by Dora Hiers
****
“Tell me again why I drove thirty minutes to the middle of nowhere on my first day off in months?” Gravel crunched under Mason Mulrennan’s sneakers as he tossed his sunglasses on the dash and unfolded himself from the tiny sports car, a phone cradled against his ear.
He slid the seat forward and Goliath, his golden retriever, hopped from the back seat and scampered off to sniff the grassy yard.
“Because you’re my brother and I asked you to.” Exhaustion laced his sister’s voice, and he almost regretted teasing her. Almost. But he knew she wouldn’t be easy to live with for the next three months. Six months pregnant and already experiencing early labor signs, Angela’s doctor had just ordered extended bed rest. She didn’t enjoy sitting still, so how would she handle bed rest for that long?
Mason gave his head a little shake, feeling a twinge of sympathy for his brother-in-law, but easygoing Mike would take Angela’s hormonal mood swings in stride. He couldn’t have handpicked a better husband for his sister. She’d done well.
Much better than his choice for a lifelong partner. Look how that had turned out. He blew out a heavy sigh.
“You got me on a technicality.” He glanced around for some indication that he was on the right farm. A faded sign— Forever Family Animal Sanctuary —hung on the front of a huge red barn. “What’s the name of the place again?”
Computer keys clacked in the background. “Forever Family Animal Sanctuary.”
“Okay. Just confirming. Looks like I’m at the right place.”
His gaze lingered on the ancient dwelling not too far from the barn. An appealing name for the sanctuary, maybe, but the rough abode needed a lot of work on the outside to call it a home. Did the owner really live in a converted stable?
With arms folded and the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, he lounged against the car, keeping an eye on the wandering dog. The animal sanctuary might be in the middle of nowhere, but at least the place had a decent-sized barn and acres of lush green pasture.
Goliath sniffed along a fence line on the far side of the barn. What were those funny looking animals in the enclosure?
Mason leaned away from the car, angling around to get a better look, squinting against the glare of the bright sunlight.
Were those llamas? Cool! In all his travels, he’d never seen a llama up close. He’d make sure to snap a picture of them before he left.
“Besides, this is your baby.” His sister’s voice snagged his attention again.
“Not quite, Angela,” he sputtered. He knew what she meant, though. Angela handled the day-to-day operations of the Mason Mulrennan Foundation, a charitable organization he founded to raise funds dedicated to the protection of animals.
“You know I didn’t mean that literally, Mason.” Amusement accentuated her North Carolina drawl. “But I warned you when I first found out I was pregnant that you might have to handle the foundation’s urgent needs for a time.”
“Yes, you did, but—”
“Of course, when I said that I was thinking about after the baby was born. Not three months before delivery. But you know I’ll do what I can from home.” Her voice quivered.
“I know, Angela. We’ll make this work. No worries. You just concentrate on staying healthy for the baby’s sake. Let me take care of this.”
His sister was an excellent administrator, and their arrangement worked. He left the organization’s routine management up to her while she consulted him about controversial or high-ticket items. But, if something happened to him on the track, she was in charge, and he completely trusted her decisions. It was past time he showed her how much he appreciated her. That would start today, with taking care of this visit so she could cross this last item off her “must take care of before the baby” list.
“Thanks, Mason.” She sniffled and blew her nose. When she continued, her voice grew stronger. “I emailed all the grant applicants to let them know about the delay, but from the sounds of this grant request, it appeared as if the need for funds was rather immediate.”
“Immediate isn’t in my vocabulary.” He glanced sideways at the petite makeshift house again and scowled. The entire footprint would fit into his living room.
Maybe he could make an exception in this case.
“It is when you’re strapped in that racecar running a hundred and eighty miles per hour and you see that black and white checkered flag waving in front of you.”
“You got that right.” He chuckled. “I can’t deny that, Angela, but we’re not talking racing. Fans place their trust in us when they donate their hard-earned money to our organization. I like to mull over these decisions, pray—”
“Well, it’s about time you showed up, Doc. Let’s get this party started. I don’t think it will be long now.” A clear voice tinkled to caress his ear. Not Angela’s, and it didn’t come from the phone.
His head jerked sideways, and he fumbled with the phone, almost dropping it. He hoisted himself away from the car in one swift movement.
No. That sweet angelic voice belonged to a leggy jean-clad female who emerged from the barn, long brown hair floating off her back with the gentle breeze, arms weighted down with more stuff than a woman should rightfully be toting around. Not when a man was around to handle the load.
She angled her cowgirl hat toward the fenced enclosure next to the barn, where Goliath dug his snout into the ground, sniffing. “Snickers is right over here.”
“Look, Angela, I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m done here.” He disconnected and caught up with the cowgirl.
He bobbed his head once, acknowledging her, and held out his arms. “Let me carry that for you.”
She squinted at him, an odd expression taking over her smooth ivory face, but finally surrendered the load. Why was she carting around a ton of towels and blankets? And why the strange look?
“Not too often I see a car like that out here.” Cowgirl flicked her head to his sports car.
“No?” She probably didn’t see too many cars out here, period, but he didn’t say that.
She opened the gate and shook her head, flashing a pair of awfully cute dimples. She hitched her hat up with a slight flick of her wrist, and a glimpse of amber highlights sparkling from luscious green eyes caught him off guard.
Whoa! If he wasn’t careful, he could get lost in those eyes, but he aimed to be careful. His ex-wife, Lisa, had taught him all about love and money. Mainly, that a woman loved money, not necessarily the man that came with it.
“Most everybody around here drives trucks of some sort, or rides horses, not little beauties like that.”
Cowgirl crouched and stroked Goliath’s soft fur around his head, her short fingernails scratching the length of the dog’s neck. “What a sweetie!” she crooned.
Goliath raised his snout high in the air as a soft guttural sound came from his throat.
A familiar longing lurched to life in Mason’s gut. For someone to call him by a special name, with love shining from her eyes, instead of dollar signs. For feminine fingers to knead the tight muscles from his achy shoulders after a long day at the track.
He gritted his teeth and felt a huge lump crawl down his throat. He’d been there. Done that. And it hadn’t turned out so well.
She stood and glanced at him, those dark eyebrows arched as she waited for him to follow.
He hesitated, staring into her eyes, searching, more than a little excited to see those amber flints distinctly void of dollar signs.
She cleared her throat and dipped her head, waiting for him to pass through the gate.
Which he did. Eagerly. But at least he wasn’t waving his fluffy tail high in the air or grinning like Goliath.
A soft breeze drifted by, bringing with it the typical animal smells like dung and hay, but he also caught a whiff of her scent. Something spicy and floral. He liked it.
“I usually drive something else, too, but I left it at work.” A smile slid across his lips. Several something else’s a
ctually.
“Oh?” She looked surprised and a little suspicious but appeared to shake it off. She hummed, the sound coming from her throat quiet and pleasant.
She gave no indication that she recognized him. Did she not know who he was? Exhilaration and anticipation took turns causing a ruckus in his gut and finally settled there.
Cowgirl stopped walking, and he sidestepped quickly to keep from running into her with his load. He backed up, adjusting the supplies in his arms. Goliath lifted his snout in the air and wandered away again. Cowgirl didn’t issue any warnings, so he assumed llamas played nicely with dogs.
“Do you mind if I actually work on the delivery?” She pulled out a cloth from the middle of the stack.
“Uh—” Delivery? That earlier feeling of anticipation soured. He frowned. What was she talking about?
She flicked a towel on the ground and slid some gloves over her slender fingers. “Yeah. Snickers is fairly new here, and I don’t want to frighten her any more than she already is. Besides, this is my first llama delivery.”
A llama delivery?
He turned his head to the side and coughed.
His, too. For the first time in years, fear pulsed through his veins.
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About the Author
Dora Hiers believes that a person should love what they do or choose to do something else. She’s doing exactly what makes her heart sing and considers every day a gift. When she takes a break from cranking out heart racing, God-gracing romances, Dora enjoys quiet mornings sipping coffee on their mountain cabin deck and lazy afternoons in her hammock reading a great book. Life’s too short to be stuck in traffic, to drink bad coffee, or to read books with a sad ending. Dora and her real-life hero, a retired fire chief, make their home in North Carolina, but with a world full of amazing places to explore, that’s only a landing point. Connect with Dora:
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Dora also writes stories minus a distinct faith element but still sprinkled with hope, grace and second chances using her pen name, Tori Kayson. Clean and wholesome romance, no awkward bedroom scenes, no cursing, no need to hide the books from your kids or grandkiddos. Check out Sweet Romance that Sizzles by Tori Kayson.
Books by Dora Hiers
Potter’s House Series Two
Her Cowboy Forever
Her Christmas Cowboy
Her Covert Cowboy, coming February 2021
Tomlinson Brothers
Summer’s Reunion
Summer’s Redemption
Summer’s Return, coming in December 2020
Merriville Firefighter Heroes
Fully Involved
Fully Committed
Fully Surrendered
Love’s Time
A Time to Heal
A Time to Build
A Time to Embrace
Marshals with Heart
A Marshal’s Secret
A Marshal’s Promise
A Marshal’s Embrace
Cider Lake
His Valentine Promise
Her Valentine Vet
Flurries of Christmas Hope
Christmas on Mistletoe Mountain
Wishes on Mistletoe Mountain
Small Town Summers
Her Small Town Firefighter
Books by Tori Kayson
Kester Ranch Cowboys
Roping the Cowboy
Roping the Marshal
Roping the Daddy
Holiday Novellas
Kissing Santa Nic
