Death by Equine by Annette Dashofy (read this if txt) 📗

“Soldier Bob is a late scratch by order of the vet,” the loudspeaker announced. “There will be a delay.”

An outrider pony loped out to retrieve the chestnut. All good news. If he’d been seriously injured, they’d have sent the equine ambulance instead.

“Neil Emerick will be calling you to meet him back at the barn,” Daniel said.

She bit back a sarcastic laugh. “Maybe. He’ll check the horse out himself first.” And after their confrontation in the paddock, he’d probably call Dr. McCarrell, the other vet who worked the backside.

The rest of the horses reloaded without incident.

“And they’re off!”

The horses broke in one pack except for two that trailed behind. One of the stragglers was Risky Ridge. Jessie imagined she could hear Catherine’s moan all the way from her box in the glass-enclosed grandstand. The announcer barked out the horses’ positions as they charged down the backstretch toward the far turn. Risky held firm to the next-to-last spot.

“At least he’s beating one of them,” Daniel said.

As the horses swung into the far turn, Jessie lost sight of Risky for a moment and tried to follow the announcer’s call of the race. Most of it was a jumble to her ear. But then the horses came around toward the stretch and she caught one line of the announcer’s patter. “Risky Ridge is making a big move at the quarter pole.”

Jessie no longer needed the field glasses. She set them down and pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from giving a yelp. With all the trainers, many of them Doc’s—her—clients, gathered within earshot, it wouldn’t do to show favoritism.

The horses thundered down the stretch. Two battled for the lead, several lengths ahead of the rest. But one big black colt’s strides ate up the track, coming up on the outside.

“And here comes Risky Ridge!”

A squeal escaped around her fingers.

“Coming to the wire, it’s Highlander Gold and Arctic Oak. Highlander Gold and Arctic Oak...”

Jessie heard someone yell, “GO!” and realized it was coming from her own throat.

Three horses pounded under the wire ahead of the pack. Less than a length separated them.

“It’s Arctic Oak with Highlander Gold in second and Risky Ridge in third.”

Daniel clapped her on the back. “Good work, Dr. Cameron. He was flying at the end. One more furlong and he’d have had that race.”

“Catherine will be pleased.” Jessie laughed at her understatement of the century. Catherine would be over the moon. “I have to go. I have a patient to scope.”

“Wait. We still haven’t talked.”

Jessie stepped down from the picnic table. “About what?”

He stepped down too, blocking her path. “I want you to take over Doc’s practice. Permanently.”

Around them, bettors and racing fans filtered inside, either to cash in tickets or to check out the next race’s entrants in the paddock. Jessie watched the migration for a moment, using the time to let Daniel’s proposition sink in.

In the last week, there had been more than one occasion when she’d gotten past the melancholy that engulfed her and had truly enjoyed the work at the track. The hustle and bustle of life on the backside, the colorful characters, the high-spirited Thoroughbreds. If Doc was simply away on vacation, the last few days would have been a blast. But to step into this world on a permanent basis? Doc’s shoes were just too big.

“I can’t.”

Daniel crossed his arms in front of him. “Why not?”

“I have too many responsibilities. My own practice. Patients. Employees. A partner.”

“Your partner could buy out your part of your practice.” He locked her in his gaze. “Jessie, you’re doing a great job here. The horsemen like you. You have a wonderful touch with the animals. You’ve worked with Doc in the past and you understand his way of doing things. If I had to bring in someone else, someone with no experience working at a racetrack? Let’s just say the transition will be much smoother with you.”

Her head spun. The transition might be smooth for Daniel and the horsemen. But not for her. She’d been uprooted so often as a child, all she wanted in her life now was stability. She was already dealing with the collapse of her marriage and the death of the man who’d been a father to her. To now be asked to abandon the only other thing that kept her grounded? It was too much. “Why don’t you ask Dr. McCarrell? He’s already got a practice here.”

“Mac’s almost seventy. He’s been talking about retiring for the last five years. I already spoke to him about helping out, but he doesn’t want to take on any more clients than he already has. Jessie, I need you.”

Looking into his pale blue eyes, Jessie imagined this man got his way more often than not. Especially with women. She battled the urge to succumb to his charms. Somewhere in her head, she heard Doc’s gruff voice saying, “Sucker.” It elicited a laugh from her.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“I know. I wasn’t laughing at you. Look, I’ll make you a deal.”

“Okay. Let’s hear it.”

“I’ve already arranged to fill in for Doc’s two-week vacation. If I can get my partner to agree to continue covering for me, I’ll stay a while longer. But only until you can find someone else to buy out Doc’s practice.”

“But—”

She held up her hand to him. “I’ll help you look for another vet. And I’ll stick around long enough to show them the ropes. That’s the best I can offer.”

Daniel’s expression swung through an array of emotions. None of them happy. Finally, his face softened. “You have me over a barrel, Dr. Cameron. If that’s the best you can do...”

“It is.”

He held out a hand and she took it. “Then I guess I have no choice. Deal.”

Jessie excused herself and made her way through the grandstand and down the back staircase. As she burst through the doorway into the rear parking lot, a voice hailed her from behind. She glanced over her