her reaction to his overwhelmingly sexy presence. “It’s not my fault my younger brother was allergic to dogs. I’ve never had much exposure to them.”
He grinned. “Maybe you should think about getting a kitten, then.”
“I’m allergic to cats.”
“A salamander?”
Their gazes locked and Robin noticed how his chambray shirt brought out the blue of his eyes. She shot back, “Very funny.”
The awareness between them increased.
Sam sighed. “It would be cruel to let Molly interact with the puppies and then tell her she has no hope of actually getting one.”
Robin flushed—she hadn’t thought of it that way. “We don’t even know if Molly is going to like dogs.”
Sam leaned closer. His five o’clock shadow, the same inky black as his short, tousled hair, gave him a faintly dangerous edge. “She’ll like ‘em, all right.”
“You’re so sure of yourself!” Unlike her. She never had been, never would be. Not enough, anyway, to keep up with him…
Sam flashed her a sexy smile. “Then let’s put it to the test,” he offered. “Come home with me. And we’ll see.”
***
Robin didn’t know why she was doing this, following Sam home, when for years she had managed to avoid all intimate interaction with him.
Of course, that was mostly because there’d been little chance of them actually running into each other until a few of months ago, when she’d left Fort Worth and returned to Laramie.
The rest was because every time she saw Sam she felt a wave of regret, followed swiftly by the even more devastating knowledge that in walking away she had done what was right for both of them.
She’d never had it in her to make Sam happy.
Or for that matter, to make any man happy.
But she did have what it took to help an orphaned child get on with her life. And the puppies Sam was overseeing were the key.
At least Robin thought so until she actually saw them.
Ten golden-blond balls of fluff, with adorably cute faces and ferociously wagging tails were running, tumbling and fighting their way to their momma’s side.
Sam hunkered down to pet the beautiful full-grown golden retriever. Robin knelt beside them. “Meet Gorgeous,” he said proudly.
Robin blinked, so startled she almost fell over. “You actually call your dog that?” The pet name he’d given her, back when they were still an item!
Sam put out a hand to steady her. His gaze swept her, head to toe, before returning with laser-like accuracy to her eyes. “You’re asking if I named my dog after the only other female in this world who had the power to turn my heart inside out?”
For a moment, she thought Sam was serious. Then the familiar gleam of mischievousness shone in his dark eyes.
“Of course I did,” he drawled with a wink.
Knowing he couldn’t still be as hung up on her as she was on him, Robin pulled her tingling arm away. “A laugh a minute, as always,” she muttered. Or was that a thrill?
Sam grinned and got slowly to his feet, then gave her a hand up, too. “So I’ll see you and Molly Saturday afternoon?”
Warming from the inside out, Robin nodded. And in the meantime, she’d try to keep her own fragile heart intact.
Sam had heard Molly Russell was not doing well. Seeing her in person, however, really drove that fact home.
The eight-year-old child who emerged from Robin’s pick-up truck was small for her age and painfully thin. Her red hair and freckles stood out against the underlying paleness of her skin. Her green eyes were filled with a soul-deep sorrow that broke his heart.
Beside her, Robin was a study in good cheer. “Hi, Sam. I don’t know if you two have formally met, but…” She turned back to Molly and said, “Sam is our neighbor to the south. You can see his ranch house from our front porch.”
And he could see Robin’s house and barn from his. “At ten acres each, we both have what barely pass for ranches in these parts,” Sam teased. “I’ve got puppies, though. Want to see them?”
The child offered no reaction.
“Well, I would!” Robin said. She touched Molly’s shoulder gently, guiding her in the direction of Sam’s house.
Molly shrugged away from Robin with a reticence that Sam knew had to hurt.
Feeling for both of them, Sam moved to Molly’s other side. He strode toward the porch. “I was just about to feed them.”
Robin threw him a grateful glance. “I thought all puppies did was nurse.”
“For the first four weeks. Then we start them on actual dog food. Although initially, it’s more of a mash.”
Sam held open the door and together, they went into the family room. There, they found a whelping pen, ten foot square with a linoleum floor and mesh-wire walls. As usual, some of the puppies were sleeping next to their momma. Others were nursing. Two were sniffing around the edges, trying to figure a way out, while another mouthed a soft toy.
Sam set a gate across the entrance to the room, then opened the pen door. Gorgeous nudged her pups away, stood, shook herself off, stretched and came toward Sam. He knelt down to pet her and was soon surrounded by snuggling, jumping, nosing five-week-old puppies.
Robin pointed at the splotch of brightly colored paint on their backs, just behind their necks. “What’s that for?”
Sam smiled. “So I can tell them apart. We’ve got White, Green, Blue, Pink, Red, Orange, Purple, Black, Yellow, and Maroon.”
“I see them all…except Yellow,” Robin said.
Wordlessly, Molly pointed to a leather recliner in the corner of the room.
Sam grinned. The child might not say much but clearly nothing escaped her notice.
He looked at the chair that hid their runaway, then back at Molly. “Shall I get her? Or would you like to do the honors?”
Molly shrugged.
Seeing an opening, however small, Sam told Molly, “Tell you what. How about you get her for me while I make their dinner?”
Giving the child no opportunity to refuse, he retrieved the circular feeding dish with the raised middle and took it to the container that held the puppy food. He scooped some in, added water, and mashed it with a fork until it was as soft and malleable as baby food.
Out of the
