Читать книгу The Bull Rider's Redemption - Heidi Hormel - Страница 11

Chapter Two

A howl lifted the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck. Not a coyote, though they did creep into town. Definitely a dog, and one in distress. Danny stopped for a moment, listening to figure out where it was. His own hound had died just after he’d stopped riding bulls. He hadn’t been able to make himself adopt another.

He moved as a whine echoed off the wooden facades of the buildings. The animal was definitely in pain. He stopped again, squinting down the sidewalk for the dog or someone looking for it. Whimpering drifted to him from his left, down a short alley that led to a parking lot. He hurried as the whimper scaled back up to a howl.

“Doggie,” a female voice said as he rushed down the narrow passage and toward the lot. He scanned the empty area until he noticed a woman standing near a Dumpster. The whimper changed to a growl. Didn’t she know what that meant? That was more than a warning.

“Hey,” he yelled. She whipped around as a dirty dog darted away despite a heavy limp.

“Darn it,” Clover said because, of course, it had to be Clover. “I finally had him cornered.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get bitten.”

“I have on gloves and I have a coat to cover him,” she said, moving past Danny. “He won’t have gone far. Could you call the police for help?”

“I’ll help.” They walked toward a narrow space between the buildings, too small for a vehicle but large enough for a dog or a person.

Clover pulled a tiny light from her huge purse. She shone it into the darkness. The dog’s eyes glowed, its teeth bared as he growled long and low.

Danny put his hand on Clover’s arm. “Wait. I don’t want either of us to get bitten. Give me the coat. You go around to the other end to keep him from getting away. But don’t go near him.”

“This is all my fault. He came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop—”

He didn’t want to hear her confession now. “Have you ever had a dog?” She didn’t answer. “I didn’t think so. I grew up around dogs and cattle and every other ornery animal there is. We have to be careful.”

She handed him her coat and jogged around the building. He waited for her to appear at the other end of the narrow passageway. The dog was whimpering again in a way that made Danny want to rush to him. Finally, he saw Clover and the dog did, too. It turned to her, and Danny moved slowly forward with the coat in front of him. By the time the dog looked his way, Danny was close enough to drop the Pendleton-patterned jacket over him. Clover hurried from her end of the lane. In the dimness, she whispered over the dog’s low growls and whimpers, “What do we do now?”

“Wait until he calms down. Then we’re going to use the strap on your purse to lead him out of here.”

“This is an Alexander McQueen,” Clover said.

“Do you want to save this dog?”

She didn’t reply, instead taking the strap off her purse, and two minutes later he lifted the brightly colored coat off the dog enough to reveal a dirty collar—thank God. He hadn’t been sure how else he would have gotten the lead on the animal. He clicked on the “leash” and the dog froze. Then Danny lifted the coat at the same time he pulled up on the lead to keep control of its head. After a few feeble attempts to snap, the fight went out of the creature. Its medium-length matted fur was mostly white with brownish-red patches and ears that drooped. Danny could see the gleam of blood on its flank.

There wasn’t a vet in town and the nearest was an hour away. But he knew who could help. Angel Crossing’s physician’s assistant Pepper Bourne treated humans; she could care for dogs, too. He hoped. “Clover, can you get to your phone?”

“Are you going to call the dog catcher?” she accused.

“I want you to phone Angel Crossing Medical Clinic and speak with Pepper Bourne. I bet she can fix him up.”

“Oh.” Clover sounded both confused and a little sorry. He gently led the limping and whimpering dog from the lane. He only half listened to Clover’s side of the phone conversation.

“Pepper says she can’t work on him at the clinic. Can you take him out to the ranch?”

“Tell her we’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you,” Clover said. She stepped forward. He moved his head a fraction of an inch, from habit, from want, and the peck she’d been ready to land on his cheek found its home on his lips. Like biting into the ripest peach, the taste of her exploded in his mouth. He pulled her close with his free arm. She didn’t protest. Her mouth opened under his and the peaches became spicy with need. This was not the kiss of fumbling, horny teens. This had nothing to do with their past at all. This was its own connection. One that Danny hadn’t known before. He deepened the kiss, explored her mouth and her amazing curves. None of it was enough because of this suddenly huge feeling between them.

The dog yanked on its leash and he stepped away. The ache and the need were not what he wanted. He hadn’t kissed her for that. He had kissed her because— “Let’s go,” he said, knowing his voice growled like the dog’s. He didn’t care. He was only helping her now because he couldn’t let this dog suffer.

* * *

“YOU’RE LUCKY I keep a kit here at the house,” Pepper said as she stitched. At least Clover assumed the other woman with a honey-colored ponytail was stitching, since Clover had stopped watching.

“We need a vet closer than Tucson,” Danny commented.

“I know. It costs us a fortune when we bring someone here for Faye’s walking yarn balls, aka my mother’s alpacas and llamas,” she said to Clover. “Hang on. This might be a problem.”

“What?” Danny asked anxiously. She remembered the dog he’d had when they’d first met. It’d had only one eye.

“She’s pregnant.”

“She? Puppies?” Danny sounded both stunned and aggrieved. “Who would dump her?”

Clover’s stomach lurched. She’d hit a pregnant dog? Jeez. If there was ever a reason to go to hell, that had to be it. “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

“I can feel them moving, so I guess they’re good. Since I can feel them, I would also say that she’s fairly far along. You’ll have to take her to the vet to know for certain. The wound wasn’t as bad as it looked. I’d keep her quiet for the next couple of days and come back in a week for me to take the stitches out, if you can’t get to the vet or her owner doesn’t come forward. Definitely keep a bandage on it in the meantime.”

If Clover hadn’t felt so bad for the dog, she would have laughed at Danny’s stunned face. “Thanks. What do we owe you?” she asked.

“No charge,” Pepper said. “Faye wouldn’t let me. This is Angel Crossing.”

Clover didn’t know what that comment meant. Danny lifted the dog carefully and carried it...her to the truck. Puppies. This had gotten complicated quick.

“What was the name of your dog?” Clover asked when they were on the road with the dog’s head on Danny’s lap, where she was snoring softly. The rest of her limp body draped across the old-fashioned bench seat of his pickup and half onto Clover’s lap.

“Which one?”

“The one you had when we met. He only had one eye.”

“That was Jack because of the eye.”

“I don’t get it,” she said after a moment of trying to make the connection.

“Like the card. The one-eyed Jack.”

A laugh leaked out. “You never told me that.”

“We weren’t big on talking.”

She couldn’t deny that. Most of their conversations had been about how to fool around and make sure no one found out. What a summer that had been. So exciting and happy and sad and scary, especially looking back and knowing that she’d nearly ditched college to be with Danny. And the kiss they’d just shared? The one neither of them seemed willing to acknowledge now. The dog whimpered, and she reached out to soothe her.

Danny spoke again. “We had a good time.”

She smiled because that was what she’d been more or less thinking. They’d been like that, finishing each other’s sentences, or he’d call her just as she got her phone out to call him. “It was a long time ago, and we were very young.”

“Not you. You were eighteen. A woman of experience.”

“That just meant I’d been somewhere other than a ranch or a rodeo. You know I was a—” She stopped herself because what she would say next sounded so silly and juvenile. They’d both been virgins when they’d finally been able to sneak off for a few hours one night. They’d done the deed. She’d refused to admit it to him or anyone else at the time, but it had been a huge disappointment.

“Two virgins do not a good night make,” he said. “It’s not polite to talk about other ladies, but I’ll just say I’ve learned a bit since then.”

“This is where I should say ‘me, too,’ but ladies definitely don’t say that sort of thing, as my grandmother Van Camp would remind me. My Texas grandmother... She’d say, ‘Thank God you’re only a heifer once.’” They both laughed. The dog yipped, and Clover rubbed her fur. The poor animal.

“What are we going to do with her?” he asked as he turned onto the main road to town. “I’ll check for an owner, but I’m sure she was abandoned.”

“I’m not staying here long and my New York condo forbids pets, even goldfish,” she said.

“I’ve got a no-pets sort of place, too.”

“You don’t have a dog? You said that a cowboy isn’t a cowboy without a dog.”

“I was sixteen.”

Teenagers were allowed to make pronouncements like that before they learned how the world really worked.

“You’re the mayor. Can’t you make a rule to allow you to keep the dog at your place?”

He laughed. “I wish it worked that way. Maybe Chief Rudy knows someone. The police know everyone.”

“You’ve really settled in here, haven’t you? I assumed you wouldn’t retire until you couldn’t walk anymore.”

“Not much choice when I became mayor.”

“How could you get written in for mayor? You weren’t actually living here if you were still competing.”

“Since Gene was here. Do you remember him? He kept AJ and me in line and helped us figure out the bulls. Anyway, Gene had a ranch here, so I decided this would be as good a place as any to call home. I gave this as my address. The next thing I know, I’m mayor. It all happened kind of quick.” He didn’t look at her, but she saw that he had his signature half smile. The one that had made her heart flutter—hers and every other girl in the arena.

“That still doesn’t explain how you wound up retired.”

“A story for another time,” he said. “What are we going to do with mama dog?”

Clover had grown up a lot since that summer. Danny’s charm—his kisses, too—didn’t make her brain short-circuit anymore. “She can’t come with me. You have to know someone who will look after her. I’d be willing to pay.”

His smile disappeared. “Money doesn’t solve everything, you know. That’s not how things work here in Angel Crossing. Don’t worry about Mama. I’ll figure something out.”

How could she have forgotten his pride? Prickly and strong. Maybe that was why he fit so well in Arizona. He had the personality of a cactus. “What I meant was that I would stop at the store and get food and anything else the dog needs. I want to help, even if she can’t stay with me.”

“We’d better hurry. Lem will be closing up shop, and he doesn’t care if it’s an emergency. He doesn’t reopen for anyone.”

“Sounds like you tried?”

“We were having a poker game and ran out of beer. Lem was at the game, so we asked him to restock us. We were going to pay. He wouldn’t even reopen for himself.”

“Hurry up, then.” She’d buy the food and then go back to her rental and go over which property owners her brother had indicated were highly motivated to sell.

“You go in,” Danny said. “I’ll wait here with Mama. Might need to come up with a better name.” He stroked the dog’s silky red-brown ears, her fur in crimped-looking waves. The animal sighed in pleasure. Clover could understand that. She’d made nearly the same noise when Danny had used his hands to—

“I’ll be back.” She did not hurry into the store. She had more dignity than that, and their shared summer was a long time ago. She wasn’t that girl anymore.

She came back to the truck with three bags filled with dog paraphernalia, which she was pretty sure she’d been overcharged for. She opened the door to put the loot in the truck.

“My God, woman, did you buy the whole store?” Danny asked as she shoved the bags in.

She stiffened. “I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed.”

He rooted in the bags. “A pink rhinestone collar? Lem carries these?”

“Obviously he carries them. Where else would I have gotten it?”

“Well, take it back. I’m not walking a dog with that kind of collar. The one she has just needs to be cleaned up.”

“Excuse me?” She couldn’t believe what he’d just said. He’d insulted her... She was pretty sure he had.

“I am not putting this collar,” he said as he dived into the bags again, “or this leash on Mama. It’s not right. She’s a ranch dog.”

“A ranch dog? You live in a tiny apartment, in a tiny town, not on a ranch.”

“I’m not using these.” He got out of the truck, lifted down the dog and tied her to the door handle so she was in the shade. Then he strode toward the store. She followed him.

“Danny, the collar and leash are fine. She’s a girl.”

“She’s a ranch dog, and she doesn’t need rhinestones.” He didn’t slow down. She continued after him and back into the store.

“Lem,” Danny yelled. “What the hell are you selling? I want a real collar and leash.”

“You know the rules,” the tall, skinny and stooped Lem said. “No returns.”

“That’s BS. There are returns when you’re selling us crap.” Danny glared at the man.

Clover had already guessed she’d been taken advantage of. But she felt it only fair since she was guilty of hitting the dog. Somehow getting gouged made her feel better about that. Like she was paying her dues. “I like the leash and collar.” There was that, too.

“Of course you do. You’re from New York City,” Danny said, as if she’d come from Sodom or Gomorrah.

“They’re girlie. And I’ve spent more of life in Texas than New York.”

“They’re ridiculous.”

“Not man enough to walk a dog sporting a few rhinestones?” she jeered, smiling at the image of him. He was not going to return the darned leash and collar.

“I was man enough for you, darlin’.” His tone said exactly what that implied.

She blushed, wanting to smack him because she could see the speculation in Lem’s eyes. She did not want to be one of Danny Leigh’s women. “That was when you were a bull rider. What are you now? Mayor of a dying town, living off your fading fame.” She’d gone too far. She knew it even as the mean words came out. She opened her mouth to apologize or maybe to suck the words back in.

The dog woofed as she came waddling and limping in. She went over to Danny, stretched up and grabbed the leash and collar from his hands, which had fallen to his sides with her ugly words.

Danny seemed to awaken and tried to pull them back. “No,” he said. The dog growled and yanked the collar and leash to her, showing teeth.

“Hell’s bells, Mayor. That your dog?”

“Just a stray,” Danny said. “A bitch who doesn’t know what she wants, apparently.”

Clover sucked in her breath. Even in their worst teenage fights, Danny had never called her that.