Hunter raised his head and rolled his shoulders. Repairing this fence was taking longer than it should. He just couldn't concentrate. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face and across his broad shoulders.
Country music blared from the boom box on the tailgate of his truck, but he didn't hear a note. His mind was stuck on the woman he'd run into in the town store.
Long brown hair knotted and secured at the top of her head with a pencil. Big brown eyes had flashed with surprise when he'd rounded the corner and ran head on into her. Hunter could still feel the imprint of her lush breasts against his chest. He couldn't believe how tiny she was. She'd barely come to his shoulder.
She'd taken one look at him and jumped back "Sssorry." She grabbed the bread he'd dropped and pressed it into his hand. She'd been out of his sight in seconds.
"Shit!" He stared at his now throbbing thumb and threw the hammer into the toolbox. Turning he surveyed his property. His favorite thing was the lake. Really, it was to small to be a lake and to large to be a pond, but it had always been Azalea Lake for as long as he could remember. There was a little cove that was split right down the center with a little beach of sand. The lake was pure sand on the bottom. He owned half of it. A man named Randy had bought the other half and the land with it last week. The first thing the idiot had done was knocking down Hunter's fence with his rusted out pickup.
Quickly he finished work and slew his tools into the box on the back of his truck. And drove to his log cabin. Hunter had designed it himself. The cabin had two floors and was absolutely gorgeous, according to his sister-in-law. The side of the house facing the cove was almost one huge window. It made heating a bitch, but it was worth it. He hated feeling closed in.
Hunter sighed as he parked the truck. Maybe he'd go for a swim to cool of. But first he had to talk to Keir. Why his grandfather had made this stupid ultimatum was beyond him. Don't use magic for a month or I'll take the ranch. Do it and I'll sign it over without a hitch, He only used the magic when an animal was hurt or he couldn't do something without it. Like last month. He'd used one simple spell to make his truck run, instead of wasting money on a mechanic. It wasn't as if he used it for every thing like his brother Tom. Tom wouldn't even get up out of the damn chair he'd sat in last month when he'd come of age and finally gained the full use of his powers.
Shaking his head he entered the kitchen pulled out the calling bowl from under the island. Taking a little satchel of powder from the shelf over the sink, he dumped what looked like blue glitter in the bowl. Immediately blue mist rose and an image of his grandfather appeared. This wasn't considered magic because it was his only form of communication with his family, who didn't believe in the use of mortal telephones.
"What do you want now? Can't make it without the magic?" His grandfather jeered at him. Keir's long white hair flowed loose around his shoulders.
"No. I was wondering if healing my animals was considered magic. Monty got snagged by some barb wire when he got loose this afternoon." Monty was an ornery old goat given to him by Marie Thompson, an old lady from town, for helping her with a flat tire last summer.
"What, to cheap to go to the vet? No. Live as a mortal. Use their vets." mischief glimmered in his pale blue eyes.
"Keir, The town just got a new vet and I'm sure she's not going to be able to handle Monty." Hunter would do anything for his animals, even though he disagreed with his grandfather, who actually owned the land. He'd go to the woman vet, and if she couldn't do anything, he'd try to bribe Tom to heal him.
"In the words of your illustrious mother "Tough." Now, I'd hurry if I were you. The mortal business day ends soon." Light flashed and the mist was gone.
Shaking his head he dumped the powder back into the satchel and put it and the calling bowl away. Strands of his long black hair had pulled free while he was working so he pulled the leather thong out and retied his hair.
Grabbing the keys to his truck and a blanket for the goat to lay on, he drove to the barn, where the animals greeted him with a chorus of various cries. Quickly Hunter got Monty out of the barn and carried him to the truck. Carefully he laid the goat down. Monty butted his head gently against his hand. Hunter's grandfather had never said anything about using his power to talk to animals, and as it was a separate gift from his magic, Hunter couldn't have stopped anyway.
"Lay here and don't move. I don't have time to hitch up the trailer and I need to take you to the vets." Smoothing his callused hand over Monty's head, he closed the tailgate.
Hunter hurried around to the front of the truck and quickly drove to the new town vet.
*
Randi Braganzi sat down heavily, wincing at the impact. The damn box wouldn't budge. All she wanted was a damn file on Boris, an old Great Dane that had had similar stomach problems to the poodle waiting in her new office. Standing up she brushed off her bottom and wished she were a good foot taller. She hated being 5' 3". She could never reach anything.
Huffing with exertion she gave in and got the stepladder from the closet in the hall. Carefully Randi positioned the ladder and began to climb. Finally eye level to the box she lifted her arms to reach for it when the bell sounded announcing the arrival of someone. Praying to god it wasn't another the "Welcome to the neighborhood…" people.
"Just a minute. I'll be right out." Giving one good tug and the box was free, Randi stepped down a step and bent to set the box on top of the stepladder, her jeans pulled tight across her bottom.
A loud wolf whistle sounded behind her. Stepping down she prepared to rip the face of the arrogant bastard, and gasped. It was the hunk from the market. Tall, way over 6 feet with dark eyes and long black hair, the guy was holding a goat.
"You! You're the new vet?" Black eyes narrowed and looked slowly from head to toe, seemingly oblivious to the weight in his well-muscled arms.
"Yes. Miranda Braganzi. Actually I go by Randi. And who's this guy?" Stepping closer she saw the tears in the poor things skin from were it had struggled against barbwire. "Oh, poor baby. Follow me."
With a bemused look, he followed her into the surgery where she had him place the goat on the table. "Did you drug him? I've never seen a wounded goat willingly lay this still."
"I don't drug my animals. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for my father." His voice was pure sex.
"Why are you talking like that? Are you going to tell me your name or are you going for the macho mystery guy appeal?" Randi slid on some plastic gloves and began examining the goat,
"My names Hunter Grey Wolf. And I'm not talking in any specific way. This little guy is Monty." He gently smoothed his hand over Monty's head again as he looked up and saw Randi worrying her lower lip sexily between her teeth as she thought.
"Well Mr. Grey Wolf, I need you to run into the waiting room and tell the woman in there I'll look at Precious in about half an hour." She saw his eyes narrow and then he nodded. Turning he quickly left the surgery.
Carefully she sent a probe to Mrs. DeFrancis. She would detain Hunter for 10 more minutes.
"Well hello Monty. That can't feel good at all. Gently Randi placed her hand over the wound and smiled. She could fix this and make it look like she had given him stitches in the areas that needed them and cleaned the rest.
"Well aren't you a lucky devil." Randi made a fist and when she opened her hand there was a little velvet bag of shimmering powder. Smiling she whispered soothing words to Monty and as she sprinkled the powder over his wounds. Light flashed in little points were her needle would have punctured his skin administering stitches. Along each of the more shallow wounds, light glimmered. Seconds passed and the lights stopped. The goat looked like a vet, without the help of magic, had healed him.
