McKettricks of Texas: Austin by Linda Lael Miller Page A

grinned, in decades, and he didn’t break his record now. “Antibiotics, a mild sedative and a painkiller.”
    Austin nodded, scratching lightly behind Molly’s ears and speaking to her in a soothing tone while Doc administered the shots, one right after the other.
    The mare flinched, but that must have been all the resistance she had in her, because she lapsed into a noisy sleep right away.
    Doc used some hand sanitizer from a bottle in his bag and began pulling away the half-rotted remains of Molly’s halter. Now and then, some hair and hide came away with it, and there were places where scabs had grown right over the strips of nylon.
    Austin felt sick to his stomach.
    â€œThere are sterile wipes in my bag,” Doc told him quietly in a tone that indicated both understanding and stern competence. “Disinfect your hands, boy, then start cleaning the wounds as I uncover them. We’ll apply some ointment after that, and hope to God an infection doesn’t set in.”
    Austin did as he was told, working quickly.
    Maybe forty-five minutes had gone by when they’dfinished. Molly came to right away, shook off the sedative and even scrambled to her feet.
    Doc finished cleaning her up and dabbed on more ointment.
    â€œShe’s a good strong girl, then,” the old man proclaimed, patting Molly’s flank. “What she needs now is some supper and some rest and a whole lot of TLC.”
    Austin fetched an armload of grass hay and dropped it into Molly’s feeder, then made sure the automatic waterer in her stall was working. Doc tarried long enough to watch her eat for a few moments, then picked up his bag and left the stall.
    Austin shut and latched Molly’s door.
    The other horses snorted and nickered, calling for room service.
    â€œThanks,” Austin told Doc.
    Doc merely nodded. He wasn’t much for idle conversation.
    While Austin fed the rest of the critters, Doc washed up at the sink in the tack room. Austin finished the chow chores pretty fast and washed up, too.
    For some reason, Doc lingered in the tack room, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt, carefully buttoning the cuffs.
    He and Austin left the barn at the same time, while Tate and Garrett came out of the main house by way of the kitchen door. Clifton was with them.
    Austin looked for Paige, but there was no sign of her.
    Probably for the best, he thought.
    But he wasn’t quite convinced.
    Libby hooked her arm through his and smiled up at him. “Paige went to town to fetch Calvin,” she said.
    Austin chuckled, shook his head. He liked Libby, liked Julie, too—they were the sisters he’d never had. Paige was harder to categorize.
    â€œDid I ask where Paige got to?” he challenged, grinning a little.
    Libby just made a face at him, then walked over to speak to Tate.
    Doc and Clifton said their goodbyes, got into Doc’s old truck and drove off at a good clip, stirring up a dry swirl of dust behind them. Libby stood on tiptoe to kiss Tate’s cheek, then she got into the red Corvette and made for the main road.
    That left Tate, Garrett and Austin standing in a loose circle in front of the barn, strangely quiet now that the crowd had thinned out a little.
    Tate rubbed the back of his neck, looked as though he might be nursing a tension headache.
    â€œHow long’s it been since Clifton Pomeroy paid his ole daddy a visit?” Garrett mused, his gaze following the departing rigs.
    â€œLong time,” Tate remarked. He seemed distracted.
    Austin wondered if his oldest brother had more on his mind than the sick horse he and Garrett had rescued at Libby’s request.
    Just two months before, they’d had some trouble with rustlers, and one of the thieves turned out to be Charlie Bates, a longtime employee on the Silver Spur. Charlie and a few other crooks were in jail now, unable to make bail, but nobody figured the bad guys were all in custody. Charlie didn’t have