The Cowboy And The Baby. Marie Ferrarella
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a natural,” she told Cody, beaming.
“I’m not doing anything but walking,” Cody pointed out.
He heard the door behind him opening. Turning, he was about to tell whomever had come in that service was temporarily on hold until further notice.
But he didn’t have to say anything. It wasn’t a new patient. Red had returned to the clinic.
“Couldn’t find Flint?” Cody asked the older man. Red hadn’t been gone very long, but, then, Cody had no right to expect him to scour the area. After all, Flint belonged to him, not Red.
“Didn’t really have to look,” Red replied. “That is one loyal stallion you’ve got yourself there, McCullough. Saw him coming right into the outskirts of town, as pretty as you please, minding his own business like he didn’t have a care in the world and was just out for a morning stroll. Had to gentle him a little before I tied him to the hitching post down the street, but that’s to be expected. He’s waiting for you there,” the ranch hand informed him.
Well, that was a relief, Cody thought. He hadn’t realized he was so concerned until just this moment. He supposed this morning’s events had stretched his nerves taut to the very limit.
“I appreciate it,” Cody told the man.
“Yeah, yeah,” Red dismissed the words of gratitude. “I said a beer would square us, remember? Now I’ll go tell the sheriff you’re safe and sound. See you around, McCullough,” he told Cody.
Inclining his head in a show of respect, Red nodded at Mrs. Moretti just before he left the clinic.
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