Page 5 of Saddles and Snowstorms (Sagebrush Cowboys #4)

Rowan

O n Saturday afternoon, by some miracle, I closed the vet office on time. Then, exhaustion seeping clear down to my bones, I dragged myself across the street to Dolly’s Diner. The moment the bell overhead tinkled announcing my presence, Dolly looked up with a giant smile on her face.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in!” she grinned, waving her bright red acrylics my direction. “Bless your heart! You look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet. Come on in and let’s fix that!”

I nodded, unable to stop myself from smiling as I stepped up to the counter and took a seat at one of the high barstools.

I crossed my arms and put my head down on the cold surface, ready to fall asleep right there.

The thunk of ceramic announced the coffee mug Dolly sat down in front of me.

She began to fill it up, the scent of fresh coffee filling my nostrils.

“I can’t tell if you look worn out or like you just finished runnin’ from the law—should I grab you a drink or an alibi?”

“Coffee’s fine,” I grumbled, picking my head up just enough to smile at her. “Long week.”

“I can understand that, sugar. I don’t think I’ve seen the parking lot empty at your office since you opened Monday.

” She reached under the counter, pulling out a small bowl full of creamer pods.

She knew I liked my coffee a bit on the sweeter side.

“You just sit here and drink your coffee. I’ll put the order in for your dinner. ”

“But I didn’t tell you what I wanted…”

“Honey, the only thing that’s gonna fix those dark circles is a steak. Trust me.”

“Bless you, Dolly,” I mumbled, dumping three creamers into my coffee and stirring it with more concentration than necessary. The rich brown liquid swirled hypnotically, and I felt myself drifting until Dolly’s voice snapped me back.

“So, tell me what’s got you lookin’ like death warmed over,” she said, leaning her ample bosom against the counter. “Is it just the usual critters or something more?”

I took a long sip of coffee before answering. “Three emergency C-sections on prize cows, one colicky stallion worth more than my student loans, and Mrs. Hargrove’s goddamn cat ate another sock.” I rubbed my eyes. “Plus, the Richardson ranch had some kind of parasite outbreak.”

“The Richardson place?” Dolly whistled low. “That new foreman they got must be runnin’ himself ragged too.”

“He sure is.” I took a sip of the coffee, savoring the warmth as it ran down my throat. “Oh, and I had two more calves this week too. One for Earl Smith and the other out at Brooks Callahan’s place. Earl’s kept me up all damn night, but Brooks did most of the work himself.”

Dolly nodded. “He’s used to that sort of thing. Being a hermit, you gotta be self-reliant.”

“I mentioned that you call him a hermit,” I grinned, glancing up at her. “He didn’t seem to like that.”

“Well, it’s the truth one way or another,” she sighed. “And he’s still deliverin’ beef, so I guess I’m not in the dungeon just yet.”

“You were right about him being handsome too.” I took another sip. “Kinda standoffish though, isn’t he?”

Dolly sighed. “Life ain’t exactly been kind to him. But he’s doin’ the best he can, just like the rest of us.”

The bell above the door jingled, and I didn’t need to turn around to know who had just walked in. Something in the way Dolly’s eyes widened told me everything .

“Speak of the devil,” she whispered, her red nails tapping excitedly on the counter.

I kept my eyes fixed on my coffee, suddenly finding the swirling cream fascinating. The heavy footfalls behind me were slow, deliberate, like a man who never rushed for anyone. The scent of leather, hay, and something earthy—something distinctly male—drifted over me before he even spoke.

“Afternoon, Dolly.” His deep voice rumbled through the diner, that Texas drawl stretching each syllable like warm honey.

“Well, Brooks Callahan!” Dolly’s voice went up an octave. “Twice in one month? Must be my lucky day.”

I could feel him standing behind me now, his presence as solid as a wall. I took another sip of coffee, wondering if I should acknowledge him or pretend I hadn’t just been talking about him.

“Just came to drop off your order,” Brooks said. “Just got that steer back from the butcher this mornin’. Want me to just take it around back?”

“Sure,” she smiled brightly. “I’ll have Leroy get it all in the freezer. So why don’t you come in and have a cup of coffee while you’re waitin’? It’s on the house.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brooks glance my direction. “I… uh…”

“Brooks Callahan,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “I ain’t heard hardly hide nor hair from you in a month. Last time you didn’t even chat with me. That’s not very neighborly now, is it?”

“I don’t know…”

“Isn’t the customer always right?” She knew exactly what she was doing, laying it on as thick as she could. “Now you park your butt in that chair and let me give you some free coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, tipping his hat. “Let me pull the truck around and I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he was back through the front door, Dolly placed a coffee mug at the empty seat next to me. “There,” she smiled, filling it up. “This should give the two of you a chance to talk a bit more.”

“Dolly… I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

“Oh please,” she said, giving me a dismissive wave. “He needs a friend and so do you. Besides, a cute little thing like you deserves some attention.”

“I don’t think I’m his type, Dolly.”

She leaned close, her voice hushed. “I ain’t never seen Brooks date a woman. Even when we was in school together, he kept to himself. As far as I see it, you got just as good a shot as anyone, sugar.”

“But maybe he’s just not?—”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence as the bell over the door rang again, announcing my client’s return.

Brooks Callahan moved like a storm front—slow, deliberate, inevitable.

His boots scuffed against the worn linoleum as he made his way to the counter, dark eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance.

When he finally settled onto the stool beside me, I felt the air shift between us.

“Doc,” he nodded, barely glancing my way as he took off his brown cowboy hat and set it on the counter. His dark hair was pressed flat against his head, a thin line of sweat marking where the hatband had been.

“Brooks,” I replied, suddenly very interested in my coffee mug. “How’s that cow doing?”

“Fine.” He wrapped his calloused hands around the mug Dolly had placed before him. “Calf’s growin’ like a weed. Already. Three days old and I can barely keep him in the barn.”

Dolly hovered nearby, pretending to wipe down the counter while shooting me meaningful glances. When neither of us continued the conversation, she sighed dramatically.

“Lord have mercy, it’s like pullin’ teeth with you two.” She filled Brooks’ mug to the brim. “Brooks, did you know our vet here has been runnin’ himself ragged all week to keep up with you and everyone else?”

Brooks glanced over at me, those deep brown eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary. He took a slow sip of his coffee, black as midnight, before setting the mug down with deliberate care.

“That right?” His voice was gravel and whiskey, low enough that I had to lean slightly closer to hear him. “Thought you looked tired.”

“It’s been a week,” I admitted, suddenly self-conscious about the dark circles under my eyes and my rumpled shirt. Next to Brooks’ weathered but put-together appearance, I must have looked like something the coyotes had been fighting over.

“My calf wasn’t much trouble though,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

“No, you...” I cleared my throat. “You did most of the work yourself. I was just there to make sure everything looked right.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile but something close. “Man ought to know how to handle his own stock.”

Dolly slid a plate in front of me, a perfectly cooked ribeye with all the fixings, then leaned over the counter, her eyes dancing between us.

“Brooks here’s got the best beef in three counties.

Tell him what you think after you’ve had a bite,” Dolly insisted with a wink before sashaying away to help another customer.

I cut into the steak, the knife gliding through the meat like it was butter. The first bite melted in my mouth, rich and flavorful in a way that made my eyes close involuntarily.

“Damn,” I muttered after swallowing. “That is good.”

Brooks nodded, that almost-smile appearing again. “Grass-fed. No shortcuts.”

“Well, it shows.” I took another bite, suddenly ravenous. “Seriously, this might be the best steak I’ve ever had.”

He shifted on his stool, broad shoulders rolling beneath his worn flannel shirt. “Appreciate that.”

We fell into silence again, but it felt less strained now. I continued eating while Brooks nursed his coffee, those large, work-roughened hands dwarfing the mug. Every so often, I’d catch him watching me from the corner of his eye.

“Heard you helped out at the Richardson place,” he finally said. “Parasite problem?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, grateful for the conversation. “They’ve got a nasty infestation. I’ve been out there three times this week trying to get it under control.”

Brooks made a low sound in his throat, something between a grunt and a hum. “Richardson don’t know his ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to livestock. Throws money at problems instead of preventin’ ‘em.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said, surprised by his candor. “That new foreman of his is trying, but...”

“Too little, too late,” Brooks finished, taking another sip of his coffee. His eyes met mine over the rim of the mug, and something warm flickered in their depths before he looked away. “Shame. Good land out there.”

I cut another piece of steak, savoring the rich flavor. “You ever think about expanding? Taking on more land?”

Brooks’ jaw tightened slightly. “Don’t need more than what I got. Bigger ain’t always better.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Quality over quantity.”

That earned me another almost-smile, this one lingering a second longer. “Exactly.”

The diner had emptied out some, the dinner rush still an hour away. Brooks’ coffee was nearly gone, and I’d demolished most of my steak. The silence between us had shifted from awkward to something almost comfortable.

“You got plans for the rest of the day?” I asked, immediately regretting how it sounded. “I mean, since you’re in town and all.”

Brooks studied me for a moment, those deep brown eyes seeming to look straight through me. “Just some supplies from the feed store. Then back home.” He paused, shifting in his seat. “Got a fence that needs mendin’ on the north pasture.”

“Sounds exciting,” I said, offering a tired smile.

“Ain’t supposed to be exciting. Just needs doin’.” Brooks’ voice was matter-of-fact, but there was something in his expression—a flicker of amusement, maybe—that made my stomach do a little flip.

“Well, I’ve got nothing but sleep on my agenda,” I admitted. “First weekend in a month I haven’t been moving, packing, or working.”

Brooks nodded, then hesitated. He drummed his fingers once against his empty mug before pushing it away. “That cow of mine—the one with the calf—she’s been favorin’ her right front leg since yesterday.”

His eyes met mine briefly before darting away. “Might be nothin’. Probably is nothin’.”

I set my fork down. “Want me to take a look?”

He shrugged those broad shoulders, but the tension in his jaw told me he was more concerned than he let on. “If you ain’t too tired. Wouldn’t ask, but... ”

“It’s fine,” I said, surprising myself with how quickly I’d abandoned my plans for sleep. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“You just said you were exhausted,” he pointed out, that Texas drawl making the observation sound almost gentle.

“I am, but...” I gestured to my nearly empty plate. “This steak revived me. Besides, it’s just one cow, not a whole herd.”

Brooks studied me for a long moment, those dark eyes unreadable. “On second thought, you’re right. She’s probably fine.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, surprised by the sudden iciness in his voice. “I don’t mind taking a look.”

“Nah. I know my cow. She’s fine. And you’re tired.” He pushed his empty coffee mug away before standing up. “Plus, I don’t need a vet for every little thing. It’s just a lot of bills for no reason.”

“If you’re worried about money?—”

“I’m not,” he said sharply, cutting me off. “I just don’t need you. That’s all.”

Something about those words cut me to the quick.

I didn’t understand why, but a chill filled my chest, vibrating down to the pit of my stomach.

I watched wordlessly as Brooks tipped his hat to Dolly and bid her farewell.

He glanced back at me for only a moment, nodded, and left without a word.

The moment he was gone, Dolly was at my side.

“I’ve never seen him go from friendly to mean that fast before,” she said, giving me a good once over. “What did you say to him?”

“I… I just offered to help him. It was his idea…”

Dolly pursed her lips, a confused expression on her face. Finally, she sighed, shaking her head. “You musta got under his skin somehow. But I don’t know what’s wrong with that man sometimes. He’s nice until he ain’t. Then he’s meaner than a dog shittin’ tacks.”

I couldn’t help the sudden burst of laughter that escaped me. “Jesus Dolly,” I laughed, forgetting all about how icy Brooks had been. “You say some of the damnedest things, you know?”

She just winked. “Practice makes perfect, sugar.”