Her hand connected with his cheek before she realized she was going to slap him. She stepped back, horrified that she’d done such a thing. But her work was so important to her, and he’d implied she didn’t really care about it.
A red mark branded his cheek, but he didn’t act as if he’d felt a thing. “You’re a good vet,” he said. “I’ll give you that. But you’re no longer my vet.”
“Fletch, don’t do this. I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how. Everything happened so fast.”
“I knew you for six months before that everything took place. You could have given me a hint, some little sign, so that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself worrying about whether your business stayed in the black.”
“I don’t like to advertise it, and I made a point of not telling anyone in my practice. You were no different.”
He flinched for the first time. “Apparently not. Except that I’m good in bed, so that came in handy.”
“Stop! It’s not only sex between us! Don’t say these awful things. We’ve shared so much!”
“I thought so, too, but where was it going, Astrid? I’m not in your league, and you knew that from the start. You could have told me so. All I can figure is you wanted to satisfy your curiosity and scratch that itch.”
“No! That’s not fair. I told you I’d decided not to go to bed with you. You were the one convinced it would happen.”
“Yeah.” He sounded more weary than angry now. “But I was operating on false information. The thing is, I knew something wasn’t right, and I ignored the warning signals. My bad. It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
“Don’t say that. I was going to call you tonight and set up a meeting for tomorrow. I was going to tell you then.”
“So you could give me the brush-off? Hey, I’ve saved you the trouble.”
“You’re furious with me, and I understand that, but I wanted to tell you. Like I said, I couldn’t figure out how.”
He gazed at her, his expression blank. “Now I know.”
“How did you find out?”
“Not that it matters, but I went to the yard to see your truck. I thought it might help if I—well, never mind that. The guy at the yard told me about your dad’s Lamborghini. After that, the puzzle pieces fell into place.”
“You went to see my truck?” She’d never dreamed he would do such a thing.
“Crazy, isn’t it? I had some idea that seeing the damage would help me to comfort you. I thought you’d be upset. Stupid of me, but I wasn’t in the know.”
“I was upset.”
“Why? You can replace it without batting an eye.”
She stared at him, and her own anger rose to meet his. “You’re like everyone else, assuming that just because someone has the money to replace things, they don’t care if they’re destroyed. You’re spouting the same clichés I’ve heard all my life. Well, screw you.”
“I think you already did.”
“That’s crude.”
“I feel crude at the moment. So sue me. But you won’t get much. As you know, I don’t have a lot of ready cash.”
“Okay, then! Be a jackass and let this money thing come between us! I thought maybe you’d be different, but you’re not.”
“Nope.” He unfolded his arms and pushed away from the fender. “I’m just your average guy.” He walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door.
“You’re not average! You saved my life!”
“I would have done that for anyone.” Closing the door, he started the engine, backed the truck out, and drove away.
She stood in the parking area, her arms wrapped tight around her body. Her chest hurt so much that she had trouble breathing. Apparently this was what heartbreak felt like. She’d always laughed when people said money couldn’t buy happiness. It had been her friend for a long time. But it wasn’t her friend now.
***
Fletch spent the first half of the drive home nursing his righteous anger and listening to Chubby Checker, turned up really loud. He spent the second half in silence, haunted by the devastation in Astrid’s blue eyes. He’d been so harsh, but damn it, she’d used him.
Hadn’t she?
Well, it was true she hadn’t come on to him. He’d been the one who’d kissed her. Yes, but she could have told him then. She could have said, Fletch, there’s something you don’t know about me. I’m one of the richest girls in Dallas.
He tried to picture her saying such a thing and couldn’t. She wasn’t the type. Although she might have more money than God, she didn’t act like it.
Which should have told him that the money wasn’t all that important to her.
But it was there, and it wouldn’t melt overnight or be absorbed in some Ponzi scheme so that she’d suddenly be on the same financial footing as he was. Wishing that she didn’t have the money was ridiculous, anyway. She might be using that money to finance her clinic, and for all he knew she did a lot of pro bono work because she didn’t have to make a huge profit.
She wouldn’t tell him that, of course. That might be what wounded him most of all. She hadn’t trusted him with the information about her wealth, as if she thought he’d go off the deep end if he found out.
Which he had.
She’d told him he was no different from everyone else. He believed all the clichés about rich people. He’d demonstrated that prejudice beautifully tonight, hadn’t he? He’d found out she was rich and had assumed the worst.
By the time he pulled up in front of the ranch house, his anger had drained away and he felt like crap for beating up on her like that. But the truth was, he didn’t really know how she felt about him. She’d planned to tell him, she’d said, but would knowing have made any difference really? She still might have viewed their affair as temporary fun. She’d said nothing to contradict that.
He didn’t feel like going into the house, so he left his truck and walked down to the barn. Horses had always calmed him. Even though he associated Janis and Buddy with Astrid, he drifted toward the foaling stall. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment.
Janis was munching her evening oats, and Buddy came over on his stilt-like legs to investigate Fletch. Fletch stroked the sweet baby’s nose and told him what a great stallion he would become someday. Astrid had made this birth possible, and Fletch couldn’t forget that as he scratched Buddy’s soft coat.
Another vet might have pushed for a C-section, which would’ve been more costly—more profit for the vet—and might have resulted in all kinds of complications. Astrid had hung on for the natural approach, letting Janis work it out herself. Fletch realized it could have backfired, but he’d been with Astrid on that. If the decision had been wrong, they would have shared the blame.
We’ve shared so much.
They had, and none of it had to do with being rich or poor. It had been all about the love of animals and a general optimistic belief that if left alone, the animals would figure out the best course of action. It was, he realized, a philosophy of animal management, but it was also a general philosophy of life. Don’t push extreme measures. Wait and see. Let things unfold naturally.
Had she been trying to do that with their relationship? Then they’d been thrown into a high-pressure situation, and the natural timetable had been skewed by her plunge into the stream. He remembered that she’d driven across the bridge while thinking about him.
Janis finished her oats and came over for some petting. “What do you say, girl?” Fletch brushed her forelock out of her eyes. “Am I an idiot?”
Janis snorted and bobbed her head.
It was a typical horsey gesture, not to be interpreted in any special way, but Fletch laughed. “Could be I am. You’re the expert on these things. Janis Joplin knew all about human nature.”
He was officially getting slap happy, but talking to the horses was better than wandering up to the house and facing that empty king-sized bed. He looked for reasons to stay, and ended up straightening tack and sweeping the wooden aisle between the stalls.
That’s where he was when Astrid walked into the barn. He saw a movement, glanced up from his sweeping, and saw her standing under an overhead light, a blond angel who made his heart leap. He dropped the broom.
“I couldn’t leave it like that between us,” she said.
He took a breath. “I was mean.”
“Yes, you were. I didn’t know you had it in you to be that mean.”
“Neither did I.” His chest tightened. “Apparently you get to me.”
“Likewise.” She stayed right where she was, not advancing, but not retreating either.
He hoped she wasn’t a figment of his imagination, but she looked real enough. “For the record, I’m not automatically prejudiced against rich people.”
“That’s nice to hear.” She took a deep breath. “But if my being rich is a problem to you, I’d rather give away every penny if that would . . . would . . .”
She wasn’t going to move, but he did. He closed the distance between them in three strides. Stopping in front of her, he looked into her eyes. “Would what?”