by Lori Foster
Her features were... Well, they were strong. And like everything else about her, kind of a love or hate situation.
Cricket didn’t much care how she looked. She cared about what she could do. She was good at riding horses. She could run fast; she was strong. Her hair was a little bit wild, but she didn’t much mind. No, she didn’t mind at all. Because it made her look like she was moving. Made her look like she was busy. And that was what she liked.
That was the thing. As much as the Coopers were supposed to be rivals of her family, in some ways, she could identify a little bit more closely with them than she did with the Maxfields. They had country roots and sensibilities. That was what she understood.
It was what she connected with.
Country strong was hard to break. And that was what Cricket wanted to be.
It was what she was.
“I plan on making good use of Mr. Jackson Cooper,” Cricket said triumphantly, immediately picturing the man, his broad shoulders and large hands.
Good for work.
And a good place to start when it came to figuring out how to...how to broach the topic of what she thought might be true between them.
“Yes indeed,” she said to herself.
Her sisters exchanged a glance. “Just be careful.”
“Why?”
“The Coopers are a whole thing,” Wren said.
Cricket blinked. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You start talking about making full use of Cooper men, and I’ll tell you, it gives me ideas,” Wren said.
Cricket still didn’t get it.
“Sex, Cricket,” Wren said. “Some people might think you mean sex.”
Cricket was suddenly made of heat and horror. “No! No. Not at all. Never. How could you... Look, Wren, I’m not you. When I finally do decide to take on a man, and I’m going to need to get my actual life in order a whole hell of a lot better before I do, it is not going to be... He’s old.”
Among other things.
Wren laughed. “Right. So old. Like two whole years older than my husband.”
Cricket sniffed. “And I’m several years younger than you.”
Wren seem to take that as a square insult, her lips snapping shut.
Fine. Cricket wasn’t old enough to take age commentary as that deep of a wound yet.
“This is strictly a business arrangement,” she said. A fluttering grew and expanded in her chest. Evidence of her dishonesty. “He’s going to help me with my ranch. And that’s it.”
“If you say so.”
“I absolutely do.”
“The one thing I know about you, Cricket. When you set your mind to something, you do see it done.”
And what she had her mind set to, was finding out for sure if she wasn’t a Maxfield at all...
And hiring Jackson Cooper was the best way to do that.
Don’t miss what happens next in...
The Rancher’s Wager
by New York Times bestselling author Maisey Yates!
Available January 2021 wherever Harlequin® Desire books and ebooks are sold.
www.Harlequin.com
Copyright ©2 021 by Maisey Yates
SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
Read on for a sneak peek of The Summer of No Attachments, New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster’s new heart-warming novel of second chances at love and life, best friends, found family, and rescued animals.
Available July 2021 from HQN Books!
Don’t miss The Summer of No Attachments by Lori Foster, available July 2021.
The Summer of No Attachments
by Lori Foster
Ivey Anders shoved back a wayward curl and gently secured the dog against her body so it couldn’t move while her tech, Hope Mage, carefully clipped away the twisted wire. The poor thing, a stray by the looks of it, had gotten itself tangled pretty tightly and one hind leg was in bad shape. Ivey wanted to get it to the clinic where she could properly assess the damage.
Mud caked the fur, making it difficult to find any other injuries just yet, but there was one astounding fact Ivey couldn’t ignore.
Behind her, the homeowner groused that the dog had likely been stealing eggs from his chicken coop.
Voice calm, temper mostly in check, Ivey said, “You didn’t hesitate to call me, did you, Marty?” It was well known that Marty was not a fan of dogs, or cats for that matter, and mostly considered them a nuisance. However, they’d come to an agreement some time ago. Marty, who owned a fair amount of wooded acreage, was supposed to call her if a stray showed up, and she, as the local vet, would take care of the “problem” for him.
Laura, his wife, was quick to say, “I called.” Defiant to Marty, she added, “Soon as I heard the poor thing, in fact.”
Which didn’t mean much. The animal might have been there for hours. Possibly more than a day, though Ivey couldn’t bear the thought of that.
“She’s pregnant, you know.” Refusing to take her eyes off the dog, and unwilling to raise her voice since it might frighten the animal more, Ivey said, “If she took an egg, it would have been from starvation—and you already know I would have compensated you for it.”
Affronted, Marty grumbled, “I wasn’t worried about one egg, just don’t want to lose my chickens.” He cleared his throat. “If it helps any, I was out here this morning and she wasn’t caught then. Afternoon I watered my garden, and that’s why there’s so much mud. So I doubt she was hung up there more than a few hours.”
The fist around Ivey’s heart loosened just a little. “That helps tremendously, Marty. Thank you.”
More times than she could count, Ivey had taken on problems with animals. It didn’t matter that she’d been working as a veterinarian for years now, seeing all manner of hurt, neglected, or just plain ill animals.
She still loved them all, and when one hurt, she hurt with it.
“No thanks necessary,” Marty complained, his tone gruff with insult. “Not like I’d let an animal suffer.”
Ivey had a feeling their definitions of “suffer” varied a bit, but she realized this mattered to him, and she was too grateful to quibble so instead she just nodded.
“Almost got it,” Hope murmured, and with one last clip, the wire loosened. “There.” Fingers gentle, she disentangled the dog’s leg, exposing a painful wound.
All the while, Ivey murmured to the small animal, cooing softly, petting, and holding it secure. The second she was able to sit back on the muddy ground, she pulled the dog into her lap. With her face close to the top of the dog’s head, she whispered, “There now, that’s better, isn’t it? We’ll get you all fixed up, I promise.”
“Here.” Skimming off her zip-up hoodie, Hope offered it to Ivey to wrap around the dog. “Do you want me to get the carrier?”
Busy swaddling the dog, careful not to jar it, Ivey shook her head. “She doesn’t weigh more than ten or eleven pounds. I’ll carry her to the truck and we’ll see how it goes.” Feeling mud seep into the seat of her pants, she realized she had a new problem. She couldn’t get up without letting go of the dog—and she didn’t want to do that. Lifting a brow at Hope, she said, “A little help?”
“Oh sure.” Hope caught her under one elbow, and Laura hurried forward to take the other, giving her the leverage she needed.
Marty stepped back to avoid getting muddy.
Carefully, the two women got her on her feet. The thickened mud felt heavy on her seat, dragging on her stretch jeans that had loosened throughout the day. At least her rubber boots wouldn’t be ruined. Since they treated all sorts of animals, including those on farms, she and Hope each kept a pair at the clinic.
“Let’s go.” Plodding forward, Ivey led the way to the truck. Halfway there, the dog started panting. Concerned, she hastened her step. Instead of worrying about mud on
the truck seats, she had a new worry. “No need for the crate. Just get us back to the clinic.”
Picking up on her angst, Hope ran around to the driver’s side and got the truck back on the road in record time. “Everything okay?”
“Not really, no. Something’s wrong.”
“What should I do?”
Poor Hope. A sick cat had kept them an hour past closing, and then Marty had called... “I’m sorry.” Ivey barely took her gaze off the stressed dog. “Do you think you could assist me at the clinic?”
“Of course I will! You don’t even have to ask.” Now frowning, Hope muttered, “Did you think I’d drop you off with a dog in distress? Tell you good luck?” She snorted. “Have I ever done that?”
She and Hope were close enough that Ivey knew she’d inadvertently insulted her. “No, you haven’t. But it’s Friday night after a very long day.”
“It’s Friday night for you, too, you know.”
“What a sad situation for us both.” Despite her worries, Ivey chuckled. “Most women would have plans, and yet we never do.”
“You have Geoff.”
Ivey made a face. “Lot of good that does me.” Likely Geoff was settled on the couch already, involved in watching sports or playing a video game. The excitement had left their relationship a long time ago, so she doubted he’d notice her absence.
For her part, Hope never dated. That bothered Ivey a lot, but she loved Hope enough that she would never push her.
Smiling at her friend, Ivey said, “I’m glad I won’t have to do this alone.”
“Not ever,” Hope vowed. “Even if by some miracle I ever do have something worthwhile lined up for the weekend, I’d still be here for you, okay?”
Her friendship with Hope meant so much more than any other relationship Ivey had, including her lackluster romance with Geoff. “Smartest thing I ever did was to hire you.”
“I’m so glad you did,” Hope whispered. “Otherwise we might not have become friends, then where would I be?”
“Let’s just agree that we’re better off together.” Though Ivey was ten years older than Hope, they’d still hit it off from the start, meshing together as if they’d been lifelong friends. Where Ivey was outspoken and take-charge, sometimes a little too outspoken, Hope was an intent listener with an enormous heart.
Ivey often wanted to challenge the world, and Hope, sadly, wanted to hide from it.
Or more importantly, she wanted to hide from any interested men.
Hope had an affinity with animals, plus a gentle but sure touch. She was never squeamish, but she exuded sympathy. Ivey valued her. The clients loved her. And the animals trusted her.
Unfortunately, they were still five minutes away when the dog went into labor. “This is definitely happening,” Ivey said, doing what she could to make the animal comfortable.
Leaning closer to the steering wheel, Hope drove a little faster. “Be there soon.”
They’d barely gotten in the door when her water broke. Hope ran ahead to prepare an area, moving with practiced ease as she opened an already cleaned kennel and set up a whelping box, then filled it with bedding material. The box had higher sides to contain the coming puppies, with one lower threshold for the mother to step out for water and food.
Knowing Hope had it in hand, Ivey carried the dog to another area and began cleaning her as quickly and efficiently as possible. She managed a cursory job, removing the worst of the mud, when Hope rejoined her. “We’re all set.”
“With luck we’ll have enough time to clean and wrap her leg before she gives birth.” Usually that happened within two hours, so they didn’t have a minute to spare.
A day that had already been long just turned entirely endless.
* * *
One month later, bright and early on a sunny Monday morning, Ivey came into the clinic through the employee door around back. May in Sunset, Kentucky was a time for short sleeves, sunglasses and summer fun.
Ivey had the first two and she was working on the third in her own sweet time.
Honestly, she felt good. Better than she had in a while. Like she’d recently cleaned out her closets to get rid of outdated styles, or as if she’d shed ten unwanted pounds.
With a grin, she thought it was more like two hundred unwanted pounds. Named Geoff.
Things had been going downhill for a while, and finally, Friday night, she’d mustered her backbone and broken things off with him. What an awful confrontation that had been!
Later that night she’d second-guessed everything she’d said to him.
Saturday, with Geoff gone and her day open, she’d been at loose ends, wondering what to do next.
By Sunday she’d realized the freedom.
And now, Monday, she chose to see the world in a whole new light.
Geoff did not. He’d called twice on Saturday and twice on Sunday. Each time he’d started out cajoling, and ended up with nasty accusations.
Because she, awesome woman that she was, couldn’t be swayed. Not by a man who had taken her for granted.
Regrets? Nope, she had none.
For two years she and Geoff had been a thing. A loose thing. A thing with no real goals. A dead-end relationship type of thing that was more about convenience for him and uncertainty for her. It had left her unsatisfied—in more ways than one. It had left her uncertain about her own appeal. It had left her feeling needy, but no more.
She didn’t need marriage.
She didn’t need a partner.
Sex... well, okay, she liked that every so often, but that didn’t require a committed relationship. This was going to be her summer of no attachments. If she needed physical comfort, well, by God, she could “hook up” like so many people did. Find an attractive guy, one who could hold her interest for a few hours, and then move on.
It was her new motto. Freedom. Putting her desires first. It didn’t matter that she’d been born an old soul with no interest in partying or bars or clubs. In college, when everyone else had reveled on the weekends, she’s volunteered at a local shelter.
Now, being a beloved local veterinarian, her days were fairly mundane. Beloved, at least, by the animals she treated.
And once she left work, her evenings were mostly dedicated to Maurice, her aging cat. Geoff hadn’t liked Maurice much.
Maurice had felt the same about Geoff.
She should have trusted her cat. At fifteen, Maurice had very good instincts.
As she made her way through the clinic, she heard barking and smiled. Daisy, the little Jack-a-bee dog she’d rescued from Marty’s farm, still lived at the clinic with her three adorable puppies.
Making a beeline to the private kennel where Daisy slept each night, Ivey called out, “It’s me, love.”
Anticipation silenced the barking.
The second she opened the door, Daisy’s tail started swinging, but her big beautiful eyes were filled with wary adoration. The plump little puppies tumbled over one another in play, paying no attention as Ivey came in to sit close to the little dog. She scratched under Daisy’s chin and petted along her back.
“You’re such a sweet girl. Still so shy though.” Her leg had healed nicely, though she now had a scar. She’d been through so much, but from the birth of the first pup she’d been such an excellent mama. “What did you go through, baby, to make you so timid?”
Ducking her face, Daisy snuggled closer.
“It’s all right, love. You can be timid if you want. I don’t mind.” During the day, Daisy had free run of much of the clinic, as long as it didn’t involve the areas where other animals might run into her. The puppies were kept contained with a low temporary barrier across the bottom of the door frame. Daisy could step over it, but the puppies could not.
Sighing, Ivey figured Daisy would loosen up in her own time and not before. Hope would be in soon,
but until then, she opened the door that let Daisy and her puppies into a small enclosed yard with grass and sunshine, then she went about rinsing the water bowl and refilling it with fresh water, and putting out dry food.
Daisy went out the door to her favorite spot to enjoy the sunshine. The puppies followed, one happy to nurse, one chasing a fly, the other plopping down to nap near her mama’s neck.
There were plenty of enrichment items in the outdoor area, like toys, chews, and flexible tunnels, ensuring Daisy got exercise and the pups could learn.
Oh, how she’d miss them if... when, she found them homes.
Hope came in beside her. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” She knew exactly what Hope meant.
Hope followed Ivey as she headed inside to check the schedule. “You say the right words, but anyone seeing your eyes knows you aren’t going to part with Daisy, maybe not with her babies, either.”
Was she really that transparent? “It just bothers me.” Without waiting for Hope to ask, Ivey explained. “People see the puppies and automatically want one.” In a high false voice, she said, “They’re so little and cute.” Then with an eye roll, “They look right past Daisy, but she’s what the puppies will look like in a few more months. Puppies don’t stay puppies. If they don’t love the dog—”
Hope raised a hand. “You’re preachin’ to the choir, sister. If I was allowed to have pets in my rinky-dink apartment, I’d be all about Daisy.” She made a face. “And okay, the pups, too. Heck, I’d start my own menagerie.”
Ivey grinned as she watched Hope flip back her dark, baby fine hair. It was a gesture Hope used when making a point. A sort of “Hmph” moment.
“One day soon you’ll find a new place.” Not that Sunset had a lot of rental properties. Most people tended to buy their homes, but at only twenty-one, Hope wasn’t quite there yet.
