Tempted by a Cowboy - Vicki Lewis Thompson Page 0,1

that might be wishful thinking on her part.

“One thing’s for sure,” he said. “I won’t breed her again. She deserves a rest.”

“Yes, she does.” Although he didn’t know it, Astrid could offer to invest in his ranch and eliminate most of his money problems. She constantly battled the urge to do exactly that. But giving him money would change their relationship forever, and she selfishly wanted to keep that relationship as it was, even if friendship was all she’d ever have.

None of her clients realized she came from a wealthy family, and she preferred it that way. She’d learned from sad experience that being worth millions usually affected how people viewed her. She wanted to be seen as a competent professional who took her vocation seriously.

She might not need the money she earned, but she considered it validation that she was good at her job. Her parents wished she’d spend less time at work and more time at social events looking for eligible billionaires to marry. She didn’t care to take the time right now. Eventually she’d want a home and kids, and she’d probably end up with a wealthy man. Her mother thought that was the only way to avoid hooking up with a fortune hunter, and there was some truth in that.

“Good, she’s lying down again.” Fletch went back into the stall. “Maybe this is it.”

“Fingers crossed.” Astrid picked up her bag and followed him.

He walked around behind the horse and glanced over at Astrid. “I hate that you have to be up so late, but I really need—”

“Don’t give it another thought. I want to be here.” Janis, and Fletch’s concern for his favorite brood mare, had been her priority for some time. She’d reluctantly cancelled a trip to Paris with her girlfriends because Janis’s condition had been unstable. Now they were down to the wire, and she couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here in this stall with the mare . . . and Fletch.

He hadn’t owned the ranch long, only about three years, but he’d been a cowhand all his adult life, and the Rocking G was evidence of his ability to work hard toward a goal. She admired his grit more than she could say. Compared to him, she’d encountered no real obstacles in her quest to become a vet, unless she counted the expectations of her parents. They weren’t pleased that she’d chosen a profession that included getting covered in blood, and occasionally horse manure.

Although their snooty attitude bothered her, she loved them deeply and couldn’t deny how much they’d done for her, in spite of their disapproval of her choices. They’d paid for her extensive schooling, and her trust fund had financed her clinic. To completely ignore their wishes and advice on marriage would be ungrateful.

But sometimes she wished that she could be what Fletch assumed her to be—a self-made woman in the same way he was a self-made man. She wondered if he’d respect her as much if he knew her career had been handed to her on a silver platter. Maybe he wouldn’t care. He seemed open-minded about most things. Still, she wasn’t ready to test it.

For now, they had a birth to attend to. And Janis finally appeared ready to get the job done. Astrid knelt behind her and said a little prayer. This was the moment of truth. If the mare couldn’t manage this on her own, Astrid was prepared to intervene, but that would require methods that would stress both mother and baby.

Fletch stroked Janis’s neck as he’d done before and crooned encouraging words.

“That’s good,” Astrid said. “Keep talking to her.” She had a sudden flash of what he’d be like in the delivery room waiting for his own child. He’d be solid as a rock, but empathetic, too.

“I’d sing her “The Rose,” except my singing has been known to stampede cattle.”

Astrid smiled. “I love that song.” She wasn’t surprised that he did, too. They connected on so many levels.

“You wouldn’t after I finished singing it. You’d beg for mercy.”

“Talking works just fine. I’m sure she senses your confidence in her.” So did Astrid. Knowing he trusted her with an animal he loved did wonders for her self-esteem.

“I hope so. But I have to tell you, I’m sweating bullets.”

“Join the club.”

And then Janis groaned and heaved, and just like that, the process started. No matter how many times Astrid witnessed the birth of a foal, she was awed by the first thrust of tiny forelegs, followed by a