Second-Chance Cowboy Page 3

  “I’d say Sepp needs to hire more waitresses but I know he already has enough,” Boyce continued.

  Again, she could only nod as she put Nathan’s burger and fries in front of him.

  “Is there anything else I can get you? More coffee? Chocolate milk?”

  She looked over at Nathan, who was staring at her. “Grandpa Boyce says that there’s not too many people who can train horses here and that you can. Are you sure you can’t?”

  Were they still on that topic?

  Tabitha’s resolve wavered as the boy’s eyes pleaded silently with her.

  “Miss Rennie has other things she’s busy with,” Morgan said, looking at Nathan, his voice gentle. But she heard a warning in the words.

  Stay away from my son.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” she said, giving him a look of regret. “Working here and at the clinic and fixing up my house keeps me very busy.”

  Then she walked away. She couldn’t get involved though she felt very sorry for the little boy. She only knew snippets of the boy’s story. His mother spent most of her time chasing her rodeo dreams and dragged him along. He didn’t seem connected to Morgan, which made her wonder what had happened between Morgan and his wife.

  Not that it mattered to her. Morgan was part of her past. She had her own plans for the future. And they didn’t include sticking around a town that was such a source of pain and humiliation to her.

  She couldn’t afford any distractions and Morgan and his son were a huge one.

  * * *

  “Will you be okay?” Morgan knelt in front of Nathan on the floor of the school’s hallway, handing him the backpack he had painstakingly packed this morning. Young kids ran past them, calling out to each other, their voices echoing in the busy hallway, bumping them in their rush to get to their own classes.

  Yesterday morning he and Nathan had visited the school to see about enrolling him for the last few weeks of Grade Two. Though he still had his concerns, he had to think of what the counselor had told them after Gillian’s death. That it was important that Morgan and Nathan find their new normal as soon as possible.

  Thankfully Nathan hadn’t objected to going to school, and if Morgan was honest with himself, it gave both of them a break from each other. Taking care of a seven-year-old was way out of his comfort zone. Especially a sullen young boy who rejected any advances Morgan made to him.

  “This is a good school,” Morgan said, injecting a bright note of enthusiasm in his voice. “I used to go here when I was a kid.”

  Nathan took the backpack without looking at Morgan, saying nothing.

  Morgan reached out to lay his hand on his son’s shoulder but Nathan pulled away, then walked into the schoolroom and went directly to his designated locker.

  “You can come in with him, if you like,” the perky young woman encouraged with a bright smile. “I know it’s his first day here.”

  Just then Morgan caught Nathan looking at him, eyes wide, shaking his head a vehement “No.”

  Really? He couldn’t even do this for his son?

  He wished it didn’t hurt so much.

  “I think I’ll stay here to see him settle in,” Morgan said.

  “Of course.” He could tell the teacher was puzzled, but he was fairly sure she dealt with a variety of parents, so he tried not to take Nathan’s clear-cut rejection to heart.

  He watched a few more moments as Nathan trudged to his desk, then sat down, holding his pencil case that they had bought yesterday, looking down.

  Morgan’s heart broke at the sight but he felt stuck. Nathan didn’t want to spend time with him, and Morgan wanted to get started at the vet clinic as soon as possible.

  Wednesday, at the Brand and Grill, was the last time he’d seen Nathan act with any kind of animation when he was talking to Tabitha. Which made him nervous, especially because ever since then, the only thing Nathan would actually talk with him about was training his mother’s horse so he could ride it.

  And getting Tabitha to do it.

  There was no way he could allow that. He didn’t think he could be around Tabitha that much and, more important for his son, he didn’t want him to build a connection to someone who was leaving soon.

  As he drove to the clinic he found himself praying. Again. Something he’d been doing a lot lately.

  Gillian’s death, gaining custody of Nathan, moving back here had all taken a toll on him. Never mind working with his ex-girlfriend, whom he would be seeing again in a few minutes.

  Help me to stay focused on what I need to, he prayed. I need to be emotionally available for Nathan and protect him.

  As for his own heart, he could take care of that. The grief he had felt after Tabitha broke up with him had morphed into fury, which had settled into a dull resignation. Then Gillian came into his life and things took an entirely different twist.

  His heart would be okay, he told himself. It had to be.

  He checked his watch, once again thankful that Dr. Waters kept such strange hours. 9:30 seemed late to open a vet clinic but he wasn’t complaining. It meant he could bring Nathan to school and still arrive on time at work. And maybe cover the occasional emergency that came up before opening hours.

  He turned the corner to the vet clinic and saw Tabitha’s truck parked out front.

  When Dr. Waters gave him the key to the clinic yesterday, he had planned to come early. Though Dr. Waters had assured him that Tabitha, Cass and Jenny mostly manned the front desk and took care of dispensing, Morgan preferred to know where everything was himself.

  He had also planned to establish his territory, so to speak, before Tabitha came in. Make the clinic his.

  And now here she was already.

  He sighed, sent up another prayer and headed to the back door. It was locked, so he used the key Dr. Waters had given him. He stepped inside the large open room where they worked on horses and cows. It smelled like disinfectant, and though the metal dividers for the various pens were rusted, he could see they were clean.

  The rubber floor matting was also hosed down, water still trickling into the floor drain.

  His footsteps echoed in the large empty space as he made his way down the concrete hallway and then through another door into the clinic proper.

  He paused in the hallway, getting his bearings, then heard humming coming from one of the rooms farther down.

  Tabitha, he guessed, feeling an unwelcome tightening in his chest.

  He was surprised at the flicker of annoyance her obvious good mood created. Clearly she was in a good place in her life. Why that bothered him he didn’t want to analyze.

  She was the one who walked away from you, he reminded himself. Of course she wouldn’t pine after me.

  Like you are for her?

  Not likely. She had taught him a hard lesson. He had to take care of himself and those who belonged to him.

  Like Nathan.

  The thought of his son was a good reminder of where his priorities now lay. And sending up another prayer for strength, he strode down the hallway.

  Tabitha was working in the supply room, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, the early-morning sun from the window behind it creating a halo of light around her head. She was making notes on a clipboard, her lips pursed, her forehead wrinkled in a frown.

  He wanted to make a joke but found himself momentarily tongue-tied, which, in turn, created a low-level frustration. Even after all these years and after all his tough self-talk, why did she still have this effect on him?

  She turned around and saw him. The humming stopped as her mouth fell open and her hand clutched her chest.

  “My goodness. You scared me,” she gasped. “I wasn’t expecting anyone this early.”

  “I thought...” His voice faltered and he cleared his throat. “I t
hought I would come in early. Get myself acquainted with the place.”

  “Sure. Of course. I understand.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m doing some inventory.”

  “Okay. That’s good.” He wanted to say “carry on,” but that would sound patronizing.

  “Would you like me to show you around?” she asked, her gaze flicking from her clipboard to him.

  “I guess that would be helpful.”

  “I can bring you up to speed on some of the animals we have staying here. Let you know what kind of work we do. In case some of it might be new to you.” She stopped there, flushing.

  “Sure.”

  She nodded and he waited, an awkward silence falling over them. “Right. I should do that now,” she finally said, dropping her clipboard onto the counter in front of her. It fell and she bent over to pick it up exactly the same time he did. Their heads hit and pain jolted through him.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, rubbing her head just as he rubbed his.

  Morgan sighed as she carefully set the clipboard on the shelf. This was getting more and more awkward. He was about to say something but she was already swishing past him, her lab coat flaring out behind her.

  “The treatment rooms are here and here,” she said, pointing left and right, like a flight attendant indicating escape routes, as she scurried down the hall ahead of him. “There’s only two. We should have more but Dr. Waters is thrifty. Supply room you’ve already seen. And here’s where we house the animals we’ve treated.” Tabitha opened the door to the large back room and stepped back.

  Morgan frowned as he stepped inside the dark room with its crates stacked one on top of the other.

  “Looks kind of depressing.” Morgan couldn’t believe that there wasn’t even a window or a skylight.

  And it didn’t smell very good.

  “Do the cages get cleaned?” he asked, stopping by one of the crates, which held a Labrador pup with a plastic cone on its head. The puppy was asleep and Morgan reached between the bars and laid his hand on the dog’s stomach. It was not overly warm and breathing properly.

  “Of course they do. Every day.”

  From the defensive tone of Tabitha’s voice, Morgan guessed she was the one who did the cleaning.

  “The building is old and the smell tends to linger,” she continued.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re neglectful.” He looked back at Tabitha, who stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest, her chin up, gaze challenging.

  “So what’s with this little guy?” he asked, pointing to the Lab.

  “Hernia operation. He’s due to go back today.”

  “And this one?” He pointed to a cat who lay on its side, one leg extended out in front of it, bandaged.

  “Severed tendon on his foreleg. Got on the wrong side of a grain auger. He’s lucky to be alive.”

  “How much small-animal work does Dr. Waters do?” Morgan glanced around the rest of the crates but they were all empty.

  “Not as much as he’d like. He prefers the small animals to the large ones. I guess that’s why he hired you.”

  Morgan nodded, remembering the conversation he and Dr. Waters had had. “And what’s the large-animal patients consist of?”

  “It used to be mainly cattle, but with more people moving in and more acreages sprouting up around town and people getting horses, he’s doing more equine. That’s my specialty but he prefers to do that on his own.”

  Her comment puzzled him as did the faintly bitter tone in her voice. “What do you mean, your specialty?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m just the vet assistant,” she said, with a bright smile as if trying to show him she was making a joke. “We don’t have specialties.”

  “But clearly you do,” he said. He found himself suddenly curious. The last he’d heard, she had quit high school. When he found out she was working at the clinic, he had assumed it was only as a general helper.

  “I went back to school a few years after I dropped out of high school. Got my high school diploma, then went to college and graduated as a veterinary assistant and equine specialist. I’m not such a dummy.” She flashed a bright smile, but behind it he sensed an air of defensiveness.

  “I never said you were,” he returned, holding his hands up.

  “Not all of us can get into vet school, but some of us can make something of ourselves.”

  Her tone puzzled him and he found himself wanting to ask why she’d quit school.

  What he really wanted was to ask her why she’d dumped him so casually.

  He pushed that last thought back into the dusty recesses of his mind. Clearly he had to do more work to let go of the past and the hurt Tabitha had caused him.

  One step at a time, he told himself.

  “Well, I’m glad you did. Never could figure out why you dropped out in the first place.”

  She looked like she was about to say something. But then the back door opened and Dr. Waters’s and Jenny’s voices broke into the conversation and signaled the beginning of the workday.

  Tabitha spun around, striding back down the hallway, leaving Morgan confused and upset. How was he supposed to make a new start in this town when the harshest memories of his past were right here in the form of Tabitha Rennie?

  Okay, Lord, You brought me here. You’ll have to help me out.

  His prayer was raw and rough. But it came directly from his heart. Because without God’s help, he didn’t think he would be able to do what he needed to do.

  And that was keeping his focus on his son. He had been given a second chance with Nathan and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

  Not even for Tabitha.

  Chapter Three

  “C’mon, Tony. Since when did you need money up front from me?” Tabitha leaned on the counter, flashing a teasing grin at the young man behind the counter of Walsh’s Hardware Store. “You know I’m good for it.”

  It was Monday morning and Tabitha had sneaked out on her coffee break to order her kitchen sink.

  Morgan hadn’t looked pleased at her departure, but since he’d started working at the clinic, that seemed to be his default emotion.

  She knew he was stressed. Moving back home, trying to deal with a kid he barely knew. That had to be hard.

  Plus, he didn’t seem too happy with the fact that they had to work together. Until her house was finished, there was nothing she could do about it either.

  She had kept herself busy on Saturday after working in the clinic, putting the final coat of paint on the spare room of the house, which had been her father’s old room. On Sunday she stifled her guilt and put in some of the casings and baseboards, electing to stay busy and away from church. That was the trouble with a small community like Cedar Ridge. There were too many opportunities to run into people you wanted to avoid, and right now she wanted to avoid Morgan.

  Besides, the sooner she got this house done, the sooner she could sell it and move on. Being around Morgan was harder than she’d thought it would be and she didn’t need that extra stress in her life.

  Tony nervously rearranged the ball cap he perpetually wore on his head, looking over his shoulder as if to see if the owner, George Walsh, might have made a surprise visit.

  “Yeah. I know. It’s just...well...your last check bounced.”

  “I told you why. Sepp didn’t pay me on time. That’s hardly my fault and I need this sink to finish the renovations on my kitchen.” It had taken her a few late nights on Pinterest and home reno sites to figure out exactly which sink would fit in her kitchen. All she needed now was to order it, but Tony was being troublesome and she couldn’t charm him out of it.

  “I know.” Tony tugged on the bill of his cap again. “Trouble is, the owner found out about the check and told my boss, Mrs.
Fisher, that any more orders from you need to be prepaid.”

  “How did George find out?”

  “He was going over the books with Mrs. Fisher and saw it. That’s when he told her and she told me.”

  And there it was again. The ever-present Walsh influence pushing, once again, at the Rennie fecklessness.

  I’m not my father, she reminded herself, stifling a far-too-familiar flush of shame. And I’m trying desperately to fix what he broke.

  She knew it would take more than the sale of the land and the house to make up for the thousands of dollars her father had stolen from people. But it was all she could do at this moment. And she was determined to do it right.

  But if she didn’t get the sink ordered, she couldn’t finish her kitchen, which meant she couldn’t sell the house.

  Despair threatened to wash over her, and she struggled to push it back. One step at a time. And the way things were going, she wasn’t sure when she could get more money. Sepp kept cutting back her hours because he claimed Adana needed them more.

  She wanted to yell at him but she had no other options. Dr. Waters had made it very clear that now that Morgan was working at the clinic, the possibility of full-time work was gone.

  No one seemed to need her.

  “Well, I guess when you own the store, you can do what you want,” Tabitha said with forced humor.

  Tony shrugged.

  “I’d still like to put in the order for the sink, and when I get enough together to pay for it, I’d like you to put it through,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

  “You don’t have to pay it all,” Tony said. “Just half.”

  Which she didn’t have either.

  “Just give me the total amount so I know how much I’ll need.” Brave talk, she thought as she gave him a cautious smile, then left. She knew exactly how much the sink, tiles and countertop would cost and how many shifts it would take her to earn that.

  Too many. And now that Sepp had cut her hours back, she wasn’t sure how she was going to ever catch up. Her wages at the Brand and Grill and the vet clinic covered her daily expenses. She depended heavily on her tips for the extras.