“Mo.”
I flinch at the mention of her name. “What did I tell you about saying her name?”
Coop frowns. “It’s been six years.”
“Is she hurt?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Is she in jail?”
“What? No.”
“Is she getting married?”
Coop opens his mouth, and I shake my head.
“Wait, I don’t want to know. Now move so I can go get my dogs.”
“What happened between you two?”
“Nothing. Get out of my way.”
“Suit yourself. At least take the car and leave the truck for me.”
We switch keys, and I climb into his Malibu.
As I pull out, I realize he’s right; I probably shouldn’t be driving. But the doctor said I shouldn’t drive, not that I couldn’t. And luckily, Animal Haven is only five miles from Coop’s house.
As the road spools out before me, I remember all the good things about being here. Making the decision to leave Heaven was difficult—not just because I was leaving my family behind, but because I left Mo behind.
Mo Gallagher. The girl who got away. Our relationship was a whirlwind. We fell hard and fast, but we both had big dreams, and we made a promise that when the time came, we’d support each other in the pursuit of those plans. Turned out her version of support was much different than mine.
Shaking my head, I try not to think about the past. Now I’m living my dream. Well, I’m not living it right now. Right now, I’m jacked up, but I’ll get back there. I have to; bull riding is my life.
My tires crunch on the gravel lane that leads to Animal Haven. The main building is tucked in the backwoods of Heaven. As I approach I see a large, red barn sitting off to the left that wasn’t there six years ago, and the trees I helped plant along the lane when I was a boy have grown exponentially. Animal Haven sits on about one hundred acres, and I know at one time Phil wanted to build a house out here. That doesn’t seem to have happened yet.
A small lane juts off to the right, leading toward a set of stables, and beyond that is a dirt path. It’s grown over now, but back in the day, Coop, Mo, and I would spend hours out there running through the woods.
Coming back here feels familiar, and familiar hurts. I put the car in park and climb out, and a movement to the left catches my eye. A woman runs across the open yard with two dogs. My two dogs. Duke is a German Shepherd mix, and Diesel is a husky mix. I picked them both up at an animal shelter in Houston a few years ago. My intention was to get one dog, but they were in the same cage, and it didn’t feel right to leave one behind.
The woman stops, zigs to the left, and when the dogs follow her she zags to the right and takes off again. Diesel jumps up, catching the back of her leg and sending her face first toward the ground.
Shit. I move across the yard as quickly as I’m able, praying she’s okay. Diesel bends down to lick her while Duke bounces around her in circles. She sits up and pushes Diesel off of her, and that’s when I hear it. Her laugh. My heart seizes inside my chest. I’d recognize that laugh anywhere.
Mo.
I can still remember everything about her—the way she’d thread her fingers through my hair before kissing me, the light smell of strawberries every time she entered a room. Her touch. Her taste. Her soft moans when I made love to her. Everything about her is so fresh in my mind that it’s hard to believe we’ve spent the last six years apart.
Monroe always loved coming out here and helping her dad, so I shouldn’t really be surprised to see her. I suppose that’s what Coop was trying to tell me. If my calculations are right, she should be about ready to finish up veterinary school, and I imagine she’ll soon be taking over Phil’s practice. Not only did her dad start Animal Haven, he also owns and runs the only veterinary office in town, Ruff Times Veterinary Clinic.
Mo must sense my eyes on her, because she turns my way, and the easy smile on her face fades. She pushes up from the ground, brushes her hands off on her jeans, and not once does she break eye contact.
Her long, dark hair is a bit of a mess, pulled up into a knot on top of her head as her green eyes move warily over me. She’s wearing tight jeans, a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and cowboy boots, and she looks gorgeous. Unable to help myself, I take a tentative step forward. She seems hesitant at first, but then she looks down at the dogs and says something. I’m not sure what—we’re not close enough for me to hear—but whatever it is makes Duke and Diesel two happy pooches, bouncing and jumping around her.
I can almost hear her sigh as she takes her first step toward me, and I use the distance between us to run my eyes over her body. The last six years have been kind to her. Much kinder than they’ve been to me, that’s for damn sure. Her chest is larger than I remember, and she fills out a pair of jeans in a way most women only dream about. I’m not at all ready to analyze the strange feeling stirring in my gut.
My eyes travel north as she comes to a stop twenty or so feet in front of me, and even from this far away, I can feel the magnetic pull that’s always between us. I take a step back because I don’t want to feel that attraction—or anything else that will make me see this woman as someone other than the girl who left me.
Monroe
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rhett Allen. I’ve been expecting you,” I say casually, even though nothing about this feels casual.
Rhett smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Funny, I wasn’t expecting you.”
At the sound of his voice, Duke and Diesel’s ears perk up, and when they see him, they go crazy. Their tails and butts are wiggling so fast, for a second I think they might fall over. As they charge him, Rhett steps back, using one arm to keep the dogs from jumping on him—the other is in a sling—and that’s when I remember his accident.
Not that I forgot because it’s the only thing I’ve thought about since that horrible night, but the sight of him standing before me rendered me stupid there for a few seconds.
I knew it would only be a matter of time before Rhett came for his dogs. I was prepared for that. What I’m not prepared for are all the feelings that have picked this moment to come rushing back. Some good, others not so good. Against my better judgment, I’ve followed Rhett’s career over the years, but I’ve tried not to think about him outside of his bull riding. It was hard at times, especially when his face showed up in a magazine or on a commercial. But I gave his brothers and Adley strict instructions not to tell me anything about his personal life, and for the most part, they’ve honored my request.
Every once in a while, Coop would let something slip during conversation, but it was always something simple.
Rhett remodeled his kitchen.
Rhett came to town to visit Mom and Dad, but he was by himself.
Adley and I visited Rhett and went to one of his events.
I like to think it’s Coop’s way of keeping me in the loop without keeping me in the loop. There were times I wanted to beg him to tell me more, but I knew I couldn’t go there. Losing Rhett was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through—right after my dad’s stroke and my mom walking out on us. For a while, in the back of my mind, I hoped we’d find our way back to each other, but I gave up on that years ago. Rhett is lost for good to the world of professional bull riding, to his fans, to his career—and it’s mostly my fault.
“Duke. Diesel.” I call to the dogs and take a few steps forward. “Down.” They’re both overly excited, but they listen to my command.
Instead of jumping up and mauling Rhett, Duke shoves his nose into his leg—no doubt looking for a special treat—while Diesel plops down at Rhett’s feet and rolls over in hopes of a belly rub.
Rhett looks up, clearly annoyed. “They listened to you.”
“They’re good dogs. Aren’t you a good dog?” I coo at Duke when he runs back to me. I give him a good scratch behind the ear and nudge him toward Rhett, who’s giving Diesel all sorts of love
and attention. Duke pushes his way into the fray, demanding some hand action, and I can’t blame either one of them. I know what it’s like to be the center of that man’s world.
It’s consuming.
And perfect.
And I’m losing my mind.
“Didn’t know you guys were in the dog-boarding business,” Rhett says, squinting up at me. He uses his right hand to shield the sun as he stands up. There are a million questions I want to ask about his injuries and recovery, but I refrain. The less I know, the better.
“We’re not.”
I pull the ponytail holder out of my hair and re-knot it on my head. Not because it was falling out but because Rhett’s gaze is intense. Too intense. And that feeling of excitement I always got in the pit of my stomach when he was near, well, it’s back.
Rhett tilts his head and smirks. It’s the same damn smile he used to give me right before he’d strip me naked and fuck me up against the wall. Only this time I’m older, wiser, and his smile doesn’t hit me in the same spots as it used to.
At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.
“Wipe that damn smile off your face, Allen. I didn’t do it for you.”
“Then who’d you do it for? Seems to me this was a sure-fire way to make sure you got to see me while I’m in town.”
Lord, give me strength. With a deep breath, I put my hands on my hips and pin him with a steely gaze. “I did it for Coop.”
He lifts a brow. “Is that right?”
“He was a mess after your accident, and he knew your entire family would be at the hospital. I didn’t want to cause them any more worry, so when he called, I volunteered to take the dogs.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself, sweetheart.” Rhett walks past me, his shoulder brushing mine, and I freeze on contact. It takes a solid minute to regain my composure, but when I do, I turn around and find him grabbing the dogs’ leashes, which I’d clipped to the chain-link fence.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m taking my dogs home.”
“You sure that’s a good idea, what with your arm and all?” I say, nodding toward the sling.
“Why is it that everyone seems to think they know what’s best for me? My dogs should be at home with me, not locked up in a kennel.”
I scowl. “It’s not that we know what’s best for you; it’s that we want what’s best for you. Big difference, buddy. And for the record, I would never lock your dogs up in a kennel. They’ve been staying with me. You’re welcome for that, by the way. Asshole,” I add under my breath.
“Were you doing what was best for me when you screwed Charlie Dixon?”
Once again, all the breath leaves my body. “Rhett,” I manage after a moment. “I—”
Lowering his head, he rubs a hand over his face. “Shit. I didn’t mean to say that.” He looks up at me. “I appreciate you taking care of the dogs, and you’re right, I probably shouldn’t take them back to Coop’s with me. I can barely wipe my own ass, let alone take care of these crazies.”
I can’t help it. Despite every protest, I grin. “I can’t help you with the ass wiping, but I’m more than willing to keep the dogs.”
“You sure I can’t talk you in to the ass wiping?” he asks, turning to hang the leashes back on the fence.
“Not a chance in hell.” I laugh, and it feels good. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. “I like you, but not that much.”
“You like me, huh?”
And there’s that smile again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think all the shit that happened between us doesn’t matter. Except it does, because this cowboy broke my heart, and I’m damn sure I did the same to him—the mention of Charlie Dixon proves that.
“You know what I mean.” Swallowing hard, I meet Rhett’s eyes. “I’ve always liked you; that was never the problem.”
I open the door to my truck, but Duke and Diesel hesitate to jump in. When Rhett motions for them to do so, they listen, and I shut the door.
“I should get going. I’ve got a ton of errands to run today.”
He nods, slowly backing away.
I think about Rhett sitting next to me in the truck, about being surrounded by his husky scent, and I go out on a limb. “You can come with me, if you’d like.”
He shakes his head without even thinking about it. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” I nod. “You can swing by tomorrow about this same time if you want to spend time with the dogs.”
“I have physical therapy tomorrow.”
“Right.”
“Friday?”
“Friday’s good.”
“Okay. I’ll see you Friday,” he says, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.
The look in his eyes tells me there’s more he wants to say. I know we need to talk, about so many things, but today isn’t the day.
“Bye, Rhett.”
Before he can reply, I hop in my truck and pull away.
Monroe
After a long-ass day, I pull down Harris Street, put my truck in park, and stare at my childhood home.
The last few years have started to wear on the three-bedroom house. I tried to keep up with the landscaping and general maintenance, but with two jobs and caring for my dad, everything else eventually fell to the wayside. The once-black shutters are now a dull gray, paint has started to chip along the base of the house, and one of the wooden front steps is cracked. One of these days I’m going to fall straight through. Maybe then I’ll muster up enough energy to have it fixed.
The bushes are overgrown, covering the windows, and the swing on the front porch is leaning to the left. I’ve wanted to take it down for years, but the damn thing holds too many memories, so there it sits—dilapidating more each day.
Our home wasn’t always like this. When my mother was around, everything was bright, colorful, and full of life. But she left when I was eight years old, and nothing has been the same since. She couldn’t do it anymore—at least that’s what she told my father the day she went. My dad has tried his hardest to fill her role. There were moments he succeeded and moments he failed, but he never gave up.
When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to get away. Getting accepted into veterinary school was a dream come true, and those first few months in the dorms were everything I’d hoped they would be, until one day they weren’t.
I was sitting in Biology 101 when they pulled me out of class. My dad had suffered a stroke. I rushed home and the next few weeks flew by as he and I faced our new normal. He had right-side paralysis, which confined him to a wheelchair, and initially his speech was affected. Over the years, with the help of several therapists, it has improved. These days he talks slowly, but his words are clear, and in the disaster our life’s been recently, that is a miracle.
Against Dad’s will, I dropped out of school. It was either that or put him in an extended-care facility, and I couldn’t send the only parent I had left to a nursing home. He’d spent his life caring for me, and that’s a favor I was willing to return. We sold Ruff Time Vet Clinic to his partner, using the money to pay off hospital bills, pay his caregivers, and socking the rest away to help keep Animal Haven—who’s main source of income are donations and grants—up and running.
With Dad’s Social Security, my jobs, and what we have in savings, we manage to stay afloat. Every penny I make goes back into Animal Haven and toward bills, and on the rare occasion I have some money left over, I tuck it away for something special—which usually ends up being a beer or two with one of my friends. Although that hasn’t happened in a long damn time.
I close my eyes, and not for the first time, I think about what it would be like if my father lived in a facility that could manage his daily needs. I think about what it would be like to work one job rather than two and come home at night to a husband instead of being my father’s caregiver. But my gut twists at the thought, and I instantly feel bad for allowing my mind to go there.
&n
bsp; I’m in my late twenties now, and not once did I ever think I would still be living at home at this point. I should be preparing for graduation, lining up a job, and buying my first house. I should be thinking about finding a good, decent man, settling down, and building my future. Instead, all I think about is whether or not there are enough Depends or bed pads in the cabinet, and how I’m going to get Dad to and from his next appointment.
Duke pushes his nose into my shoulder, and I reach back to give him a pet. “I know, buddy, we’re going.”
Opening the door, I slide out, followed by the dogs, and make my way up to the front of the house, where I’m met by Sharon Daniels. Sharon is the mother I never had. I grew up with her daughter, Claire, who is now a first-grade teacher at the local elementary school. Growing up, if I wasn’t at home, there was a good chance I was at Claire’s. Sharon also happens to be an RN and one of my father’s caregivers.
Her husband died thirteen years ago in a fire, and since then, she does whatever she can to keep herself busy. Her sister Lucy also helps out with my dad, and they’re a godsend. I don’t know what he and I would do without them.
“How was Dad today?” I ask, shuffling the dogs into the house. Duke and Diesel sniff at Sharon and then head straight for their food bowls, which I have set up in the kitchen.
“Today was good. The weather was nice, so we got up and went for a walk around the neighborhood.”
“I bet he loved that.”
She smiles and nods for me to follow her into the kitchen. “He did. I think it wore him out. He’s back in his room sleeping.”
When I walk into the kitchen, I find the mouthwatering sight of a warm, home-cooked meal sitting on the table. It probably sounds stupid, but the thought of eating a home-cooked meal almost brings me to tears.
“Sharon, you didn’t have to do this. I don’t expect you to cook for me.”
“I know I didn’t, Mo, but I wanted to. I invited Claire over. She should be here any minute.”
“Thank you,” I say, wrapping her in a hug. “I appreciate it.”
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