Chapter Twenty-Seven
E mily watched Lobo as he teased, taunted, and darted around the horse in the corral. The big black and white pinto did a lot of snorting and dancing, but it was obvious even to her, with her limited equine knowledge, that the horse was having a grand time with his new playmate.
They had moved the sassy horse up to the main Baylor ranch barn, which had the additional advantage of a larger attached corral.
She stood leaning against the fence rail, Jeremy standing to one side of her with his golden, Maverick, who seemed interested but puzzled by the actions of his canine friend.
On the other side was Tucker, also leaning on that top rail, and not quite as close to her as she would have liked.
She wondered if the distancing was intentional, or just because he was ready to vault the fence and go after Splatter if he had to.
She supposed that was the analogy she should have used, being ready for whatever a horse would do. But the driving one had clearly made sense to him, had eased that spike of tension she’d sensed, so it had been good enough.
After nearly an hour of romping, horse and dog rather calmly walked over to the fence where they stood.
Splatter reached out and nudged Tucker with his nose, and suddenly Emily was back to yesterday when the horse had hit him much harder, and he’d nearly gone down.
But clearly Tucker didn’t blame the animal, because he reached out and rubbed his knuckles under the horse’s big jaws.
Then he bent to pet Lobo, who despite the hour’s work had easily cleared the four-foot corral fence to come down beside them, although he was panting.
“Better get you some water, buddy,” he said.
“Let’s go up to the house. He can use Maverick’s bowl,” Jeremy said.
The boy darted off without waiting for an answer, both dogs at his heels.
“Quite a picture, isn’t it?” she murmured. “Gold and black dogs, both enthralled with that amazing kid.”
“He is amazing,” Tucker said. Then, as if on impulse, he said, “Come on. Maybe we can raid Jackson’s fridge for something good to eat.”
“He’s not there?”
He shook his head as they started that way, at a much slower pace than boy and dogs. “He’s over at the therapy barn. Special case came in he wanted to deal with personally. Kid who lost both parents in a car crash.”
“Ouch,” she said. Then something occurred to her. “He should talk to Keller Rafferty. His adopted son, Lucas Brock, went through the same thing. It might help the kid.”
He gave her a rather oddly intent look. “Thanks. I’ll tell him.” He tilted his head slightly. “You really do know everything about everyone in Last Stand, don’t you?”
She smiled. “Hardly. But I try to learn as much as I can, because I never know when it might come in handy.”
“Like now?”
“Like now.”
“And this Rafferty guy, he’ll be okay with a call out of the blue?”
“He would be even if it wasn’t Jackson Thorpe,” she said with a grin. “He’s good people. The best. He found Lucas hiding on his ranch after he ran away from a group foster home.”
Tucker blinked. “And now he’s adopted him?” She nodded. “Well, that’s a heck of a recommendation.”
As they neared the house Emily looked around. “Now I remember this place.”
“You’ve been here?”
“Back when the Baylors’ foreman lived here. I came out to do an interview, about a theft he’d witnessed. Although he didn’t know it.”
Tucker blinked. “He didn’t know?”
She shook her head. “The kid had run right past him, but Clark didn’t know until he got into the store that he’d lifted some merchandise.”
“Whew,” Tucker said, in exaggerated relief. When her brow furrowed, he grinned. “Here I’ve been thinking this place was too good to be true.”
Emily laughed. “No, we’ve got problems like anyplace, but mostly smaller ones. Like a quick shoplift under a hundred bucks.”
“So not perfect.”
“Nope.”
“Good.”
“Why is that good?” she asked, curious about what his answer would be.
“Because if it was perfect, I wouldn’t fit.”
Several retorts to that raced through her mind. She finally settled on saying, “I wouldn’t like that.”
He didn’t say anything, but he looked pleased. More than pleased. She wished she could memorize the way he was looking at her now.
Up on the porch of the big cabin, she turned to look at the view, at her beloved Hill Country rolling out beyond seemingly to the horizon. Jeremy had already run inside, followed by his four-footed buddies. Tucker paused beside her.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
“It is. I’d forgotten how much I missed the sight of such open space every day.”
“I’d hate a big city.”
“I did,” he said, his tone wry. He looked back toward the house. “I’d better get in there. Jeremy’ll have water all over the floor if he’s not careful.”
She turned to follow him inside. “You take this uncle thing really seriously, don’t you?”
“Probably more than if it was blood, because it’s by choice.”
That caused yet another tug inside her. After what he’d been through, that he could feel like this…it was amazing.
Jeremy was standing in the corner of the kitchen, where Lobo was drinking rapidly out of a large silver metal bowl. His brow was furrowed, as if he were thinking very hard.
“What, buddy?” Tucker asked.
“I think we need some bowls outside, like at the barn, for water for Maverick, and for Lobo when he visits.”
She watched as Tucker crouched down to be at eye level with the boy. “Well I think that’s a brilliant idea. Why don’t we head into town later on and pick up some more bowls. There must be a place?”
He glanced up at her then. And she was so captivated by those deep blue eyes it took her a moment to snap out of it and answer. “There’s a pet shop down at Main and Laurel.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Across from the church?”
She nodded. “They’ll have pretty much anything you need. Or if you want something bigger, the feed store carries some dog-related stuff, too.” She smiled. “I’ve learned a lot since I got Lobo.”
“Cool!” exclaimed Jeremy. “Do we get lunch now?”
“That depends,” Tucker said as he stood up again. “Let’s check that fridge.”
The two of them walked over and opened the door. Emily watched them, aware that it was making her feel rather odd. But she liked listening to them even more.
“What’s that?”
“Ew. Some vegetable thing. I didn’t like it.”
“We’ll pass then. How about the soup there?”
“It’s kinda hot for soup,” Jeremy said.
“Can’t argue that. Hey, watermelon!”
“And it’s good,” Jeremy crowed. “And if we just have a little, there’ll be enough left for dad ’n’ Nic.”
Emily couldn’t even describe the feeling it gave her to watch these two. She’d already known Tucker took his role as surrogate uncle more seriously than many who were related by blood, and his comment about it being by choice made her like him even more.
They were all three diving into the indeed sweet, luscious watermelon when Jeremy suddenly slowed his fork down. He looked at the half of the melon they’d left, ready to go back in the fridge, then back at the slice on his plate. Then he looked up at Tucker.
“C’n I ask you something, Uncle T?”
“Always.”
“My dad and Nic are gonna get married.”
“They are,” Tucker said, with a smile. But when Jeremy poked at his plate again, he tilted his head slightly. “Are you…unhappy about that?”
“No! I just…” The boy finally looked up. “I don’t know what to call her. After they get married, I mean. She’s not…”
“She’s not your mom,” Tucker said gently.
Jeremy lowered his gaze and almost whispered, “Yeah.”
Tucker reached out and put a hand on the child’s shoulder. “She knows that too, buddy. I don’t think she’d expect you to call her Mom. But you know what I do think?” Jeremy looked up, shaking his head. “I think you should ask her what she’d like you to call her.”
Jeremy’s eyes widened.
“She’s not hard to talk to, is she?” Tucker asked.
“No.”
“Then I’ll bet together you two can come up with the perfect name. Like Nicole the Great, or Queen Nic.”
Jeremy laughed. “I don’t think she’d like that.”
“Then you already know her well enough to pick something out.”
Jeremy was smiling widely now. And he dug back into his watermelon, problem apparently solved. With the help of the uncle he was lucky enough have by choice.
It wasn’t until they were gathering up the dishes that Emily was able to get close enough to say softly, “Well done, Mr. Culhane.”
That made him smile. And she couldn’t resist. She stretched up and kissed his cheek. His eyes widened in apparent shock.
But the smile stayed.