by Liz Isaacson
All three men at the table stood and approached her. None of them stared and scanned the way the blond cowboy on the porch had. So they were married or otherwise taken. The woman turned down the music and gave Hazel a welcoming smile. She liked her immediately and recognized her from town. Her family owned Sotheby’s, a restaurant Hazel had frequented on at least a dozen first dates.
“I’m Dwayne Carver.” The tallest man extended his hand and shook hers. “I own this ranch.” He introduced his co-foremen, Shane and Kurt, and then nodded to the beautiful man with the baby. “That’s Dylan Royal.”
Dylan Royal. Hazel let the name roll around in her head, her attraction to him sparking through her like firecrackers. He handed the baby to the dark haired co-foreman, who passed the girl to the woman. Obviously they were together, and that baby wasn’t Dylan’s. The fact that he might be single and childless had giddiness galloping through her bloodstream.
“So I hear y’all have some issues with a wolf.” She followed them to the table, where Dylan opened a folder and proceeded to push pictures and papers around to the group.
“Our first instance was in March of last year.” He spoke with an easy, rolling voice that Hazel thought would be mighty fine to fall asleep to. She forced herself to look at the pictures, read the charts, and do her job instead of fantasizing about a man she’d just met.
He used his hands enough for her to see that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and though the other blonde cowboy wasn’t either, he clearly belonged to someone else.
“These are the pictures from this week.” Dylan collected the pictures he’d passed out and spread out a new set. “Fourteen cows lost in a matter of days, some in an area I’d checked a few days ago. It looked like they’d been dragged there.”
“Coyotes don’t do that,” Dwayne murmured.
“Which is why I think it’s a wolf,” Dylan said, not looking at her. “Or a pack. You can also see the difference in the claw marks in this picture, and this one.” He placed a previous one next to a particularly gruesome photo.
Hazel was glad she hadn’t had that grilled cheese sandwich with Jason yet. The pictures weren’t pleasant, and thankfully, Dylan gathered them and placed them face-down in the folder only a moment later.
“These charts show our loss, and how it’s escalating. We send crews to fix fences, and seemingly overnight, they’re down again.”
Only the low radio provided any sound now, and Hazel pulled out her phone to get the paperwork she needed. “Definitely a wolf,” she declared. “Probably more than one, as you’ve said, Dylan.” She glanced around at the group. “I’ve got a few forms that I’ll need y’all to fill out, and then I can start my case study.”
A frown pulled at Dwayne’s eyebrows, and he exchanged a look with the other men at the table. Hazel was used to the reaction. No one liked how “case study” sounded, because it meant, “boring and will take forever.”
“Wolves are protected in the state of Texas,” she said, her usual spiel. “So I’ll need to go out and see the site for myself, stay out there, see what I can observe about their behavior, and decide if relocation is the best option.”
“Relocation is the best option,” Dwayne said. “They’re killing my cattle. On my property.”
“There are only one hundred and thirteen Mexican wolves in the United States,” Hazel said evenly, her smile still stuck in place on her face. “That pack is in eastern Arizona and western New Mexico. So to have wolves here at all would be very, very interesting.” Her heart jumped at the chance to be involved in this case. “We don’t even know if it is a wolf.”
She looked at Dylan, his ocean-colored eyes locking on hers. “You didn’t see a wolf, right?”
“No, ma’am,” he said quietly. “I was just speculating because of the number killed in such a short time.”
Hazel glanced at her phone. “I just need an email address and I’ll get the forms sent to you. If you decide to fill them out and file, someone will be assigned to the case to come investigate the issue.” She met Dwayne’s eyes. “We don’t want you losing your cattle any more than you do, Mister Carver. The wildlife in Texas needs to stay wild, not depend on domesticated farms or ranches for survival.”
She smiled around the table, noting that only Dylan returned the gesture. He clearly wasn’t in a top position of power like the other three men. He probably worked the fence line where the cattle casualties had been happening, and he obviously kept meticulous records.
The detailed, organized side of Hazel really liked that, and she thought maybe she could get his email address or number before she left. He was definitely worth one date, and Hazel knew it would be a good one.
“I’ll fill them out,” he finally said.
Joy filled her and she typed in his email address and sent the files off. “There you go. Let me know if you need any help with them.”
He frowned at his phone, scanning and swiping quickly. “How do I get in touch with you?”
“My number’s at the bottom there.” She swept the crowd again, finding them all now watching Dylan. “Anything else?”
“Who’ll be assigned?” Dylan asked at the same time Dwayne said, “How long does it take to get started once we file?”
Hazel tucked her hair behind her right ear. “It takes two or three days to process the paperwork and assign a scientist. We have three mammologists on staff, and two of us are specifically trained in large felines and canus.” She nodded like she made the assignments herself. She didn’t. She worked cases assigned to her, and did visits like this one to see if a case was even viable.
She hadn’t wanted to come out here tonight, but now that she was here, she was glad she’d come. And Lesli would be so mad when she learned that she’d missed out on meeting a handsome cowboy. Just another reason Hazel was faithful to a fault with taking vitamins and washing her hands. It could’ve been her home with the stomach flu tonight instead of Lesli, and then she would never have been able to get her phone number to the blond cowboy still watching her with those eyes she wanted to dive into.
“Are you one of them?” Dylan pressed.
Shane coughed, bringing his hand to his mouth to hide his smile. Dwayne leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, halfway between amused and disgruntled. Kurt continued to stare at Dylan.
“I am,” Hazel said. “I’ve never been out to this ranch. It’s nice. Got a great vibe.” She stood and tapped the folder Dylan had presented from. “Make copies of those and send them in, and I’m sure your case will get approved.” She normally didn’t guarantee such things, but she could meet with Alan, push the issue, beg him to let her study the wilderness out here that had largely been ignored in favor of controlling the coyote population closer to Austin.
“I’ll see myself out.”
Dylan jumped to his feet and went with her, the folder tucked under his arm. “You really think I should make copies of all those pictures?”
“Just the charts,” she said. “You keep great records.” She stepped through the door and onto the porch. “You livin’ out here?”
“Right next door.” He pointed north. “I live with my brothers. Shane’s one of ‘em.” He nodded back toward the cabin they’d just left.
“I knew you two were related.” Hazel started down the steps and continued on toward her truck. “I hope I get assigned to the case,” she said. “Let me know if you need any help with the forms.”
Dylan stopped a few paces back and saluted her as she climbed behind the wheel and started her vehicle. She forced herself to back out and drive away, but she did check her rear-view mirror more than entirely necessary for a dirt road with absolutely no vehicular traffic.
She giggled as she went under the carved arch of the ranch, a prayer slipping into her thoughts that she really could be the one assigned to this issue at Grape Seed Falls.
“So I met a man tonight.” Hazel pushed a bit of chocolate ice cream out of the way, going for a chunk of banana covered
in melted vanilla and loads of caramel.
Jason’s green eyes came to hers immediately, and McKayla gave a little shriek. “Tonight? Weren’t you working?” Her spoon hovered in midair, where it had frozen with Hazel’s declaration.
“Yeah, I met him at work.”
“Oh, boy.” Jason snagged a big bite of all three ice cream flavors in the banana split the three of them were sharing. The shop had closed a half an hour ago, but they sat inside with all the lights still on.
McKayla slapped Jason’s bicep, and if they weren’t the cutest couple on the planet, Hazel might be jealous of their easy relationship. “Stop it.”
“What?” He looked at his girlfriend. “She won’t go out with him twice.”
Hazel dipped her spoon in for more caramel sauce. She didn’t like strawberry ice cream, preferring hot fudge with chocolate and caramel with vanilla. But Jason insisted on the purity of the banana split, with all three flavors of ice cream, as well as four flavored sauces: butterscotch, caramel, hot fudge, and strawberry.
“I’m thinking I might make an exception with this guy,” Hazel said.
McKayla dropped her spoon this time, the resulting clatter of metal on the table making Hazel jump. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What did you just say?”
Hazel shrugged one shoulder, her attention on the treat in front of her instead of the two people across from her. “He was really good looking. Smart. Organized.” She kept his dancing with the toddler to herself, finding it endearing and special, not something she blabbed to her besties the moment she left the ranch.
“So was Flynn,” Jason said. “He got one date. And Cooper. And Jasper. And—”
“All right,” Hazel said, giving him a glare. “They were nice, sure. Jasper was a great singer.” She remembered their single date to the karaoke bar in nearby Kerrville. “Very low voice. If the Bar J Wranglers hadn’t just picked up a new bass, he could’ve been it.”
“So good singing doesn’t earn a second date.” McKayla picked up her spoon, her auburn hair swishing as she swiveled to look at Jason. “There must be something different about this guy. Better than good singing.”
He looked back and forth between Hazel and McKayla. “Obviously. But what could it possibly be?”
“I haven’t even gone out with him,” Hazel said. “I barely know him. He doesn’t have any personal contact information of mine. It’s all through work.”
“Then why do you think you’d give him two dates when you haven’t done that for anyone in years?” McKayla asked.
“Years?” Hazel scoffed though she couldn’t remember the last guy she’d gone out with more than once.
Oh, but she could. And he’d taken her heart, sliced it up, and served it back to her in tiny pieces when he broke their engagement and left town all within the space of an hour. She didn’t need anyone to see the scars where she’d stitched her most vital organ back together. So she didn’t let anyone in.
“Since Peter,” McKayla said, speaking the unspeakable.
Hazel stood as if someone had strapped a rocket to her back. “Thanks for the ice cream and the company. I’m beat.”
“Hazel,” McKayla called after her as she started for the front door.
“It’s locked,” Jason said, and Hazel did a one-eighty, ignoring her best friend’s doleful brown eyes as she passed.
She made it around the counter and through the kitchen with only several long strides. Why did her breath still stick in her lungs after all these years? Why did Peter get to have that power over her for so stinking long?
She wasn’t getting any younger, and if she wanted a life in a cabin with a cowboy husband and a dark haired baby he danced with on their porch, she only had a few years left to get it.
She made it outside and pressed her back against the metal door. Drawing in a deep breath, she caught the stale smell of the air in the alley, trying to sort through what she wanted, how she felt, and why she couldn’t get the blue-eyed, blond-haired cowboy out of her mind.
Chapter Three
Dylan returned to the cabin in somewhat of a stupor. Had he been thinking properly, he would’ve gone back to his own cabin, put the file away, and headed back over to Dean’s to play ping pong.
“What in the world was that?” Shane asked, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth. “Did you fancy her or something?”
“Fancy her?” Dylan scoffed, heat rising to his face. Had he been that obvious? “Who talks like that?”
Kurt handed him a cup of coffee like he belonged in this cabin with these older, established men. Dylan looked at it and took a sip, nearly spitting it out when he said, “He’s interested for sure.”
“Come on,” he said. “I was just asking her questions.”
“Yeah,” Shane said. “Like, ‘how can I get your phone number so I can ask you to dinner?’” He laughed again and clapped Dylan on the back. “Hey, I’m not judging.”
“Sure seems like you are.” He fisted his phone before stuffing it in his back pocket. “I just might need help with the forms.”
Dwayne passed him with his own cup of coffee in tow. “Get them done as quickly as you can. If she has to come up here and observe, who knows how many more cattle we’ll lose?” He paused in the doorway. “And do you want me to assign you to this?”
Dylan blinked at him. “Who else would you assign? I’ve been going out to the far reaches for years.” Dwayne couldn’t take that from him. Could he?
“What if she doesn’t get assigned to our case?” Dwayne asked. “What if it’s some smelly old male scientist you’ll need to shadow for a few weeks?”
Foolishness raced through Dylan. “I’d still want this assignment,” he said. “Hazel has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, Hazel has everything to do with it.” Shane breathed her name out like Dylan had done such a thing. Of course he hadn’t. Had he?
His brother laughed, and he, Kurt, and Dwayne took their leave to sit on the front porch, sip their coffee, and talk about boring ranch business.
Dylan set his coffee cup in the sink and rinsed it out so May wouldn’t have to clean up after him. He exited through the back door so he could avoid any more ribbing and went on home to his empty cabin, his mind rotating from Hazel’s beautiful eyes to her obviously capable ability to relocate wolves.
He wasn’t sure which was sexier, only that he wanted to spend more time with her so he could learn everything about her. Then he could decide what her most attractive quality was.
The next day, his phone rang while he swung lazily in the hammock behind the guest house. He jolted from his near-nap, hoping it wasn’t Dwayne. The man had a way of sniffing out a cowboy that took a break for too long, and while Dylan had never really fallen into that category, he was slated to go out to the northern zones in an hour, and had to work until well into the night to keep an eye on the herd. He could afford a nap.
“Yup,” he said after he’d answered his boss’s call.
“You haven’t left yet, have you?”
“No, sir.” Dylan pushed himself with one foot to get the hammock swinging again. He loved Texas, couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
“Felicity has some food for you at the homestead.”
Dylan perked up at the mention of food and promised to drop by and get it before he left for the fenceline. An hour later, with half a dozen blueberry muffins for breakfast, and two BLT’s for dinner, he swung his leg over the ATV and set it northward.
He went along the paths between the alfalfa fields, saw the abandoned grove of peach trees, and passed three cabins before he even got close to his destination. The further from the ranch he drove, the less weight his shoulders seemed to be bearing up. And he didn’t even know why. He didn’t have a particularly hard job around the ranch. He liked all the men he worked with.
There was just something freeing about being out in the open wilderness, with no cell service, and no one to talk to. Just his own thoughts, his own self. A man and his God.
/> Please help our paperwork to go through quickly, he prayed, something that had been on his mind since that morning when he’d emailed in the completed forms. They weren’t hard, and he hadn’t needed any assistance from the lovely Hazel Brewster. He’d considered calling her, and then decided that there was no way he could ever tell Shane she’d caught him dancing on the porch with Greta and then called her to ask a question he already knew the answer to.
So he’d simply filled out the forms and submitted them, as if Hazel were the old smelly male scientist Dwayne had kidded him about.
And please allow Hazel to be the one to handle our case, he added. Might as well put it all on the line. It was just between him and the Lord anyway. Shane didn’t need to know.
He arrived at the cabin, which was in the best repair out of any on the ranch. Dylan knew, because he spent a lot of time in it, fixing it up and making it his sanctuary. Dwayne hadn’t approved anything, but Dylan had patched the roof so it was airtight. He’d cleaned the windows with vinegar until they were so clear he wasn’t sure if they were open or closed. He’d purchased curtains at the last Peach Jamboree—nice, manly curtains with horses and cowboy hats on them—and hung them over the windows.
He’d painted the front door white and the side door a baby blue that reminded him of Austin’s eyes. He’d refinished the floor inside and used some leftover barn stain to make it a rich, chocolately shade that gave the cabin an upscale feel.
If he had the time and materials, he could’ve sectioned it into more rooms, but since the cabin was mostly used by him or a crew of cowboys as they worked on the long fence lines that ran around Grape Seed Ranch, there was no need.
There were already two large, private rooms on the far side of the house, with a bathroom between them. Those doors closed and locked, and Dylan had left them as-is. The big room the front door opened up to held four long couches in neat rows, and honestly he sometimes preferred the one against the back wall to the cot in the bedroom.