“No, it’s mine. I mean, it is now. I just took over my aunt Cora’s farmette, and the pig was hers, so I guess it is mine now.” She glanced around the empty waiting room, and even with her thin brows pushed together, she still looked like she was happy. She placed her hand softly on Ross’s forearm.
Ross had always kept a professional distance between his clients and his personal life. It had been easy to maintain that aura of professionalism, as he only dated women from outside his hometown. He looked down at her hand on his arm and the side of his mouth quirked up, despite his best efforts to remain unaffected. Suddenly, his easy day just got complicated.
“Cora Aslin, as in Cora from Trusty Pies?” Cora owned a farmette on the other side of Ross’s property, and she’d run a pie-making business from her home before passing away unexpectedly a few weeks earlier. She lived on the property adjacent to Ross’s. The two properties were separated by a willowy forest. Ross knew her well, and she’d spoken of her niece often. There were no secrets in Trusty, where gossip spread faster than the wind could pick up a whisper. Word around town was that Cora’s sister had raised her niece to be a stuck-up California girl. Well, she certainly looked like a Cali girl.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “Cora was a lovely person.”
“Yes. I loved her very much, and I miss her.” She looked around the waiting room. “I’ve cleared you out. I’m sorry. I’ll just go wait in…” She pointed her thumb down the hallway. “Room four?”
“Yes, four.” He held out a hand. “Ross Braden, by the way.”
“Elisabeth Nash, sorry.” She placed her hand in his and squeezed lightly. It was the same way Cora used to greet him, and he felt a jolt of sadness at the reminder.
“Elizabeth,” he repeated.
“E—liss—abeth.”
Ross arched a brow. “Right. Sorry. Elisabeth.” Maybe the rumors had her pegged correctly after all.
ELISABETH WAS SITTING on the floor of the exam room singing to the piglet, who had finally calmed down, when Dr. Braden came in. Dr. Hot and Sexy Ross Braden, able to handle chaos without so much as a flinch. He looked down at her with inquisitive raven-dark eyes and ran his hand through his thick dark hair, giving her a quick glance at his sexy widow’s peak before his hair tumbled back down over his forehead. He crouched beside her, and the room got about fifty degrees hotter.
“Singing to a piglet, that’s a new tactic. Usually people hum to them. That’s what mother pigs do to calm their babies.”
“I wondered why he liked it so much,” she whispered. “He fell asleep.” She reached for the end of her hair and twisted it, then caught herself and dropped her hand. Growing up with a mother who relied on her looks for everything, Elisabeth had worked hard never to follow that same awful path, but sometimes the nervous habit returned.
For a minute, Ross simply stared at her; then his eyes traveled down her legs to the piglet by her feet. She felt naked beneath his slow gaze.
“Exhausted himself. When was he born?” he asked. His deep voice brushed over her skin like a caress, regardless of the matter-of-fact way he’d asked.
She was surprised at the way her body was reacting to him, warming to his voice, his gaze. She was used to handsome men. In Los Angeles even the garbagemen looked like models, but Ross was effortlessly handsome, with his thick dark brows that angled slightly inward, eyelashes so thick and long they gave his eyes a seductive quality, and scruff. Why the hell did he have to have scruff? Scruff amped up a man’s sexy quotient by about a zillion degrees. In Elisabeth’s experience, the guys who didn’t have to work at looking good were the most egotistical, least caring men of all—and the hardest to resist. Not that she had a lot of experience. Much to her mother’s chagrin—You’re too picky—her social calendar had been full of more dogs and cats than men.
“Two weeks ago, maybe two and a half. I’m sorry. Is there a pig doctor around that I should have taken him to? I looked through Aunt Cora’s phone book, and under vet there was just your first name and address: Ross, 15 Staynor Way. You’re practically right next door, so I jumped in my car and brought him over.”
“How did you get him to stay still long enough to bring him over?” Ross pushed his hand gently beneath the sleeping piglet and captured it in one strong hand, then rose with it pressed against his body. It awoke and squealed and squirmed. Ross tucked it beneath his arm like a football and moved to the counter.
“I sat in the backseat for about fifteen minutes in your parking lot, just kind of talking to him, until he calmed down enough to grab him and race inside.”
“Is he eating?” Ross didn’t look at Elisabeth. He was focused on the piglet, feeling its body, its legs, while it squirmed and fought his every touch.
“Not much, and he’s so much smaller than the other piglets. I just got scared when he wouldn’t stop screaming, or squealing, or whatever you call it.” She wasn’t sure if it was the seriousness of Ross’s gaze on the piglet, or the perfect bow of his lips, or maybe the way his dress shirt hugged his biceps, but something was making her babble like an idiot, and what made it worse was that she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. I’m a staring, babbling idiot.
A knock at the door startled her out of her Ross-induced trance.
“Come in, Kelsey,” he said without looking at the door.
The receptionist came into the room and closed the door behind her. “I thought you could use some help.”
Elisabeth watched the two move in tandem, like they’d been working together forever as Ross took the piglet’s temperature and weighed it, which was a feat in and of itself. Elisabeth wondered if they were dating, although Kelsey looked very young and Ross looked to be in his midthirties, which would also not be out of the question by LA standards. Then again, nothing was out of the question by LA standards, which was one of the reasons she’d been overjoyed to come back to Trusty, a town she’d visited only as a child. Trusty had left such a strong impression of wholesomeness and peaceful living in her young mind that she’d built her hopes and dreams around one day returning.
Kelsey slipped out the back door of the exam room and returned a few minutes later with a baby bottle. She handed it to Ross and smiled at Elisabeth.
“I’ll get your paperwork together so you can complete it at home. You can drop it by this week sometime.” Kelsey turned back to Ross. “Mrs. Mace called and canceled. Something about her husband not feeling well.”
Ross nodded as he secured his hand beneath the piglet, with his palm against the squirming baby’s chest, and plugged its mouth with the bottle. The side of his mouth quirked up, softening his serious demeanor.
“Thanks, Kelsey. I hope he’s okay.”
Alone in the exam room again, Ross leaned his butt against the counter and finally looked at Elisabeth. He didn’t say anything at first, just lifted the side of his mouth again in a semi grin that made her insides warm.
“He’s the runt, I take it?” The piglet snarfed and grunted as it sucked the bottle. Ross’s sleeves were folded up just above his elbow. The muscles in his forearm flexed against the piglet’s efforts. He was somehow gentle yet firm with the piglet, and it drew Elisabeth to her feet and closer to him.
“Yes. He’s much littler. His name is Kennedy.”
That earned her a genuine, full-on smile. “Kennedy?”
“Yeah. I think he’s strong even though he’s little, kind of like Jackie O, but he’s a boy, so I can’t call him Jackie. I mean, I guess I could, but…” She shrugged and smiled. “I guess I just liked Kennedy.”
“It’s a fine name. Well, Kennedy needs nourishment. He’s squealing because he’s not getting enough. This”—he nodded at the bottle—“is goat’s milk. Piglets have trouble digesting cow’s milk. They need the immunity protection from the mother’s milk, but when they can’t get enough, supplement with goat’s milk or a goat replacement formula.”
Goat replacement formula? There is such a thing? “Okay. Where do I get it?”
“They sell it at the feed store right in town, or if you want it straight from the farm, Wynchels’, on the other side of town, sells it.” He looked up and their eyes caught.
Elisabeth’s pulse quickened, and as if Ross could sense the change, he smiled.
“How’s the rest of the litter?”
“Good, I think.” She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I can bring them in for you to give them a once-over.” She texted a note to herself to buy goat’s milk.
He took the bottle from the piglet’s mouth and set it down. “You don’t have to bring them in. I’ll come by and check them out. Is there a day or time that works for you?”
Elisabeth wondered if he made house calls for everyone, or if he felt the air heat up every time their eyes connected, too, and would make a special trip just to see her.
“A house call?”
“Sure. With farm animals, it’s easier for everyone and less stressful for the animals.”