To Love Someone (Baytown Boys #14) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,12
perspired but otherwise totally unremarkable.
Leaning forward, she caught sight of the row of freckles across her cheeks. The similarity to the cover image of a childhood book she used to read, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, struck her. The freckles were cute when she was a child but irritating as an adult. Especially an adult that looked much younger than she was. God, I need more sleep!
Shaking her head to dislodge the ridiculous early-morning musings, she splashed water on her face and grabbed her tub of moisturizer. She never worried with makeup but as much as she was outside knew that moisturizer and sunscreen were essential. Quickly finishing in the bathroom, she dressed in a pair of jeans, a worn T-shirt with her clinic logo, and a light jacket. Pulling on thick cotton socks, she looked down at Frodo sleeping.
“Damn, boy, I hate making you go out into your pen, but I have no idea how long I’m going to be gone.” He groaned as he stood, and she grabbed some food before jamming her feet into her thick rubber boots and heading outside to secure him inside his pen. “If I can get away early today, I will.” The past two months without Tom hadn’t been easy, but she was getting used to long days and little sleep.
It took a few tries for her old truck to start, but it finally rumbled to life. There was sparse traffic on the Eastern Shore, and she made it quickly to the Weston Farm as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon.
Lizzie’s grandparents had owned the farm, and when Samantha had first come to the Eastern Shore, she met Beau Weston. His granddaughter, Lizzie, had convinced him that goats and alpacas would be money makers for them, and he indulged her whim. A whim that turned out to be right. Lizzie received the necessary permits for the alpacas, and even though Beau was now gone, she was running Weston farms with great ideas for her goat’s milk soap and lotions, hair sales from alpaca shearings, and animal petting days.
Pulling off the road, she drove under the Weston Farms sign and followed the gravel drive past the large, beautiful, white farmhouse around toward the barn and pastures. Scott Redding, Lizzie’s boyfriend, was standing outside waiting for her as were the County Sheriff, Colt Hudson, and three deputies. What the hell is the sheriff doing here? Glancing to the side, she also saw several of their friends offering support to a distraught Lizzie.
She turned off the truck engine but it continued to sputter and chug until it finally quit. She could see Colt shaking his head, staring at her, and had no doubt he was thinking she needed to get a new vehicle. In fact, as she looked at all of the faces standing there, she could see the same expression. “They can bite me,” she grumbled to herself as she got out of her truck, trying to shake off the fatigue that was her constant companion. It seemed like all her money was going right back into the vet business, and considering she worked all the time, she had no idea when she’d be able to buy a new vehicle… even if she was willing to give the old one up.
Rounding the front of the truck, her gaze shot out to the pasture where she could see the animals lying on the ground. She jerked around and observed Lizzie’s tearful face, her heart going out to her. “Oh, fuck, Lizzie. I’m so sorry.”
“Please, Sam, tell me they didn’t suffer.”
Whenever an animal died, owners always begged to be assured that their pet had not suffered. Half the time, Samantha knew she was lying to them but figured the little bit of peace was a gift she could offer. In this case, having not examined the animals, she had no idea what to say, and shooting a glance toward the show of law enforcement nearby, she sighed heavily. “Lizzie, honey, why don’t you let Scott take you back to the house? I’ll take a look and… um… talk to the Sheriff. As soon as I know what we’re dealing with, honey, I promise I’ll come talk to you.”
She waited until Scott nodded his appreciation and one of their friends, Katelyn, took Lizzie’s arm, leading her back into the house. She walked into the pasture and knelt by the goats, the knees of her jeans instantly soaking up the heavy dew. Ignoring the wetness, she