Page 45 of Roping Her In

Bev laid the papers in her lap and pulled out her phone. Boone Carver wanted to retire, and she’d been working with him for the past six months to learn his practice and get to know his clients. She had to earn the trust of small-town people, and they’d seemed to warm to her well enough.

“I’m at the clinic tomorrow until three-thirty,” she said, looking over her shoulder to where Stetson chopped something on a cutting board. “I could come up after that, Stetson.”

He looked up, surprise in his eyes. The knife slowed as his smile spread across his handsome face. “You know, no one calls me Stetson except my momma, and only when I’m in trouble.”

Bev slid the papers onto the couch and got to her feet. “Is that why you looked startled just now?”

“Yes,” he said, and he laughed afterward. “I wish you’d call me Smiles. All my friends do.”

The words Bev wanted to ask, What do your girlfriends call you? stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t get them out. She definitely needed to get dating again—but not Stetson—so she could learn how things worked here in small town Three Rivers. She could make the mistakes she was sure to make with other men, and not the glorious male specimen in front of her.

“Smiles,” she said, the word feeling strange in her mouth. “I suppose I can try.”

“Do you suppose you know how to peel potatoes?” He held up a silver vegetable peeler, his smile simply the most glorious sight on God’s green earth.

She couldn’t cage her own grin. “I thought you were making dinner for me.”

“I am,” he said. “I will. You can lay down on that couch and take a nap.”

Bev looked at it, and it sure did look comfortable. One look back at him, and she stepped in his direction and took the peeler from him, because she’d rather stand at his side and help with dinner than lay on the couch and stew with her complicated thoughts and feelings.

Maybe she was ready to start dating, and maybe she wasn’t. No matter what, Bev felt comfortable with Smiles Glover, and she wanted to rekindle her friendship with him at the very least.

18

Hailey eyed the ramp leading up to the entrance of the administration trailer with extreme distrust. She’d been in the birthing shed when the freezing fog had rolled in. Rain had followed, but everything had already been so cold that it had frozen upon contact.

The buildings, the cars, the fence lines, the barbed wire, everything Hailey looked at—including the ramp—looked like it had been coated in clear nail polish and left to dry. Of course, the ice was far slipperier than nail polish, and she’d gotten a text on the Three Rivers Ranch-wide emergency system, grounding everyone and advising that they return to their cabins if possible.

If they didn’t live on the ranch, the way Hailey didn’t, they’d been advised to gather at the administration trailer or any other building they could get to safely. Rusty Jackson, Libby’s husband, had sent the texts. Answers had started coming in immediately from various cowboys around the ranch.

Pete and Chelsea had offered their house as shelter, as had Libby and every other cowboy who happened to be at home when the grounding order had gone out. Paul had said he was in the arena at Courage Reins and would stay there to coordinate sheltering efforts. Jake had texted to say that he was in his office and would stay in the administration trailer to make sure everyone there would be taken care of.

In the past five weeks since Hailey had been working at the ranch, she’d come to realize that Jake operated as the lead veterinarian, yes, but also in a major managerial role. He met regularly with Pete and Paul Marshall, Brynn and Ethan Greene—and their stable manager, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a big voice and even bigger personality, named Clarence Boyce—and Libby and Rusty to make sure he understood all of the livestock needs at the various facilities around the ranch. He met with Beau and Charlotte, the foreman and stable manager on the ranch, and he had regular meetings with his vet techs and now his interns.

All told, he probably spent half of his working hours in meetings, and everyone on the ranch looked to him for advice, or to know what to do in any given situation. Hailey realized she fell into that camp as well, as Jake had immediately texted her off the emergency string, and asked, Where are you? I can come help you to the admin building or my cabin.

She’d been in the birthing shed, checking on the three new calves that had been born in the past thirty-six hours. The births had slowed now that February had arrived, though Jake claimed they still had about seventy-five pregnant heifers who needed to deliver.

Her shift had ended on this fine Wednesday, and she should’ve been on her way to Feline Friends when the grounding order came in. She’d quickly fired off texts to Jake to tell him she was in the birthing shed, and then Lila Mae to let her know she wouldn’t be able to make the drive to the cat rescue facility that afternoon.

We’re setting up a rope system from the admin building to the main homestead, and we’ll put one from the admin building to the birthing shed as well. If you’re in either of those areas and can help, chime in, Beau had texted.

Everyone at Three Rivers seemed ready to jump at the chance to help, and Hailey enjoyed working in such a positive atmosphere. She, however, had stood on the sidelines as cowboys taller and stronger than her set up the rope between the birthing shed and the administration trailer.

She’d then made the slip-sliding trek with both hands on the rope at all times. Now all she had to do was get up this blasted ramp, where the heat of the administration trailer would welcome her with soft kisses across her cheeks, and the promise of somewhere comfortable to sit while she ate lunch.

She heard two cowboys laughing from around the corner of the building, and she needed to get up this ramp before she had to do it in front of them. Before she could find the grit she needed to take the first step, the door of the building opened and Jake came out.

He looked right and then left, relief painting across his handsome features when he saw her frozen at the bottom of the ramp. “There you are.” He moved to the edge of the overhang and kicked through the small pile of ice that had fallen from the roof and gathered there.

“I don’t know where to put my feet,” Hailey said, a slip of embarrassment moving through her. She told herself she didn’t need to feel this way with Jake. They’d been dating for two weeks now, though admittedly, they’d only actually gone out twice, and he hadn’t kissed her again. She knew he was deliberately waiting, though for what she wasn’t sure.

“You’ve got your steel-toed boots on.” He grinned at her and grabbed onto the railing as he extended his hand toward her. “You just kick into the ice, and it creates a little step.”

“I don’t know if I can kick into the ice,” she grumbled, but she grabbed onto the railing with her right hand, and about six inches up the ramp, kicked into the ice with the toe of her right boot. It did give way, and she created a tiny three-inch platform that she could balance on if she stood on tippy-toe. She did that and adjusted her hand up another distance.

“Just like that,” Jake said. “Two or three more, and I’ll grab you.”