by Jen Peters
Safe in His Heart
Jen Peters
Blue Lily Books
Copyright © 2019 Jennifer Jensen
Cover Art by Victorine Lieske
Published by Blue Lily Books, Blue Lily Publishers
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (recording, photocopying, mechanical, electronic, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the copyright owner. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law.
ISBN: 978-1-949876-15-4 (e-book)
ISBN: 978-1-949876-16-1 (print)
Safe in His Heart
She rescues stray dogs, but can she find a forever home for herself?
Robin Cooper’s favorite people are dogs. She’s learned the hard way that people can’t be trusted, and bullying has left its mark on her: her planned career is down the tubes and she’d much rather rescue strays and daydream happy endings than rely on people…until an unexpected encounter with a ranch hand makes her re-think her sheltered safety.
Cliff Jackson’s world fell apart when his father died and the ranch went to auction. He’s trying to get his head straight while working as a hand on his uncle’s ranch near McCormick’s Creek, Oregon. Then Robin Cooper enters his life with her smile, her compassion, and her magic around dogs. Could there be room for her alongside his grief and uncertain future?
Robin gathers her courage to start a local animal shelter. She’ll need funding, council approval and, most of all, Cliff’s support. But when the ranch has problems, Cliff is torn between helping his uncle and keeping his promises to Robin.
Will Robin retreat to her four-legged friends or choose love with all its risks?
Contents
Safe in His Heart
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Thank You
The McCormick’s Creek Series
About Jen
Chapter 1
Robin Cooper laughed as four rowdy dogs tumbled over each other, each determined to reach the orange tennis ball first. Chance and Buster shouldered each other, even though Buster was built like a linebacker while Chance was a lithe, greyhound type. In the end, little Augie dashed between their legs and emerged triumphant. Jello, the overweight golden retriever, hadn’t even made it to the tussle.
They were all rescues, abandoned by the side of a back road and found by Robin or her brother, Justin. Sometimes scrawny and matted, sometimes well-fed but simply unwanted. Robin brought them back, taught them some manners when needed, and set out to find new homes for them. It wasn’t their fault that their people had been uncaring and irresponsible.
Soldier, a three-legged German Shepherd, had sat stately by her side while the others played. They bounced back now, and Augie, a fluffy mutt, obediently dropped the ball in her lap. She ran her fingers across his curly head, pulled back her arm, and threw the ball again.
Unfortunately, Chance crashed into Buster just then; Buster knocked into her leg, and the ball flew over the side fence instead of toward the back of the yard. The dogs zoomed after it anyway, and Robin’s jaw dropped as Chance launched his lean, greyhound-type body to the top of the picnic table and over the fence.
“Chance!” she yelled, scrambling out of the gate while closing the other dogs in.
Chance was sniffing around the neighbor’s flower beds—loads of petunias, roses, hollyhocks, and a bunch of other stuff that Robin couldn’t identify but was sure would be crushed if her escapee kept going.
“C’mere, boy, time to go home,” she called, keeping her voice enthusiastic instead of scolding. The neighbor’s backyard wasn’t fenced and she wanted him to come, not evade her.
Chance looked up and started toward her, then caught sight of a squirrel in the front yard. Robin took off after him, through the front yard where the squirrel had quickly scampered out of sight, past three other houses, across the street, and four blocks toward the town center. She was far behind him when something caught his attention enough to make him stop. Or someone, to be precise—the elderly Beaumont twins.
Out of breath and nursing a stitch in her side, she approached the group with a smile. “Miss Lily, Miss Rose, how did you ever get him to stop?”
Miss Lily, plump and gentle and well into her 80s, grinned. “We’re taking cupcakes to Mr. O’Connell and saw your quite elegant dog coming toward us.”
“About to bowl us over, more like,” grumbled Miss Rose.
“Yes, dear. Well, we certainly couldn’t run to catch him for you, could we?” The dimple in Miss Lily’s cheek appeared. “So we gave him a cupcake!”
“Waste of a good cupcake,” Miss Rose said. “Mr. O’Connell could have used it for another ounce or two on his skinny frame.” She kept one hand on Chance’s collar while she petted him. “Don’t suppose it would hurt this boy here to have another few ounces, either.”
It was hard to believe the two elderly ladies were twins—Miss Rose was as wiry as Miss Lily was soft, in personality as well as build. Robin was amazed they managed to live with each other, but she supposed that after so many years, they’d learned the trick of it.
“Thank you so much—I really appreciate it,” Robin said, clipping the leash onto Chance’s collar. “I had no idea he could get out the way he did.”
“Racing heritage, I imagine,” Miss Rose said.
Miss Lily giggled, her soft peach curls quivering. “You could tie up one of his legs and enter him in the 3-legged race at the school carnival.”
Robin laughed and Miss Rose grumbled. “You are the silliest creature I’ve ever known, Lily.”
“Yes, dear, but it would be a sight to see, wouldn’t it? Now, let’s get Mr. O’Connell the rest of these cupcakes.”
Robin watched them go, Miss Lily chattering away and Miss Rose limping slightly beside her. “Come on, Chance, time for us to go, too.”
Back at home, she watched the dogs romp as they welcomed Chance back, then left them outside while she flopped on her bed with Augie. “Didn’t know I was so out of shape,” she said, giving him a tummy rub. “You’d think being on my feet all day would give me more endurance.”
She pulled out her phone to text Ree Swanson, her best friend, but it rang before she could start typing.
“Hey, Mr. Jackson. What’s up?” Robin stretched out on her bed, and Augie swiped his paw in the air to get h
er scratching him again.
“Robin, honey, I’ve got a stray dog out here that won’t stay away from the cattle,” came Mr. Jackson’s raspy voice. “He’s going to get his head kicked in unless you can come get him.”
“Sure, Mr. J. I’ll be right over.” She slipped her shoes on and grabbed her keys. “I’ll be right back,” she said, patting Augie’s head. “Maybe even with a new buddy for you guys.”
Robin tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, keeping time with her favorite Lady Antebellum song and wondering where in the world she was going to put another dog. Augie already had the run of the house and the spot on her bed. The four others spent the days in the backyard and the nights in the family room. Her mother would croak if she brought another one home before she found families for at least one of them.
She drove out of McCormick’s Creek, and as the hills opened up into the small Hawthorne Valley, she wondered again why she didn’t come out here more often. It wasn’t far, and it was beautiful—Mr. Jackson’s Double J Ranch filling the right side of the valley, a few houses close in on the left, and a lady’s horse ranch behind them. Lots of acres of pasture and alfalfa, dotted with livestock.
She pulled down the Double J’s long driveway and up to an old-fashioned red barn. There were other outbuildings, pole barns with metal siding, but this was the one Mrs. J’s grandfather had built. A round pen for training horses and a complex of cattle chutes stood to the side of the horse barn, with a two-story house across a wide, open space.
She didn’t see Mr. Jackson around the buildings, but there was a guy she didn’t know loading alfalfa bales from a flatbed onto a long hay elevator, and she figured Jory, Mr. J’s ranch hand, was the one hauling bales off at the other end and stacking them in the hay barn.
She watched the new guy load bales, whacking the hay hooks into each end and tossing them easily and accurately. He was lean, with a t-shirt sticking to him that showed off well-defined shoulder and back muscles. He definitely wasn’t new to this kind of work. She grinned as she watched him—she was in no hurry, as long as he didn’t turn around and see her. He tossed his dusty blond hair out of his eyes once in a while, showing enough of his face to make her smile some more.
Then he looked up.
A flash of green eyes caught hers. He set his hay hooks into a bale, pulled off his gloves and wiped an arm across his face, then hopped off the flatbed and approached.
Oh my. Robin took a step back.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I was looking for Mr. Jackson,” she said, stammering slightly. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. “He called and said he has a dog for me.”
He grinned suddenly, his blank face coming to life. “You’re the dog lady! I’m Cliff Jackson. Phil’s my uncle.”
She could only nod. He wasn’t model-pretty, at least not his face—his nose looked like it had been broken, and he had a slightly chipped front tooth. Hay dust coated his skin and gave him an overall gritty look. But there was a lot of life in his smile and oh, those eyes!
“So you’re going to take the stray?”
She swallowed. “Yup,” she finally croaked. “I’ve got a kennel I can put him in if he doesn’t get along with the others.”
Cliff looked at her. “Last we saw, he was over by the heifers,” he finally said. “This way.”
Robin followed him around the red barn and across a pasture to where a small herd of cattle milled around. She didn’t know an awful lot about cows, but she knew these were black Angus.
She looked where Cliff pointed and finally made out a grayish dog with a long snout and a bushy tail. “He’s a dog, not a coyote?” she asked.
“Yup,” came Mr. Jackson’s rough voice. “Glad you could make it so quickly. And he’s definitely dog. Has some herding instincts, too, and he won’t quit bothering them.”
She watched the dog for a few moments. He, or she, nipped at a heifer’s heels and agilely dodged her kick. “Got any ideas?” she asked.
“We tried bribing him with meat,” Cliff said. “Some old beef pieces that were too tough to cook easy. We figured he’d come to those, but he’s too wily.”
“Do you mind if I try?”
Cliff lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “Sure, anything to get him out of here.”
He trotted off toward the house, and Robin forced herself to look at Mr. Jackson. “How’ve you been, Mr. J?”
“Oh, can’t complain. Well, I could, but it wouldn’t change anything,” he chuckled.
“So Cliff—is he out for the summer?”
Mr. Jackson’s smile sank into a frown. “No, his dad—my brother—passed away this spring. They had to sell the ranch, but his mom couldn’t convince him to go to college. Doesn’t want to do anything but ranching. So he’s out here until he figures out just what he wants.”
“How awful. About his dad, I mean, not that he’s out here. But…his mom? Doesn’t she need him?”
Cliff came jogging up right then, holding a bowl with meat scraps in the bottom. “Good luck.”
Robin kept her face blank. He was all about the dog right now. Like she should be.
Mr. Jackson handed her an old rope, and she followed Cliff out to the heifers. They were nervous with the strange dog, milling about and bumping into each other. Cliff talked softly to them as they approached. She liked that—he obviously knew his way around animals.
As they worked their way to the side, a heifer lashed out with her hind foot, and the dog didn’t move fast enough. He yelped and leapt backward, then hobbled away on three legs.
“Oh no,” Robin cried. She took the bowl of scraps and hurried toward the dog. She slowed as she approached him, hunkered down low and called softly to him. “Here boy, I’m not going to hurt you.”
She held her hand out slowly, palm up, but he just looked at her with wary eyes. His ears flicked back and forth, and his muscles bunched to move.
She reached for a piece of meat and held it out, dripping juices. “Here, look what I’ve got,” she crooned. “You’re hungry, aren’t you? What a handsome boy you are, don’t you want some of this?”
She kept murmuring, focused on the dog and not knowing where Cliff was, only that she didn’t hear or feel him moving behind her. The dog had laser eyes for the meat. His nose twitched and he limped forward a few inches.
Robin mimicked him, and they closed the distance, alternating a few inches at a time. Finally, the dog snatched the piece of meat from her hand. He swallowed it in one gulp and backed off a few feet, his left hind leg hovering off the ground. She held another piece out, and he didn’t take as long to creep forward again. On the third time, she set the bowl on the ground and he let her slip the rope around his neck while he gobbled up the rest.
She knelt and crooned to him. The dog licked his mouth and over his nose, looked to her for more, then came forward to sniff her hands. He quivered as she petted him. She drew the rope snug, murmured some more, and stood slowly.
When she turned, Cliff was standing twenty feet back and grinning widely. “We couldn’t even get close before,” he said. “You really are the dog lady, aren’t you?”
Robin just shook her head and focused on the dog, but she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. “Dr. Jan can fix up his leg. Do you think you can carry him to my car?”
Cliff was gentle as he felt the dog’s leg, but it yelped anyway. “Might be broken,” he said. “We need—oh, thanks, Uncle Phil. Perfect.” He took an old saddle pad from Mr. Jackson and carefully eased the dog onto it. “What do you say, boy? Would you like to go get fixed up?” They headed back, and he turned to Robin. “I can go with you. You’ll need someone to hold him in the car.”
“Sure, that would be a big help.” She forced herself to keep this smile on the inside. Cliff might be cute, but guys like him were never interested in her.
It was a short fifteen minutes to Dr. Jan’s, but it seemed the longest drive Robin had ever made. The dog whimpered in Cliff’s lap, and just having Cliff
so near made time slow. If she were honest, she’d have to admit that it made her nervous. She was hyperaware of him, his small movements, his breathing, his very presence. She wasn’t sure how to react or what to say, so she didn’t say anything.
Cliff glanced at her once in a while, and she pulled up to the vet’s office with relief. “I can take it from here,” she said.
Cliff lifted his eyebrows and grinned, a dimple making its appearance. “You’re my ride home, so I’m in it for the long haul.” He carried the dog in like a crown on a pillow.
They skipped the line and were sent back to the first exam room. Cliff set the dog on the exam table, keeping a hand on him while Robin huddled over him, whispering sweet nothings. Dr. Jan came in shortly.
“Hey, Cliff. Don’t usually see you off your uncle’s ranch. And who do you have for me today, Robin?”
She shook her head. “Mr. Jackson called me—the dog was bothering the cattle. And the cattle got payback before we could catch him.”
“Uh huh.” Dr. Jan listened to the dog’s heart and checked his eyes, then gently felt his leg. “We’ll get an x-ray, but I’m pretty sure it’s broken. Hang tight for a few minutes.” An assistant came in, and together they put him on a cart and wheeled him out.
Robin and Cliff sat in silence for a moment. “So who pays for all this?” Cliff finally asked.
“Dr. Jan is one of the best people around. She only charges me for medicines and any lab work that has to get sent out.”