Rebecca had mentioned something about a place where Katie could live. But nothing had been resolved in that area, so he said, “First things first,” and simply hoped Rebecca would come through.
As Booker drove, he let his mind wander to another troubling subject. Rebecca had asked him earlier what doctor Katie was planning to see. He’d told her it was none of his concern, but she knew as well as he did that wasn’t entirely true. Katie didn’t have any money and she hadn’t been working recently, which meant she probably didn’t have medical insurance. So how was she going to pay for the care she needed?
“Rebecca told me you should find a doctor right away,” he said as they came into town. “Do you have any idea who you’re going to see?”
Katie shrugged and kept her face averted.
“You don’t know?” he pressed.
“Maybe Dr. Hatcher.” Her voice sounded noncommittal.
Booker couldn’t help the frown that tugged at his lips. Hatcher? He definitely didn’t want her seeing Hatcher. Just after Katie left town, the Pruitts filed a malpractice suit against Hatcher for misdiagnosing a serious disease and prescribing the wrong medicine for their six-year-old. Granted, that illness might have had little to do with delivering babies, and the charges were eventually dropped, but Booker knew Hatcher had problems. “From what I hear, he’s a drunk,” he said.
“Well, unless another doctor’s moved to town, there isn’t anyone else close by. And I can’t drive all the way to Boise. My car’s too old to keep making that trip.”
Booker had to agree with her there. He’d had Chase put a lot of time into that car, and he still didn’t trust it. The parts he hadn’t replaced were old, and he didn’t think the car had ever been properly maintained.
“Maybe someone from Hair and Now can give you a ride when you have an appointment, or let you borrow a car,” he suggested. Hell, he’d be willing to let her take Hatty’s car. He had his truck and his Harley. Except he was working on getting out of Katie’s life….
“Hatcher can’t be that bad,” she said. “He delivered me. And I think he might let me make payments.”
She was already having trouble with the pregnancy. Booker couldn’t see her taking the risk. But what Katie did or didn’t do wasn’t any of his business.
Even though it was difficult, Booker purposely clamped his mouth shut and pulled into Saba’s Western Wear, the only clothing and boot outlet in town.
SITTING ACROSS MIKE’S wide and rather cluttered desk, surrounded by expensive wood paneling and framed pictures of horses with ribbons on almost every wall, Katie sat rigidly in her stiff, new boots while she waited for him to end the phone call that had interrupted them shortly after she sat down.
“…We have two of the best stallions in the country right here…. Yes, I’ve heard that…. Well, sir, you get what you pay for…. We have quite a few mares coming in that week already, so you might want to let us know as soon as possible…. Sure, no problem.”
Hanging up, he smiled at her. “Where were we?”
“We were, um…talking about my hours,” she said, scrambling to recall where they’d left off. She’d become a little distracted watching Mike and remembering all the times she’d followed him around when she was just a girl, spying on him with her friends. She could see that he’d aged a bit while she was gone. The lines bracketing his eyes and mouth were more pronounced, but they did nothing to detract from the chiseled planes and angles of his face.
“Right, hours,” he said. “You could do a normal work-day from, say, eight to four. Or you could come in a little later, if you’d like.”
Katie didn’t dare tell him she had trouble getting out of bed regardless of the time. She hoped that wouldn’t last. And he was being so flexible! She’d already told him she didn’t know anything about any of the computer programs he’d named, and he’d said it didn’t matter. He was happy just to have her back up the girl who was already answering the phones and doing the filing. At fifteen dollars an hour, she wouldn’t be making nearly as much as when she did hair, especially when she’d worked in San Francisco. But in Dundee, she could definitely get by on a salary like that.
She could even raise a child.
Feeling the fear that had spread through her recede just a bit, she smiled more freely. A job would make such a difference. It might not fix everything all at once, but it would enable her to rebuild her life, halt her downward spiral.
Katie knew she’d work any hours Mike required, but as long as he was giving her a choice, she wanted to pick the schedule that would help her be the most dependable. “I think nine to five might be best. That way I’d have some extra time in the mornings, in case there’s snow on the road. I’m not sure exactly where I’ll be living yet, but the ranch is a bit of a drive from town. Not that I mind driving—”
“Rebecca didn’t tell you?” he interrupted.
“Rebecca?” Katie echoed.
“She’s reserved one of the cabins for you to live in. You won’t have to drive anywhere.”
“What cabins?”
“The cabins we built out back a year ago. They’re primarily for the cowboys we hire during breeding season, but—”
“Isn’t breeding season coming up?”
“It is.” He shuffled a few papers around on his desk. “But I’m sure we can make do.”
Make do? Not many employers tried so hard to accommodate a new hire, at least not one coming in at entry level. “How much is the rent?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about the rent. It’s part of your salary.”
“You’re going to pay me fifteen dollars an hour and provide a place for me to live? And all I have to do is back up the person you’ve got filing and answering phones, and do it according to whatever schedule is best for me?”
He hesitated as though unsure of the edge in her voice. “That’s the plan, I guess. For the next few months, anyway.”
“Until I have the baby.”
He showed no surprise when she mentioned the baby, confirming the fact that he already knew. “You’ll probably want to go back to doing hair after that, right?”
She could tell he was hoping her answer would be yes, providing further proof that she wouldn’t be fulfilling any real need on his end.