in the bathrooms in the house. Right now, however, we better find what animals we can while it’s daylight. I’ll try to get them back to the pasture by the barn, where you can do what you have to do and I can feed and water them. Can you stay longer?” he asked.
“Yes, I’ll stay. I want to save as many horses as I can,” she said.
“We’ll take the pickup now. Later, I’ll probably have to search on horseback because there are places on the ranch where I can’t drive. I may have to go buy a horse because none of these can carry me on its back.” He released a breath. “But for now, I’ve got rope in the back of the truck, some feed and a saddle if I need it, all sorts of supplies.”
“All right,” he said, “let’s get started.” He turned his truck and as he drove she looked for any livestock. They hadn’t driven a half mile when she gasped. “Luke, stop. There’s an animal. It’s a dog, and it’s dead. I think it looks like it might be Mutt.” With a pang, she remembered the dog that followed Luke around when he was home.
They got out of the pickup and walked closer. Luke knelt and ran his hand over the dog’s head. “Oh, dammit to hell. That’s Mutt. He was old and weak, and I guess coyotes got him.”
She knelt to look over the carcass more closely, and she hurt even more for Luke because this was the ranch dog that he claimed as his.
“I left him here when I went to California because the ranch was up and running and in good shape,” he said, his voice raspy with regret.
“The ranch was in good shape because you were here,” she said quietly, still looking at the dog.
“The guys liked him and he was happy here. I thought he’d be better off. He looks starved. He was old and weak, but something’s really torn him up.”
“Luke, he’s been shot. Someone shot him, and they may have done it because he was old and he may have been sick. There’s one shot and it’s a killing shot, so this wasn’t random or someone being mean. I think he was torn up by buzzards and coyotes after he was shot.”
Luke leaned closer to look as she pointed to the wound. “I hope he didn’t suffer. I loved the old mutt. He was a good dog.” He released a shaky breath. “I’m going to bury him. I have a shovel, and I’ll wrap him in a tarp and bury him back at the house.”
She heard the catch in Luke’s voice, and a lump rose to her own throat. They both stood, and she looked up at him. Without thinking about it, she touched his wrist again. “I’m sorry. I know you loved him.” The minute her hand rested on his, she knew she shouldn’t have touched him, even though it was obvious he was hurting badly. His wrist was twice the size of hers, warm, his wrist bone hard. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, and he gazed at her intently.
“I haven’t loved much in my life, but I loved him,” he said roughly, his voice grating and a muscle working in his jaw. She couldn’t get her breath, and she couldn’t understand the intensity of his gaze or his remark that he hadn’t loved much in his life. Was he just talking about a dog—or was there more to his statement?
She wanted his arms around her so badly it frightened her, and she stepped away quickly, going back to the truck. “Tell me if I can help,” she called over her shoulder.
She was breathing hard as he walked to the back of his pickup. Pulling work gloves from his pocket, he got a tarp to wrap the dog. In minutes, he slid behind the steering wheel and drove on in silence.
Why did it feel as if Luke had been away only days instead of years? Those empty years had vanished in too many ways. The worst part was the realization that she had never really gotten over him, something she had struggled desperately to do.
She had never felt this way for Tanner, and she had been engaged to him. Was it because Luke had been the first love in her life? Or did it go deeper than that?
They rode together in silence, only a couple of feet of space separating them in the pickup, but there was still a permanent, deep chasm dividing them.
He hadn’t loved her and he never would, so why couldn’t she forget him? She clearly meant nothing to him—that alone should stop the volatile reaction she had to him and the desire that still steadily simmered through her veins.
They bounced over the rough ground, and she looked around carefully, trying to see any sign of livestock. In another twenty minutes she spotted horses to the east. “Luke, over there.”
“Yeah, I see. They’re in a fenced pasture, so let’s keep looking and see if we can find some more and get them back with these. They may be in bad shape, but hopefully we can get them to the barn.” He continued to drive, and she gazed around, looking for any more signs of life.
“Luke, I see horses through the trees,” she said a few minutes later, and he swung the pickup in the direction she pointed.
For the next six hours they worked—rounding up horses, finding a few cattle, getting them back to the barn—trying to do it all while it was still daylight. When the horses were finally in the corral by the barn, the cattle in a pasture, Luke closed the corral gate and turned to her.
“You start checking the horses while I get feed to them. They’ve got water now in that tank. Shortly, it’ll be dark, so I’ll get lanterns out now and have them ready, and we can keep working if you can stay. If not, I’ll take you home. I’d appreciate your help if you can.”
“I can stay.”
He looked at her and reached out to hug her. “Thanks, Scarlett,” he said.
As his arms wrapped around her and pulled her against his solid, hard body, her heart thudded. His strong embrace made her tremble and want to wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly against her heart. How was she going to work with him into the night without stirring all those old feelings she had for him?
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