of Revelry
“Couple of weeks ago,” Duke replied, pulling at the cuff of his expensive-looking suit.
“How old was it?”
“A few days.”
The cow mooed in sorrow, and I felt an answering pang in my chest, I hated seeing animals in distress.
Sighing, I turned to Duke. “You’re just going to have to wait. She’s missing her baby and only time will help her move on. Maybe next time don’t take the calf away?”
Duke arched a thick, dark brow. “That’s the best you got?”
“Yep,” I shrugged. “Some animals get attached too. It might be worth remembering that before you sell ’em off to make money.”
Duke’s dark stare bored into me, his expression smooth but there was a tic in his jaw. “I’m not the only person who does it, Dr. Wilder.”
Like I said, I had a lot of respect for Duke, but I loved animals and when someone wasn’t as caring as they should be, it bothered me.
“No, you’re not, but I bet you’re a bit morebusinessabout it than most folks round here. With any luck over the next few days, she’ll move on. If she doesn’t, let her have another one and don’t take it away from her.” I grabbed my satchel and headed out of the barn where the cow was being kept with a couple of others.
I heard Duke’s footsteps coming up behind me. I should feel bad about chastising him, but I didn’t need him as a client. I had more than enough on my plate as both a vet and a farrier, so I could drop a customer or two and not lose any sleep over it, especially when it was one whose practices weren’t always in the best interests of the animal.
“That’s yourprofessionalopinion?” Duke spat.
“Yes, it is. You’ll get my invoice. Have a good evening.”
After my visit to Raleigh, I drove over to one of the local farms to check on some chickens and then finally I was heading home.
The sun set behind me as I pulled onto the little cul-de-sac. A sense of dread filled me when I saw that damn pink Beetle still in the driveway next door. Surely, she was done visiting her mom by now and should be going back to wherever she came from?
The frustration helped me burn through a particularly vigorous workout while I tried to examine why I was so bothered by that pink Beetle and its owner. Was it because my OCD knew the vehicle shouldn’t be there? It wasn’t usually, and I didn’t cope well with change. Or maybe it was old memories that Gertrude stirred up. I tried not to let them bother me; they were nothing compared to other incidents from my childhood.
I lifted weights until my arms were shaking from the strain and my shirt was damp, my glasses fogging up. I dropped the barbell with a clang and stomped to the shower to rinse off. I half dressed, still warm from the workout, so pulled on my sweatpants but slung a t-shirt over my shoulder and headed down to cook dinner.
Halfway through sauteing my vegetables, there was a knock at the door. I turned my head towards it and frowned. No one ever knocked on my door, it was one of the things I loved about living here.
Hating my routine being interrupted, I huffed and switched off the burners. I trudged out to the door and pulled it open, my frown deepening when I saw who was standing there.
“Hey neighbor!” Gertrude called cheerfully, a megawatt smile on her pretty pink lips. They almost matched the color of her Beetle. The fact I’d noticed had me frowning harder. Her blue eyes slid over my torso before I remembered my t-shirt still slung over my shoulder. Her stare continued lazily, lingering here and there before snapping back up to meet my eyes, her cheeks flushing prettily.
I cursed inwardly at the way my stomach clenched at her perusal. “Gertrude,” I responded.
“It’s Gertie,” she replied with a wink.
I pinched my lips together; I refused to shorten her name. I hated that the boys at school used to call her Flirty Gertie, like that’s all she was good for when she was so much more than that.
Her hands were plugged on her round hips, her thick thighs barely covered in her denim shorts, her bare little feet with their pink-tipped toes wiggling for my attention.
I wanted to nibble them.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “How can I help you, Gertrude?”
She pouted at my use of her full name but didn’t say anything. “Mom wanted me to give you this. She and Cathy didn’t get a chance to see you before they left. Said you were always out working when they came around.” She held out an envelope and I looked at it for a long time before taking it from her hand with nails the same color as her toes.
I glanced at the envelope but it only readTate. I flicked my stare back to her, noticing her bruise was all gone and so was the cut on her mouth.
That damn mouth of hers was flawless.
“Anything else?”
