“Some days I really dislike this job.” He set his bag on the counter, looking tired. “How did you get on? Any emergencies?”

Robin told him about a couple of the calls she’d taken. “Nothing urgent,” she concluded. “I told them Erline would get back to them. Do you know when she’ll be in?”

“Tomorrow, I hope. Thanks for covering.”

“It doesn’t sound like things went well at the Winchesters’ spread,” she asked, prompted by both professional interest and personal curiosity. She’d mentally reviewed her brief encounter with the sheriff several times, wondering if her abrupt dash into the clinic had made her seem unfriendly, and then telling herself it didn’t matter what he thought as long as it didn’t affect her professionally.

The vet picked up his messages, but she had the impression that he wasn’t really looking at them. “Half a dozen dead cattle at the biggest ranch in these parts,” he said finally. “One of the hands found them this morning.”

Robin could understand his reaction. This was cattle country. A contagious disease could endanger an entire herd if it wasn’t treated in time. No wonder he looked worried. “Were you able to make a diagnosis?” she asked.

He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “It looks like someone tainted their feed with rodent poison. The sheriff is looking into it.”

“The sheriff?” Robin echoed.

Doc Harmon nodded. “Cattle will eat damn near anything. Ranchers don’t leave poison around for them to get into.”

“So it was deliberate?” Robin asked. “Why would anyone do that?”

He shrugged. “Everyone has enemies.”

“Is there some kind of range war going on around here?” she probed.

His smile was fleeting. “This isn’t the Old West, my girl, but bad things still happen. Could be an unhappy ex-employee or an envious neighbor. Those boys have worked hard, and they’ve done well. I even heard a rumor that they’d had an offer for their land.”

He glanced around the office. “Did you get a chance to explore?”

Robin would have liked to ask more about the Winchesters, but she didn’t want to push. “A little.” She clasped her hands together and took a deep breath. “I know you expected me to get here yesterday, but I had car trouble. I should have let you know.” Before she could add anything more, anxiety closed around her throat like a noose, choking off her voice.

All Doc Harmon did was shrug again. “I was out most of the day and we’ve been having trouble with the answering machine, anyway. It’s nice you were here to get the phone today, though, so no one started thinking I’d died or retired.”

He glanced out the window as she nearly went limp with relief. “Car running okay now? You’ll need something reliable, you know.”

Her gaze followed his to where the sorry little coupe sat baking in the sun. “Oh, yes, it’s fine,” she assured him. “I guess I just expected too much, towing a trailer full of all my worldly goods.”

The doc glanced at the messages again and then he set them on the counter. “Speaking of which, I rented you a little house at the edge of town. If the bar down the street from it is too noisy, you can look for something else, but there’s not much of a choice right in town.”

Especially in my price range, she added silently. “I’m sure it will be fine. Thank you for going to the trouble.” She was trying to figure out how she could possibly ask for an advance when he pulled open a drawer in the battered desk.

“No trouble. Figured you might need to get a few things.” He thrust a check at her.

Robin stared speechlessly at the amount. She’d been on her own for so long, counting on no one but herself, that she was blindsided by his gesture. She ducked her head, her eyes filling with tears that she barely managed to blink away before they ran down her cheeks. She had to be more tired than she’d realized to get so emotional.

“Thank you.” She looked up. “I can use this.”

The crusty expression relaxed for a moment. “You’ll earn it,” he said gruffly. “I’m an ogre to work for. Ask anyone.”

Somehow she doubted that very much. For one of the few times she could remember since her aunt had died, the hard knot of tension in Robin’s chest eased up. When she’d been sending out r'esum'es, she’d almost decided not to answer his ad, figuring an old geezer in a small town surrounded by cattle ranches would never consider hiring a woman as his assistant. “You don’t scare me,” she replied somberly.

“We’ll see about that.” Chuckling, he glanced at the plain round wall clock above the door. “I can manage for now. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon to get settled? Open a bank account, get some groceries. I’ve got the key to your place here somewhere.” He fished around in the drawer while Robin folded the check he’d given her and tucked it into her pocket.

“Are you sure? I can stay, if you need me.”

He handed her a brass key. “The lights and water are hooked up, and I had your phone connected.”