One Night with a Red-Hot Rancher. Diana Palmer
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chuckled. “You really have got to take an assertiveness course,” he said, and not unkindly.
“It’s hard to be assertive when you’re shy,” she argued.
“It’s impossible not to be when you have a job like mine and people don’t want to do what you tell them to,” he returned. “Some animals would die if I couldn’t outargue their owners.”
“Point taken.”
“If it’s any consolation,” he said, “when I was your age, I had the same problem.”
“How did you overcome it?”
“My stepfather decided that my mother wasn’t going to the doctor for a urinary tract infection. I was already in veterinary school, and I knew what happened when animals weren’t treated for it. I told him. He told me he was the man of the house and he’d decide what my mother did.” He smiled, remembering. “So I had a choice—either back down, or let my mother risk permanent damage to her health, even death. I told him she was going to the doctor, I put her in the car and drove her there myself.”
“What did your stepfather do?” she asked, aghast.
“There wasn’t much that he could do, since I paid the doctor.” His face hardened. “And it wasn’t the first disagreement we’d had. He was poor and proud with it. He’d have let her suffer rather than admit he couldn’t afford a doctor visit or medicine.” He looked down at her. “It’s a hell of a world, when people have to choose between food and medicine and doctors. Or between heated houses and medicine.”
“Tell me about it,” she replied. She colored a little, and hoped he didn’t notice. “Kell and I do all right,” she said quickly. “But he’ll go without medicine sometimes if I don’t put my foot down. You’d think I’d be tough as nails, because I stand up to him.”
“He’s not a mean person.”
“He could be, I think,” she said. She hesitated. “There was a man I dated, briefly, in San Antonio.” She hesitated again. Perhaps it was too soon for this.
He stepped closer. “A man.”
His voice was very soft. Quiet. Comforting. She wrapped her arms around her chest. She had on a sweater, but it was chilly outside. The memories were just as chilling. She was recalling it, her face betraying her inner turmoil. He’d hit her. The first time, he said it was because he’d had a drink, and he cried, and she went back to him. But the second time, he’d have probably killed her if Kell hadn’t heard her scream and come to save her. As it was, he’d fractured her arm when he threw her over the couch. Kell had knocked Frank out with a lamp, from his wheelchair, and made her call the police. He made her testify, too. She held her arms around herself, chilled by the memory.
“What happened?”
She looked up at him, wanting to tell him, but afraid to. Frank got a six-month sentence, but he’d already served three months and he was out. Would he come after her now? Would he be crazy enough to do that? And would Bentley believe her, if she told him? They barely knew each other. It was too soon, she thought. Much too soon, to drag out her past and show it to him. There was no reason to tell him anyway. Frank wouldn’t come down here and risk being sent back to jail. Bentley might think less of her if she told him, might think it was her own fault. Besides, she didn’t want to tell him yet.
“He was a mean sort of person, that’s all,” she hedged. “He kicked my cat. I thought it was terrible. He just laughed.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “A man who’ll kick a cat will kick a human being.”
“You’re probably right,” she admitted, and then she smiled. “Well, I only dated him for a little while. He wasn’t the sort of person I like to be around. Kell didn’t like him, either.”
“I like your brother.”
She smiled. “I like him, too. He was just going downhill with depression in San Antonio. We were over our ears in debt, from all the hospital bills. It’s lucky our cousin died and left us this place,” she added.
Bentley’s eyebrows lifted. “This place belonged to Harry Farley. He got killed overseas in the military about six months ago. He didn’t have any relatives at all. The county buried him, out of respect for his military service.”
“But Kell said…” she blurted out.
Her expression made Bentley hesitate. “Oh. Wait a minute,” Bentley said at once. “That’s right, I did hear that he had a distant cousin or two.”
She laughed. “That’s us.”
“My mistake. I wasn’t thinking.” He studied her quietly. “Well, I guess I’d better go. This is the first Saturday night I can remember when I didn’t get called out,” he added with a smile. “Pure dumb luck, I guess.”
“Law of averages,” she countered. “You have to get lucky sooner or later.”
“I guess. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Thanks again for the pizza.”
He opened the door of the Land Rover. “I’ll take you up on the offer of supper,” he said. “When we set a date, you can tell me what you want to fix and I’ll bring the raw ingredients.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “It does no good to argue with me. You can’t win. Just ask Keely. Better yet, ask Dr. King,” he chuckled.
She laughed, too. “Okay, then.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
He closed the door behind him. Cappie went back up on the porch and watched him throw up a hand as he drove away. She stood there for several seconds before she realized that the wind was chilling her. She went in, feeling happier than she had in a long time.
CAPPIE FELT awkward with Bentley the following Monday. She wasn’t sure if she should mention that he’d been to her house over the weekend. Her coworkers were very nice, but she was nervous when she thought they might tease her about the doctor. That would never do. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable in his own office.
Having lived so long in San Antonio, she didn’t know about life in small towns. It hadn’t occurred to her that nothing that happened could be kept secret.
“How was the pizza?” Dr. King asked her.
Cappie stared at her in horror.
Dr. King grinned. “My cousin works at the pizza place. Dr. Rydel mentioned where he was taking it. And she’s best friends with Art, who runs the software store, so she knew he was taking the game over to play with you and your brother.”
“Oh, dear,” Cappie said worriedly.
Dr. King patted her on the back. “There, there,” she said in a comforting tone. “You’ll get used to it. We’re like a big family in Jacobs County, because most of us have lived here all our lives, and our families have lived here for generations, mostly. We know everything that’s going on. We only read the newspaper to find out who got caught doing it.”
“Oh, dear,” Cappie said again.
“Hi,” Keely said, removing her coat as she joined them. “How was the game Saturday?” she added.
Cappie looked close to tears.
Dr. King gave Keely a speaking glance. “She’s not used to small towns yet,” she explained.
“Not to worry,” Keely told her. “Dr. Rydel certainly is.” She laughed at Cappie’s tormented expression. “If he was worried about gossip, you’d better believe he’d never have put