Veterinarian's Vixen (Culpepper Cowboys Book 8) Read online

There was a small thump, then the woman groaned. From the sound of things, she was being kissed hard.

  Wincing over what she was interrupting, Nancy called out, “Help?”

  Twin gasps, male and female, followed. “Hello?”

  Hope rushed through Nancy. “Help! I’m trapped in the potty!”

  “Nancy?” the woman asked.

  Nancy perked up. “Chastity?”

  The scuffle of feet running to where she was trapped followed.

  “What are you doing in here?” It was Chris Culpepper who answered.

  “Stu trapped me in here somehow,” Nancy rushed to explain. She surged as close to their voices as she could without touching anything.

  “He’s jammed a piece of wood in the door,” Chris said. There was a scrape, a grunt of effort, then a sigh. “It’s really jammed in here hard.”

  “The plastic must have warmed up and expanded since he did it,” Nancy wailed.

  “Hang tight,” Chastity said. “I’ll go get a hammer or something to beat it out.”

  “Wait,” Nancy called through the door. “Go find Doc! I need him.”

  “The race is about to start,” Chris said, uncertainty in his voice.

  Nancy winced. A moan of despair escaped from her before she could stop it.

  “I’ll go get him,” Chastity said with more determination than before. Nancy heard her footsteps rush off.

  “Will you be okay in here if I go find that hammer?” Chris asked. “This piece of wood is really splintery. I don’t think anyone should touch it unless they’ve recently had a tetanus shot.”

  “Okay,” Nancy sighed.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Chris’s footsteps sounded as he dashed off. More than ever, Nancy wanted to sink against the wall and bury her head in her hands. She had to settle for plain old waiting now. Doc would get her out of here. Her friends too, but Doc was the one she wanted.

  8

  He should have been feeling light as a feather and revved up to get his relationship with Nancy off the ground—finally. But no. Instead, dread formed an acidic knot in Doc’s stomach. He couldn’t completely place what it was. It rankled him that someone, that Stu, had hurt a defenseless horse just to win a race. He needed to prove it was that jerk soon and definitively. It gnawed at him that Stu had disappeared, even though all of the horses and racers were beginning to line up at the starting line for the big race. But most of all, it worried Doc that he couldn’t see Nancy in the crowd, no matter which way he looked.

  He sat taller in Booyah’s saddle, squinting as he searched through the gathering crowd around the track Sly had had constructed in a field.

  “She’s out there somewhere, bro,” Sly called from the raised stand where he would fire the starter’s pistol.

  “Yeah,” Doc replied, not in the mood to discuss it. He didn’t want to discuss anything. He wanted action.

  “You’d better get in place,” Arch advised him from the ground below the stand where Sly was. It was a small bit of a comfort to have both of his brothers there for the holiday. He and Arch had barely had time to slap each other on the back and ask how things were going since Arch arrived. Doc wanted to introduce his little brother to his brand new girlfriend…if only he knew where Nancy was.

  “Horses to your mark,” Sly shouted from the stand. It was obvious he knew nothing about proper procedure for races, but he was footing the bill and shelling out the prize money, so he could do whatever he wanted.

  Doc winced as he scanned the crowd around the track one last time. Booyah huffed and danced, eager to join the other horses and run. It didn’t make sense. Nancy had smiled at him earlier with the kind of smile that said she’d stand by his side forever. Okay, maybe he was flattering himself a little, but he certainly felt as though he wanted to stand by her for the rest of his life. Maybe dating wasn’t enough. Maybe he should just come right out and propose, the way the Culpeppers had.

  He maneuvered Boo through the other horses to the lane he’d been assigned to race from. Sly hadn’t been able to buy or rent the kind of professional starting gate that all the big races used. They would have to make do with lines painted on the dirt—like track and field races—instead. Adding to Doc’s sense that everything was wrong, the spaces on either side of his were empty.

  “It’s a shame about Jessie and Valerie’s horse,” Honor said from further down on his left. She wore a dark frown that meant business.

  “You heard about what happened?” Doc asked.

  “Yep.” The fire in her eyes was enough to convince Doc that Honor MacFarlane would be right next to him if they were able to prove Stu was the saboteur…and she would probably be the one to bash Stu’s head in first.

  “It sure is a crying shame.”

  Doc was yanked clean out of those thoughts as the man himself rode calmly into the space on his right side. There he was, Donald Studebaker, grinning like a smug weasel in a shiny racing jersey atop his sleek horse.

  “You won’t get away with what you’ve done,” Doc growled.

  Stu blinked, faking innocence…badly. “What did I do?”

  “You injured Jesse and Valerie’s horse,” Honor snapped. Strawberry danced and dipped her head as if echoing Honor’s accusation.

  “What are you talking about?” Stu laughed. It came out sounding as guilty as sin.

  “Where were you right before and during the parade?” Doc grilled him.

  Stu’s grin turned downright wicked. “I was having it out with an employee—a former employee—of mine.”

  Doc’s throat closed up. Judging by the awful grin that returned to Stu’s face, he was supposed to get the idea from that statement that Stu and Nancy had been doing something lascivious. Doc knew Nancy better than that, though. At least, he did now. But Stu didn’t look like a man who was lying about everything.

  “Where is she?” Doc growled. Too many pieces were clicking into place in his mind. Nancy was missing, Stu was up to no good. There was a connection.

  “Maybe you should ditch the race and go find out.” Stu shrugged.

  There. That was it. “You’re trying to get me to forfeit?”

  “Now why would I do that?” The question dripped with sarcasm.

  Doc glanced up to the stand. Sly was still there, starter pistol in hand, but Karlan Culpepper had climbed up to confer with him about something. The two of them were talking in low voices with serious faces. At one point, Sly glanced to Stu, pointing the starter pistol at him as if pointing him out to Karlan. Doc was mad enough to point it for other reasons.

  “Come on, what’s the delay?” Stu huffed to no one in particular.

  Doc narrowed his eyes at the man. “In a hurry to race?”

  “Shouldn’t you be in a hurry to find that little tart?” Stu snapped back.

  Doc clenched his jaw and tightened his hands on the reins to stop himself from leaping off Boo’s back and tackling the man. “You want to get the race done before anyone discovers that you injured Jesse and Valerie’s horse.”

  Stu snorted. “This from a man who is racing instead of going off to search for his bitch.”

  He would not punch the man. He wouldn’t give Stu the satisfaction.

  “For all you know, she might be hurt too,” Stu went on. “She might be upset. She might be crying. There’s no telling what happened to her.” His words dripped with innuendo.

  Race or no race, every fiber of Doc’s body wanted to turn Boo around and go look for Nancy. Stu was bluffing about having hurt her. He had to be. Then again, he’d hurt a beautiful and majestic horse with no problem. What if he had tried something with Nancy? What if she really was injured somewhere, waiting for him.

  With a growl, he tapped Boo’s sides to back him up. He turned his faithful old friend, ready to gallop off to Nancy’s rescue.

  “Doc! Doc!”

  Doc held his breath as he caught sight of Chastity Culpepper charging toward him across the field. He braced himself, knowing he was about t
o get some answers. He only prayed Nancy wasn’t bleeding or—

  “It’s Nancy,” Chastity shouted as she came close.

  A quick glance to the stand told Doc that Sly and Karlan wouldn’t start the race until whatever Chastity was there to tell them was resolved. Doc nudged Boo to hurry closer to Chastity.

  “Is she hurt? Is she okay?”

  Chastity shook her head as she came to a stop. She coughed, bent double for a moment to catch her breath, then straightened. “She’s trapped in a port-a-potty.”

  “What?” Doc and Honor—who had been watching the entire exchange with Stu closely—exclaimed.

  Chastity flung an arm out to the row of buildings on the far side of the track. “Over there, behind the hardware store. She’s trapped inside of a port-a-potty. And it’s really gross,” she added, wrinkling her face.

  Before Doc could reply, she shook her head and went on. “She says he trapped her in there.” Chastity flung her arm out, pointing at Stu.

  “I did nothing of the sort,” Stu replied, his grin saying exactly the opposite.

  “Liar!” Chastity launched toward him.

  Doc moved Boo into her path to stop her. “We all know he’s a liar.”

  Stu snorted a laugh. “Hadn’t you better go rescue the girl, Doc?”

  The urge to pound Stu into a pulp rose even higher. He wheeled Boo around as if he would do exactly that.

  To the side, Karlan had come down off the stand and was now marching over, Arch at his side. Sly continued to watch the scene from above, pistol in hand.

  “What’s going on?” Karlan asked.

  “This jerk trapped Nancy in a port-a-potty,” Chastity reported.

  “He’s trying to get me to drop out of the race,” Doc added, his voice dark with indecision.

  “He’s also the one who injured Jesse and Valerie’s horse so that it couldn’t compete,” Honor said.

  Karlan glared at Stu.

  “You can’t prove anything.” Stu shrugged. “You gonna go rescue your girl, punk?” he added, sneering at Doc.

  Every muscle in Doc’s body went hard. He knew what he wanted to do—save Nancy—but Stu needed a serious ass-whooping right then.

  “Is she hurt?” he asked Chastity in a low growl.

  “I…I don’t think so,” Chastity said. “She’s definitely not happy, though.”

  “Is she bleeding or is anything broken?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Doc nodded, then sent a look Stu’s way designed to kill. “Then let’s race.”

  Stu’s smugness faltered. “You’re not going to save your poor, defenseless, helpless girlfriend? The one who I could have done anything to?”

  “She didn’t mention anything like that,” Chastity cut in. “Only that he’d trapped her.”

  Still glaring at Stu, Doc said, “You heard her. Let’s race.” He peeled his eyes away to look up at Sly on the stand. “Sly, let’s get this race going.”

  “You said it,” Sly replied.

  Karlan and Arch dashed back to the sidelines. Chastity backed up, turning to go with them. Doc and Honor took their places at the starting line again. Seeing his plan wouldn’t work, Stu crouched low over his horse, gripping the reins.

  Doc tried to loosen up enough to race effectively. One way or another, he wasn’t going to lose. He would win this thing in record time. Every second it took was another second away from the woman he loved, the woman who needed him.

  “On your mark,” Sly said from above, raising the pistol. “Get set, GO!” He fired.

  With as much determination as Doc felt, Booyah lunged forward. His old friend always had been good out of the gate. The surge of horse muscle and energy beneath him gave Doc the boost he needed. He leaned low over Boo’s back and neck and let the old boy run as fast and as hard as he wanted to going into the first curve.

  It was only when he felt that Boo had hit his stride that Doc bothered to look around. He peeked to his right and saw—much to his disappointment—that Stu was racing neck-in-neck with him. Worse still, when they came out of the first turn and galloped down the stretch, Stu pulled ahead. A sneering smile pulled at the man’s ugly face.

  Doc would not be outdone. There was no way he would let Stu stay ahead. Come on, boy, he thought, willing his horse to hear the silent plea.

  Boo responded with a burst of speed on the straightaway. Inch by inch, they caught up to Stu. The horses were side-by-side as they raced into the next turn. The rush of wind filled Doc’s ears. He couldn’t hear the crowd, but he could see people jumping up and down and shouting. It was impossible to tell if anyone was behind them, but there was definitely no one in front.

  They were still even as both horses blew out of the turn. Boo was still going strong. Doc could feel every ounce of determination and fire coursing through his buddy’s blood. He had that fire too. It was hard to tell where man stopped and horse began. To his side, Doc caught a glimpse of Stu smacking his horse’s rump with a whip. That only doubled Doc’s determination. He pressed closer to Boo’s neck, urging him to fight.

  Boo was ahead by a hair as they entered the third turn. This was it. One last turn and then a final gallop would determine the winner. Stu was whipping his horse furiously, but failing to gain ground. Doc would not let the man win. He absolutely would not. He gritted his teeth, opened his heart, and willed Boo to sprint to the finish. It wasn’t about the money anymore. It wasn’t about victor’s laurels or bragging rights. It was about Nancy. It was about getting to her, rescuing her, and wrapping her in his arms as fast as possible. Once she was pressed against him, he would never let her go.

  The finish line was in sight. A ribbon had been stretched across the end of the track. Stu inched his way back up to run neck-in-neck with Doc again. Through the rush of wind and blood in his ears, Doc thought he heard Stu shouting curses at his horse. The man wouldn’t win. He wouldn’t. The finish line grew closer, closer. Stu rode his horse tight against Doc’s side. Was he ahead? Was Doc ahead? It was impossible to tell.

  With a blast, the two horses lunged for the ribbon and the end of the race. The ribbon snapped as if it were nothing. The crowd sheered wildly, jumping and shouting, throwing hats and streamers in the air. Had he won? Doc couldn’t tell. It had been too close.

  Stu pulled back, suddenly disappearing as the race ended. Doc continued to push forward. He lifted enough to see where he was going, to be sure no one was in his way, but he didn’t slow Boo down one bit. They continued to race, off the track and around the side of the crowd. Doc pulled up in time to have Boo leap over a stack of coolers that had been placed by the side of the track, then ran on.

  Ran on toward the hardware store…

  9

  “Oh gosh,” Nancy gasped. She swallowed hard. “Oh-h-h gosh.”

  Panic rose up in her, but that wasn’t the only thing. Now that the port-a-potty was mostly in direct sunlight, it stank to high heaven. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. She’d rattled the door handle a few more times, but was still unwilling to touch the walls. Although at the rate she was going, sheer desperation would lead her to it in a minute.

  “Chris?” she called out as loud as she dared. She didn’t exactly want to take a deep breath to call louder. “Chastity? Help?”

  She strained to listen. The crowd across the field had been cheering for the last few minutes. It had to be the race. Without any sort of PA system calling the race, though, she had no way of telling who was winning. She had no way of knowing if Doc was racing or if Chastity had found him and was bringing him to her. Honestly, she couldn’t decide what she wanted more. Rescue, yes. But the thought of Doc whipping Stu in the race was a good one. A very good one. It kept her going.

  The crowd burst into furious cheers and applause, and Nancy knew the race had to be over. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined Doc winning, imagined the smile on his face as he left Stu in his dust. A flurry of continued shouting from the direction of the track fueled her imagin
ation. She pictured Doc, sitting tall and proud on Booyah, accepting accolades. Good. Doc deserved them. She imagined him being surrounded by well-wishing friends. Someone would bring out a garland of flowers for Boo’s neck. Someone else would hand Doc a trophy or maybe a plaque. He would beam and wave for the cameras. Sly would present him with one of those fancy oversized checks. There would be laughter, congratulations. Good. Doc deserved that. He deserved all that and more. She was content to stand where she was, hugging herself and imagining him—

  “Nancy?”

  Doc’s desperate shout snapped her right out of her imaginings. It was a jolt to hear him so nearby when her imagination had painted such a complete picture of him.

  “Nancy? Where are you?” The sound of hoof-beats slowing to a stop followed, then a thump—presumably Doc dismounting.

  “Doc!” She swayed to the potty door, then recoiled. “Eew. Doc, get me out of here!”

  “I’m working on it, sweetheart.” His voice was still laced with urgency, but it was stronger than his earlier shouts, more confident. “Chris.”

  Even more hope filled Nancy’s chest at the single name. Another set of running footfalls sounded.

  “I got a hammer,” Chris announced. “Don’t try to wrench that out with your bare hands.”

  “How did he even get it in there?” Doc asked.

  His voice was closer now. Nancy could hear him crouch in front of the door. A muffled banging followed.

  “He would have needed a hammer, like that one,” Chris speculated as Doc worked.

  “Yeah, he had a hammer all right.” Doc’s voice was so dark that it struck a little fear into Nancy. But not as much fear as having to stay in the stinky pot for another minute would give her.

  “Why do you say that?” Chris asked the question that was hanging out at the back of Nancy’s mind, behind all the disgust.

  “He’d’ve needed a hammer to pound that nail into Roxie’s hoof.”

  “What?” Nancy yelped in spite of her efforts not to breathe until she was rescued.

  Doc’s hammering continued as he spoke through clenched teeth. “Somebody—we can all guess who—hammered a nail into Jesse and Valerie Savoy’s horse’s hoof. Caused serious damage.”