Reuniting with the Cowboy (4 page)

“Looks like they had most of the plans for the petting zoo in place, but with the carnival this weekend, we'll need volunteers ASAP. We have several gentle horses, but we still need a few more small animals and two volunteers to oversee both. If interested, see our director after services.” The deacon turned the service over to the song director.

Ally could provide dogs and cats, and she'd probably know where to find more animals. Maybe he could talk her into volunteering to supply the petting zoo and help him oversee it. It would help the church, she might find homes for some of her strays, and it could get her back in church.

But how should he go about convincing her to agree?

* * *

At least the week started off quiet. Routine appointments. No emergencies. No state inspectors. No loose animals.

A tiny golden Chihuahua mix shivered in the corner of her crate. From nerves, not temperature. Ally fished her out.

“Poor baby Buttercup.” Ally snuggled the tiny shaking body against her chest. “My poor little runt. Your brother and sister found families, but don't give up. You'll get your forever home. I promise.”

“There you are.” Cody's voice echoed through the long barn.

Ally's heart sped as yips, barks and howls started up. She stepped out of the pen into the alley between the kennels.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Cody limped toward her, leaning on his cane. “It's Labor Day. Don't you believe in taking a day off?”

“Staying open was convenient for my clients who were off work today.”

“Well, since you like staying busy—” he stopped beside her, too close “—I have a proposal for you.”

Her breathing sputtered. Not that kind of proposal. And she wouldn't fall for it if it was.

“Who's this little guy?” Cody scratched the quivering puppy between her ears.

“She. Her name is Buttercup. She and two littermates were found in the baseball park this past spring. Her brother and sister were adopted, but she's the runt. No one has picked her yet.”

“My sister, Tara, loves Chihuahuas and hers died a few months ago.” He lifted the puppy out of her arms and tenderly held the quivering body against his heart. “Maybe she'll take this little darling.”

“She's not all Chihuahua and that's probably why she got dumped.”

“Tara's not a breed snob. Who could dump a sweetie like this?” Cody baby-talked the puppy as she buried her nose in his neck.

“I don't have a clue.” Ally's frustration came out in her tone. “At least there was a ball game that night. One of the moms found them and brought them to me.”

“So which of these dogs and cats are homeless?” The chorus of barks had settled as the dogs got used to him in their midst.

“I keep the first twenty kennels on the left for boarding. Their people are gone on vacation or out of town for work reasons.”

“Their people?” Cody grinned.

“I don't call them owners. We think of animals as our pets, so I figure the pets think of us as their people.”

“Why is she shaking? It's not cold in here.”

“Chihuahuas have an abundance of energy. She needs a walk. I was just about to take her for one.” The Border collie–spaniel mix stuck his white-and-black muzzle through his fence and whimpered. “I know, baby. You want some attention, too.” She rubbed his snout.

“Can I take him for a walk?”

“Probably not a good idea with your leg. But you can sit with him if you want.”

“I'd love that. In fact, point out the ones who need some attention and I'll take care of it while you're gone.”

He certainly wasn't making her heart grow any less fond of him by being so sweet and concerned over her strays. “You sure?”

“It's not like I have anything else to do.”

“Okay, hit this side.” She gestured to the pens on the right. “Love on as many as you can or want to.”

“Will do.” He headed for the first pen, then snapped his fingers and turned back toward her. “I almost forgot my proposal. I went to our old church yesterday and signed you up to supply the pets and oversee the petting zoo for the carnival this weekend.”

Her neck heated. Was that steam blowing out her ears? “Without asking me?”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing and they needed volunteers fast or the whole thing was threatening to fall apart.” He shrugged. “They'd already advertised the petting zoo, so they have to supply it. And just think, it might be a chance to get some of your strays adopted out.”

“But I don't go to church there anymore.” She propped her hands on her hips.

“I know. Caitlyn told me.”

“So did you ever stop to think maybe I'm tied up with my church this weekend? Or with work? Or with life?” Not that she had one, really, but he didn't need to know that.

“Your church? You still go?”

“Of course I go.” She was a glorified pew warmer, just going through the motions, but she wouldn't mention that. “There are other churches, you know.”

“I just assumed. Caitlyn said you hadn't been since...”

Her dad died. Her eyes stung. “I haven't. Mom and I switched to one in Denton.”

“Did something happen at our church?”

“No.” She sat down on a hay bale. “It was just overwhelming. Everybody was so sympathetic and sad for us. The sympathy almost smothered us. We wanted to go somewhere where nobody knew us. Where nobody knew Dad.” Her voice wobbled. “Where they didn't feel sorry for us.” Where Ally could pretend she was still leaning on God.

The hay bale gave with his weight as he sat beside her. “They were sad for you because they care.”

“I know.” She swiped at her eyes. “It was just too much.”

He put an arm around her shoulders.

Ally's pulse thrummed at his nearness. In fact, he could probably hear it. More than anything, she wanted to snuggle close, accept his comfort.

For a breath of a second, she let her head rest against his shoulder. But if she stayed, she might lose her heart. And he'd realize how she felt. But she couldn't feel that way about him or any other man. Self-sufficient Ally didn't need anyone. Wouldn't allow herself to. She pulled away from him and stood.

“I'll make a few calls, see if I can rustle up animals for the petting zoo.”

“And think about overseeing it? It starts after school lets out Friday and ends at seven. Then ten till three on Saturday.”

“Sorry, those are my work hours.” She scooped the puppy away from Cody, touching him as little as possible. “I need to walk Buttercup. You start dog-sitting while I go.” She grabbed a leash off the wall and strode toward the exit.

“Hey, Ally.”

“Hmm.” She stopped but didn't turn around.

“Are you mad at me?”

Yes. I'm mad at you for leasing my land. For that stupid kiss and leaving me behind all those years ago.
But she couldn't tell him that. And that wasn't what he meant anyway.

Her shoulders slumped. “No. But in the future, don't sign me up for anything without asking me first.”

“I meant about the kiss.”

Chapter Four

G
reat. Cody held his breath. Maybe she'd think that break in his voice came from the awkward subject.

“What kiss?” Ally kept her back to him.

She didn't remember? Had it meant so little to her? Could the same kiss that turned Cody's world upside down be forgettable for her? Oh, how he wished he hadn't brought it up. Especially since his emotions had betrayed him. But he had and he couldn't let it drop.

“After your dad—I got carried away with comforting you. I was a kid and you were so close to me. You smelled good and I just wanted to make you feel better.” You smelled good? Just shut up, Warren. Before you say something else stupid and make it even worse.

“It didn't mean anything.” Her response was little more than a whisper.

“I know.” To her, anyway. His heart crashed on the concrete between his boots. “I just want you to know—you're safe from me. So if you ever need a shoulder, I'm not a kid anymore. I can do just comfort.”

“Good to know.” She latched the leash on Buttercup's collar and vaulted out of the barn.

Cody stood and looked skyward. “You're safe from me?” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. It sounded dumb, and with everything in him, he wanted to take it back.

But at least maybe things would be easier between them now. He'd help her with her animals and, if she agreed, the carnival so her strays might be adopted. And deep down, so he could spend time with her.

On top of everything else, he'd lied to her. He hadn't signed her up for the petting zoo. But telling her he had was the only way he could think of to convince her to participate.
But, Lord, it's for Your good. It'll help the church. And maybe some of Ally's strays will find a home. So yes, I lied and I'm doing it for the wrong reasons, but You can take my selfish intentions and work them for good.

The Border collie whimpered.

“Hey, guy. What's your name?” Cody read the plate by the gate. “Oreo.” He unlatched the pen and stepped inside. In the corner, he sat on a chair and the dog reared up on his knees. “A fitting name.”

Ally was the kind of woman who named each stray. The kind of woman he could spend the rest of his life with. But how much life did he have left?

He had to be satisfied with being her friend. Only her friend.

Oreo settled his chin on Cody's knee. “You wanna come home with me, don't you, boy?” The dog's ears perked up. “I think I'll tell Ally to hold you for me until I get a bit more steady on my feet.”

His phone rang and he dug it out of his pocket. Mitch. “Hello?”

“Those persons of interest we discussed. No record. Upstanding citizens.”

“You're sure?”

“We're talking Boy Scouts. Literally. Any more trouble?”

“No.” Cody scratched between the dog's ears. “Maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree—pun intended.”

“I hope so. You let me know if there are any more incidents.”

“I will. Thanks.” Cody ended the call.

Maybe the other night had been an accident. Kids playing a prank or taking a dare. Doubtful, but maybe. Or maybe it was just a onetime thing. Just in case, he had to stick close to Ally. To make sure she stayed safe.

But how could he keep his heart in check while he protected her?

* * *

Her mom and the volunteers from the youth group traipsed the property with various dogs while Ally walked the Border collie spaniel.

The kiss discussion was a whole day ago, but her heartbeat hadn't gotten back to normal yet.

She smelled good. Cody thought she smelled good. Back in high school, anyway.

Now she smelled like...horse sweat, manure and worse.

But twelve years ago, had Cody been attracted to her?

No, she'd just been sad and he'd wanted to make her feel better. She knew it then and she knew it now. Why couldn't her heart catch on?

If he'd felt anything for her, he wouldn't have left for the rodeo, wouldn't have stayed gone so long.

And besides, she did not need a man in her life. Not Cody. Or anyone else. She had to stop thinking about him and concentrate on finding homes for her strays.

Gravel crunched in her drive.

Past her regular hours, clients with emergencies tended to make frantic calls first, and her usual volunteers had already arrived and were walking dogs.

“Let's go see who it is, Oreo.” She turned the dog back toward the clinic.

As she rounded the building Cody headed toward the barn.

With a woman.

Her heart stammered. His girlfriend? Fiancée?

She couldn't do this. Meet the woman in Cody's life. Not with her hair more out of her braid than in. Not with manure on her boots. She turned away and tried to hurry Oreo out of their sight.

“Ally, there you are,” Cody called.

Ally's shoulders fell. Out of all the horse ranches in Aubrey, why had the one next to her stayed vacant until Cody Warren decided to play ranch?

“Ally, over here.”

Straightening her shoulders, she pasted a smile on her face and turned around.

“Hey.” Feet forward, one step at a time.

Way too fast, the gap between them closed. The woman looked familiar.

“This is my dog.” Cody bent to scratch Oreo. “Or he will be when I get a bit more recovered.”

For you or for your girlfriend?

“We bonded last night, didn't we, boy? I'd take him now if it wasn't for my knee, but Ally's holding him for me.” Cody looked up at her. “You remember my sister, Tara?”

His sister. Ally looked past the blond hair, recognized the familiar green eyes and smile. “Of course.” A fit of relieved laughter clogged in her throat. Did she sound as giddy as she felt?

“It's great to see you.” Tara hugged her.

“You, too. I didn't recognize you at first.”

“Well, what can I say?” Tara patted her locks. “I'm a hairdresser. When I get bored, I change my color. So, where is she?” Tara rubbed her hands together much the same way Cody did when anticipating food.

“She who?”

“Remember?” Cody winked at her. “I told you to hold Buttercup until I could check with Tara?”

The wink rattled her already-shaky heart. “Oh. Of course. You'd like to see her.”

“Actually, I want to take her home.”

“Without meeting her first? She's not full-blood.”

“I know and I was reluctant at first, but not because of her breeding.” Tara's eyes misted and she pressed a hand to her chest. “I've still got footprints on my heart from Ginger and I initially said no. But Cody told me how sweet Buttercup is and showed me a picture. I couldn't resist, so here I am.”

“That's wonderful.” Ally transferred Oreo's leash from one hand to the other as the dog grew restless. “I know you'll provide a good home for her. But there are a few things to consider before you see her. Didn't you get married?”

“Yes. We live in Dallas.”

“Does your husband like dogs?”

“Oh, yes. Jared is a major animal lover.” Tara's smile turned dreamy. “I wouldn't have married him if he wasn't.”

“What about children?”

“Not yet, but definitely planned in the future.”

“Chihuahuas aren't the best breed with small children.” Oreo persisted in wrapping his leash around Ally's legs. “They can be protective of their people and aggressive, so they've been known to nip toddlers for simply climbing into Mommy's lap.”

“I didn't realize.” Tara's eyes widened.

“But she's not all Chihuahua. So it may not be an issue and if it is, if properly trained or kept separate until the child is older, there shouldn't be a problem.”

“Oh, good.”

“Now, what about where you live?” Ally stepped out of the corkscrew Oreo had created. “Apartment? House? Do you have a yard?”

“We're in a subdivision, a house with a fenced-in yard.” Tara knelt to scratch behind Oreo's ears. “We kept Ginger in the mudroom with a doggy door while we were gone. Whoever got home first romped with her in the backyard and sometimes we'd take her for a walk in the evening. When we were home, she had the run of the house.”

Ally offered her hand. “You pass. Buttercup is yours if you want her.”

“I do. Let's go get her.” Tara stood and rubbed her hands together again.

“Let me walk him back.” Cody took Oreo's leash, his hand grazing Ally's. Electricity shot all the way to her toes.

While it took food to excite Cody, and Buttercup got Tara animated, it seemed Cody was Ally's source of excitement. His nearness propelled her right over the edge of her sanity.

Which was why she'd held off on agreeing to volunteer for the carnival. Spending a day and a half with him certainly wouldn't help her keep her right mind. But time at the church with her other two dozen or so four-legged friends who still needed forever homes would be good advertisement.

More than anything, she wanted to help the abandoned pets in her care. But could she survive working side by side with Cody?

* * *

It had taken Tara forever to finalize her purchases—a crate, a leash, a chew toy, along with tick-and-flea preventative—before she'd taken Buttercup and been on her way.

Cody loved his sister, but he was dying to spend time with Ally alone.

“So, you're holding Oreo for me, right?”

“I told you I would.” Ally pointed to the boarding side of the kennels. “See, I moved him over to the boarder side last night. He belongs to someone.”

“Do I need to pay you for boarding him?”

“No. He's fine until you can take him home.”

“I wish I could right now.” Cody sat on a hay bale and scratched the dog's head. “Let me at least provide his food.”

“I'm just glad he has a home. Whenever you're well enough, he's yours.”

“You hear that, buddy?” The pup's ears perked up at the enthusiasm in Cody's voice. He already loved the dog.

“And now that you're in the longhorn business, Oreo is great with cattle.”

“So you know his history?”

“His former owner brought him here because Oreo insisted on herding her horses.”

“His former owner? Not his person?”

“She obviously was never Oreo's person.” Ally harrumphed. “I guess I should be glad she brought him here instead of dumping him. Thanks for finding Buttercup a home.”

“I thought you weren't going to let Tara have her for a minute there.”

“I was just being cautious.” Ally raked hay out of a kennel and replaced it with a fresh batch. “I know Tara would never dump a dog, but a lot of the reason there are so many strays is because people aren't prepared to have a pet. Some breeds have more issues than others, so I make sure my potential adoptive families understand what they're getting into.”

“I'm glad she passed. She'd already fallen in love with Buttercup.”

“Actually, Tara got the brief version since she's owned a Chihuahua before. If she hadn't, I'd have gone into the chewing-on-the-couch issues.” The barking around them reached a crescendo as the last of the volunteers exited. “If the potential adoptive family has thought through all aspects of having a pet, there's more of a chance that both the pet and their person will be happy.”

“So why didn't you grill me about Oreo before you agreed to let me be his person?”

“Because I know you. I remember how much you loved Duke. How patient you were with him. Even as a kid. And I know you'll love Oreo and take care of him.”

Memories of his first dog warmed Cody's insides. That Ally remembered did funny things in his chest.

“You'll take care of him no matter where you end up.”

No matter where he ended up? Apparently he hadn't convinced her he was settling in Aubrey yet. Even though his longhorns arrived yesterday and she was vaccinating them tomorrow. Maybe he should've had a little faith and bought the ranch instead of leasing it.

The phone rang and she hurried past the kennels to the desk. “
Ally
'
s Vet Clinic and Adopt
-
a
-
Pet
. May I help you?”

Cody scratched Oreo's ears and cooed at him. How did animals reduce full-grown men to baby talk? Probably the same way babies did. Michaela, his niece courtesy of Mitch and Caitlyn, had him making silly faces and doing whatever it took just to get a grin out of her these days.

And made him think about having his own kids someday. If he lived long enough for it.

Ally let out a little whoop, whirled around and came running toward him.

“What?” He stood.

“You're so awesome!” She hugged him.

His arms slid around her waist, sending his pulse into orbit. “I've been trying to convince everyone of that for years.”

“That was a friend of Tara's. She said you told her all about my shelter. She's coming tomorrow to get three cats and a dog, maybe even two dogs, for her kids.”

“That's wonderful.” But not nearly as wonderful as holding her.

She pressed her cheek against his chest, probably hearing his erratic heartbeat. Way too soon, she pushed away from him and their gazes locked. Her face neared his as she rose on tiptoe.

Was she going to kiss him? He closed his eyes in anticipation but her lips brushed his cheek. And then she was gone.

By the time he found enough courage to open his eyes, she was grabbing a leash off the wall.

“My volunteer walkers should get here anytime. You can stay and play with the critters if you want. Oh, and that carnival thing you mentioned. I'll oversee it. I've got ponies, rabbits, goats and, of course, cats and dogs lined up. Is that enough?”

“Sounds great. We still on for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Wednesday? On for what?” She cocked her head to the side.

“You're supposed to vaccinate my cattle.”