Chapter 1
Cori Jackson
Note to self: never check your email when you’re in a hurry to get out the door.
I’d been stupid enough to do just that, despite knowing I had an entire family hell-bent on making me miserable. I had thought our phone conversation last night—same old song and dance about what a disappointment I was, cha-cha-cha—had covered it all.
I was so wrong.
And they’d sent it in an email.
Now I was late, and my line of work didn’t wait for when things were convenient—or when your family wasn’t threatening to disown you.
I heard the cow in labor as soon as I got out of my truck. She was already in the thick of it. I ran to the barn. Jerry Rushdan, owner of the ranch and the lady in labor, was looking in on her, anxious.
This calf was big and he was concerned, as he should be. But I had faith that nature would take its course, and if anything went wrong, then I would be here to help.
My problem was that I was going to have to get the anger and the frustration in my head under control long enough to actually focus.
My family was a real piece of work, dropping this on me. In an email.
“Hey, Jerry.”
He smiled. “Hi, Cori. You all right?”
“Sure. And she’ll be okay too. Don’t worry.”
His face already told me that he was still going to.
Jerry was one of my favorite clients. He cared about every one of his animals as if they were family. That made it difficult when things went wrong or animals got sick, but it was also nice to see. Sometimes in industries like ranching, animals were treated a little more expendably than I was comfortable with. But for the most part, I considered myself lucky to be here and to have the practice that I did.
If only my family felt the same.
Jacksons were surgeons. That was just the way it was. Everyone in my family was a surgeon. Grandparents, parents, siblings, spouses. The whole medical field knew my family, and the name was synonymous with talent and prestige. I did appreciate that.
But I didn’t want it.
I’d never exactly been a model child, and I’d known from an early age that I didn’t want to be a surgeon. But that was the expectation. It was what we did.
After all, Jacksons didn’t defy the family legacy.
That was basically what my parents told me this morning in an email that sounded as though they’d run all the language through their lawyer. At first, it had been nice enough, even sympathetic. They understood getting my veterinary license had been a passion of mine, but now, it was time to come home.
Translation: We’re done letting you sow your wild oats. Time to become a surgeon. You’re a Jackson.
Fine. They’d said it to me before, and it was easy enough to dismiss. But that was before the ultimatum.
Apparently, as the heads of the Jackson surgery dynasty, they were getting pressure and questions about why their youngest daughter hadn’t joined the family business. Prominent members of the medical community were asking about me and when they’d get the chance to observe my skills.
It was flattering, and if any of them wanted to make the trip out to Garnet Bend to see me surgically remove a blockage from a cow’s intestine, I wouldn’t say no.
But their eagerness to mentor a Jackson meant nothing to me. I didn’t have any interest in the complications or politics that came along with working on people. Or being in the hospital environment, where I knew from years spent in my family that gossip, rumors, and cliques ruled the day.
Animals were simpler. They told you where they hurt, and then you fixed it. And though most people wouldn’t love that I thought this, the appreciation that an animal gave you after you helped them was far more gratifying than anything a human could say to me.
“How long has she been in labor?”
“Not sure,” Jerry said. “She wasn’t last night, and when we woke up this morning, it looked like it was starting. Went out to the fields for a bit, and when I came back, she sounded like that.”
I knelt next to the cow. Her name was Mel, and Jerry wasn’t wrong. She was in some distress. Not to the point where I needed to intervene, but it was good that I was here. “I’m glad you called me.”
Cattle births weren’t uncommon, and Jerry alone had probably seen hundreds. Even with his soft spot for his animals, he knew what sounded right and what didn’t.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a smile on your face.”
I couldn’t manage to summon that smile right now. “I’m fine, thank you. Just some family stuff.”
“Ain’t that a bitch?” he asked with a snorted laugh. “Well, I hope you get that sorted out. There’s nothing that can get under your skin like family.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
Jerry laughed. “You need me to stay out here?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you, though. I’ll call you if I need something.”
“Gonna be heading back out to work on one of the fences, but I’ve got my phone on me.”
One more thing that I appreciated about Jerry. He didn’t hover. Some days, I was in the mood for company. Today? Not so much.
I had a lot of thinking to do.
My family…wasn’t poor.
I nearly snorted like Jerry. That was an understatement. An entire family of surgeons? Yeah. They were loaded. I was a trust fund baby. It wasn’t something I advertised, but I couldn’t do anything about where I came from.
That was the point of the email. I was supposed to receive that trust when I turned thirty in a few weeks. But they’d changed the terms of my trust. Receiving it at all was now contingent on my getting accepted to and actually graduating from medical school. Human medical school. After all, I was a Jackson, and I already had a medical degree. I could have my pick of any school in the country.
I tried to throw water on the anger that came racing to the surface. How was it that they didn’t see the hypocrisy? I already had a medical degree. But that wasn’t good enough for them.
Nothing ever was.
Mel let out a long cry and I stroked her head, providing comfort the best way I could. She wasn’t far enough along yet. But she would be soon. Until then, I was stuck with myself and my thoughts about my ridiculous family.
Maybe I should have made Jerry stay so he could distract me from it.
It wasn’t really about the money. I didn’t feel as if I’d earned it or deserved it in any way. But being a small-town vet wasn’t exactly lucrative. I’d been making ends meet for a long time, and I would continue to do so. But I’d been looking forward to the trust as a buffer. It was enough to keep both me and the clinic in the black for years without even counting my current salary.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. That brought a small smile to my face, at least. It was Joel, my boyfriend. “Hello?”
Mel chose that exact moment to let out a brutal sound of labor, and it almost made me laugh.
“Jesus, that’s some kind of greeting,” he said.
“Sorry. Cow in labor.”
I could practically see him rolling his eyes. “You sure? That’s not really what it sounds like.”
“Yes,” I said with a sigh. “I’m very sure.”
“Because—”
“Because it sounds like animal sex? I can send you the video of the calf’s feet coming out if that’s something you’d like.”
I heard the sound of fake vomiting on the other end of the line. “No, thank you.”
For a rancher’s son, Joel had a pretty weak stomach. But that was all right; I had one that was strong enough for the both of us, and he had other things that I liked about him.
Although, sometimes I was hard-pressed to remember that. “You still coming over tonight?”
“Was planning on it. What are we eating?”
“Could you pick something up?”
Joel made a noncommittal sound. “I would, but I’m not coming from a direction that actually has any food on the way. Can’t you just cook something?”
I sighed and did my best to tamp down my frustration. It was just a reaction in response to my parents’ letter and nothing more. Joel worked hard, and I knew he was driving a long way to be with me tonight. The least I could do was cook him dinner.
The store was on the way home. I could stop and pick up the ingredients for something simple. “Sure.”
“Thanks, babe.”
I gritted my teeth at the endearment. I’d asked him not to call me that, but he’d thought I’d been kidding. I didn’t want to fight about it.
Mel lowed again, and I saw the movements I was looking for—she was getting close. Time to get my gloves on and get ready to help her.
“Think I could make you sound like that tonight?” Joel asked.
“Jeez, Joel.”