Reuniting with the Cowboy (9 page)

“But I'm not your dad. And seeing her with someone else is tough. Probably makes you miss your dad all over again, too.” He set his hand on her shoulder. “I don't want to cause you pain, Ally, but if you ask me to back off, I'm not sure I can.”

“That would be selfish.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Just don't hurt her.”

“I won't. We okay?”

She nodded.

“Can I go have a cup of coffee with your mom without upsetting you?”

“She'd like that.” She forced a smile.

“Me, too.” He shot her a wink and turned toward the house.

Ally stayed there a minute, breathing in and out, listening to the birds and the rhythmic clunk of the staple gun echoing from the barn. She headed back inside.

Cody had already cut out the windows and folded the contact paper through the openings and was in the process of stapling the cardboard onto the frame. Maybe this project could be wrapped up quickly.

He stopped, caught her gaze. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I think he wanted my blessing to date my mother.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“Sort of.”

“Need this?” He patted his shoulder.

“No. I'm good.” She grabbed the window guide and started tracing on the other side of the ark.

Cody's eyes might be the color of a soothing aloe vera plant. But instead of healing, if she got too close, he could inflict third-degree burns. On her heart.

Chapter Nine

T
he dachshund's long body stretched out on the operating table. In dreamland, the little dog lay with his tongue lolled to the side and his mouth braced open, the anesthesia tube in place.

“There it is.” Ally gripped the bulge in the dachshund's intestine with gloved hands.

“What is it?” Derek dabbed blood near the incision in the dog's abdomen.

“We're about to see.” She slit the engorged intestine and fished out a hard oval object. “A peach pit. Silly boy, you're not supposed to eat that part.”

Derek handed her a suture. “Will he be okay?”

“He'll be just fine.” She stitched the slit, carefully pressed the intestine back in place, then closed the incision. “He'll feel a lot better when he wakes up. And probably ready to eat. Can you lock up tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. I'm doing my pet visitation at the hospital.” She pulled off her gloves and gave Derek final instructions for the patient as the lobby bell dinged. “I'll take care of it.”

Her inspector waited in the lobby. Her blood went cold. Everything should be fine. She was way under limit. “Hello, Mr. Humphries.”

“Ms. Curtis. Whenever there's a problem with a clinic, I make a return visit to make sure things have been ironed out.”

“Of course. I just finished a surgery. Let me wash up real quick.”

“Do you need to wrap things up with the patient?”

“My vet tech is taking care of him.”

“Very well.”

“I'll introduce you to Derek and you can inspect the clinic. Then I'll take you out to the barn.”

“Lead the way.” Mr. Humphries followed her to the back.

Derek had already settled the dachshund in a recovery crate and cleaned the surgical table. They should pass this inspection with flying colors, but Ally still held her breath.

“Derek, this is Mr. Humphries. He's our state inspector.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Yes. Likewise.” Mr. Humphries peered at Derek's certification on the wall underneath Ally's and Lance's licenses.

“Can you show Mr. Humphries around while I go wash up?”

“Sure.”

Ally stepped into the bathroom and leaned back against the door. Was there a mess in any of the rooms? Surely not. Mom or Brandy meticulously cleaned after each patient. But they had been busy today with numerous dog and cat vaccinations and then the emergency surgery. Surely Mr. Humphries understood emergencies.

She pulled off her smock and threw it in the washing machine. If only she could just stay in here. She soaped, rinsed and dried her hands, then sucked in a deep breath and went to face the paws patrol.

As Ally exited the bathroom, Derek and Mr. Humphries stepped out of an exam room. The inspector marked something on his clipboard. “Everything looks good here. As usual. I'm ready to see your shelter, Ms. Curtis.”

“Of course.” She suppressed a relieved sigh and headed for the barn.

The longest walk of her life. Mind blank, she couldn't think of a thing to say.

“Relax, Ms. Curtis. Remember, I'm on your side. You do good work here.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “Thank you.”

As they entered the barn, Cody was fastening a collar on the golden retriever mix she'd just gotten in a few days ago, with the spaniel mix she'd had awhile already leashed.

“Perfect timing for their walk. They're exactly the guys I need.”

“To visit the hospital. That's why I got them ready.” Cody rose up, saw Mr. Humphries. His mouth tightened. “Mr...? I'm sorry—I can't remember your name.”

“Humphries.”

“Yes. Nice to see you again.” Mr. Humphries wrote something on his form. “Tell me about your hospital visits, Ms. Curtis.”

“A friend came up with the idea earlier this year. I have several volunteers and we take dogs to visit patients at a hospital and a rehabilitation center. The dogs cheer up the patients, and the program advertises my shelter and the pets I have up for adoption.”

“Very creative.” The inspector smiled. Actually smiled. “How do you decide which dogs to take with you?”

“Unfortunately, not many fit the guidelines. Cats are too unpredictable and I can't take excitable dogs.”

“So only the calm dogs get a chance at adoption through the hospital program.”

“Not necessarily.” She grabbed her photo album. “When I get a new pet in, I take its picture and put it in this album. When they get adopted, I remove their pictures. So if anyone at the hospital or the rehab center shows interest, I have the album to show them in case they're interested in a different breed or a cat.”

“Very impressive.” He flipped through the album, then handed it back to her and strolled the long line of pens.

His bushy eyebrows lifted. “Is this all you have? Boarders and shelter pets? I must say I'm impressed. I don't believe I've ever seen so many empty cages.”

“Thank you. Cody's been volunteering here and he's had some good ideas for publicity. We adopted out several pets at a church carnival.”

“I saw something about a pet photography day and a concert.” Mr. Humphries made more notes. Hopefully good ones.

“That was Ally's doing.” Cody leaned against a pen. “All proceeds will go to her shelter, and hopefully, more pets will find good homes.”

“We're also building a float to advertise my adoption program at a local festival and parade next month.” She couldn't take the credit for that. “It was Cody's idea.”

“Sounds like y'all make a good team. Good job, Ms. Curtis.” He wrote something on his clipboard. “Very good promotions. I might mention your methods to other shelters.”

“Thank you, sir.” She couldn't keep the grin off her face.

“You've earned your rating of above satisfactory. Keep up the good work.”

“I will, sir.” As the barn door shut behind him, she sank onto a hay bale to absorb the compliment. “Above satisfactory.”

“That's awesome.”

“It really is.” All her tension melted away. She could just sit here and cry. But she needed to get on with it. As she stood, Cody raised his hand for a high five.

She slapped her palm against his, then pointed at the two dogs he'd leashed. “How did you know I needed these two for my visitation program tonight?”

“One of your volunteers told me. Could I go with you?”

Cody. In her truck. Visiting patients by her side. Not what she had in mind for a relaxing evening. She'd paused long enough that a frown settled between his brows.

“Sure. But why?”

“Like I said, I'm kind of at loose ends.”

“What about your ranch and your new job?”

“My foreman keeps the ranch running like a finely oiled machine, and I teach bull riding only three days a week until we get the word out and get more students. My evenings get long and lonely.”

Just like hers. “Okay. We better get going.”

“The pets are lucky to have you. And the patients. When I was in rehab after my bull wreck, seeing you walk in my room made my day.”

Her breath faltered. Not because of her, she reminded herself—because of the dog. Dogs always cheered people up. “Midnight, the black Lab I had that day, was great with patients. He got adopted pretty quickly after that first visit.”

“I don't even remember the dog.” His eyes locked on hers.

She concentrated on breathing. In and out.

“I mean, it had been so long since I'd seen you, and then poof, there you were.”

Oh. Silly. Of course that was what he meant. “Yeah, well, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I tend to get caught up with the clinic and the shelter and let everything else slide. Even friends.” But she remembered the night of his wreck. Calls back and forth with Caitlyn, waiting to hear if he'd live. Her stomach took a dive at the memories.

“It didn't matter when you came. Just that you came.”

Because they were friends. That was all. “Um, we should go. The hospital administrator is expecting us.”

“Lead the way.”

Heart, stay under control. It was just Cody beside her. In her truck. Her friend. And only that—all he ever wanted to be. All she could let him be.

* * *

Every time Cody got near, Ally startled. Why was she so quiet? And jumpy. He walked backward, slowly pulling the backing off the sticky side of the contact-paper roll as Ally bonded it onto the cardboard.

They'd both gone to Wednesday-night Bible study at their respective churches. Church relaxed him. Maybe it keyed Ally up.

As she smoothed the final foot in place and he peeled off the last of the backing, his ringtone started up—“Amarillo by Morning.” He took out his phone.

“It's Natalie. I hit her up to do our publicity for the festival.” He pushed the button. “Hey, Nat. You in?”

“In on what?” his publicist asked in confusion.

“On helping with publicity for Ally's shelter for the Peanut Festival.”

“Oh, that. Sure, I can help. But not what I called about. I have two offers for you.”

“Offers?”

Ally looked up from her project.

“Cowtown Coliseum wants to know if you'd be interested in signing on as a backup announcer at their rodeo and you got an offer to be the spokesperson for a tractor company.”

If he kept living, he could be a backup announcer. But he couldn't make that promise.

And the spokesperson thing didn't interest him at all. Would probably involve travel.

“I'm not interested in either offer. I'm happy right where I am, owning my ranch and teaching bull riding.” And being close to Ally. He held her gaze.

“All right. I'll let them know, and I'll get with you soon about the parade. Will you ask Ally to keep an eye out for our dog? It's the strangest thing—he knows how to open the gate, so we keep a metal fastener ring in the latch. Only a person can open it, so it's like someone let him out.”

“That is strange. I hope your dog turns up. Thanks for calling, Nat.”

“What about Natalie's dog?” Ally stood and dusted off her knees.

“She thinks somebody let it out of the pen. What kind of dog does she have? An expensive breed?”

“A chocolate Lab. Rusty. Her husband adopted him from me three or four years ago. He's a great dog. I was shocked the first time he showed up here as a pup because he's full-blood. We don't get many of those. I'll watch for him.”

“A pet-napper in Aubrey? What is this world coming to?” She stood the cardboard up and folded the edges of the contact paper through the window cutouts. A long pause stretched between them. “So you turned down offers?”

“To be a backup announcer at Cowtown Coliseum and spokesperson for a tractor company.”

“Why'd you say no?”

“I'm content here.”
Being near you, for whatever life I have left.

“Cowtown is only an hour away. And you said your evenings are lonely. That would occupy weekends.”

“Maybe I have something else in mind to occupy my time.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, ventured a glance at her.
Like you.

“Cody Warren settling down in one place. For good?”

“Things change. People change.”

She searched his eyes. Measured him. But he couldn't tell if he measured up.

“By the way, I'm taking Oreo home with me tonight.”

“You think you're ready, huh?”

“My knee is a lot more steady since all my exercising on the treadmill. I think Oreo and I are both ready to put down roots.”

“He's all yours.”

If only she could be all his. A few more days of working on the float and they'd be finished. He needed to find a new excuse to stick close to her.

If he died, who would keep Ally safe from whatever nut was trying to shut her down? Who would keep her from doing stupid things like climbing in pens with cows separated from their babies?

He had to live. But the only way to do that for certain was to have surgery. And the procedure might just finish him off anyway. But maybe he should consider it. A successful operation was his only chance. To stay alive. To plan a future with Ally.

If she'd have anything to do with him.

* * *

“Amarillo by Morning”? Ally unwound the leash from around her legs for the fifth time. The poodle she was boarding seemed intent on tripping her up as they rounded the well-worn path around her back field. All her volunteers had left for the evening. And she was about to wrap it up, too. Almost time for the long hot shower she'd dreamed of all day.

Maybe Cody just hadn't gotten around to changing his ringtone. Or maybe he simply liked the song. Or missed the circuit.

But he'd turned down two good offers last night. That had to mean he was thinking about settling down and staying in town. Maybe teaching bull riding would satisfy his adventurous nature. Could he be content in Aubrey? Could he be content with Ally?

The poodle stopped, statue still, looking toward the road. She cowered and scurried behind Ally.

“What's up with you, Trixie?” Ally surveyed the road. A flash of brown. A bark. “Oh, no. Not another stray. Why don't people at least bring y'all to me, instead of dumping?”

She picked the poodle up and headed for the front yard to investigate. A chocolate Lab sniffed her lilac bush.

“Rusty.”

The dog wagged his tail and bounded toward her as Trixie quivered in her arms.

“It's okay, Trixie. Rusty won't hurt you.” The large dog wagged his entire body as he reached her. Ally sank her fingers into his thick coat, scratching behind his ears. “He's a good boy. What are you doing here, boy? Your family is worried. Let's get you in the barn and call them.”

The good-natured dog followed her to the barn. Barks and yips reached a crescendo at the new arrival as Ally settled Trixie back in her kennel.