His Rodeo Sweetheart. Pamela Britton

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just wished he’d called first.

      “You’re going to help us with Thor?” They both glanced down at the little boy. “Man, you’re brave. He almost bit my mom’s hand.”

      Those green eyes shot to hers. “Is it that bad?”

      She shifted from one foot to the other, something close to shame causing her to lick her lips in chagrin. “He’s been—” she searched for the word “—a challenge.”

      “Then I should probably look at him sooner rather than later.”

      Yes, he probably should, and that was the problem because now that he stood in front of her she wondered what had possessed her to invite him to the ranch.

      “You should come out today.”

      “Adam.” Claire had to physically restrain herself from tapping her son with her toe. “I doubt Dr. McCall has time to see Thor today.”

      He glanced toward the door. “But I do.”

      “See,” Adam said, taking her hand. “Let’s go right now. Thor needs help.”

      She pulled her fingers from her son’s grasp. “But I have to check on that order.”

      “I’ll wait,” he said.

      She straightened. Of course he would wait. He had nothing better to do. Recently out of the Army, on his own, nobody to report to. She, on the other hand, had a million things to do, starting with her errands here in town.

      She glanced down at her son, spotted the excitement in his eyes and recognized the reason for insistence. Adam felt sorry for Thor, as so many people felt sorry for her son, something she’d explained to him when he’d been given toys for no reason at all. He’d been the one to goad her into calling Dr. McCall. And here stood the good doctor, and she was grateful, she really was.

      “Then I guess I’ll be right back,” she said, resigned to her fate. She’d just have to catch up on life another day—if she ever caught up.

      What was he doing?

      Ethan turned down a Y in the road, following behind Claire’s silver pickup, the wheels of his own truck making a sticking sound as they drove on what looked to be new pavement.

      You’re checking up on an old friend’s dog.

      They were out in the middle of nowhere, mountains ringing a picturesque valley carpeted by grass. In the distance, at the base of the hills, trees stained the bottoms a darker shade of green, but the peacefulness around him did nothing to lessen the beating of his heart. That staccato rhythm was the same type he’d felt before jumping out of a plane for the first time, or heading overseas, or facing enemy fire, and damned if he knew why he was feeling it now.

      Just check in on Janus, take a look at Thor and then leave.

      And go where? That was the question. That was always the question.

      They’d traveled the road for at least a half mile, when at last Ethan spotted in the distance a small, square home that sat at the base of a low hill beneath giant oaks. A cute picket fence matched the white house. As they drew nearer, he could see a fence made of rust-colored barbed wire along the back of the property, beneath the line of trees a hundred or so yards away, the fence posts that held it in place stained gray with age. To the left of the house sat a line of kennels, at least a half dozen of them, more than one Belgian Malinois pacing inside, all of them barking up a storm. Well, all except one. He suspected that was Thor, but for now he had eyes only for Janus.

      His hands gripped the steering wheel. It’d been tough saying goodbye. Tougher still to see him again. He missed Trev more than he would have thought possible given the short time they’d known each other. Then again, combat will do that to a person: make brothers out of near strangers.

      “Welcome,” Claire said as she stepped out of her truck.

      He’d parked next to her, along the left side of her house, almost in front of the kennels. He got out and stood by the side of the truck, the smell of dirt and oak trees and fresh-cut grass so predominant that for a moment all he did was inhale.

      He caught her staring at him curiously. “Nice place.”

      She had her hand on her son’s head again, bending down to say something.

      “But I want to watch him with Thor,” her son said.

      “In a minute,” he heard her murmur.

      The boy’s head bowed. His shoulders slumped. He did everything but kick at a rock, but he did as she asked, muttering something under his breath, something about Hawkman.

      His gaze must have reflected his puzzlement because she smiled. “His immune system still isn’t up to par.” Her smile faded a bit. “He thinks I’m stupid for wanting him to go inside and wash his hands after we’ve been out and about.”

      “So he’s threatening to have Hawkman come after you?”

      The smile turned back on. “He’s a friend of the family.”

      “You have a superhero for a friend?” For the first time since his arrival, he felt like smiling, too. “Wow. I’m impressed.”

      Something low and soft that he recognized as a laugh filled the air. “Not really. We’re friends with Rand Jefferson.” She shook her head. “The actor that plays the superhero in the movies. It’s a long story.”

      “Maybe you can tell it to me after I say hello to an old friend.”

      “Yeah, sure.” Her smile seemed to have a short in it because it fizzled. “He’s over there.”

      “I know.”

      Janus had spotted him. He could tell by the way the dog’s eyes had fixated on him, his whole body having gone still, as if he silently tried to telepathically commune with his old friend. He knew what he would say.

      Where have you been? What are you doing here? Where’s Trevor?

      He didn’t have an answer for the dog.

      “Platz,” he ordered sternly as dog after dog jumped up on the fence of their loafing sheds. Janus just stood there, as if he tried to reassure himself through sight and smell that it really was his master’s old friend. Then he shifted his gaze past Ethan, as if hoping to spot Trev.

      He nearly stumbled.

      I keep looking for him, too.

      You deployed with someone. You see them day in and day out. You drink beers with them, you shoot pool with them, you even go on leave together once or twice. And then—bam—just not there. He still couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t imagine how Janus felt.

      “How are you?” he asked the dog, flipping up the latch that kept the front gate closed. “Good to see you again, buddy.”

      The

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