Rodeo Reunion (8 page)

She returned to the kitchen. Hunter wore a guilty smile. So did Slade. Both had gotten another heaping helping of the rotini and sauce.

Great. Another big overgrown kid. Just what she didn't need in her life. Best if Slade passed through their lives. And kept going.

* * *

Dogs yipped a cacophony as Slade pulled his truck next to a long barn.

A brunette wearing a long braid shielded her eyes from the mid-March sun as she stepped out to meet them. “Hi, I'm Ally.”

“Nice to meet you, Ally. I'm Slade. This is Raquel and Hunter.”

“I called a few days ago about adopting a dog for Hunter.” Raquel set her hands on Hunter's shoulders.

“Of course. We went over all the caring-and-preparing-
for-a-pet stuff on the phone, so it just comes down to which one you want. I'm glad the whole family could come. Picking a dog should be a family decision.”

“Um, we're not—” Raquel stammered. “Slade is a friend, our neighbor, Hunter's baseball coach.”

But he wanted to be more. Did that count?

“Oh, my bad. So what did you have in mind, Raquel?”

“I want a Great Pyrenees,” Hunter piped up.

“I'm afraid I don't have any of those. But I've got a lot of other nice dogs who need good homes.”

“My concern is this.” Raquel winced. “If Hunter and I see all the dogs, we'll want to take them all home. And we can't.”

“I understand completely.” Ally grinned. “That's exactly why I'm in the shape I'm in. Tell you what—give me an idea of what you have in mind and I'll see what I have that might fit your needs.”

“I'm not crazy about the puppy stage.” Raquel laughed. “So if we could skip all the chewing and jumping, that would be great. I'm thinking larger breed, but not necessarily purebred. And I want a gentle dog, a good playmate for Hunter that I won't have to worry about getting too rough.”

“I think I have just the dog. A yellow Lab. Two years old, past the puppy stuff. They're great with kids and she's a light yellow, so she's almost white like a Great Pyrenees. She's female and spayed. Is that okay?”

“I figure she'll spend time with Blizzard,” Slade whispered to Raquel. “Spayed females get along well with neutered males. Another male might want to fight.”

“Yes, but you and Blizzard won't be here forever.”

Ouch.

“Can we see her, Mom?”

“Sure.”

“I'll be right back.” Ally disappeared into the barn.
Barks intensified into a frenzy followed by Ally's soothing words too low to understand.

“She's got a big heart.” Slade scanned the long barn. “I wonder how she funds this place.”

“I don't know.” Raquel kicked at gravel as Hunter chased a yellow kitten. “Don't scare him, Hunter. Coax him to you.”

A big white dog rounded the side of the barn with a leash and Ally in pursuit. “She needs to work on her leash skills, but other than that, she's a great dog.”

A lonesome howl began in the barn and Ally cringed as Hunter petted the big white head. “I call her Snow, but you can give her a new name if you decide to take her home.”

Snow licked Hunter's chin and he giggled.

“What do you say, Hunter? Want to take Snow home?”

“Can we?”

“Sure.”

Hunter hugged his arms around Snow's neck. “Can we get the yellow kitten, too?”

“Um, I'm not sure he's up for adoption.”

“He is.” Ally smiled. “But your mom may not be up for that.”

“How is Snow with cats?”

“She doesn't bother them.”

“How is Blizzard with cats?” Raquel turned to Slade.

“Fine.” He lowered his voice. “But Blizzard and I won't be here forever.”

Her mouth tightened. “Well, I have a big unused barn perfect for a kitten. I'll take Snow and the kitten. Does he have a name? Is he neutered?” Raquel whispered.

“His name is Tigger and he is neutered. All of the animals I have up for adoption are spayed or neutered.”

“Could I ask how you fund this place?” Slade picked the kitten up.

“This was my family farm, so I own the property. My vet practice and pet gift shop pay the bills. I also charge adoption fees, which Raquel and I discussed on the phone. And I have a few local investors.”

“Do you—” Slade lowered his voice “—put any animals down?”

“Not unless they're too sick or injured to save.”

“I'd like to make a donation.” Slade handed Tigger to Raquel and slipped his checkbook out of his back pocket.

“That's wonderful.” Ally grinned. “I appreciate it—you can make the check out to Ally's Adopt-a-Pet.”

“Does Snow by chance have a sibling?” he whispered.

“Yes.” Ally flinched. “That's Flurry howling. I basically flipped a coin on which sister to show Hunter. They've never been separated. Poor thing. Several of the kids from the church youth group come by to walk and play with the animals each evening. I'll make sure she gets some extra attention tonight.”

“This should cover a donation.” Slade handed her the check. “Plus adopting Flurry?”

Ally scanned the check and her eyes widened. “It certainly will. Thank you, so much. Are you sure you don't want to see Flurry first?”

“Nope, Flurry's coming home with me. Blizzard needs company. And Snow can visit her.”

“I'll go get her. And I'll make y'all receipts.” Ally left them alone again.

Hunter paid them no attention as he cuddled and played with Snow.

“That was very sweet of you.” Raquel had the kitten purring.

“Too bad I won't be around forever.” He cleared his throat. “I mean—for Snow and Flurry's sakes. But maybe the next few months will transition them until I have to leave.”

In the meantime, he had to resist Hunter's innocent invitations. And Raquel's charms.

* * *

Slade scanned the hallway and saw the sign—Office. How had he gotten roped into this? Career Day for the eighth-grade class—talking pro baseball, when he'd barely gotten his feet wet in it. One of the kids on Hunter's team had an older brother, and here he was.

Hopefully, the kid wouldn't be disappointed when he showed up to encourage the kids not to depend on sports for their future but to have a backup plan. Just in case. Just in case they ended up like him.

He ducked into the office and a gray-haired lady looked up at him. “I'm Slade Walker. Career Day. Eighth grade.”

“Yes. Of course. You're in Ms. Newman's class today. That's four doors down.”

“Thanks.” He stepped back into the hallway just as a door marked Nurse opened.

Raquel stepped into the hall and her eyes widened. “Slade? What are you doing here?”

“I got wrangled into Career Day.” Slade shrugged.

“Ahh, I heard Mikey plotting that.” She shifted the files she held. “Have you checked in?”

“All checked in.” He pointed down the hall. “Third door down?”

“Fourth. I'm headed that way.”

Just admit it—he'd agreed to Career Day on the off chance of running into her. And it had worked. He slowed his pace to prolong their walk together.

He lived next door to the woman and saw her every Tuesday and Friday night. For the past two weeks, they'd fallen into a comfortable routine: Raquel cooked on Tuesdays and he took her and Hunter to Moms on Main on Fridays.

But on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and week
ends, he missed her. March couldn't be over with fast enough to suit him. At least in April he'd see her at games on Mondays and Thursdays, too.

Her heels clicked with each step and her perfume stamped its scent on his heart.

How had this happened? He'd tried to keep his distance. But Raquel was everything he'd always dreamed of. Smart, strong, beautiful, kind, a great mom and a great cook.

When March wrapped up, he'd be a month closer to going back on the circuit and leaving Raquel behind. He needed time to slow. Not speed up.

“Here we are—Ms. Newman's class.” She gestured toward the door. “You might pop your head in to let her know you're here, but when the bell rings, step back or they'll flatten you. It's like they all charge the corral at the same time.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Good luck.” She hurried down the hall, leaving him to stare—and dream. How had she wrangled her way into his dreams?

And sidetracked him from Tori? His sister was the reason he'd come to town, and after meeting her, he longed to tell her who he was. But deep down, he got the feeling he should keep his distance for a while and pray Brant would warm up to him.

So instead of thinking about Tori, he dreamed about Raquel. A woman he very probably could never have.

* * *

“Can me and Max sit at our own booth?” Hunter's question caught Raquel off guard.

Last week he'd sat with her and Slade at Moms on Main. But tonight Hunter had invited Max, while Lacie and Quinn had turned down her invitation—leaving her to sit with Slade. Alone.

“May Max and I?” She tousled Hunter's hair.

“You want to sit with Max?” Hunter frowned and Slade snickered.

“No.” Raquel rolled her eyes. “Your grammar.”

“Oh. So, can we?”

“May we? Yes, you may.”

“Tell me what y'all want, sport.” Slade turned to Raquel. “Then y'all can go ahead and find a booth, if it's okay with your mom.”

The boys rattled off their orders and even though Hunter loved cheese, once Max said cheese was yucky and not to put it on his burger, Hunter agreed.

“I'll pay for ours.” Raquel dug out her wallet.

“I'll get it. Tell me what you want and go have a seat.”

It was easier not to argue, so she told him what she wanted and went to supervise the boys.

Minutes later Slade claimed the seat across from her a few tables away from Hunter and Max's booth. “He's a great kid.”

“Thanks.” She kept her gaze on the table.

“He seems well adjusted to me.”

“He was so young when Dylan died. I worry he won't remember him.”

“I mean adjusted to the move.”

“Oh. Well, he became Mr. Popular when you agreed to coach his team.”

“How did you and Dylan meet?”

Her gaze bounced up to meet his.

“I mean, that is, if you don't mind talking about him.”

“I love talking about him.” She closed her eyes. “We met in the emergency room. He cut his hand on a rusty fence pursuing a suspect. It got infected and he finally came in for treatment in the wee hours of the morning when I was on duty.”

“Love at first sight?”

She couldn't stop the smile and nodded.

“Do you miss the emergency room?”

“No.” She swallowed hard. “I was on duty the night Dylan had his wreck. His mother had cancer and he'd been at the hospital visiting her. I didn't realize how tired he was when he left to go home. Thirty minutes later they brought him in on a stretcher.” Her voice cracked. “He'd fallen asleep at the wheel.”

“I'm sorry.” Slade covered her hand with his. “I didn't mean to bring up a painful subject.”

“You didn't know.” She swiped at her eyes. “There wasn't a thing I could do to save him and I decided I never wanted to feel that powerless again.”

“Looks like I'm just in time.” Brant's voice cut into Raquel's thoughts.

She jerked her hand away from Slade.

Striving for casual, Raquel turned her best smile on her brother. “In time for what?”

Brant's hardened gaze bore into the back of Slade's head. “Just in time to eat supper with my favorite sister.”

“Sure. Come join us.” Slade cleared his throat. “I thought about asking if you wanted to come at the ball field, but I figured you had a wife and baby to get home to.”

“My lovely wife texted me a few minutes ago. Lorraine's already asleep and Tori's going to bed, too.”

“Uncle Brant, come sit with Max and me.”

At least Hunter was attempting to work on his grammar. Why did the English language have to be so complicated?

“Maybe in a minute. I need to talk to your mom.” Brant slid in beside Raquel. “Hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“Of course not.” Raquel's cheeks heated. She wasn't exactly sure what Brant had interrupted.

T
oo clean, too comfortable, too churchy. Slade scanned the interior of the third church he'd visited during his sabbatical. Would he ever get used to a regular church again after spending so many years preaching in sale barns and arenas?

But the emptiness had begun churning inside him—proof his calling wasn't over. He needed to preach.

“Slade, you came.” Star scurried to his side, dragging a blond man behind her.

“You found me a house, lickety-split. Figured I owed my favorite real estate lady a favor.”

“Ahem.” The man cleared his throat. “I'm your favorite real estate lady's husband.”

“He didn't mean anything.” Star whacked her husband on the shoulder.

“No, I didn't.” Slade held his hands up in surrender. “Honest. If I'd been flirting, I'd have said something like ‘the most beautiful real estate agent in Aubrey.'” Why did
other men always think he was flirting when he was simply being complimentary?

“Wyatt Marshall.” The man offered his hand. “Sorry 'bout that. But when you're married to the most beautiful real estate agent in the whole world, sometimes you have to stake your claim.”

“Not if you keep sweet-talking me like that.” Star laughed up at her husband.

Great. Another bliss-filled couple to remind Slade what he was missing. But Slade remembered Wyatt from the circuit. And the Wyatt he'd known would never have stepped the toe of his boot in church. “I'm Slade Walker.”

“I know.” Wyatt tore his gaze away from his wife and turned back to Slade. “You pitched for the Texas Rangers.”