“I’ll be back as quick as I can.” She dug a stack of collapsed cardboard carriers from the storage closet, tucked them under her arm. “And thanks for all your help.”
“My pleasure.”
Ally stepped out. Cody seemed so serious. Had he talked to the owner? Would he sell her the land after all?
* * *
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.” Ally’s call was a gentle singsong as Cody watched from the barn window.
It took several minutes, but the cats started coming. From trees, from the roof, from the loft and from the woods. Soon she had them in cardboard kennels, and she pulled her truck near to load them.
Cody couldn’t stand watching her do all the work. It had nearly killed him to let Slade and Lance play dogcatcher while he stayed in the barn. It was daylight now—easier to watch for holes. He limped out to help.
“What are you doing out here?”
“At least let me load them for you, save you a little work.” He made his way to the truck bed.
“Fine.” She picked up a kennel. “Stack them in twos and make sure they’re stable. I don’t want them tumbling around and scarring their delicate sensibilities for life.”
“Cats have sensibilities?” He grinned.
“They most certainly do. Very delicate ones.”
“I guess if anybody knows about it, it would be you.” Cody loaded a kennel she handed him. “You looked like the Pied Piper out there gathering them all up.”
“Just call me the crazy cat lady.”
“You must be exhausted.”
“You, too.” She adjusted a stack of kennels. “I can’t believe the Walkers came over to help so early. How do you even know them?”
“Raquel’s first husband was a Texas Ranger and Mitch’s partner. A few years after he died, Mitch tried to fix us up, but neither of us was interested and she eventually met Slade.”
He slid another kennel in place. “Slade used to be a chaplain on the rodeo circuit, so I’d seen him around. They’re good folk. Since Raquel’s the school nurse and it’s Saturday, and Slade’s a preacher and it isn’t Sunday, I knew they could come without messing up the rest of their day.”
“I couldn’t even think of any of that. I was in panic mode.”
“Speaking of panic, I don’t mean to scare you—” A cat yowled at him as he hoisted its kennel on top of another “—but you don’t have any enemies, do you?”
“Not that I know of.” She stopped, caught his gaze. “Why?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Cody’s heart thudded. He really didn’t want to frighten her, but she seemed so oblivious. “Somebody had to have let them out.”
“But why would they?” She hugged herself. “I must have left a couple of the pens open.”
“Have you ever done that before?”
“No. But I’ve been distracted.”
True. The almost reprimand from the inspector. The land Cody couldn’t sell her. “Even if you left a couple of pens open, that doesn’t explain how thirteen dogs and nineteen cats got out. You don’t really think one of each got out, then nosed all the other locks until they opened like it happens in the movies?”
“Of course not.” She huffed out a sigh, shoved another pet carrier at him. “But I don’t know why anyone would let them out.”
“Maybe somebody wants to shut you down.” He settled the last cat in place, striving for casual, trying not to let her see how worried he was. “Think about it—you said your state inspector must have gotten a complaint to show up when he did, and now your critters are loose in the middle of the night.”
“But no one lives anywhere near here.” She spread her hands wide, gesturing to miles of endless woods and pastures surrounding their properties. “Just you and me. Who would want to shut me down?”
“What about Lance?”
“No. I’ve known him a couple of years. He’s a nice man, a member of our church.”
“Maybe he wants to buy you out?”
“He had his own clinic in Denton and sold it to work toward retirement.”
“What do you really know about Derek?”
“He’s a great guy. I can’t tell you how much it helped to have another set of hands on duty yesterday.”
“You’re sure he’s okay?”
“Positive.” She shook her head. “He has no reason to want to shut me down.”
“Maybe he wants his own practice.”
“No. He’s a tech. The only way he can do anything is under the supervision of a licensed vet.”
But Cody wasn’t so sure. Maybe he needed his Texas Ranger brother to do a background check on Derek. And Lance. Ally’s safety was too important to risk.
She was way too important to him. Way more important than he should allow her to be.
* * *
It felt good to attend the church Cody had grown up in. How many years had it been since he’d been here? When he’d visited home for the holidays while on the circuit, he’d often gone with his sister in Dallas, with his brother when he’d lived in Garland or with Grandpa in Medina. Over the years, he’d only attended his home church a handful of times.
As morning class dismissed, he caught up with Mitch. “Can we talk a minute?”
“Sure.”
Metal chairs scraped the tiled floor and multiple conversations started up.
Cody waited until the classroom emptied. “Can you run a background check on Derek Tatum for me?”
“Why?”
“I think somebody’s trying to shut Ally’s shelter down.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“This has to stay quiet.” She’d tan his hide if she knew what he was up to. “Ally’s worried it’ll hurt her shelter’s reputation.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Someone turned several of her animals loose the other night,” Cody whispered, even though they were alone.
“You’re sure it wasn’t a faulty latch?”
“Thirty or so faulty latches? How about Lance Bridges—know anything about him?”
“Isn’t he the other vet at her clinic?”
“Can you run a check on him, too?”
“I need probable cause, little brother.” Mitch folded his arms across his chest—his stubborn stance. “I can’t just run a check on random citizens because you want me to.”
“How much probable cause did you have when you ran a check on each of your wife’s employees?”
“What makes you think I did that?”
“I know you.”
Mitch’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Touché.”
Cody sighed. “I’m worried about Ally’s safety.”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thanks.”
The brothers exited the classroom, strolled into the sanctuary and claimed their seats on each side of Mitch’s wife Caitlyn. Old-fashioned pews lined the church with traditional hymnals in the book racks, and prisms of multicolored light radiated through the stained-glass windows.
Even after his years away, it was still home. New preacher, new Sunday-school teacher, new pianist, even a new song leader, but the same timeless hymns. He still knew most of the congregation, and a lot of the new faces he’d seen on the circuit over the years. But the most important member—to him—was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Ally?” Cody elbowed Caitlyn, trying for casual.
“She doesn’t come anymore.” Caitlyn grabbed a hymnal from the book rack. “Not since her dad died.”
“Really?” Why would Ally turn away from God after her dad died? That was when she’d needed Him most.
“You two are neighbors now. Haven’t you seen her?”
“Well, yeah. But we didn’t talk about church.”
The pianist played louder as a deacon approached the pulpit to begin announcements. “Welcome. We hope you enjoy our services today. All of the announcements are in your bulletin, but we have one pressing need. Our volunteer couple who’d signed up to supply animals and oversee the petting zoo at our annual church carnival had a family emergency out of town.” He checked his notes.
“Looks like they had most of the plans for the petting zoo in place, but with the carnival this weekend, we’ll need volunteers ASAP. We have several gentle horses, but we still need a few more small animals and two volunteers to oversee both. If interested, see our director after services.” The deacon turned the service over to the song director.
Ally could provide dogs and cats, and she’d probably know where to find more animals. Maybe he could talk her into volunteering to supply the petting zoo and help him oversee it. It would help the church, she might find homes for some of her strays, and it could get her back in church.
But how should he go about convincing her to agree?
* * *
At least the week started off quiet. Routine appointments. No emergencies. No state inspectors. No loose animals.
A tiny golden Chihuahua mix shivered in the corner of her crate. From nerves, not temperature. Ally fished her out.
“Poor baby Buttercup.” Ally snuggled the tiny shaking body against her chest. “My poor little runt. Your brother and sister found families, but don’t give up. You’ll get your forever home. I promise.”
“There you are.” Cody’s voice echoed through the long barn.
Ally’s heart sped as yips, barks and howls started up. She stepped out of the pen into the alley between the kennels.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Cody limped toward her, leaning on his cane. “It’s Labor Day. Don’t you believe in taking a day off?”
“Staying open was convenient for my clients who were off work today.”
“Well, since you like staying busy—” he stopped beside her, too close “—I have a proposal for you.”
Her breathing sputtered. Not that kind of proposal. And she wouldn’t fall for it if it was.
“Who’s this little guy?” Cody scratched the quivering puppy between her ears.
“She. Her name is Buttercup. She and two littermates were found in the baseball park this past spring. Her brother and sister were adopted, but she’s the runt. No one has picked her yet.”
“My sister, Tara, loves Chihuahuas and hers died a few months ago.” He lifted the puppy out of her arms and tenderly held the quivering body against his heart. “Maybe she’ll take this little darling.”
“She’s not all Chihuahua and that’s probably why she got dumped.”
“Tara’s not a breed snob. Who could dump a sweetie like this?” Cody baby-talked the puppy as she buried her nose in his neck.
“I don’t have a clue.” Ally’s frustration came out in her tone. “At least there was a ball game that night. One of the moms found them and brought them to me.”
“So which of these dogs and cats are homeless?” The chorus of barks had settled as the dogs got used to him in their midst.
“I keep the first twenty kennels on the left for boarding. Their people are gone on vacation or out of town for work reasons.”
“Their people?” Cody grinned.
“I don’t call them owners. We think of animals as our pets, so I figure the pets think of us as their people.”
“Why is she shaking? It’s not cold in here.”
“Chihuahuas have an abundance of energy. She needs a walk. I was just about to take her for one.” The Border collie–spaniel mix stuck his white-and-black muzzle through his fence and whimpered. “I know, baby. You want some attention, too.” She rubbed his snout.
“Can I take him for a walk?”
“Probably not a good idea with your leg. But you can sit with him if you want.”
“I’d love that. In fact, point out the ones who need some attention and I’ll take care of it while you’re gone.”
He certainly wasn’t making her heart grow any less fond of him by being so sweet and concerned over her strays. “You sure?”
“It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
“Okay, hit this side.” She gestured to the pens on the right. “Love on as many as you can or want to.”
“Will do.” He headed for the first pen, then snapped his fingers and turned back toward her. “I almost forgot my proposal. I went to our old church yesterday and signed you up to supply the pets and oversee the petting zoo for the carnival this weekend.”
Her neck heated. Was that steam blowing out her ears? “Without asking me?”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing and they needed volunteers fast or the whole thing was threatening to fall apart.” He shrugged. “They’d already advertised the petting zoo, so they have to supply it. And just think, it might be a chance to get some of your strays adopted out.”
“But I don’t go to church there anymore.” She propped her hands on her hips.
“I know. Caitlyn told me.”
“So did you ever stop to think maybe I’m tied up with my church this weekend? Or with work? Or with life?” Not that she had one, really, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Your church? You still go?”
“Of course I go.” She was a glorified pew warmer, just going through the motions, but she wouldn’t mention that. “There are other churches, you know.”
“I just assumed. Caitlyn said you hadn’t been since...”
Her dad died. Her eyes stung. “I haven’t. Mom and I switched to one in Denton.”
“Did something happen at our church?”
“No.” She sat down on a hay bale. “It was just overwhelming. Everybody was so sympathetic and sad for us. The sympathy almost smothered us. We wanted to go somewhere where nobody knew us. Where nobody knew Dad.” Her voice wobbled. “Where they didn’t feel sorry for us.” Where Ally could pretend she was still leaning on God.
The hay bale gave with his weight as he sat beside her. “They were sad for you because they care.”
“I know.” She swiped at her eyes. “It was just too much.”
He put an arm around her shoulders.
Ally’s pulse thrummed at his nearness. In fact, he could probably hear it. More than anything, she wanted to snuggle close, accept his comfort.
For a breath of a second, she let her head rest against his shoulder. But if she stayed, she might lose her heart. And he’d realize how she felt. But she couldn’t feel that way about him or any other man. Self-sufficient Ally didn’t need anyone. Wouldn’t allow herself to. She pulled away from him and stood.
“I’ll make a few calls, see if I can rustle up animals for the petting zoo.”
“And think about overseeing it? It starts after school lets out Friday and ends at seven. Then ten till three on Saturday.”
“Sorry, those are my work hours.” She scooped the puppy away from Cody, touching him as little as possible. “I need to walk Buttercup. You start dog-sitting while I go.” She grabbed a leash off the wall and strode toward the exit.
“Hey, Ally.”
“Hmm.” She stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Are you mad at me?”
Yes. I’m mad at you for leasing my land. For that stupid kiss and leaving me behind all those years ago. But she couldn’t tell him that. And that wasn’t what he meant anyway.
Her shoulders slumped. “No. But in the future, don’t sign me up for anything without asking me first.”
“I meant about the kiss.”
Chapter Four
Great. Cody held his breath. Maybe she’d think that break in his voice came from the awkwar
d subject.
“What kiss?” Ally kept her back to him.
She didn’t remember? Had it meant so little to her? Could the same kiss that turned Cody’s world upside down be forgettable for her? Oh, how he wished he hadn’t brought it up. Especially since his emotions had betrayed him. But he had and he couldn’t let it drop.
“After your dad—I got carried away with comforting you. I was a kid and you were so close to me. You smelled good and I just wanted to make you feel better.” You smelled good? Just shut up, Warren. Before you say something else stupid and make it even worse.
“It didn’t mean anything.” Her response was little more than a whisper.
“I know.” To her, anyway. His heart crashed on the concrete between his boots. “I just want you to know—you’re safe from me. So if you ever need a shoulder, I’m not a kid anymore. I can do just comfort.”
“Good to know.” She latched the leash on Buttercup’s collar and vaulted out of the barn.
Cody stood and looked skyward. “You’re safe from me?” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. It sounded dumb, and with everything in him, he wanted to take it back.
But at least maybe things would be easier between them now. He’d help her with her animals and, if she agreed, the carnival so her strays might be adopted. And deep down, so he could spend time with her.
On top of everything else, he’d lied to her. He hadn’t signed her up for the petting zoo. But telling her he had was the only way he could think of to convince her to participate. But, Lord, it’s for Your good. It’ll help the church. And maybe some of Ally’s strays will find a home. So yes, I lied and I’m doing it for the wrong reasons, but You can take my selfish intentions and work them for good.
The Border collie whimpered.
“Hey, guy. What’s your name?” Cody read the plate by the gate. “Oreo.” He unlatched the pen and stepped inside. In the corner, he sat on a chair and the dog reared up on his knees. “A fitting name.”
Ally was the kind of woman who named each stray. The kind of woman he could spend the rest of his life with. But how much life did he have left?
He had to be satisfied with being her friend. Only her friend.
Oreo settled his chin on Cody’s knee. “You wanna come home with me, don’t you, boy?” The dog’s ears perked up. “I think I’ll tell Ally to hold you for me until I get a bit more steady on my feet.”
Reuniting with the Cowboy Page 4