Sun Kissed by Catherine Anderson

diet.” Tucker reached to pinch the bridge of his nose, a habit when he grew thoughtful. Luckily, he caught himself in the nick of time and rubbed his temple instead. His poor nose was sore as all get-out today. “Would you like me to come out and have a look at the animal? I might be able to fit in a short visit in the early afternoon.”
    Tucker grabbed his appointment book to make sure he had a few minutes available before he went to the fairgrounds. The two hours he’d hoped to have free for a break and some lunch were filling up fast. After arranging a time to make the field call, he dropped the phone back into its cradle and headed for examining room two.
    “You ready for some excitement?” he asked his assistant. “Daisy, the Saint Bernard, swallowed a stick, and it’s caught in her throat.”
    Marsha groaned. “Is that the dog with the inch-long fangs and the personality disorder?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “Why’d she swallow a stick today? Why not wait until tomorrow, when Noreen will be here?”
    “You don’t like Noreen?”
    Marsha grinned. “She’s uppity. Long fingernails and oh, so fancy.” She wiggled her hips and flapped her wrists. “All us gals have decided she needs to be taken down a couple of notches.”
    Tucker lowered his voice as he drew closer to the room. “Daisy’d be the dog to do it. No argument there.”
    Tucker was flashing his professional smile as he opened the door to greet the Potters and a snarling Daisy, who lunged against the leash and almost jerked her master off his feet.
    Cujo, reincarnated.
     
    “Dang, that stinks !” Jerome pressed his shirtsleeve over his nose. “Lord almighty, I’ve never in all my days smelled anything so foul.”
    Samantha was far more concerned about Tabasco, her four-year-old sorrel stallion. She’d seen many a horse with diarrhea, but never a case as severe as this. Tabasco was a gorgeous animal, and she had great hopes for him, but more important, she loved him.
    “There’s blood in the excrement,” she said as she examined the fecal spray on the wall. “Do you think he ingested some of that bad hay before you noticed all the foxtails in it and sent it back?”
    Jerome shook his head. “None of that hay ever reached the stables. I checked it the same day it was delivered and called the supplier to come get it immediately. Something sure as hell gave him diarrhea, though.”
    And a bad case, at that. The entire stall had been splattered, and Jerome was right: It had a terrible, incredibly foul odor. “I’m calling the vet. I don’t like the looks of this.”
    “Can’t say I blame you,” Jerome replied. “He’s a valuable animal, and if it’s something contagious we need to protect the other horses.”
    Samantha left the enclosure to use one of the arena phones. Seconds later she was speaking to the receptionist at the Loyal Companion Veterinary Clinic. “Doc Washburn is in Europe? But I need a vet out here today, Pam.”
    “No worries. His new partner, Darrin Black, is handling everything in his absence. Shall I send him out?”
    Samantha didn’t care to use a strange vet, but she couldn’t see that she had a choice. “Yes, please, as soon as possible. I may have a very sick horse on my hands.” She broke the connection and returned to the stall. “Washburn is in Europe on vacation for a month,” she told Jerome. “Can you believe it? He never even notified us that he’d be out of town.”
    “Maybe he let Frank know, and your dad just forgot to tell you.”
    “No. Dad doesn’t forget things like that.” Concerned about her horse, Samantha stepped over to rub Tabasco’s forehead. “Poor baby. You must feel awful.”
    “He’s mighty fidgety for a sick horse,” Jerome observed as he tossed shovelfuls of the foul-smelling hay and watery manure into the adjoining paddock for removal by tractor later. “Means he’s hurting something fierce.”
    The horse did seem fidgety, Samantha realized. He kept