Bear Vet by Zoe Chant

Chapter One

As Judy walkedacross the meadow, she was followed by an invisible herd of horses.

She could almost feel them lipping at her sleeves or blowing their warm breath down the back of her neck. Katrina, the regal appaloosa alpha mare, stretched out her neck to enjoy the sun. Tucker, the elderly chestnut gelding, clopped along with a steady gait, with Little Bit the donkey tagging behind him. Curstaidh, the tiny mini Shetland who expected to be treated with the deference due to an empress, rolled in a patch of buttercups.

The herd was only present in her mind, but unlike the horses she’d dreamed of when she’d been a little girl, they weren’t imaginary. They were her rescue horses, the horses she’d been forced to leave behind in her desperate quest to find them a new home.

While dream-horses were only a pale substitute for real ones, Judy had to admit that imaginary horses had one big advantage: they were free. Her actual herd, back at the ranch that the bank was about to seize out from under her, cost the equivalent of a car payment every month. Each.

She had to find a home for them. She had to. And that meant somehow coming up with the money to pay for it all.

Judy fished around in her tote bag for her phone, braced herself, and got online. If there was one thing she disliked and avoided, it was social media. But after all her normal, sensible attempts to save Horse Hope Rescue had failed to raise enough money to do so, she’d given in and taken the horrifying piece of advice people kept suggesting: launch a viral internet money-raising campaign.

Reluctantly, she got on Instagram and flipped past photos of slim and petite yet full-breasted young women smiling in meadows, wearing gauzy dresses that Curstaidh and Little Bit would love to chomp on and Tucker would accidentally step on and rip off. And if that didn’t happen, the first time those billowing dresses flapped in the breeze, Reckless Lady would startle and bolt.

But the thought of her horses put steel in her spine. Regardless of how much Judy disliked taking photos of herself and didn’t resemble the Instagram women in the slightest, selfies were clearly expected. She plastered on a smile, aimed the phone so the stable was in the background, took the shot, uploaded it while trying not to actually look at it, and captioned it.

Checking out a ranch for sale in a beautiful little town called La Puerta. That means gateway in Spanish. With your help, this campaign could be the GATEWAY to a new home for Horse Hope Rescue!

She re-read it, shuddered, hit post before she could change her mind, and dropped the phone back in her tote. Before it vanished from view, she caught a glimpse of the “likes” on her last Instagram post. They’d gone up since she’d last forced herself to check… from two to three.

It’s a start, she told herself. Then she dismissed the nagging worries about Instagram and money from her mind, and focused on inspecting the ranch.

It was an excellent site—the best she’d seen so far. The meadows were a bit yellowed and crispy at the moment, but that was normal for summer. In the spring they’d be lush and green. The paddock was big and the posts were solid, though the rest of the fencing was neglected and would need repairs.

The surrounding forest was full of hiking trails, many of which allowed horses. Enough people in La Puerta owned horses that she could open a riding school to fund the rescue… if she could somehow acquire enough money to get it all started.

She walked down a gentle slope to take a look at the stable. Considering how long the whole ranch had been unoccupied, the stable was in good shape. From the outside, anyway. The owners had told her she could walk on in, adding that there was nothing in it to steal, but Judy was still surprised when she pushed the door and it swung open. La Puerta must be a very safe town if you could leave abandoned buildings open and not worry about them getting vandalized. There was another mark in its favor.

The door swung shut behind her, but the sunlight coming in through the windows was plenty to see by. The empty stable smelled like dust and hay. With no horses, it was a lonely place. Judy walked around, inspecting it closely. It was neglected, with evidence of mice in the stalls and owls in the rafters, but she didn’t see any actual damage. It needed cleaning, not repairs. And it was easily big enough to house her horses, with extra stalls for any new rescues that might come her way. The entire ranch seemed perfect—if she could find a way to afford it.

But without the money to pay for it, the big echoing space of the stable made her feel small and alone. She was trying to accomplish something important and difficult, with lives depending on it, and she wasn’t sure she was up to it. For all that Judy treasured her independence, sometimes she couldn’t help wishing she had someone to stand at her side. Someone who would support her goals and respect her choices. Someone she could lean on and who wouldn’t make her feel like she was weak for doing so.

Someone who would love her. Not with the platonic fondness people felt for a mentor or a teacher or a friend, but with the hot, wild passion of a man for a woman.

And while I’m wishing for things that don’t exist, let’s throw in that he’s tall and built and handsome and has eyes that make me melt inside, she thought. How about that for impossible?

Men like that did exist, she supposed. But their lives would only intersect with hers in passing. While Judy had been working at stables and giving riding lessons and saving her money, they’d been working normal jobs and dating ordinary women. When she’d started Horse Hope Rescue, they’d gotten married and had kids.

And now, while her dreams were falling apart, their lives continued on the steady path they’d been on from the start. That big handsome guy she’d imagined had met the woman of his dreams fifteen or twenty years ago. He owned a house. He had a dog. He might donate to Horse Hope Rescue or send his kids to her for riding lessons, but she would never be the one he loved. She’d gone down a different path than the one that led to love, years and years ago.

“And I don’t regret it,” she said aloud, her words echoing and defiant in the empty stable. “There’s a lot of horses alive and happy today who wouldn’t be if I’d gone down the husband-kids-house-dog path.”

The sound of her own voice brought her down to earth. Judy resumed her inspection of the stable.

A movement caught her eye, a shape moving through the forest outside the stable window. A deer? She enjoyed watching deer, with their huge mouselike ears and hilariously bouncy way of running that always made her supply a mental soundtrack of BOING BOING BOING. Judy moved closer to the wall and peeked out the window, keeping out of sight so she wouldn’t scare it away.

A beautiful black colt stepped lightly out of the forest, glancing about with the wariness of a wild animal.

Judy watched him, fascinated. The young horse wasn’t any breed she recognized, which meant he was either mixed or something very exotic indeed. He might be part Arabian, with his long, lean muscles and elegantly arched neck, but the rest stumped her. His black coat had an unusual sheen, glinting a deep red in the sunlight. Maybe someone had bred an Arabian to a golden Akhal-Teke, in the hope of getting a strong, swift horse with a coat that shimmered like polished metal.

The colt’s nostrils flared as he sniffed at the air. He wasn’t on a halter, and he seemed to be alone. How strange. As far as she knew, there was no other ranch nearby, and no one in their right mind would let a magnificent horse like him wander alone through the woods. Could he have escaped from a corral?

A soft chirrup broke the silence. Judy craned her neck and spotted a girl of about thirteen with flaming red hair, sitting atop a duffel bag and holding out a carrot.

“Come on,” murmured the girl. “Nice carrot, crunchy and sweet.”

The colt snorted, then took a step toward her. Judy could see that he wanted the carrot, but was nervous about coming too close. If the girl stood up to offer it to him, he’d bolt for sure. Judy wanted to warn her, but anything she said would also scare the colt. She resigned herself to watching this lovely little moment end in disappointment.

But the red-headed girl obviously knew how to deal with skittish horses. Long minutes passed while the colt hesitated or even stepped back. But the girl made no sudden movements, sitting perfectly still on her bag, holding out the carrot and speaking in a soft, reassuring tone. She seemed to have infinite reserves of patience, which was essential when dealing with horses but impressive for a girl so young.

Transfixed, Judy watched the girl coax the black colt closer. It was like every horse book she’d ever loved when she’d been thirteen herself, reading and dreaming of horses. But those books were fiction, and usually historical fiction at that. Girls didn’t tame wild horses nowadays. And yet that was exactly what seemed to be happening.

Judy didn’t dare to move. If the colt heard or saw her, she’d ruin their moment. She stood silent and still, watching as the colt came closer and closer, while the girl spoke to him softly, telling him he was beautiful and she loved him and she’d picked out the very best carrot, specifically for him. At last, the colt lowered his head and took a delicate bite, eating out of the girl’s hand.

The roar of an engine broke the silence.

The colt startled, wheeling away from the girl, and burst into flames.

Judy gasped, barely able to believe her eyes. Flickering flames covered the colt’s body, and yet he wasn’t burned. His mane and tail and fetlocks were streams of fire, and his eyes were like burning coals. He snorted, expelling smoke from his nostrils.

But the girl didn’t seem afraid. She didn’t even seem surprised. Softly, she said, “Easy, boy. Easy—”

A pickup truck barreled around a corner, coming in fast.

The colt bolted for the woods, flame streaming behind him. Embers flew up from around his hooves as he galloped away. In his path, the dry grass began to smolder and burn. As he approached the trees, the flames that surrounded him winked out, leaving him a black shape amidst shadows. The colt vanished into the forest.

But the fires he had set in the meadow remained. The crisp dry grass was perfect fuel. The flames hungrily ate up the grass, spreading outward in all directions. More sparks began to fly, setting even more fires.

Judy ran for the stable door. She could think about the impossible thing she’d seen later. Right now, she had to protect the girl. And that meant putting out the fire before she got trapped in it.

She emerged from the stable just in time to see the pickup truck come to a sudden, jarring stop in a cloud of dust. A big man leaped out, a fire extinguisher clutched in his brawny arms, and ran toward the flames.

What looked like a hundred small fires were crackling and spreading, sending up trails of smoke. Judy knew how fast even a single grass fire could get out of control, turning into a deadly forest fire. She wrapped her scarf around her face to protect herself from smoke inhalation and burning embers, ran straight for the nearest fire, and stamped it out. Her hiking boots made quick work of it, and she hurried to the next.

Judy was too busy stomping to spare much attention for anything else, and the scarf around her face made everything blurry. But out of the corner of her eye she saw the red-headed girl take a fire extinguisher from her duffel bag and begin hosing down the fires.

She wasn’t surprised when the colt caught fire, Judy thought in the tiny corner of her mind that wasn’t devoted to firefighting. She brought a fire extinguisher. Whatever that fiery horse is, she knows all about him… and she’s not afraid.

The man headed straight for the worst fires, the ones too big for Judy to stomp. There was so much smoke now that between that and the scarf, she couldn’t see his face. All she could tell was that he was both broad and tall, and either he had red-gold hair or his head was on fire. From his lack of reaction, she assumed the former.

As he expertly wielded the fire extinguisher, she saw his head swing in what might have been a curious glance in her direction, and then he turned to the girl.

“RAELYNN!” the big man bellowed, stomping on a patch of flame like it had personally pissed him off. “You could’ve been killed!”

The girl’s—Raelynn’s—fire extinguisher ran out with a sputter. She dropped it and took another from the bag, yelling, “I was completely safe till YOU came and scared him, Dad!”

Judy’s eyes were streaming from the acrid, choking smoke. The heat was so intense that she was already soaked in sweat. But even as she set her back to the woods and stomped a racing line of flame before it could touch a tree, she thought, Dad?

Raelynn’s father yelled, “I specifically told you to stay away from that horse!”

“I never said I—” Raelynn yelled, but was interrupted by a fit of coughing.

“Raelynn, get back to the truck,” her father ordered. “I’ll handle this.”

“No!” she spluttered, spraying the meadow with the second fire extinguisher. “He’s my colt! This is my responsibility!”

Fire blazed bright and hot around Judy, forcing her backward. While she’d been busy putting out a fire on her right, flames had crept up to her left and behind her. She spun around, ready to make a break for it, and saw that the fire she’d just put out had sprung up again.

To her horror, she realized that she’d fallen victim to the exact danger she’d been trying to protect Raelynn from. Judy was trapped in a ring of fire.

The big man’s head jerked up. “Ma’am, hold still and close your eyes!”

Judy controlled her fear and did as he said. She heard a whooshing sound, and then felt a blessed relief from the heat.

“You can open your eyes now,” he said. “You’re safe.”

She opened them. The air was smoky and hazed with heat, and the scarf she’d wrapped around her face was wet with sweat and flecked with fire extinguisher foam. But the flames were gone, smothered in foam.

The entire fire was out, she realized. The flames that had circled her had been the last of it. Between the three of them, they’d fought the fire—and won.

Her relief was interrupted by the immediate resumption of the father-daughter yelling match.

“Raelynn, how could you?!”

“He’s my horse and I’m going to tame him!”

“He is NOT your horse, he’s a dangerous beast and you need to stay away from him!”

“You can’t make me!”

“I’m your father and you’ll do what I say!”

“Not when it comes to MY horse!” Raelynn’s voice rose to a shriek, then broke off as she began to cough again.

Judy, who had felt intensely awkward standing there in the middle of a family fight, seized the opportunity to interrupt it. “Let’s get away from the smoke.”

“Good idea,” said Raelynn’s father. “Come on, Rae. Take the extinguishers. No littering.”

“Dad! I know better than that!”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said the big man, turning to Judy. His voice was a little hoarse from smoke, but she could hear the richness of its timbre when he wasn’t shouting or giving orders. “You helped save my daughter. I’m very grateful.” Turning back to Raelynn, he added, “And you shouldn’t have needed saving!”

“I didn’t need saving!” Raelynn retorted. “And if you hadn’t spied on me and spooked him, everything would’ve been fine!”

“Sneaking out of school and getting close to a dangerous beast is not fine,” her father said, his voice rising. “And it’s not spying to protect my own daughter!”

“I don’t need protection!”

Judy was very familiar with this sort of father-daughter quarrel, but that didn’t make it any easier to listen to. Once again, she tried interrupting—but this time, with a distraction that would last longer than her last one.

Raising her voice to be heard above the yelling and through the scarf she still had over her face, Judy said, “I saw that colt set the field on fire. And you obviously both know about him. Exactly what is going on here?”

A dead silence fell. Father and daughter glanced at each other, united at last in what Judy suspected was a mutual and desperate attempt to produce a reasonable cover story.

Before either of them could come up with one, Judy added, “And don’t even think of claiming it was a hallucination or an optical illusion or a special effect. The colt was real. I saw him. I helped you put out the fire he set. Have the respect to tell me the truth.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the man. His deep voice was serious on the surface, but held a hint of humor beneath. But not as if he was making fun of her, more as if he was inviting her to share in his amusement at how thoroughly she’d forced his hand.

“We’ll tell you everything,” Raelynn promised. Now that the fight had been interrupted, all anger had vanished from her voice. If anything, she sounded eager to spill the beans… whatever they were.

The scarf Judy had wrapped around her face was hot and clingy, damp with sweat and reeking of smoke. She peeled it off, wiped her face with her hand, and got her first good look at Raelynn’s father.

She’d seen before that he was a big man, both broad and tall. But now she could see his impressive musculature with clarity. He was a Viking of a man, one who looked like he could uproot trees with his bare hands and toss them across a field. His red-gold hair and short beard were bright in the sun, almost as bright as the flames he’d fought, and his strong features only added to the general impression of a warrior of old somehow transported to the present day. But his expression was kind rather than fierce, and his blue eyes held gentleness as well as strength.

Judy, who usually tried not to even think about sex on the principle that it was too frustrating to tempt herself with nice things she couldn’t have, caught herself thinking, I could climb him like a tree.

But he had a daughter. That meant he was married. Of course he was married. Kid, house, dog, wife: she knew the score.

The deep blue of his gaze caught her attention again, and made her want to be wrong. So he had a daughter. That didn’t necessarily mean he was still married, or ever married. She glanced down at his left hand. No ring. But he could have taken it off to fight the fire. Probably he’d done that. Stuffing down all thoughts of Viking-climbing, she told herself, His wife is a very lucky woman.

It was odd, though. He was staring at her like he’d never seen a middle-aged, graying, sweaty, soot-stained woman before. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought he was thinking about how much he’d like to be climbed.