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 résumés, 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.”

“What do I owe you?” she asked. “Didn’t you have to pay deposits on the utilities?”

This time his laugh was more of a cackle. “This ain’t Chicago, Doctor. All I did was to tell them you were coming to work for me. And this way, people can start calling you in the middle of the night ’stead of me when their prize stud gets a sliver in his arse.”

She wondered how long it would be before anyone around here actually did request her services, rather than merely tolerate her whenever the “real” vet was otherwise occupied. “Can you give me directions to my house?” she asked after she’d thanked him again.

The words my house danced on Robin’s tongue. Since moving out of Aunt Dot’s, she’d lived in college dorms and rundown apartments with an assortment of roommates to keep the rent low, but she’d never had a place to really call her own. She was determined to make this a real home, despite it being another rental and no matter what the condition.

“I’ll draw you a map.” He grabbed a scratch pad. “It’s not hard to find. Nothing in this town is, but you’ll get lost a few times heading out on calls, so you’ll need this, too.” He handed her a cell phone. “You pay for your personal calls.”

She swallowed. “I don’t have anyone to call.”

His eyes narrowed. “No family?”

“My aunt died while I was in college.” She braced herself for more questions, but he didn’t ask them. Despite all the help he’d given her, she was an employee and that was all, she reminded herself. Her life story wouldn’t interest him.

Except for that one time at veterinary school, which she made a point never to think about, her life was pretty darned boring. Just the way she liked it.

He drew three intersecting lines on the paper and made two X’s. “You’re here,” he said, pointing an one X with the pencil. “Go five blocks to Aspen and take a right. Turn left on the next street, Nugget, and look for a little house painted yellow, number 505. Can’t miss it.”

Robin started to thank him again. “Dr. Harmon—”

“Call me that, people will get me mixed up with the medic, Dr. Nash. I’m just plain old Doc.” He cocked his head to the side, considering. “Don’t suppose I can call you Birdy. Kind of a clever nickname, don’t you think?”

“No,” she replied firmly. “No way.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t think so. Okay, you scat, before something comes up. See you in the morning, at eight sharp. You got my number if you need anything before then.”

Robin hesitated, but the phone rang and he reached for it. She waited to see if he’d want her to stay, after all, but he waved her off before turning his back.

She didn’t need to be told twice, so she hurried out the door before he could change his mind. To her relief, her car started right away. As she drove down the street, following his crude map, she tried not to get her hopes up about the house. It was probably a dump.

When she passed the sheriff’s office, she kept her head turned straight, not wanting to be caught looking for him. He wasn’t for her, she reminded herself. No man was.

“Hi, sweetheart. How ’bout bringing me a steak sandwich and a longneck?” Charlie gave the waitress a quick smile as he settled himself onto a bar stool.

“Sure, boss. As long as you’re off duty,” she replied in a throaty voice. “I wouldn’t want to break the law.”

He patted his shirt pocket. “I’m not wearing my badge, Rita. You won’t get in any trouble.” With her black hair and dark, liquid eyes, Rita was an attractive woman—especially when she sucked in her breath so her generous curves strained against the fabric of her low-cut knit top as she was doing now.

If he didn’t have a rule against dating his employees, Charlie might have taken a run at her. When he pursued a woman, he didn’t want to wonder if she was genuinely attracted to him or just worried about keeping her job, especially a single mother like Rita.

“Fries with that or salad?” she asked, tossing back her hair to give him an enticing view of her throat.

He grinned his appreciation of her assets. “How about both, with ranch on the side?”

“Sure thing. Be right back.”

After she’d gotten his beer, sent him a last regretful glance from beneath a fringe of thick lashes and swaggered off to give his sandwich order to the cook, Charlie glanced around the room. There were people sitting at three tables and two men in hard hats at the other end of the bar watching soccer on the overhead television. Not bad for a weekday, especially this early in the evening.

“You singing tonight, Sheriff?” called out an older woman seated with her husband.

“’Fraid not, Maxine.” He touched two fingers to the brim of his Stetson. “My second job’s keeping me hopping, but I’ll be here on Friday. Maybe you can get Fred to bring you back then.”

She looked over her shoulder at her husband. “That’s my birthday. We’ll be here.”

Charlie toasted her with his beer bottle. “And I’ll be singing just for you, darlin’.”

She laughed, but her cheeks turned pink. “I’ll hold you to it.” Her husband leaned forward to whisper in her ear, and Charlie swiveled back around as Rita brought his salad. From ranching to the restaurant business and part-time lounge singer to law enforcement. Life was a hell of a ride.

“How are the boys?” he asked Rita.

She set down his silverware and dish of ranch dressing. “They’re crazy about the toy trucks you gave them. Thanks, honey.”

“No problem.” He knew her ex rarely sent money, and his nephews had more toys than they could ever use. When he’d mentioned the waitress to Rory and Emily, his brothers’ wives, their youngest kids had gone through their toy chests.