“A few things? You’ve got to be staying longer than a few days, then,” she says, leaning over the counter like she’s settling in for a story. “I heard you were here with that fancy doctor degree of yours trying to figure out what’s causing all these cattle to get sick. That true?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.”
“Such a shame about all these ranches losing so much money. A lot of ’em are panicking. Well, you know that. We all know if your daddy swallowed his pride and asked you for help, there’s a problem.”
I swallow hard and slowly inhale, doing my best not to physically react to her observation. I’m not quite sure if she’s saying that my dad was in the wrong or that he’s just desperate and I was a last resort.
I turn to grab a candy bar off the shelf. I close my eyes and do a couple of slow inhales and exhales.
Don’t let this woman get in your head, Sutton.
“Heard you’re up at the Callahan Ranch. How’s that going? That’s mighty questionable considering the bad blood between your daddies. I bet your daddy was fit to be tied when he found out you were staying there. You and Wade…oh, never mind. Haven’t seen Wade in here for a bit. That Caleb, though. Such a good kid.”
I keep my face neutral, grabbing a loaf of bread from the shelf. “It’s going fine. Just getting things sorted.”
Her eyes gleam. “Well, you’ll have your hands full up there. Wade’s been…” She pauses, her tone turning conspiratorial. “Busy. Is he seeing someone new? You know about Heather, don’t you?”
Good to see some people never change.
She’s been gossiping about anyone and everyone for as long as I can remember.
It’s best to play along until I can get out of here. Heaven forbid she start telling people I’ve turned into a snob or something equally as ridiculous. Not that it matters; people already have their minds made up about me as it is.
“I wouldn’t know about Wade’s dating life.” I glance at her, raising an eyebrow. I think she’s already off on another tangent and ask, “Heather?”
“Oh, you know Heather Letterman,” she says, waving a hand as if that explains everything. “She’s been on and off again with Wade for years. Poor thing thinks they’re getting back together every other week, but let me tell you, she’s no good for him. No drive, no ambition. Wade doesn’t like that. He needs someone who can match him, you know?”
I hum noncommittally, grabbing a jar of peanut butter. Martha doesn’t notice; she’s already on a roll.
“Heather goes around telling people they’re together when they’re not. It’s sad, really. She’s convinced herself it’s only a matter of time, but Wade? He’s not having it. Mark my words, that boy’s waiting for someone better.” She leans closer, her eyes practically glittering. “What about you, Sutton? I know you got bad blood, but I always thought you two would be good together. You two ever…” She pauses dramatically before she leans in with a conspiratorial whisper. “I won’t tell a soul—you two ever hook up?”
I cut her off with a laugh, shaking my head. “Just here to help with the local herds, Miss Turner. I’m not interested in mixing business with pleasure.”
“Hmm,” she says, clearly unconvinced. “Well, you be careful what you say around here. Folks love to talk.”
Sheloves to talk. She can say that the rest of the town is full of gossips, but she is the worst one. Always has been.
I bite back a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She’s still watching me as I pay for my groceries and head out the door, the bell jingling behind me. I load the bags into the truck and glance down the street. The feed store is next, and I’m already bracing myself for more small-town charm.
The place still smells like hay and leather, a combination that immediately brings me back to summers spent helping Dad load up supplies. Sam Garcia is standing by the counter, chatting with the clerk. His face lights up when he sees me.
“Sutton! It’s been ages,” he says, pulling me into a quick hug.
Sam’s been a friend of my dad’s for as long as I can remember, and his presence feels like a tether to the past. He looks as though he hasn’t aged a bit, either.
“Hey, Sam,” I say, smiling. “Just picking up a few things. You find the fountain of youth or something? I look older than you.”
“Nonsense. You’ve always been my favorite for a reason,” he says with a wide grin. His eyes shift to the man standing besidehim, and I can tell by the look on his face that he’s not happy to introduce me. “Sutton, this is Dr. Michael Reed. He’s a regional ag officer. Doc, this here is Doctor Sutton Bishop. She’s from a fancy lab out west in Billings, Montana. She’s a veterinarian with a specialty in bovine medicine.”
Damn it, there’s an ag officer in town already? That’s not good.
Ag officers are great in theory, but this man being in town can mean a lot of problems physically and especially financially for the ranchers. They could force the owners to cull, or kill off infected livestock, causing them to lose thousands. If the ranchers are losing money, that means they’re not spending it in town either. It’s a quick downhill slide for the economy.
Unfortunately, most of these officers don’t see the value of treating. They don’t want to be responsible for a widespread epidemic, so they jump to culling almost immediately. They’re typically not willing to work with the local vets or even listen to anyone else’s concerns.
I’ve had other colleagues who’ve told me horror stories about officers coming in and many ranches having to shut down because they can’t financially recover from such a big loss.
