room. “I see you’re getting along with the old cast iron stove.”
Mattie placed the rose in a quart jar and set it on the table. “It suits me.” She pulled out a chair for him and returned to her work.
Rather than sit, Gil followed her and lifted the lid on a pot of mashed potatoes. “Thanks for having me over — though I have to admit, your invitation surprised me.”
She turned the golden pieces of chicken with a fork, then her small hands stilled. “I’ve been trying to build up the nerve for a few weeks now. But why not? We’re grown adults. Live on the same property. I don’t see why we can’t do things together every once in a while — do you?”
“No, I don’t. Not at all,” Gil said, determined to enjoy this moment without worrying about the future.
A timer went off, and Mattie opened the heavy oven door to reveal a pan of golden biscuits.
“Can’t have fried chicken without homemade biscuits.” She grinned, and Gil realized he was in heaven.
When they sat down at the table, Gil tasted every creation —buttery potatoes, crisp pan-fried chicken, flaky biscuits topped with strawberry preserves. The doc cooked like an angel. She looked like one, too, dressed in jeans and a sweater with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, little wispy curls on each side of her face.
“I wanted to talk to you about Dusty,” she said. “He’s doing much better now that his stomach ulcers have healed. His appetite has improved as well. Almost as good as yours,” she teased and tore off a piece of chicken with her fork.
“Sorry about that. I guess I got carried away.” Gil wiped his mouth on a napkin, conscious of how quickly he was devouring the meal. That’s one thing about football players — we like to eat, and this meal you made is very good.” He smiled, then made an effort to slow his eating.
Mattie set her fork down and rested her chin on her hand, studying him. “What you’ve done for that horse’s recuperation ought to go in medical books.”
Gil stopped chewing. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’ve observed you and Dusty together. You’re connected. It’s like he knows you’re rooting for him, and he finds the strength to go one more step. It’s been amazing to watch.”
“I’m just being his friend like you instructed.”
“And I’m telling you, it’s made a difference. You’ve impressed me with how much you care.” Her gaze drifted to her lap, her skin glowing with admiration.
Gil cleared his throat, starting to feel embarrassed yet loving her attention. “I called that ranch in Central Kansas and arranged to see the horses on Saturday. Do you think you’d be able to go with me? Maybe Jake could check on your patients and take care of Dusty for the day?”
The thought of spending an entire day with Mattie made Gil’s heart beat faster.
“That’s not much notice, but I think Travis could handle it.”
Gil stopped chewing. “Travis?”
The doc nodded. “I hired him back part-time to help with the patients. He’s supposed to start next week, but I could ask him to come in early.”
“Well, if it’s not too much trouble,” Gil said, but the potatoes in his mouth changed to paste at the thought of the handsome college intern.
THIRTY-ONE
SATURDAY MORNING, GIL TURNED HIS TRUCK ONTO A PITTED GRAVEL road north of Russell and headed for the Chappell Quarter Horse Ranch near the Saline River. He and Mattie soon passed through the entrance of a spacious property consisting of several barns and a brick ranch house, surrounded by a fenced pasture.
When Gil shut off the diesel engine, a sturdy woman exited the barn, followed by a tall, lanky man wearing a ball cap.
Gil caught the fresh, damp scent of rain as he stepped from his truck onto the sodden gravel. He grabbed his hat and jacket from the backseat.
“You the fellow that called about the mares?” The woman held out her hand to greet him, and he noted her graying blonde hair, firm grip.
“That’s right. Gil McCray.” He turned to the doc, who was getting out of the truck. “This is Mattie Evans, the vet I spoke of on the telephone.”
“Nice to meet you. My name’s Yvonne, and this here’s my husband, Wayne.” The woman smiled, her face tan and wrinkled. “I take it you’ve traveled all morning. Probably like to stretch your legs a spell?”
At Gil’s nod, the couple headed for the metal barn, which housed an