by Dora Hiers
“Thank you.” He set the brush down and took the mug and cookies from her with a wink.
How could he be so kind after she’d sent him to muck the stalls? She lowered her head, feeling awful. Her behavior wasn’t any better than Jumbo’s. “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
“It’s all good.” He flexed one arm, showing off the massive bulge under the taut sleeve. “I haven’t had this good of a workout outside of a gym in ages.”
The man could still joke with her? After the torture she’d put him through?
He devoured the cookies then downed the coffee and set the empty mug on a hay bale. Gripping Pocono’s halter, he led the horse back to the stall. When the vet returned, a key fob dangled from his hand.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but didn’t. Instead, his lips curved upwards in a delicious shy smile before he quietly issued an order to his dog. “Come, Goliath.”
Back tomorrow? Sure, he would. As if she believed that.
Remi propped a hip against the stack of hay bales and slid her hands in her pockets, watching the pair.
The dog’s flume of a tail curled in the air as the canine trotted alongside the vet. Then they disappeared into the tiny vehicle. The engine roared to life, and the sports car pulled away. As if the man couldn’t get away fast enough.
“Thank you, Mason.” Not that he could hear her now, but she felt better saying it.
Her phone vibrated against her fingers. She tugged it from her pocket, disappointment in her behavior kicking her in the belly. Why had she allowed those famous last words of her father come up to haunt her now? That so wasn’t fair to a guy willing to wallow in horse manure all afternoon.
She checked the screen name before connecting. Finally. The original vet. “Hey, Corbin.”
“Remi, sorry I missed your call earlier. It’s been a zoo around here. Pun intended.” Amusement mingled with fatigue in his tone.
She smiled but couldn’t bring herself to chuckle. With Mason’s departure, the light in her day had just waned. “It’s all right. We did fine without you.”
“I knew you would. How’s Snickers?”
“Mama and cria are great. I was worried at first, but the on-call vet showed up, and Snickers delivered shortly after that. No complications. Unless you count Jumbo’s normal behavior.”
Silence on the other end.
Her phone alerted her to an incoming call. Her brother.
“Listen, Corbin, I have to go. My brother is on the other line. I’ll talk to you later.”
****
Mason tossed the bundle of hay toward the males anxiously hovering around him, occasionally bumping and nudging his shoulder or back.
Several llamas started eating immediately. Every time he heard the occasional shrill hum, his head jerked up in a frantic effort to pinpoint Jumbo’s location, and he automatically backed up a few paces. Over the last couple of days working at the sanctuary, he had discovered that these llamas usually let him know when they were alarmed, but mostly their humming was their way of telling another llama to back off.
Freshly shorn again last month, Remi had explained the various products their fibrous coats produced. Most of them were multi-colored, but Jumbo stood out among the crowd, his chestnut and black fiber shimmering in the afternoon sun. Remi had done a fantastic job nurturing the giant back to perfect health. He was…majestic. Beautiful. Even if the fella was a little mischievous. That just gave him personality.
Mason leaned on the pitchfork, smiling at the scene before him. The llamas munched contentedly, and Goliath raced back and forth across the length of the enclosure, barking.
“I can see why Remi adores the bunch of you.” He ran his hand along a llama’s back and turned, headed back to the barn, gripping the farm tool lightly. Goliath raced, beating him to the gate.
He could hear one of the llamas lumbering along behind him. He angled his head over a shoulder.
Jumbo.
Mason quickened his pace and unlatched the gate, stepped through the opening and deposited the pitchfork along the fence. He plopped his forearms across the rail. Goliath sat on his haunches, panting, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
Long lashes and voluminous eyes, much bigger proportionally than the llama’s face, got up close and personal. The giant stared at him, solemn and expressive, so still Mason wasn’t sure how to react. Should he run or try to make friends?
His hand reached up to touch the strikingly vivid white “T” marking on the llama’s face, then he allowed it to drop away. Hadn’t Remi said that the llamas didn’t like to be petted on the face, only the neck or back?
“Hey there, buddy. Glad to see you’re in a cheerful mood today.” Even so, Mason decided it wouldn’t hurt to back up a bit. No sense in giving the big fella such a close target.
Tires crunched across the gravel driveway. A car pulled in and parked next to his truck.
Jumbo’s chestnut-colored ears flicked down. Arching his nose in the air, he emitted a shrill, piercing sound. The other llamas jerked their heads in Jumbo’s direction, naturally curious, but otherwise frozen in place.
Mason started backing away from Jumbo. That reaction couldn’t be good.
The engine stopped, and a door opened and closed.
Mason considered running, but how would that look to the person in the car? He’d never live it down.
He opted to turn around and walk away slowly, as if Jumbo weren’t on high alert.
A hiss was his only warning before warmth splattered his back.
“Not again.” He closed his eyes and groaned.
Hadn’t he just called Jumbo cheerful? Didn’t that count for something? He turned and glared at the ornery beast.
Which earned him another lashing. This time it landed on the front of his shirt.
Goliath let out a series of angry barks. At least the dog was smart enough to do it from a safe distance.
“Whoa! That’s some nasty stuff.” A female’s voice sounded behind him. She didn’t even bother hiding her disgust.
He knew that voice. Didn’t have to turn around to know that Nan Greenway with Athletes in the News stood behind him.
And…between him and getting to know Remi.
He blew out a breath. This day tumbled from pretty decent to beyond terrible in what, sixty seconds?
So much for his plan to get to know Remi outside the context of his wallet. The few days he’d spent on the sanctuary were sweet but not nearly enough.
How had Nan tracked him down? He’d warned his staff not to give away his whereabouts to anybody.
“Yeah. It is. You’ll have to excuse me for a minute while I go change.” Without revealing his face to Nan, Mason took his time ambling to the barn, Goliath trotting beside him. Once inside, he tugged off his shirt and retrieved a fresh towel from the stack Remi kept for this purpose. He tossed the soiled shirt in the heap, joining the others marked for serious disinfectant. More likely, the trash.
A quick swipe with a towel and a change of shirts would have to do until he could make use of Remi’s bathroom. Again. Had she noticed that he’d stashed a bar of soap in there yesterday? Something that didn’t smell quite so…feminine.
He grinned, but it slipped as he considered the sports reporter waiting outside.
“Might as well face the music.” Mason spoke to Goliath. Pocono slipped his head over the stall’s half-door.
Mason rubbed the horse’s ears then stepped outside, the still blue sky a direct contrast to the churning in his gut.
Standing next to Nan, Remi’s arms were folded across her chest and a boot tapped the gravel. Nan appeared to be doing most of the talking, the woman’s palms waving in the air, lips moving.
Oh, God, I had really hoped for more time with Remi. Is it possible?
Mason sighed and braced himself for the answer. He stepped over to join their conversation, situating himself next to Remi. Her subtle scent drifted his way. He took a d
eep breath of it. Might be the last one.
“Mason, have you met Nan Greenway? She’s a reporter with Athletes in the News.” Remi offered him a weak smile, but her narrowed eyebrows and rigid spine indicated she wasn’t happy about the reporter’s presence.
Now why was that? Had Nan already spilled the beans? Or did Remi have experience with the reporter who refused to take no for an answer?
Nan was a sports reporter. It wasn’t likely that their paths had crossed.
An idea flitted through Mason’s mind, building momentum. The animal sanctuary could use a little publicity, and Remi needed more volunteers. He could make both happen. Fame and fortune should be good for something, right?
“Yes, actually, I have.” He acknowledged Nan with a nod. “I think it’s awesome that you’re here to do a feature on the Forever Family Animal Sanctuary.”
Nan narrowed her pencil-thin eyebrows. Her severely painted red lips turned down.
“Come on. I’ll show you around.” He flicked his head in the direction of the llama paddock then turned back to Remi. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
Remi’s arms had dropped to hang limply along her too slim hips. He couldn’t read the unidentifiable emotion that glazed her face. Relief? Pain? Fear?
He stepped close and peered under the cowgirl hat.
Amber specks shimmered with dampness.
Anger had him clenching his fists and he forced his voice low, but it still came out stronger than he would have liked. “Did the reporter say something to upset you?”
Remi gulped but shook her head.
Well, it was only him and Nan on the ranch. What had Remi so rattled that she was near tears?
He nudged Remi’s chin up with his thumb. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good.” She blinked a couple times, but the tears never fell. She cleared her throat. “I’ll catch up with you when you’re done.”
“Count on it.” And he meant it. He wouldn’t leave the ranch until he found out why she was so upset. He turned and took a couple steps, intent on catching up with Nan.
“Mason?”
He stopped and angled a questioning glance over his shoulder.
Remi looked so dejected and lonely, as if it was just her against the world. A sudden urge to go back and tug her against his chest hit him with the strength of slamming into a wall at the track going a hundred and seventy miles an hour. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, fighting the temptation.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for being here.”
He shrugged. “No problem.”
But wasn’t it? Handling Nan for now only postponed the inevitable. He didn’t like deceiving Remi. Not that he’d ever volunteered the information that he was a vet, but he really needed to tell Remi that he wasn’t who she thought he was before someone else spilled the beans.
He clamped his lips together, the desire to keep quiet and the need to confess duking it out in his head.
Would admitting who he was mark the end of the beginning?
Or would she be willing to explore a relationship?
****
A rush of cool air breezed by, bringing the familiar animal smells of manure and hay with it. Remi lifted her head and breathed deep, comforted slightly, but unable to dislodge the strange feeling rolling around in her tummy, leaving her a little unsettled.
What just happened there?
Her gaze drifted to Mason. His wide shoulders looked capable of handling large animals and heavy burdens. His boot tapped a soft rhythm on the lower fence rail, and his muscled forearms rested across the top. Occasionally, he gestured at a horse in the far pasture or a llama, his face animated as he offered information to the reporter. He pointed at Jumbo, and a grin transformed his heavily whiskered face.
Remi found her resistance weakening to his casual, comfortable, and totally at home on the ranch vibe.
He’d been a tremendous help at the sanctuary this week. She still couldn’t believe he’d followed through on his word. How was his veterinary practice coping with his absence? Wasn’t he anxious to get back to his work responsibilities?
Just then, he glanced over his shoulder at her, and the grin softened, turning into something gentle and tender.
Remi felt the familiar tug at her lips whenever he was around.
A camera clicked. The reporter captured Mason’s tender expression for the entire sports world to see. Didn’t Mason know the reporter wasn’t here for the ranch? That Nan came here to interview Remi about her father?
Remi’s smile shut down, abruptly extinguishing the tiny flame that his smile kindled in her heart. She mashed her hands inside the pockets of her denim jacket and stomped to the barn, away from the reporter’s nosey questions, camera flashes and invasions of privacy. Away from the emotions Mason evoked, the emotional scars he made her face.
Mason was the first man —ever— to warm the icicles that encased her spirit worse than the metal bars that closed around a prison cell. He was the first man to make her question her father’s legacy.
That a man didn’t stick around when the going got tough.
That if her own father didn’t love her, how could she expect or hope for a husband’s forever love?
Thoughts and dreams of a lifetime commitment died years ago when they lowered her dad’s body into the ground. They might as well have lowered the casket lid on her heart, too.
Nah. The handsome vet wouldn’t stick around. Not after he found out about her father, and the publicity surrounding his suicide. Or the social phobia that had taken over her life since that horrendous day.
Mason would rev up that fancy sports car or that truck he’d taken to driving lately and leave Forever Family Animal Sanctuary in the dust of those high-performance tires.
And she wouldn’t blame him. The media wasn’t kind or forgiving, and they would pummel his vet practice just for associating with her. Just like the media had blasted Remi’s mother, blaming Lessa for her husband’s suicide, practically burning her at the stake.
No, Remi wouldn’t want anybody to go through the public humiliation that her entire family suffered from the media’s invasion. Especially not a sweet, gentle man like Mason.
She swiped at her wet cheeks with a denim sleeve. When she reached the barn door, she turned for one last glance at the attractive man. He’d followed her progress, the lopsided smile still on his face.
Yeah, it was probably best if she stayed clear of the vet.
3
“That should do it for this week. Thanks, Ram.” Remi lifted the tailgate lid to the ancient truck and slammed it in place. The entire frame trembled.
“You’ll need to be replacing this here truck before long, Ms. Remi.” The owner of the animal supply store chuckled as he ripped off his work gloves. Ram tapped them on the top of the tailgate with one hand and rubbed the gray stubble lining his jaws with the other. He tugged the cap that perpetually hid the upper half of his face down.
Remi didn’t mind. Somehow, not being able to see into his eyes made her feel less vulnerable around him, made her trips into town for supplies more tolerable.
“Yeah. I know.” Remi stared at the dent-ridden black utility truck. How much longer could she count on the clunker to run? This afternoon she’d dig a little more into grant opportunities for vehicles. Maybe she’d find something that she missed in her research earlier this week.
She sighed. The livestock ate right through her cash flow, leaving little left for things like working vehicles or sprucing up the house. Even so, she wouldn’t trade any of them for a nicer truck or house. She’d just have to make do and keep applying. “Well, I better be going. Thanks again, Ram.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Remi. See you next week.” The man tipped his hat, tugging it even lower on his head, and hurried back inside the store.
Remi opened the door, gripping the keys tight. Her fingers itched to crank the engine and get the truck moving toward home.
“Remi, wait!”
Not likely, and she didn’t have it in her to be rude.
God, please, if You’re alive and real like Mason believes You are, will You help me shake my social phobia? The prayer, more like a sigh, bubbled up from the depths of her soul.
God hadn’t answered that prayer in nearly twenty years, and truthfully, she didn’t really expect Him to. Why would she think God listened to her or cared about what she wanted? But, in some small way, addressing her thoughts to God made her feel a little less crazy, less alone in the world.
Remi forced her lashes up and turned around.
Corbin Randolph rushed toward her. His veterinary clinic was located next door to the animal supply store. He’d probably seen her through one of the exam room windows.
Now that Mason volunteered at the sanctuary so much, she no longer considered Corbin her vet, but Mason wouldn’t be around forever. He had his own practice to take care of. Disappointment swelled like a balloon full to bursting, and hope deflated just as quickly. Guess she still needed to consider Corbin the sanctuary’s official vet.
The least she could do was thank him for sending Mason to the sanctuary. She hiked a boot on the truck step and waited for him. “Hey, Corbin.”
“Hi.” Breathing hard, he slid a hand through thick blond hair while his blue eyes flashed appreciation. He’d asked her out on several occasions, but she’d rattled off one flimsy excuse after another. He just didn’t seem to take the hint that she wasn’t interested.
Mason’s dark hair, the tiny crinkles lining his twinkling eyes, and his flirty-yet-shy smile flitted through her head. She tapped the truck with her boot, tamping back her frustration. She couldn’t be interested in him, either.
“Remi, didn’t you mention that an on-call vet showed up to help with your llama delivery?”
“Yeah. Thank you for sending him. He was a tremendous help.” Was? Is.
