cantankerous zebras; Spot and Potsy, two arthritic Shetland ponies; and Gordon the ill-tempered donkey. Beneath a row of hackberry trees near the driveway, two swayback snowy white horses stood side by side, lazily swishing their tails in unison.
He’d moved to this small town in the Texas Hill Country for just this reason—an affordable place with a good climate where he could provide a “retirement” home for unwanted animals. Where they—and he—could live in peace and quiet. Land in California had been too expensive. So he’d come back to Texas, to the town where his friend Hank McCauley lived, even though this particular place wasn’t Luke’s hometown, not that he thought of any particular place as home.
Besides, he didn’t need a hometown. He was a grown man who could take care of himself. These animals didn’t have anywhere to go except a slaughterhouse or rendering plant.
The sound of barking reminded him that he should feed the Jack Russell terriers in their run near the barn. But first he needed to make sure his inquisitive little neighbor got back through the fence—the one that divided his property from Travis Whitaker’s ranch.
Ever since the animals had begun arriving from California, Oklahoma and Colorado, Eddie Wooten had started visiting Luke’s property. He hid behind the newly painted barn, lurked behind shrubby Mesquite trees and sneaked between the hackberry trees in the fencerow. When he figured Luke wasn’t looking, he’d coax the animals to him with carrots and apples. The same scenario had occurred at least a half-dozen times, enough that Luke was now on the lookout for one little boy.
If Eddie stayed on his side of the fence, Luke wouldn’t worry. But the boy was fearless when it came to animals—especially Lola and Lollipop—and put himself in danger by walking into the pasture. Eddie could be accidentally bitten, stepped on or knocked down.
He tried to remember himself as a child, but the image wouldn’t form. Sometimes he thought he’d been born at age fourteen. Had he ever been as inquisitive as Eddie? As naive?
Luke winced at the memory of Kate Wooten arriving at his ranch the last time the boy had strayed over. She’d been tense and worried and yet more beautiful than he remembered from the first time he’d seen her. She’d held Eddie to her briefly, assured herself that he was uninjured, and then soundly chastised him for running off. She’d told him that he absolutely could not come here again, that he had to stay away from the animals. Then she’d turned those wide gray eyes on Luke and apologized for her son’s impulsive, inappropriate behavior.
He’d never heard childish curiosity called “inappropriate” behavior before. Only later had he discovered, through an innocent conversation with Gwendolyn McCauley at the local café, that Kate was an elementary school teacher. She was one classy lady, and obviously well educated. Her reserved attitude and the fact that she stuck around only long enough to retrieve her son made their differences real obvious.
He’d gruffly told her that her son should stay on his side of the fence because any animal could be dangerous, even one that looked perfectly harmless. She’d looked at him in horror for an endless moment, then bundled off Eddie without another word. Luke had barely seen her since. Certainly hadn’t spoken to her.
She apparently found him even more frightening than his animals.
Eddie cleared the fence and ran in the direction of the Whitaker house. Or more specifically, the Whitaker garage, where he lived in the apartment upstairs with his mother.
Luke didn’t want to dwell on the attractive but uptight sister of his coolly polite neighbor. Travis wasn’t hostile, but he seemed suspicious of Luke and the Last Chance Ranch. It really didn’t matter because Luke owned the land and was here to stay, regardless of what the locals thought or said.
Just as he turned away to walk back to the house, a truck pulled off the rural road into the long driveway, past his house to the large barn. His feed shipment had arrived. When the driver, a young man named Lester Boggs, stopped and rolled down the window, Luke told him, “Pull on around to the barn door. I’ll help you unload.”
“You runnin’ some kind of zoo?” Lester asked as they piled up the sacks of feed.
“Not exactly.”
“Aunt Joyce said Hank told her and Thelma you used to work in Hollywood.”
“I did a little animal training. A little stunt work.”
“You ever do any stunts for Ben Affleck?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“Johnny Depp?”
“Not really.”
The other man seemed disappointed. Well, too bad. Luke didn’t believe in living his life in public. Hank had warned him people would be curious about any newcomer. A newcomer with a menagerie of animals…that caused extra speculation. Luke didn’t care, as long as he wasn’t bothered.
The previous owner hadn’t taken good care of the ranch. All the animals except a few half-wild barn cats had been sold long ago. The place was as close to deserted as Luke had ever seen. His first priorities had been the barn and fences. Everything else could wait.
“Why would you want a bunch of old animals?” Lester asked as they worked on the hay bales. Next year Luke planned to grow his own crop of coastal Bermuda, but for now he needed to buy hay locally.
“I like them,” Luke said, hooking another bale. “They spent their lives performing in circuses, films, animal acts. They’ve earned a retirement, but some of them were going to be put down because they weren’t useful anymore. He felt his anger build at the injustice. “Some were wasting away without food or shelter. I’m giving them a home for as long as they live.”
Lester looked at him as though he were nuts. “Whatever you say, Mr. Simon,” he said cautiously.
Luke didn’t respond. He’d had no intention of talking about himself to strangers. And as far as he was concerned, almost everyone here was a stranger, even if he did know their names and where they lived. Even if they were neighbors.
KATE STOPPED LOADING the washing machine when she saw the telltale burrs on her son’s fleece pullover. “Oh, Eddie.” He’d been in the pasture where he’d been forbidden to venture.
“Hey, Kate,” Jodie, looking gorgeous in a coral athletic suit, said from the doorway of the downstairs laundry room. Jodie, a plus-size model who had a clothing line and a fragrance, and Travis had been married for almost a year. Their daughter was just beginning to teethe—still far too young to be slipping away on her own to get into trouble.
“Hi, Jodie,” Kate replied, trying to coax some enthusiasm into her voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“My son. Our neighbor. Everything.”
“Surely it’s not that bad,” Jodie said sympathetically, leaning her hip against the dryer.
Kate held the garment briefly to her chest. “I’m frustrated that I can’t stop Eddie from running over to our neighbor’s ranch to see those odd animals. He could be injured by Travis’s huge longhorn cattle along the way. He could fall and hurt himself—hit his head on a rock or break his leg. And how would anyone know?”
“Would you feel better if Travis moved the cattle for now? Or would you like to find someplace
