His Rodeo Sweetheart

by Pamela Britton

  Colt’s smile lost some of its luster. “I just hope I can be half the parent my sister is.”

  “Adam’s a great kid.”

  “She would do anything to protect him.”

  “I know.”

  “She deserves to be happy.”

  “She’s the reason I came back to California.”

  “Just make sure she knows that.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was a good trip, Claire told herself repeatedly as she drove through Via Del Caballo’s darkened streets. She’d picked up another dog to re-home and she’d dropped off a dog to a new family. That was the best part of her job and the reason she’d pulled every string she knew to become one of the rare kennels in the United States approved to re-home MWDs.

  Marcus would be proud.

  She tried not to think about Marcus and the shame she felt at having slept with Ethan. That was why she’d been such an emotional wreck the other day. She’d slept with a man and she’d had feelings afterward, serious feelings, and she didn’t know what to do about that.

  Colt had told her Ethan was back. Of course, she’d known that. He’d texted her and called. She’d ignored him. Colt had also told her Ethan had said he didn’t want the job back in Montana, something she was pretty sure Ethan wanted to tell her himself. She hadn’t given him the chance. She should have been relieved. Happy. Thrilled. Instead she felt scared, anxious and upset.

  “Mom, I’m tired,” Adam muttered sleepily as they passed between the electronic gates.

  That was the other bit of good news. While they’d been down south, they’d seen his oncologist. Adam had had another blood test and scans, and the results had been good. Zero cancer cells. Normal white blood cell levels. No growths. No evidence of disease, the doctor had said.

  Remission.

  It was within their reach. Oh, he would still need to see his oncologist on a regular basis, but those visits would get further and further apart until he wouldn’t have to go at all. Eventually. A long time in his future.

  The future.

  She didn’t want to think about that, or the fact that Ethan was back at the ranch, and that she would have to talk to him and tell him—

  What?

  She felt her eyes begin to fill with tears all over again, and it made her mad because she had nothing, absolutely nothing to cry about and yet that was all she’d been doing since he’d left for Montana. Lord, she still couldn’t believe she’d turned into a blubbering fool when Colt had told her they were expecting a child. She’d completely humiliated herself, and she felt horribly guilty because the news should have been a joyous occasion and instead she’d acted like a crazy woman.

  Somehow she got Adam into bed without waking him. It meant carrying him to his room and forcing him into his jammies before tucking him beneath the sheets, the new dog she’d brought home having to wait in the back of the van. Since it was night outside and cool, she didn’t worry. Instead she took a moment to observe Adam’s sweet, innocent face illuminated by the night-light in the corner of his Hawkman-themed bedroom.

  Remission.

  His blood work was news that should make her cry, except it didn’t. She hadn’t even told Colt or Chance yet.

  With a kiss on the forehead she headed back outside. The new dog greeted her with a canine smile and a wag of his tail.

  “Come here, Fido.”

  That was really the dog’s name. A joke on the part of the breeder, no doubt, but it didn’t make her smile. Not tonight.

  She went to work, switching on the kennel lights, making sure the new dog had water. Watching, once she turned Fido loose in Janus’s old kennel, to make sure he got along with the other dogs. When she was done, she went up to the animal.

  “I hope you enjoy your new digs.” She patted the dog’s head. “We’ll have you in an even-better home in no time.”

  She’d re-homed a lot of dogs in recent weeks. It was a crazy process. Online applications, background checks, references. The dogs, too, needed to be prepped. Health check. Spayed or neutered if that wasn’t done already. Travel arrangements. She could have had the whole place emptied out if she wasn’t so picky about matching the right human with the right dog. Sometimes she had a person come back two or three times before she agreed to the adoption. Sometimes it was just once—like Naomi.

  Naomi.

  The woman had sent her a video of her kids’ reaction when Janus had arrived. It’d made her bawl like a baby all over again. If she didn’t know better she would swear she was pregnant, but she knew for a fact she didn’t have to worry about that.

  The dogs grew restless, but that was to be expected given they’d just been introduced to a new roommate. One of them started to bark. Then another.

  “Lass das sein,” scolded a voice.

  Silence. She could hear his footfalls then, turned and sure enough, there he was.

  Ethan.

  “Hey,” she all but croaked.

  “You’re back,” he said.

  “What are you doing here?” She didn’t mean to be rude, but he was the last person she’d expected to see this time of night.

  “I saw the headlights on the road.”

  Had he? She didn’t think that was possible, but she wasn’t going to argue.

  “It’s late,” she said, hoping he would take the hint.

  “Why haven’t you returned my texts or my calls?”

  She lifted her chin. “What was there to say? Whatever your decision, it was yours to make, not mine.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “I know. Colt told me.”

  He appeared puzzled. “Then why didn’t you want to talk to me?”

  This was the conversation she’d been hoping to have tomorrow. The one that she’d known would be hard. The reason she’d been crying, she finally admitted.

  “Because I didn’t want to tell you that, go or stay, California or Montana, it wouldn’t matter in the end.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t do this, Ethan. I can’t...” She searched for the right words, the words she’d been hoping she’d have a whole night to find before facing him. “I can’t be in a relationship.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Great. And now he was angry, only that wasn’t the look in his eyes. No. He seemed determined.

  “I don’t want to hurt...” Me. I don’t want to be terrified of losing you. I can’t face another loss. “Adam,” she said instead. “He’s still so fragile healthwise. I need to focus on him.”

  It was a bunch of bunk. He’d be fine. At last she had started to believe that, and if she didn’t miss her guess, Ethan thought so, too.

  “You’re a coward.”

  She jerked upright. “I am not.”

  “All this time I thought you were so brave, but in the end, you can’t face the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “You’re afraid of falling in love.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You are. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Okay, fine. Maybe I am.”

  He took a step toward her. She told herself not to retreat. She needed to stay strong. This was for the best. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, resting his hands on his shoulder. “You’re not going to lose me.”

  “I’m not afraid of that.”

  Aren’t you? Isn’t that exactly what’s wrong?

  “Then why are you pushing me away?”

  “Because it won’t work out,” she finally admitted. “Because my life is too crazy.” Lord, it felt good to say the words out loud. “Because we hardly know each other. Because I have a son who has a tender heart and he’ll fall in love with you, too, and when it all falls apart, he’ll be hurt in the process.”

  “No,” he sa
id with a shake of his head. “It won’t fall apart. Have some faith.”

  “Faith.” She huffed in derision. “I had faith my husband would get better, and look where that got me.”

  He drew back, clearly surprised by the venom in her voice, but it felt good to let that out, too.

  “I had faith that nothing else bad would happen, but look at Adam.”

  “He’s getting better.”

  She ignored his words. “And before that. I had faith that my dad would change. That he would stop beating the crap out of me and my brothers, but he never changed. Even at the bitter end he was just as coldhearted and mean as he always was. You know what he said to me just before he died?” She swallowed back a lump of emotion in her throat. “He said maybe if I’d taken better care of my husband he wouldn’t have died.”

  It was as if she’d struck him. “That’s horrible.”

  “But you know what, there’s a part of me that wonders if he was right.”

  “No, Claire, don’t think that way.” He tried to pull her into his arms again.

  She stepped away, and damn it all, the tears were back. “He insisted Colt take care of him. He didn’t want me to do it because I’d done such a lousy job nursing my husband.”

  “He was sick in the head. He had to be.”

  “I know that. Just as I know I did everything in my power to help Marcus. I loved that man with every fiber of my being and I’ll never love another man like that again.”

  That hurt him. She could see it in his eyes and she wouldn’t be human if his pain didn’t cause her pain, too. Still, she lifted her chin as the truth finally came out.

  “I’m sorry, Ethan, but that’s the truth.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded.

  “Then I guess there’s nothing left to say.”

  “I guess not.”

  Still, he didn’t leave. They stood there in silence, crickets chirping in the distance, one of the dogs crunching on food, the smell of sage filling the air. These were the things she noticed when she broke Ethan McCall’s heart—because that was exactly what she’d done, and if she were honest with herself, it broke a piece of her own heart, too.

  “I hope you find happiness, Claire. I hope Adam is all right.”

  “He will be.” Because by the grace of God, she wouldn’t lose another thing she loved. Not ever again.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” He moved forward, and she could see that his hands shook and she knew she was responsible for that and it dug at her heart and made her want to vomit, but it was for the best. What she did was for both of them. He would see that in time.

  “Goodbye, Claire.”

  He kissed her cheek. That was all he did before he turned and walked out of her life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was for the best.

  The words were her mantra when the next day dawned. For the best, even though it felt like a divorce. He’d asked for Thor. She’d given him the dog without a qualm, but since he didn’t plan on driving out to Montana, he’d arranged for shipping. Thus the dog would be in her care for a few more days.

  It was Adam who cried when he heard Thor was leaving. Or maybe he cried over the loss of Ethan. He’d been floored by the news that his friend would be gone, and then had been so recalcitrant that it’d been hard to get to the bottom of his moodiness. She, however, had nothing to cry about. She was the one who’d ended it, and thank goodness, too. Look at how Adam had reacted. What if they’d been living together, or worse, married, and it’d all fallen apart?

  And would you have married him?

  It was the voice, the ever-present voice that had asked the question, the one she always ignored. She did exactly that once again.

  “Do you think he thinks about us?”

  There was no need to ask who Adam was talking about. They’d just been discussing Thor and the fact that he was due to be shipped out tomorrow. Mariah would be over later today to do a health certificate. Until then they were in the middle of cleaning dog kennels, the only bummer about being well again, Adam claimed: chores.

  “I think he’s too busy to give us much thought.”

  She received updates through Colt. Her brother and Ethan had remained friends and so she knew he’d already had his stuff shipped out from his storage unit, something he’d never done while living in Via Del Caballo, which just went to show that he’d never really been serious about living on the ranch. She’d heard he loved working with the dogs. That his new boss was a dream. That he was happy to be back in the same state as his parents.

  He had a sister. She hadn’t even known that. Funny how you could be intimate with someone and yet not even know the basic facts about their life.

  “What do I do with the food Thor didn’t eat?”

  She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed that Adam had moved on to the next kennel. That he stood in the outdoor run, a shovel in his hand.

  Food? “What food?”

  “The food in his bowl.”

  She just about dropped the shovel she’d been holding. Instead she rested it against the wall of the kennel she’d been cleaning, and then headed to Thor’s enclosure.

  “Doesn’t look like he ate any of it,” her son observed.

  No. It didn’t. She bent to examine the bowl. No ants. Sometimes they swarmed the food to the point that the dogs wouldn’t touch it. It wasn’t super warm out that day, either. Sunny, yes, but cool enough that heat shouldn’t have affected his appetite. She moved to the doorway of Thor’s dog run. The canine had assumed a position she recognized from before. Sad. Depressed. Not happy.

  “Shit.”

  “Mom!”

  She waved her son’s complaint away. Okay. So not a big deal. Thor was upset. Ethan had left. Thor probably thought he was gone forever, like his last master. There was just one little niggling fear. He’d coughed a little yesterday. Not a lot, and he’d quickly stopped, but it was just enough...

  “What’s wrong with him?” Adam asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m glad Mariah is coming later today.”

  Unfortunately, Mariah was as puzzled as she was. “His lungs sound fine. Are you sure you heard him cough? It wasn’t a gag on food or something?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Mariah frowned, her red hair so curly she looked like something out of a Disney movie. “Well, I don’t think he’s got fluid in them if you were thinking canine distemper, but there’s no way to know for sure unless I x-ray him. Did you feed him anything different?”

  She knelt down by the dog, her mass of red hair pulled back into a ponytail, her belly big enough it was a wonder she could get up and down.

  “Nope. Same food as always.”

  Mariah nodded, pulling out her stethoscope. “Any chance a raccoon might have gotten into it? Or maybe vermin? They can leave feces behind that can put an animal off the taste.”

  Claire just shot her a look before saying, “Mariah. Really. When have I ever not taken care of the food that I feed my animals?”

  “Just asking,” she said, moving the stethoscope. “Never hurts.”

  No, it didn’t, but she was grasping at straws. When she finished moving the stethoscope around, Mariah stood, and Claire could tell it wasn’t easy for her.

  “Lord, I feel like I swallowed a swimming pool.”

  Claire eyed her friend. “Not to be mean, but you look like you swallowed an ocean.”

  “And I’m only six months pregnant,” she all but wailed. “Every other woman I’ve ever known didn’t even look pregnant at six months, but me, no, I’m as big as a whale.”

  “A cute whale,” she placated.

  “Thanks.”

  She waited for her friend’s prognosis, but it took h
er a moment between bending back and placing her hands on her hips and moaning in complaint.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Really?”

  Mariah had the grace to appear abashed. “Everything sounds great. Good gut noises. His lungs are clear. Heart rate normal. I see no reason why he’d be off his feed.”

  “They why isn’t he eating?”

  “He’s probably missing Ethan.”

  “You think he’s pining?”

  “Maybe. It’s possible he ate something bad. Or that he’s choking from scarfing down too much food. Or that he’s caught some kind of bug. Unfortunately, that requires blood work and that I can’t do out here. I mean, I can draw it, but you might as well just bring him in. That way I can x-ray him if need be.”

  That was not the news Claire wanted to hear. Usually she could diagnose her own animals. Only in extreme circumstances did she have to bring an animal into a clinic. That it was Thor that suffered right now made it even harder to stomach. What would she tell Ethan?

  “When should I bring him in?”

  “Today, if possible.” Mariah stretched again. “Bring him in after I finish my farm calls. Should be around four.”

  She hated to wait that long, but she knew Mariah was the best in the business.

  A few hours later, however, X-rays didn’t reveal anything. No obstructions. No swollen organs. No crazy growths.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Mariah said as they stood in front of her laptop peering at the X-rays. “He must be drinking, because his electrolytes are still good. And the markers on his blood panel all look normal.”

  “He’s pining for Ethan.”

  “It’s totally possible, but it’s also possible that he has something going on inside that we just can’t see. Not yet at least. Give him a few more days.”

  She wasn’t happy with the news. “So no health certificate, then?”

  “Not yet. Not until he’s eating normally. I can’t risk that he might be coming down with something.”

  Just as she feared. That meant having to call Ethan and to explain the situation, something she didn’t want to do, but that she knew was a necessity as a responsible kennel owner.