Jack’s eyes widened and I could sense the wave of anger roll off of him. He gripped the steering wheel and his knuckles turned white. When we hit the main road, he was doing seventy.
“What kind of asshole poisons a dog?” Jack growled. “You have to be some kind of sociopathic dick to poison a dog.”
I silently agreed with him and started to pray.
Dear Jesus, please don’t let Reggie die, please…
I didn’t go to church as often as I liked, especially with all the crap that had hit the fan lately, but there in that truck I swore I’d go every week if Reggie came out of it alive.
We spun into Bart O’Neal’s place and I jumped out of the truck before it had completely stopped. “Bart! Get your Veterinary ass out here!” I yelled as I pounded on his front door.
He opened the door in jeans and an undershirt, still bleary eyed from sleep. I grabbed his arm and yanked him with me as I jogged back to the truck.
“Shelby Flint, why are you yellin’ at me this early in the morning?” I glared at him and tried to refrain from smacking him. It didn’t pay to be mean to the only man who could save your dog.
“Someone’s poisoned Reggie, Bart.”
A look of shock flashed on his face before a dark cloud of anger. Jack lifted the dog out of the back seat and Bart motioned for him to bring him around back where he usually treated horses and cattle. Bart was a large animal vet, but he was the closest vet to my house, and I’d had a nasty feeling that if I took the time to drive Reggie to Madera, he’d die.
“What kind of sadistic bastard would poison a dog?” Bart muttered as Jack laid said dog on his work bench.
Jack nodded in approval and stood back, giving the vet some room. I couldn’t bring myself to do the same so I stood and pet Reggie’s nose and ears as Bart did a quick check.
“His pulse is really faint. There’s green around his mouth, did he get into antifreeze?” He glanced at me. I didn’t know for certain, but it seemed like an easy way to poison a dog. Antifreeze tastes sweet, and I’d known all my life that it killed dogs.
I shrugged my shoulders, feeling helpless.
“I’m afraid he doesn’t have much longer if I don’t do something. I haven’t treated dogs since I got out of college.” He opened Reggie’s eyelids and his blue-green eyes were hugely dilated.
“Then do something, Bart.
Please.
Do anything, just help him,” I pleaded.
He looked at me, eyes full of regret, and nodded. He went into action, found a vein on Reggie’s paw and started IV fluids.
“This is going to seem weird, Shelby, but we’ve got to get your dog drunk.” Bart glanced at me, and I must have showed my disbelief, because he started to explain. “Antifreeze itself isn’t actually poisonous to animals; it’s the enzyme the animals create to deal with the Ethylene glycol in the antifreeze that actually kills them.” His voice had taken to a lecturing tone and his hands worked in smooth movements as he set up the bag of Ethanol and hooked it to Reggie’s IV.
“So what we’ve got to do is pump Ol’ Reg here full of booze so his body is stuck metabolizing that, instead of the antifreeze. I’m sure they’ve come up with a better way to do it since I’ve gotten out of vet school, but I don’t know about it. This is his best shot.”
I nodded and continued to stroke Reggie’s fur until Bart was through with his ministrations.
Jack threw an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. He knew how much Reggie meant to me and I appreciated his presence.
But he’s not who you want right now,
a little voice said in my head. I couldn’t think about Cash either, so I just kept petting Reggie, willing him to get better.
“Shelby, I know you’re going to want to stay here with Reggie, but this is a long process. I’m going to have to keep him on this stuff until I’m absolutely sure the antifreeze is out of his system, and that could be anywhere from 48 to 64 hours.” He gave me an understanding look as I opened my mouth to argue. “No, Shelby, you can’t do anything more for him here. He’s either going to make it or he’s not. I’m gonna have him in a kennel while he’s dealing with all this. I’ll call you if he gets worse.”
I wanted to disagree, but Jack squeezed my shoulders and pulled me away. I said my final goodbye to Reggie, gave him kisses on his nose, and walked back to the truck. Jack opened the door for me, but I was on autopilot and I didn’t notice the worried look on his face. We drove back to my place in silence. My mind was frozen.
Somehow, through the whole ordeal, it hadn’t really affected me much. Yes, I had been scared, and yes, I was heartbroken over Cash. But now that this bastard, whoever he was, had gone after my dog I started to lose it.
He tried to kill my dog.
I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around that little tidbit. Reggie had been the only family I had left after Grandpa had died.
He tried to kill
my
dog!
Jack had just pulled into my driveway when that notion finally settled down in my head enough for me to wrap around it. Once it sank in I snapped out of my numb reverie and
I.
Was. Angry.
I could feel myself start to shake as I became more and more enraged. When Jack put the truck into park and turned off the engine, I saw red.
Hmm…this is what that phrase means,
said a little disjointed voice in my head.
“I’m going to kill the bastard,” I said as I threw open the door and stormed toward my trailer.
Jack yelped and ran after me. I took the stairs two by two and I threw open my front door, not noticing Cash leaning against the banister. Jack and Cash spoke to each other, but I paid them no attention.
There are more important things to think about.
I needed to get dressed. I was still wearing the camisole and boxers I’d had on that morning. I started tearing my pajamas off, uncaring that the door stood wide open. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. I opened my gun safe and pulled out my 9mm, my .45 and my shotgun.
I’m going to war on this bastard.
I was wrapping my holster around my thigh when Cash walked in with Jack on his heels.
“As much as I love a woman with firepower, may I ask where you’re going?”
Cash’s voice was droll, but it washed over me as I checked the chamber of my Glock, popped in the magazine, and slid it in the holster. I grabbed another mag and slid it in between the holster strap and my leg.
“Seriously, Shells, why are you going all Lara Croft on me?” I grabbed the nine and slid it in my jeans at the small of my back.
“Whoever this guy is, he has
got
to get the hell off my land.” I threw on a Carhartt jacket that was Grandpa’s, grabbed the Benelli and strode past the men. At least, I tried to, but Cash grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to a stop.
“You can’t do this, Shelby. Not right now. Give me a couple days and I’ll get a couple other wardens here and we’ll catch him. It’s way too dangerous for you to go by yourself.”
“As much as I hate this, Shells, I have to agree with Marlboro Man over here,” said Jack, gesturing to Cash with a thumb while Cash glared at him. Jack pried Cash’s fingers off my arm and pulled me into the kitchen. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee and you can just settle down a while. You’re too shook up about Reggie right now to think straight.”
I tore myself out of Jack’s grasp and gave them both angry, mutinous looks. I pointed at Cash. “You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do. As far as I can tell, you haven’t shown much regard for my well-being at all lately, so you sure as hell can’t start now.”
I turned and pointed my finger at Jack and he recoiled like I had my .45 pointed at him. “
And you
!” I walked forward until the tip of my finger was buried in his chest. “
You
have known me since the first grade. You should know better than to try and stop me from doing this. He poisoned my dog.” I hissed. “He went too far and I want him gone!”
My eyes were brimming with tears from my anger, and I knew it wasn’t helping my cause, but it always happened when I was furious. Both men just stood staring at me like my hair was on fire. I was so fed up with men in general. I just threw my head back and screamed.
I felt a little better when I was done screaming, so I turned and headed out the door. I heard both men start after me, but I didn’t stop until I’d made it to the barn. I spun around so quickly that Jack and Cash almost ran into me. I glared at both of them for a minute and they watched me warily.
“It seems that I have an overabundance of unwelcome men on my property. If you two aren’t going to help, then leave. I already have one guy to shoot, I don’t want to have to add two more to the list.” I left them to mull that over while I pulled Roanie out of his stall and started saddling him up.
The men talked between themselves, but it wasn’t until I reached for Roanie’s head stall that I felt a warm hand on my hip.
“Jack’s going to ride Roanie, alright? You and me are going to be on Tahoe. He’s bigger and can handle both of us for a little while.” I swatted his hand and tried to pull away, but he just tugged me closer. I tried to ignore his body heat and that he smelled so damn good. I felt my body sway into him. “If you don’t cooperate,” he whispered, his breath feathering across my face, “Jack and I will tie you to one of your kitchen chairs.”
My eyes widened in outrage, and I opened my mouth to say just what I thought of that plan. His lips found mine and my outrage melted into flat-out need
.
I folded against him and mewled a little into his mouth, my mind railing against him but losing the battle. His hands fisted in my hair and I could feel a rumble growing deep in his chest.
Jack cleared their throat behind us, but neither Cash or I cared. It seemed to me that it spurred Cash to start rumbling louder, and his kisses went from gentle and sweet to rough and possessive. I ran my hands down his chest and gripped his waistband, tugging his hips hard against mine. He groaned into my lips.
“Um, do you two want to get a room or something?”
I could hear the disapproval in Jack’s voice and it worked like a bucket of cold water. Well, not
really,
but it gave me strength enough to pull away from Cash and catch my breath. Cash glared at Jack, still gripping me against him.
“Um, sure, I mean, no. I’ve got ass to kick.”
I tried to walk away from Cash but he kept me against him. My face burned from embarrassment. I had nearly done the deed with Cash right in front of one of my oldest friends, for Pete’s sake! He used his thumb and forefinger to pull my face around.
“Shells, you don’t have to do this right now.”
His eyes were so full of love and concern I almost started crying again. Instead, I took a deep breath, looked in his deep blue eyes for a minute, and nodded.
“I know I don’t have to, but I
need
to do this Cash.” His eyes searched my face and it seemed like a caress. “This guy has disrupted my world, threatened my land, my cattle, and my life. And now he’s tried to kill my dog. He’s got to go.” Cash looked at me for a moment longer, as if to gauge how serious I was, because he jerked his head sharply.
At least isn’t going to tie me to a chair,
I thought.
Oh…he can tie me to a chair…
my libido echoed.
“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip and it was all I could do not to kiss it. “Tough as steel though.”
Cash placed his large, work-roughened hands on the side of my face. His thumbs traced back and forth against my cheekbones and I closed my eyes. I felt him move right before he placed a light kiss against my lips. “I won’t let him hurt you, Shelby. I promise.”
I nodded into his hands, eyes still closed. Jack cleared his throat again, but this time without all the irritation. Cash released his hold on my face and we walked over to where Jack had saddled Tahoe. I didn’t remember Jack pulling Tahoe out of his stall, but I
had
been fairly preoccupied.
I grabbed a handful of Tahoe’s mane, put my foot in the stirrup and jumped on his back. He was almost seventeen hands, and even though I was tall, I still had to hop to make it up. Once I was on, I scooted backward out of the saddle until I sat behind it on Tahoe’s bare butt. Since we were riding double, Cash would need the saddle seat and I was lighter and wouldn’t be as hard on Tahoe’s kidneys. I shouldn’t ride double, but Tahoe had carried heavier loads as a pack mule than Cash and I and for longer distances.
Jack fiddled with the stirrups on my saddle, even though he shouldn’t have needed to lengthen them since I was nearly as tall as him, but men will be men. I noticed he had slid my shotgun into the saddle holster, but I couldn’t see if he had brought any additional firearms. Cash slid into the saddle in front of me gracefully and kneed Tahoe outside, not waiting for Jack.