Forever A Family. Bonnie K. Winn

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Forever A Family - Bonnie K. Winn Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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like to see you settled with a woman who has a heart as good as yours.”

      Embarrassed at the praise, Zeke pushed it aside. “One who wants to take in every stray like I do?” Remembering, he softened his voice. “Like you and Mom when you took me in?”

      “Best thing we ever did.” Robert cleared his throat. “We want to make sure you stay happy.”

      Those first months as their foster kid, he’d driven his new family well beyond the edge of their patience and then some, but they never gave up on him. “Dad, I’m happy.” He gestured out the window at the acres of land his small ranch encompassed, the well-kept outbuildings and barn that allowed him to practice as he wanted. “Look at all I have. Wouldn’t have happened without your guidance.”

      “And your hard work,” his father insisted. “We still got the best end of the deal.” Robert swallowed the last bite of his cake. “You think any of your brothers or sisters would have shared this?”

      “Mom’s cake is worth tussling over.”

      “So, you haven’t told me.”

      Puzzled, Zeke looked at him in question.

      “About the woman who scattered your brood.”

      “I told you what happened.”

      His father’s eyes remained steady. “But not about her.”

      Zeke raised his eyebrows. “I’m guessing right now her life is as scattered as those chicks were.”

      “That all you noticed about her?”

      Zeke hadn’t forgotten the jolt of sensation when she’d accidentally grabbed his hands or the vulnerability in her unusual violet eyes. “She’s got plenty of troubles without adding me to the mix.”

      “Hmm.” Robert glanced at the remaining cake.

      Smiling, Zeke cut another wedge and placed it on his father’s plate.

      “Too bad,” Robert continued. “She sounds like a corker. Nothing better than a woman with spunk.”

      Chapter Four

      “That’s not one of your old T-shirts.” Joey paused at the entrance of the clinic.

      Olivia nudged him forward. “Concentrate on your work, not me.” Still, she tugged at the tail of her lavender T-shirt, hoping it wouldn’t look new to Zeke. Technically it wasn’t new. She’d bought it weeks ago; she just hadn’t worn it before.

      “I smell pancakes,” Joey announced. “If I gotta come here, let’s eat.” The door to the private quarters was fully open. Not hesitating, he trotted past the doorway. Seemed hunger had trumped rebellion. In moments he’d disappeared.

      Olivia felt far more uncertain.

      “Come on in,” Zeke hollered from somewhere in the back.

      Joey had probably already reached the kitchen, but Olivia wasn’t as confident, certainly not as bold. Clearly a man’s home, the room held a large well-used leather chair the color of mahogany—much like most of the wood pieces, including the crowded bookcase and the side tables filled with veterinary magazines. A tall, wide fireplace dominated one wall. Unlit because of the warm temperatures, the imposing hearth proclaimed its prominence with raw, rough-hewn granite. Wide-planked oak floors creaked slightly beneath her feet as she trod inside.

      She could envision Zeke, his long legs stretched out so that his boots rested on the scarred coffee table, face buried in one of the hundreds of books.

      “Mom!” Joey appeared, looking annoyed. “Zeke says if you want to eat, come on.”

      Wondering if that was a direct quote, Olivia answered him. “Okay.” Following her sure-footed son, she lagged behind. Venturing into yet another strange place reminded her of all the new schools she’d had to enter each time her father had been transferred, the stares of the other kids, none of whom would remain longtime friends, because she would have moved on again before that could happen.

      A spatula in his right hand, Zeke pointed with the other to a coffeepot. “Just brewed. Hope you like it strong.”

      She spotted a mug rack and took one emblazoned with a Texas A&M logo, the university with the best veterinary program in the state. No doubt Zeke’s alma mater.

      “Cream’s in the fridge,” Zeke told her, flipping a pancake. “Sugar’s on the table.”

      “I want milk. I can get the cream,” Joey offered, clearly already acquainted with the kitchen. “They’re on the same shelf.”

      “We use the kitchen for a break room during work hours, so Joey was in here yesterday,” Zeke explained. “Gives me more space on the other side for supplies and indoor kenneling.”

      “Kenneling?”

      “Small animals I’ve operated on that need to stay through the night.” He flipped another pancake. “For observation.”

      “So you have someone who works the night shift?”

      Zeke shook his head.

      “Then who watches the overnight animals?”

      “I have an intercom and I’m a light sleeper.”

      Joey shoved a small carton of cream at her. Accepting it, she didn’t pour any into her cup. Early as it was, Zeke looked like a mass of energy despite any nighttime interruptions.

      “Joey, you’d better throw a few plates on the table so we can eat,” Zeke instructed as he added another pancake to the growing stack.

      She tried not to wince. Apparently Zeke didn’t remember that young boys often took comments literally. “Hope you don’t mind paper towels,” Zeke continued, grabbing a roll and plopping it on the table. “Don’t have many dinner guests.”

      “It’s breakfast,” Joey pointed out.

      “So it is.” Reaching back, Zeke grabbed a platter. “Silverware’s in the far left drawer.” He lifted his sturdy shoulders in a half shrug. “My mother says I have the whole kitchen set up backward.”

      Olivia found her voice. “As long as it works for you.”

      “I can only cook three things. She takes pity on me and sends over leftovers. And Angie brings in more food than I can eat.”

      To her surprise, Olivia wondered if there was a yet-unmentioned girlfriend in the mix. She’d gotten the idea yesterday that he was single, but that was just an assumption. “You really didn’t have to make breakfast for us.”

      “Just stirred up more batter. I was going to make pancakes anyway.”

      Trying not to feel like an outsider as she had most of her life, Olivia put her mug on the table. “Can I do something to help?”

      “Syrup’s in the microwave. You can grab that.”

      Grateful

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