To Tame a Cowboy (Colorado Cowboys #3)(14)

Savannah finished tying off the splint, then stroked the calf’s muzzle, earning a soft snort. “You’ll be just fine now.” Now that the leg was set properly.

Apparently during a recent stampede, the yearling had stepped into a gopher hole. The impact from the other cattle had only wedged and twisted the leg deeper.

Flynn had brought the yearling to the barn, and Elmer had tried to doctor the poor thing. But it hadn’t stopped bawling from pain.

Elmer had suggested putting the creature out of its misery, but Savannah had asked for a chance to reset the bone. After administering a painkiller, she’d done the deed quickly. Now it was resting more peacefully.

“Brody! You’ve got to help me!” As the young woman slid down from her mount, Savannah could tell from her features she was a McQuaid, likely the lone sister, Ivy, that Linnea had mentioned. At nearly seventeen, she shared Brody’s dark brown hair and eyes but had a vivaciousness and beauty uniquely her own.

“They won’t stop.” Her voice rang with distress. “Even after I warned ’em that I’d come get you.”

Brody glanced at Savannah as though gauging how much work she had left on the yearling.

“You go on, Brody. I can finish up here by myself.” She began to repack the supplies into her satchel.

Ivy stepped into the door. “Who’s the lady?”

Savannah started to stand, and as usual, Brody was quick to come to her assistance. At his touch against her elbow, her thoughts flew back to the night hours, to seeing his exquisite tenderness with his niece, to exchanging banter with him, and to feeling cherished when she climbed back into bed. Though she’d only just met him, she’d fallen asleep knowing she had nothing to fear. In fact, she almost felt that he was watching over her like a guardian angel.

When she’d awoken at first light, he’d been gone. She’d found him in the barn, gently grooming the injured mustang. He hadn’t spoken to her, but his eyes had welcomed her. Wordlessly, she joined him in grooming all the horses, sensing he needed the peaceful silence of the barn to start his day. He’d helped her tend the horse suffering from colic. And he’d stayed by her side when she changed the bandage on the mustang’s leg, watching and assisting her.

Vesta had clanged a ladle against a pan when breakfast was ready, and Savannah and Brody strode quietly to the house together, her heart filling with wonder at the beauty of the sun rising above the eastern peaks. She’d felt at that moment she was exactly where she needed to be. The regrets of leaving Daddy and Momma and her weddin’ had faded—at least for a little while.

Of course, it was hard not to think that today would have been her weddin’ day, that if she’d stayed, Momma would have been overseeing the preparations for the feast they’d planned to have for the Double L cowboys as well as neighbors. Momma also would have made sure the servants groomed Savannah to perfection, turning her into the refined southern lady she’d been born and bred to be.

Now with breakfast over and her duties keeping her busy, she prayed Daddy and Momma weren’t too sad.

“This here’s the new veterinarian.” Brody steadied her before taking a polite step back. “Savannah Marshall.”

“Veterinarian?” Ivy’s eyes widened. “Well, howdy-dowdy. Ain’t that somethin’?”

“You must be Ivy.” Savannah offered the young woman a smile.

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Ivy touched the brim of her hat. “We sure could use a vet up in these parts.”

“That’s what I heard. I sincerely hope I can be of some assistance.”

Ivy stared back and forth between Brody and her the same way Flynn had yesterday. “I reckon you already have been.”

Brody crossed his arms, his bulk imposing, as though warning Ivy not to say any more.

Ivy’s eyes danced with amusement. “She’s mighty pretty, ain’t she, Brody. You sweet on her?”

Brody’s brow furrowed. “Hush up, Ivy.”

Ivy’s smile broke free as quick as a ray of sunshine emerging from behind the clouds. “Guess you are.”

Brody didn’t bother with an answer, and instead he spun away and stalked toward the horse stalls.

“’Bout time you got yourself a woman,” Ivy called after him. “Even if I can’t see what a pretty lady like her sees in a big ol’ grump like you.”

Brody swung open a stall door and disappeared inside.

Savannah was tempted to race after him and reassure him Ivy was just teasing, that he had nothing to worry about from her. But she held herself back, guessing Ivy was the only one in the family who didn’t treat Brody like he was a fragile piece of cracked clay. And maybe being treated like he was normal was just as important to his healing process as the tender loving care the rest of the family lavished on him.

“Glad to see you could fix up the little fella there.” Ivy took in the injured yearling lying on the bed of fresh hay.

“A few days of resting, and he should be well on his way to walking again.”

Elmer shuffled into the barn on his bowlegs, bumping up the brim of his hat. He cocked his head toward the yearling. “I can keep my eye on ’im if you got a mind to ride along.”

Savannah had heard about the wild horses that made the Rockies their home. Old tales pointed to the Utes acquiring the horses from the Spanish centuries ago, but because the natives hadn’t corralled their horses, so many had escaped into the wilderness that now undomesticated herds roamed much of the Rocky Mountains.