and Abby’s adopted seven-year-old twins, Sophie and Bella, looked at each other and bounced eagerly in their chairs. “We want them. We could keep them all, Uncle Tate! We got lotsa room.”
Jess and Abby had taken the girls in when their mother—Jess’s troubled cousin—hadn’t been able to care for them, and he could see that the twins already had Jess wrapped around their little fingers.
“Sounds like a good idea to me, girls.” Tate leveled a triumphant grin at him as Jess’s own grin faded.
“Whoa,” Abby said, barely suppressing a smile while holding her hands up. “That’s something for discussion later. You already have a puppy. Remember?”
“But Poofy is a big dog now,” Bella cried, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest.
A big dog indeed. At the sound of his name, the year-old golden retriever mix lumbered to his feet and crossed the kitchen to rest his head on her lap. He had to weigh at least eighty or ninety pounds.
“He’s not a fluffy puppy anymore, and he needs friends to play with,” Sophie added. “Lots.”
“What about Devlin’s dog?”
“Daisy lives with Uncle Devlin.” Bella pouted. “She’s not here. And she’s really, really big.”
“We could give a puppy to Uncle Devlin so Daisy has a friend, and then keep the rest!” Sophie beamed. “Right? Then Grandma Betty could have a friend too.”
“Great idea.” Tate grinned at them, charmed as always by their earnest appeals. “I’m sure Dev and Grandma would love that.”
Great-grandma had been too much of a mouthful for them to say when they first came to the ranch, so to them and everyone else, Betty was simply grandma.
“Do you have any idea of the trouble you’re causing? Big trouble. We’ll never hear the end of this.” Jess leveled a stern look at Tate. “And as your older and much wiser brother, I just have to ask. Does this mean you’re ready to settle down and stay home? It won’t be easy traveling to rodeos year-around with a dog.”
“That won’t be a problem. And yes, I’m still planning to move on. I’ll always need new towns ahead and the old ones in my rearview mirror.”
Abby raised her eyebrows. “So apparently the match made in heaven that Jess and Dev told me about…”
“Never existed. Sara and I were in the same high school class. Friends from long ago. Only that.” And if he kept telling himself that, maybe he would even believe it…in a year or two or three.
“But you two dated. Right?”
Tate shot a quelling glance at Jess. “Maybe for just a little while, senior year in high school. But it wasn’t serious. Sara had…ulterior motives that didn’t work out, and then she ended it. Which was fine with me. Case closed.”
“Ulterior what?” Abby looked between Jess and Tate. “What does that mean?”
Jess shrugged.
Tate took his plate to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher, then headed for the door. “Thanks for a wonderful meal, Abby. Tell Grandma Betty that I loved her apple pie and missed seeing her tonight. I hope she had fun at bingo.”
He slipped out the back door and headed for his pickup, glad to be outside and away from the gentle teasing and probing questions that flew across the table every time he joined Jess and his family for supper.
He knew it all stemmed from love and caring, the kind of camaraderie he was blessed to still have despite all of his years away.
But he wasn’t ready to discuss his past with Sara. Not with anyone. He’d been such a fool.
Their relationship as high school seniors had started out as just a ruse she’d planned, an attempt at a goal that had nothing to do with him.
Unaware of it, he’d been overcome with the heady emotions of an adolescent crush that had nearly destroyed him when he learned the truth. He’d fallen in love with her. She’d never felt the same. And at the end, it took all of his courage to shrug and walk away as if none of it mattered.
He suspected those wounds were with him still…silently warning him whenever a new romance turned a little too serious.
So what had come over him during Sara’s vet call? He’d seen many a stray dog over the years. Caught them and took them to no-kill shelters, whenever he could, or found a buddy who wanted a family dog.
But Jess knew him too well, and he was right. Tate had never, ever wanted to take on the responsibility of anyone or anything himself—not even a dog—which would just make his traveling life more difficult.
And yet, he’d taken one look at Lucy and he’d felt surprising warmth expand in his chest. He hadn’t been able to look away from the sadness in her eyes and drooping ears, or the way she seemed to cower with her head lowered, her tail feebly, almost imperceptibly wagging, as if she was still holding on to a thread of hope that someone might take her in. He’d never been so sure that a dog was his destiny.
Lucy had stirred in him an unfamiliar rush of protectiveness. Within minutes of seeing her, he’d known that he just couldn’t let Sara take her away.
After Sara left for another ranch call, he’d gone straight to town for the wormer and special puppy food at the clinic, then he’d come home to build a whelping box thickly padded with newspapers and a folded wool blanket.
Back when his rodeo buddy Jace got married he’d thought about settling down, as well, but he’d given up finding the right woman long ago.
Was his abrupt change of heart over Lucy—his unexpected new companion—a small sign that his life was going to change?
Foolish thought.
He gave a short, self-deprecating laugh as he drove home to the old Branson place.
The only big change in his future would be when he began his new career as a rodeo contractor. And that was just fine with him. Who could ask for anything more?
Seeing old friends at the rodeos. Travel. Excitement. A new town every week. It was a perfect life.
Or was it?
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