The Country Vet

She’s got nothing in her kit to cure heartache…

Veterinarian Cass Truman has just landed her first job, in England’s Lake District, and she’s already eager to specialize in caring for horses. Horse breeder Jake Munro could help her achieve this dream; for one thing, he could teach her to ride. Instead, he acts as if he can’t stand her. At first, Cass is happy to return the sentiment—until she learns Jake has suffered a terrible loss. Cass finds herself drawn to the grieving man, and the two bond over their shared affinity for horses. But while Cass can relieve an animal’s suffering, she’s not sure she can ease Jake’s….

“Having trouble?”

Twisting around in her seat, Cass saw a horse and rider trotting toward her. Jake Munro! He was the last person she wanted to see, but it was too late to start her engine and pull out.

She cursed the blush she could feel spreading up her face. “No.”

“I saw you driving out of Sky View.”

“Yes,” she said, determined not to be daunted by his sheer masculinity. “I’ve just rented a cottage from your dad.”

There was an icy glint in his blue eyes, but she held his gaze without faltering. “Don’t worry, though—it’s well away from the farm, so you won’t have to see me.”

He swung his mount away. “It makes no difference to me where you live.”

The angry set of his jaw belied his pronouncement, and Cass found herself hoping he wouldn’t give poor Bill a hard time.

“Look,” she called after him, “I needed somewhere to stay, and your dad had the perfect place.”

Jake reined in. The grey mare tossed her beautiful head, and foam flew like snowflakes.

“I already told you,” he repeated drily, “it means nothing to me where you live.”

But as he rode away, Cass couldn’t help watching. Man and horse, moving as one.

Dear Reader,

I truly believe that we all have a soul mate somewhere out there.

If you find your kindred spirit then never let go. Real love is well worth fighting for. No matter what.

I do hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Be happy,

Eleanor

The Country Vet

Eleanor Jones

ELEANOR JONES

Born and raised on a farm in Northern England, Eleanor Jones has always had a passion for animals and the countryside. She has been writing almost all her life. The poems and stories she wrote as a child, which still grace a cupboard somewhere, were mostly written in longhand. She later wrote articles for an equestrian magazine and her first big break came when she began writing teenage pony mystery stories. These still sell successfully in seven countries throughout Europe and in North America.

Married at eighteen to Peter, she had two children and then set up the Holmescales Riding Centre in Cumbria with her husband. This busy center now trains career students, takes hacks and treks and teaches at all levels from children and total novices to competition riders.

Eleanor still rides every day, schooling and training horses, and her daughter is now a partner in the business and competes at the national level. Her son is married with two children, and she loves to spend as much time with them as she can.

I dedicate this book to all those who love animals and the countryside.

All the best,

Eleanor

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER ONE

JAKE SETTLED EASILY into the saddle, picking up the reins with a confidence born of hours on horseback. Beneath him Carlotta sidled, snorting and shaking her head, sensing her master’s mood and anticipating what she knew was to come. She needed no aid to urge her forward as he turned his eyes, as always, toward the skyline.

There was something about the vast infinity of the sky that made a strange kind of sense to Jake, when it seemed that there was little sense in life anymore. The way the bleak, ancient mass of the fell met the sky’s glorious, timeless canopy, made him feel somehow insignificant, a mere dot in the march of time. He liked insignificance.

The mare’s hooves echoed in his ears as his mind spilled over with memories—memories that flooded out from their confinement, painful and raw. A whole year, twelve long, endless months, and the accident still felt as fresh as it had on the day it happened. Every morning, when he awoke from yet another restless night, he went through the motions, working as hard as he could, talking, smiling, eating—and yet all he felt inside was sadness. The only time he felt even half alive these days was when he was riding.

Asking Carlotta to canter, Jake threw caution to the wind, gathering her up to jump the gate. She rose willingly beneath him, landing effortlessly on the tough grass and galloping up the steep slope of the fell. He leaned forward against her neck, feeling her power beneath him, trying to live in the moment and push all the memories aside. Tara’s cold eyes, the confusion in Robbie’s; his mother, warm and vibrant...and Lucy, dear little Lucy.

* * *

THE CALL CAME in just as Cass was on her way back to the surgery—as the golden, late-summer sun slipped slowly behind the dark mass of the Lakeland hills.

Her first day at the Low Fell Animal Clinic had proved to be a challenge, to say the least, and it seemed that it wasn’t over yet. She forced an image of the irate, red-faced farmer in his muck-splattered overalls, bellowing like one of his bulls, firmly to the back of her mind. “Cass here,” she responded. “What have you got for me?”

Sally’s clear voice filled Cass’s car, her tone clipped and urgent. “We have an emergency...a horse...at Jake Munro’s place. Jake usually insists on having Donald, but he’s miles away. Where are you now?”

Cass glanced around at the rugged countryside.

“I don’t really have a clue, but I’m just leaving Fell Side Farm, if that’s any help...”

“That’s great, you must be nearby. Carry on down the hill toward the village and take your first left up a narrow lane. You can’t miss it. You’ll see the sign on your right—Sky View.”

The sun finally vanished, and long, shadowy fingers fell across the road ahead. Cass headed down the hill, peering over her steering wheel. “What’s the problem, anyway?”

“Sounds like colic. The guy who rang in, Jake Munro’s dad, Bill, seems to think it’s serious.”

“Okay.” Cass blinked, trying to focus her over-stretched brain on the task ahead. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

The narrow lane crept, ribbonlike, around the steep hillside, down toward the dark, shimmering lake far below. She increased her speed as much as she dared, standing on the brakes as amber eyes glowed eerily in the road ahead and breathing a sigh of relief when a flock of sheep scattered in front of her car.

Down in the valley, lights were beginning to twinkle, bright pinpoints in the distance, homes where families were gathering after a busy day, smiling, communicating. Families! Cass felt suffocated as she thought about her own family. It seemed ages since she’d seen her parents, Tim and Molly. Her mother had rung just last night to tell her about the lump she’d found in her breast. It was benign, which was of course a huge relief, but the fact that she hadn’t even told her about it until it was all over had upset Cass.

She knew why her mum had kept quiet, of course, and it was so typical. “I didn’t want to worry you if it wasn’t really necessary,” she’d insisted.

But what if it had been necessary, Cass wondered, and she hadn’t been there to support her mother. For the last few years, all she’d thought about was her career, endlessly studying for the next exam and eventually trying to get a job. Now she had a job, a good job, so surely she should have a chance to stop and reflect, to spend time with her parents. But she was still thinking about herself and trying to get ahead. She had only just started at Low Fell Animal Clinic, but she already knew she wanted to specialize in horses.

Had she been selfish in her single-minded quest to become a vet? she asked herself, shifting down the gears. The answer sprang easily to her mind as an image of her mother’s face settled into place, her tired blue eyes filled with love and kindness. Her mother was always working and always worrying about her only child.

Yes, Cass realized with a lurch of guilt, she had been selfish, yet she knew her parents would not have had it any other way. She had arrived in the world as an afterthought, disrupting their world when they’d both turned forty. Fitting in a baby around running the busy village store her parents had bought when they were first married had been quite a feat, according to Molly. Cass had spent most of her early years in a corner near the vegetables, first in a pram and later in a playpen.

Cass’s heart twisted as she thought about her mother’s recent health scare. The diagnosis could have been serious, and she wouldn’t have known. And Cass bet her mum would have barely taken a day off work. Her parents loved running the store, though. Their customers were their friends, and there was nothing Molly and Tim liked better than to pass the time of day with them, bragging a little about how well she was doing. So at least she’d done that for them. She sighed, peering at her surroundings. At least she’d made them proud.

The sign appeared suddenly, jumping out at her from around a curve in the lane and jerking her from her reverie. Sky View Stables was boldly written in an arc above the noble head of a black horse. Cass spun the wheel and swung her hatchback down the gravel drive, suddenly apprehensive about what she might find here.

* * *

BILL MUNRO PULLED at his whiskered chin. Why did it have to be Rosie, and where the hell was Jake? He had found the little chestnut pony out in the far meadow. She was in a bad way, sweating and kicking her belly, her head covered with cuts where she’d been thrashing on the ground. He had tried to ring Jake, of course, but got no signal, so he’d called the vet before managing to persuade the reluctant pony back to the yard. He had settled her down in a deep bed of straw, but it seemed that all the fight had left her. That was what worried him most—her despondency. He’d seen the signs before, and it didn’t look good.

Car wheels crunched on the gravel. The throb of an engine sputtered and died as the vehicle slithered to a stop. Bill ran out into the yard, waving his arms.

“Over here!”

* * *

CASS CLIMBED FROM her car with controlled urgency, reaching for her bag and breathing deeply to slow the heavy beating of her heart. This was her job and she was well trained to do it. She turned toward the old man, noting the fear and panic in his blue eyes, and took control of the situation as professionalism kicked in. Her voice sounded firm and calm in her ears, as if she was watching herself from afar. “Right, now tell me the symptoms clearly and slowly.”

“It’s Rosie,” the man responded, already heading off across the yard. “She’s bad. Been like that a long time, I think.”

Cass followed hurriedly, running the procedure in her mind.

The pony was standing with its head lowered, sides heaving and a dead look in its eye. Cass’s heart sank—twisted gut in its final stages. She went through the motions, checking the pony’s heart rate and respiration and trying to ease her pain, knowing in her heart that it was already too late.

“Are you the owner?”

Bill Munro’s face was gray, his response stilted. “She belongs to...my son.”

Cass looked at him, her hand upturned in a gesture of helplessness. “I think you know she’s in a bad way. I doubt she’d make it to surgery, even if you wanted to try.”

“Twisted gut?”

She nodded sadly. “I’ve seen it before in old ponies. It could be a bit of fatty tissue that’s twisted itself around the gut. Surgery is always an option, but it has to be fast, and to be honest...”

Bill finished the sentence for her. “You don’t really believe it would be worth putting her through it,”

Cass nodded again, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “I am so sorry.”

Bill pulled out his phone, dialing Jake for the twentieth time. No signal. He thrust it back in his pocket, making the decision. “Just do it.”

“You’re giving me permission to euthanize her?”

“Yes.... Don’t worry. I’ll take the rap.”

Cass’s heart ran cold as she looked at the pretty little chestnut mare whose eyes were dull now with pain and fatigue, her sides straining with the effort to breathe. Cass brushed her hand across her eyes. This wasn’t why she’d trained to become a vet. Her quest was to save life, not end it. She drew the drug into a syringe, automatically tapping out the air bubbles, searching for a vein. She met no resistance from the exhausted pony.

* * *

JAKE STAYED OUT on the hillside as the sun sank slowly downward, lighting the sky with red and gold. Carlotta trotted, eager for home, and he let out a heavy sigh, turning her face back down the steep slope as darkness settled around them.

No matter how bad he felt inside, there were still horses waiting to be fed and chores to do. Life went on remorselessly, and he knew that he would, too—what else was there to do? He’d coped for the past year and he would cope for the next, and the one after that, going through the motions of his empty existence while always believing that if he’d dealt with things a bit better after Tara left, then his mum and Lucy would still be here. His life would still have meaning, and they’d all have a future together.

Jake saw the car as Carlotta jogged sideways through the gate into Sky View. A hatchback, dark green, abandoned in the center of the yard. He reined in, leaping to the ground and drawing the reins over the mare’s head in one smooth, easy movement. Who was here, and what did they want? The gray mare ran eagerly into her stall, diving into her hay net as soon as he removed her bridle.

“I’ll come back and brush you in a bit,” he told her, sliding home the door bolt and depositing her tack on the ground before striding toward the car.

Rosie’s stall door was ajar, he noted with a sudden jolt of alarm, peering into the sweet-smelling darkness of her empty stall. Voices trickled over from across the yard. There was someone in the barn. A light shone through the half-open door, casting a glow into the evening gloom and bringing a glisten of gold to the feathers of the ruddy-brown chicken that squawked its displeasure at being disturbed. What was going on? He hesitated, suddenly afraid of what he might find in the barn.

She materialized as if by magic, sleek dark hair and pale skin, staring at him with fathomless brown eyes. He sensed her pain, felt it even before she spoke, and for one endless moment she seemed so familiar, so vulnerable, that his every instinct was to just hold out his arms. When she stepped toward him, holding his gaze, her eyes shone with what looked like unshed tears. Something tore at the numb place in his heart and he froze, raising his barriers as her dark eyes slid away from his. There was no room in his life for compassion anymore, or any other emotion for that matter—only the raw anger that was his constant companion.

Her voice was soft and gentle, caring. “I am so, so sorry.”

The beam of light from the barn fell across his foot. He stared at it, watching the dust dance within its confines before glancing back at the girl.

“There was nothing else I could do.”

“I gave her permission.” His father stepped into view, jaw set and eyes shadowed with grief. Jake pushed past him, his heart already hitting his boots.

Rosie lay motionless on the soft sweet hay. Her eyes were already glazed. He dropped to his knees, stroking her face. The pain he had tried to block out rushed back in one tumultuous wave of grief, erupting into anger. An anger he directed at the woman who had ended Rosie’s life and taken Lucy away from him all over again—the woman who had dared to penetrate the part of him that was so carefully sealed away.

“I am so, so sorry,” she repeated.

Jake towered above her, fists tightly clenched as rage seeped from his every pore. His voice was icy cold. “You did this?”

Cass tried to explain, stumbling on the words. “The pony was suffering. I had no other option.”

He just stared at her, taut-jawed and hollow-eyed. “Donald could have saved her. Why isn’t he here?”

“No one could have saved her. It was too late.”

Jake’s face was blank, expressionless. “I want a postmortem.”

Her heart thudded hard inside her chest as she fought for breath “I’ll do it right now.”

“No!” He turned on his heel. “I’ll get Donald to do it.”

She watched his tall, angular figure disappear across the yard, back toward the stable, not realizing she was twisting her fingers fiercely together until she felt the warmth of a rough hand over hers.

“I am so sorry, lass,” Bill Munro said with a sad smile. “I know you had to do it. I can only apologize for my son but he does have his reasons for being so hostile.”

“I am truly sorry about your pony,” she said again, pushing her hands deep into her pockets. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do a postmortem right now?”

Bill shook his head. “Thanks, but we’d better leave it to Donald.... No doubt Jake will be apologizing after.”

“I don’t need his apologies,” she said quietly, walking to her car. “I did what I had to do...as he’ll find out.”

CHAPTER TWO

CASS DROVE BACK to the clinic on autopilot, her heart heavy with a dull ache that spread through her whole body. She’d had no choice, she knew that, and so did the old man who’d given his permission. Healing the pain of innocent animals was the whole reason she’d become a vet. The taking of life was the dark side of her job, but sometimes necessary. It had been a sad relief to see the pain-misted eyes of the sweet little pony glaze over. Surely the man...Jake...must have understood that. Then why had he been so hostile? Or was that just his way of dealing with pain?

The older man, Bill, had followed Cass to her car, still trying to explain. Rosie had been Jake’s daughter’s pony, he said, his last real link with her, so obviously he was upset. Normally, the only vet Jake ever allowed near his horses was Donald, which didn’t help the situation.

What had happened to his daughter? Cass wondered, looking out for the sign to Little Dale. She would be glad when today was over and she could forget about Jake Munro and the poor, unfortunate pony—not that there was much chance of that, she realized. The memories were already crowding back. What was it about the man that had made such an impression on her, anyway?

She would never forget the echoing ring of horse’s hooves on the hard surface of the yard, breaking the awful silence of death in the barn and giving her an excuse to escape from the emotion that threatened to suffocate her. She had stepped out into the dusk of evening in a daze, blinking to focus in the half light as Jake Munro appeared from the shadows, looming above her. For some reason, it was his scuffed tan boots that she’d noticed first. Her gaze had settled on their well-worn toes, traveling up jean-clad legs to finally meet his glittering blue eyes, eyes that had held hers with such a fierce intensity it seemed for a moment as if the world stood still. And for one crazy, endless second she had wanted to run into his arms and release all the agony of the last half hour.

Cass blinked hard, focusing on her driving—anything to cut out the embarrassment of that moment. Was she going absolutely crazy, reacting like that to a total stranger?

“Cass Truman,” she told herself out loud. “You need to get a grip. It wasn’t the first time you’ve had a hard task, and it sure won’t be the last, so get over it.”

The sign for the clinic loomed ahead. With a sigh of relief, she pulled into the cobbled yard behind the huddle of buildings and cut the engine, allowing her thoughts to go back to the poor old pony once again. Damn Jake Munro. She’d done what she had to do, she knew that, and if he demanded a postmortem, then he would know it, too.

* * *

“BIT OF TROUBLE TODAY, Cassandra?”

Todd Andrews, her boss at Low Fell Animal Clinic, looked up with a quizzical smile as Cass walked in. Despite his pleasant expression, she could see that he wasn’t happy. Her heart sank. She was still on probation here, and she could do without upsetting the boss on her first day.

“Not really. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “It had to be done, and if the pony’s owner was upset, I apologize. I’m here to care for animals, though, not people.”

“Whoa...pony? I was talking about Tom Alston.”

An image of the angry, muddy farmer flashed back into her mind and she rolled her eyes, shrugging. “He doesn’t like new vets, that’s all. Especially slightly-built female ones, I guess, as he kept harping on about me not being strong enough to do the job. Well, I am strong enough, and I can’t do anything about my gender, can I?”

Suddenly Todd grinned, his expression relaxing. “Look Cassandra,” he began.

“Cass,” she cut in. “Sorry, I hate Cassandra.”

Todd ignored her comment. “You’re bound to have the occasional problem with the older farmers around here, I’m afraid. Some of them are still living in the 1960s. Could you just try and charm them a little? It might help.”

“I’m not that good on charm,” Cass replied. “But I will try. Men like Tom Alston drive me nuts, though.”

“He’s just a struggling hill farmer, like a lot of others around here.” Todd sighed, running one hand through his curly gray hair. “He’s trying to make a living in the same way as his father and his grandfather did before him when it’s hardly possible anymore.”

Cass’s face softened. “I guess,” she agreed. “It’s just that I hate being bullied.”

“So what was the problem with the pony then?” Todd asked reluctantly. The phone rang before Cass could complete her explanation. Todd held the phone away from his ear and Jake’s raised voice boomed out into the room.

“How could she have been so sure it was a twisted gut? She should’ve called for backup...rung you...anything!”

Todd’s thick, dark eyebrows drew together, meeting in an arc above his nose. Cass found herself concentrating on them as she listened to her boss’s calm, deep voice assuring Jake that she was well qualified and promising a postmortem first thing in the morning.

Todd hung up and sighed again. “He wants Donald to do the postmortem.”

“I don’t care what Jake Munro says,” she snapped. “Or what his excuses are. The pony was suffering—his father could see it. He agreed with me. I could have done the postmortem there and then, shown him the proof. I offered.”

“He will only have Donald,” Todd repeated. “He’s our best horse vet, after all.”

Hot color flooded Cass’s face. “I’m really sorry for going on about this, but I know I did the right thing. I suppose the whole situation upset me, to be honest. The pony was so sweet.” She held up her hands, smiling apologetically. “I know that’s not very professional.”