The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

worth knowing. Nor was he worth wasting time thinking about.
    Besides, she would much rather concentrate on the fact that she was finally free. After working her tail off in school, she’d earned her degree, and she fully intended to enjoy every minute of the first vacation she’d had in years. Then, when she returned to Crawley, she’d be relaxed and ready to jump into her career with both feet.
    A mixture of satisfaction and excitement coursed through her. By the end of spring, she’d realize the dream she’d had since she was twelve years old—she’d be practicing veterinary medicine in her own largeanimal clinic.
    Strolling down a path leading away from the carriage house, her mouth turned up in a smile when shespotted the stables not far from the small lake. Without missing a step, she headed straight for them. Painted white, with hunter green shutters, the building looked like a horse lover’s paradise, and she couldn’t wait to go inside.
    The double doors on either end of the structure were open, allowing fresh air to flow through, and Abby didn’t think twice about entering the shadowy interior. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lower light, but when they did, her breath caught. The stable was everything she’d thought it would be. And more.
    The bottom halves of the stalls were constructed of tongue-and-groove spruce boards, while the top halves had black grille front bars for maximum ventilation. Wide, split doors gave easy access to the enclosures and allowed the horses inside to appease their curiosity by hanging their heads over them when the top halves were swung back.
    A beautiful blue roan gelding poked its head over the stall door as Abby walked by, and she stopped to rub the gentle animal’s soft muzzle. As she scratched his broad forehead, she noticed that the inside walls of the stall were covered with a metal that resembled stainless steel and could easily be hosed down and disinfected. As a veterinarian and horse enthusiast, she was very impressed, and she highly approved of the Sheppards’ choices for the welfare of their animals.
    But as she stood there wishing she had the same setup at the farm in Nebraska, sudden movement at the far end of the stable caught her attention. As she watched, a man, wearing a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, chambray shirt and jeans, opened one of the stall doors to go inside. She couldn’t help but think that he’d look more at home in a barn in Nebraska than in a stable in California wine country.
    But her smile quickly faded and she forgot all about how out of place he looked when he led a beautiful dapple gray mare from the stall. The horse was limping badly, and it was obvious she had something wrong with her left hind leg.
    “What seems to be the problem?” Abby asked, hurrying toward them.
    Without looking her way, the man bent over to examine the mare. “I don’t know how she did it, but Marsanne has managed to cut her fetlock.”
    “I’ll take a look. I might be able to do something for her.”
    Shaking his head, he straightened to his full height. “I think we’d better leave it alone and let the vet take care of this one.”
    Abby caught her breath and her pulse skipped several beats when he turned to face her. The man standing on the other side of the mare wasn’t just good-looking, he was heart-hammering gorgeous. With straight, darkblondhair slipping from beneath his black Resistol to hang low on his forehead, a fashionable beard stubble covering his lean cheeks and startling blue eyes, he was without a doubt the best-looking cowboy she’d ever laid eyes on. Bar none.
    When she realized that she must be staring at him like a schoolgirl with her first crush, she shook off her uncharacteristic reaction and walked around the horse to take a look at the injury. “Get the first-aid kit.” Bending down beside the horse’s hindquarters, she quickly assessed the wound. “The cut isn’t as deep as it looks. It hasn’t severed any of the ligaments or tendons, and won’t need suturing.” When she straightened, she glanced around the floor. There was a good drainage system, and it wouldn’t be necessary to walk the horse outside to treat her. “Could you bring the hose over here? We’ll need to cold rinse the wound to reduce the swelling before I apply a dressing.”
    “Now hold it right there, lady. You’re not doing anything to this horse.” Clearly annoyed, he walked around the mare to place his hands on Abby’s