Ray doesn't seem to notice. He's already walking toward the bull, in a pasture not far from the metal shed I scoped out last week. He gestures to the animal's front leg. “Started favoring it yesterday. Thought maybe he stepped on something, but I can't find any obvious injury.”
I force myself to focus on the bull even though I can feel Kelly’s eyes still on me. The animal is massive—easily two thousand pounds of muscle and aggression. He snorts as I approach, his eyes rolling white, but Ray keeps him steady with practiced ease.
I set my bag down and move slowly, letting the bull see me, letting him adjust to my presence. “Easy,” I murmur. “Nobody's going to hurt you.”
I run my hands down the bull's front leg, feeling for heat, swelling, any sign of injury. The bull shifts his weight but doesn't pull away. I focus on the examination and clinical assessment, repeating in my mind that I’m not suspicious. I’m being exactly what I'm supposed to be: a veterinarian doing her job.
But my skin prickles with awareness. Behind me, Kelly's stare is like a physical weight.
“Looks like a stone bruise,” I say finally, straightening. “Nothing serious, but he'll need a few days of rest. Keep him off hard ground if you can and rub liniment on him, twice a day. If he gets worse, call me and I’ll get you some anti-inflammatory meds.”
Ray nods. “Appreciate it, Doc.”
I reach for my bag, ready to leave, ready to get the hell off this property. Ray escorts me back toward my car.
“You’re the vet?”
Kelly's voice cuts through the air, casual and conversational.
I freeze, panic threatening to close my throat. Pressing my thumbnail into my finger, I force myself to turn around slowly and meet his eyes for the first time.
His eyes are pale blue, sharp and assessing, and they almost make me throw up. I frown, figuring I can pass off my reaction as bewilderment. “No, I just carry the doctor’s bag for kicks,” I say before I can stop myself. I wince inside. Not exactly the way to keep incognito.
I try again, hoping to smooth this over and fade back into the woodwork. “I’m Dr. Carter, the vet. I took over Dr. Harrison's practice a year ago.”
“From where?”
The question is innocent enough. But there's something in the way he asks it—something that feels like a test.
“Colorado,” I lie smoothly. “I needed a change of pace.”
Kelly's mouth curves into something that might be a smile. “Iron Ridge is definitely a change of pace.”
I force myself to return the smile. “That's what I'm counting on.”
Ray clears his throat. “I'll walk you back to your truck, Doc.”
I nod, grateful for the escape route.
But Kelly pushes off the fence and falls into step beside us. “Small town like this, it must be hard for a single woman.”
My blood chills. I swallow my fear, managing to say, “You’re assuming I’m single.”
“I swear I know you from somewhere.”
I shake my head, hurrying toward my truck. “You’ve probably seen me if you’ve been out to any of the local spots, like the Rusty Spur or the diner.”
“Right.” He snaps his finger, but it doesn’t feel genuine. It feels like he’s setting a trap for me. “I saw you last week at the bar. You were there that night too, right, Hutchins?”
“We always go Friday nights,” Ray says, stopping a good distance away, like a normal person.
“The boys do like to unwind,” Kelly says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Then he glances over his shoulder. “Hutchins, did you check to make sure Michaels unloaded the delivery truck that arrived this morning?”
Ray winces. “I’ll go do that. Thanks again, Doc Carter.”
I watch him leave, torn between getting away from Kelly and following him to see what they’re unloading. I catch Kelly watching me like he knows what I’m thinking. Was it a trick to see how I’d react? I focus on reaching the truck.
Kelly stays with me, a little too close. His tone is light, conversational, but his eyes are locked on my face, searching. “Friday night you were talking to Mason Rivera.”
