Page 23 of Roots of Redemption (Hicks Creek #4)

Chapter Nineteen

Wade

I ’m extremely distracted today as I can’t stop thinking about Sutton. How she tasted, how she smelled, how she sounded, how she felt. I cannot wait to see her and kiss her again.

All I can think about is throwing her over my shoulder, taking her back to that bed, and burying myself inside her.

I need another cold shower, or four.

My thoughts flit back to that Ronnie guy, too.

I find it hard to believe that Sutton puts up with any of that guy’s shit.

She seemed to be handling him well, and I knew that if I stuck around in their conversation, I would probably deck him.

As much as I would love for her to remain in Hicks Creek, I don’t want to cause her to lose her job either.

The morning sun beats down, and I go over to the barn, trying to focus on fixing the latch on the gate. It’s a simple task, one I can usually do without thinking, but my mind keeps wandering back to Sutton and the cattle. It’s like all that I can hold in my brain these days.

“Boss,” Benny calls out as he stalks over to me. “You talk to Doc?”

“About what?”

“Ag officer and the sheriff were out at Nance’s. I heard in town that someone called in a tip that he was the cause of the outbreak.”

I immediately stand up and look back at him in shock.

“The sheriff is out there?”

“Sutton took off out of here like a bat out of hell. She was going to make sure they knew it wasn’t the case.”

I hand him the tools in my hand and start toward my truck, just as Sutton is coming down the driveway. I let out a breath as the tension leaves me momentarily. She’s back, so that’s got to be a good sign, but I don’t like that she took off to Nance’s by herself.

I chuckle inwardly for a second. She’s got balls of steel. She didn’t have any fear going up against the Department of Agriculture and the sheriff because she knew they were in the wrong. That says a lot about her as a person.

Everyday she’s proving my old opinion of her wrong.

Benny and I both make our way toward her before she parks. She’s climbing out of the truck, shaking her head as she looks back at Benny.

“What happened?” he asks.

“They had Bob in cuffs. I was able to make them see reason, though. I think Sheriff Clark will question Dr. Reed in the future before showing up like that.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Reed didn’t do any homework. He was doing all of this on an anonymous tip and no physical proof.”

“Is that normal?” Benny asks.

“For him? I don’t know. They should be doing their own investigation, similar to what I’m doing. Doc Lucy should have been notified and asked for a statement, as should I have. It’s handled now.”

“You shouldn’t have gone there by yourself,” I tell her.

She pulls back and shoots me a dirty look. She rolls her eyes and starts toward the barn.

“Any more cattle pass or start symptoms overnight?”

“Two,” Benny hollers after her as she jogs to catch up. “Two died, no more have shown any symptoms though.”

I follow the two of them.

“Good. I want to start a different antibiotic protocol with the sick ones. I’m really leaning toward bovine respiratory disease, but since it’s transmitting so quickly, I want to add a steroid to a few of them but also try some NSAIDs. I want to see which I get a better result from.”

“The steroids will suppress their immune system and that wouldn’t—” I start to argue.

“That can be a side effect, but they’re already quarantined away from the others.

They’re not going to get anything they haven’t already gotten.

And when it works, we’ll continue to keep them separated for a few weeks to let their immune systems get back up to par if that’s the case.

I’m not going to do anything to endanger your herd, Wade, but I can’t fix the main problem unless I try everything I can until I get the lab results back. ”

I put my hands up and nod. She’s right. I reacted a little too quickly without asking more questions. “You’re right, I should have waited.”

“No. I appreciate that you were respectful about it. I’m an authority in this area because of my education, but that doesn’t discount your experience and knowledge. I appreciate that you do question.”

I nod. “Where’d your friend go?”

“Left, I guess.” She shrugs. “Thank God.”

She makes her way to the first set of pens.

She’s got a clipboard attached to the gate, methodically checking and recording every dose, every time, every tag number.

Her handwriting is neat and precise, just like everything else she does.

There’s a smudge of dirt high on her cheek where she must have wiped her face absentmindedly, and it only makes her look more beautiful.

“Benny, bring that next one through,” she calls, flipping a page on the clipboard before glancing up at us. Her eyes catch mine for a split second, and I feel it—sharp and deep, that pull toward her that’s been messing with my head all day.

I grip the railing a little tighter and shift my weight, trying to shake the thought loose. It doesn’t work.

Benny leads the next cow into the chute, latching the gate behind her. The animal shifts, tossing her head in protest. She’s young, a little skittish, but not too bad. “Got her,” Benny says, holding steady.

She steps in close, running a gloved hand over the cow’s shoulder before checking the chart. “She’ll get the steroid and an antibiotic,” she says, reaching for the syringe on the metal tray beside her. I watch the way her fingers move, quick and confident, like she could do this in her sleep.

“You’re real organized,” I say, because I need to say something, anything, to keep my mind from drifting to places it shouldn’t while I’m standing here in the middle of a damn cattle pen.

She glances at me, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” I murmur, my eyes locked on hers for just a beat too long. “It’s impressive.”

She holds my gaze, studying me like she’s trying to figure something out. “Well, someone’s gotta keep track of it all,” she finally says, turning back to the cow.

I nod, stepping in to steady the cow’s head as she administers the shot. “Makes sense.”

She presses the plunger, smooth and sure, then pats the cow’s side before stepping back. “Done. Let her through.”

I watch the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers smudged with dirt, her eyes scanning the clipboard again like she’s making sure everything is perfect before moving on.

Damn, she’s something else. Smart, capable, strong. And beautiful—so beautiful it makes my chest ache.

“That’s the last of ’em, for now,” Benny says.

She nods. “Okay, good. I need to get to the next ranch and see what I can get done.”

“Is Caleb going with you?”

“Nah, he has homework to do,” she answers quickly as she grabs her bag and scurries out of the barn.

“Hey,” I call out as I follow her. She stops and turns, one eyebrow raised in question.

“What is it, Wade?”

I hesitate for half a second before diving in. “Let me come with you on the next herd check.”

She hesitates, her gaze searching mine. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. It’ll take you twice as long to inoculate or medicate and test the cattle if it’s just you.”

She crosses her arms, still skeptical. “First stop is my dad’s place.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Guess I can’t back out now, huh?”

Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile. “Nope. Get in.”

We climb into her truck, and there’s a comfortable, almost companionable silence. The hum of the engine and the soft sound of the road beneath the tires fill the space as we drive.

Loose strands of hair are starting to fall out of her ponytail, and they’re floating in the breeze as our windows are rolled down for the short drive.

She’s tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, lost in thought.

I watch her carefully, taking in the way her nose turns up just a little at the end and the set of her jaw.

She’s nervous about going to her dad’s, I can tell that by how her shoulders are practically up to her ears. I’m about to reach over and put my hand on her knee, but we pull into her father’s driveway.

The man himself steps out of the barn, wiping his hands on a rag. He spots us and shakes his head, his expression a mix of exasperation and hatred.

“You brought a Callahan onto my ranch?” Frank growls.

“Are you going to wrestle a three-hundred-pound cow for me?” Sutton asks quickly.

“I could,” he replies.

“You don’t have a problem with Caleb being here, and Wade’s his dad. He stays or I go.”

Frank narrows his eyes at his daughter before he nods at me. “Wade,” he says in greeting, his tone dry.

“Mr. Bishop.”

He grunts, then turns to Sutton. “The meds you gave yesterday worked on some, but not on all.”

“I expected that.”

She turns around to me. “I did the same thing here that I did with yours just now. This illness isn’t fully textbook to brD, and I just want to change up the antibiotic course to see if it responds or not.”

We follow him into the barn, and the smell of hay and animals surrounds us. Sutton moves with purpose, checking the cattle with practiced efficiency. I stay close, watching her work and stepping in to help when needed.

“Hand me the thermometer,” she says without looking up.

I grab it from the kit and pass it to her. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she mutters. She checks the cow’s temperature and then writes something down in her notebook: “This one’s borderline. Keep an eye on her, Dad.”

“Borderline? What does that mean?”

“It means that her temperature is a little elevated, but not a fever yet. I’m going to tag her and quarantine her just to be safe.”

She looks at me and then points to the heifer. “Can you move her over to that pen over there, please?”

“Sure thing,” I say quickly as I lead the cow to the pen she requested. I can hear Frank snort behind me, but he doesn’t say anything.