Chapter Two
T he woman who walked with the llamas finally got moving again, and Wilder Glover put a smile on his face. After all, he hadn’t come here to cause a problem; rather the opposite, as he needed to solve one at Shiloh Ridge Ranch.
They had a whole slew of new kids and lambs, and they were being picked off one by one, despite Gun’s introduction of a pair of guardian dogs. He was still working with them and learning how to train them, but in the meantime, Wilder didn’t want to lose any more livestock.
He’d read online that llamas were excellent protectors, especially if they could bond to the goats they were meant to watch over.
Just like every time he got on the computer, his research led down a rabbit hole, and a couple of hours later, he’d landed at Llama Mamas, thrilled to learn it sat only minutes south of Shiloh Ridge.
He’d filled out their online contact form, as their website was pretty bare bones and didn’t have a business phone number.
He hadn’t heard back yet, though, and he figured he had a couple of hours this morning before he had to get back to the ranch and get the picnic area set up for his family’s weenie roast that night.
The woman had dark hair spilling out of the back of her cowgirl hat, and she wore a pair of black cargo pants that covered a sturdy pair of work boots, along with a pale blue tank top and a pair of sunglasses that prevented Wilder from seeing her eyes.
The website hadn’t had much information about the owners here, either, saying it was a “family operation” that hosted “activities, tours, and events for all ages.”
When she got close enough that Wilder didn’t have to yell, he said, “Again, sorry about just showing up. I’ve got a livestock problem, and I’ve heard that llamas are amazing protectors.”
“You heard right,” she said, and she pushed through the few animals who had come charging at him and stepped out of the gate.
“I’m Wilder Glover,” he said, extending his hand toward her, something about her terribly familiar, though he felt certain he would remember if he had met this woman before. “I work at Shiloh Ridge Ranch, and we’ve got a new flock of spring lambs and kids—and also a coyote problem.”
“Savannah Calloway,” she said, placing her strong yet delicate hand in his. Fire licked up his arm to his elbow and then tingled up to his shoulder.
She flipped off her sunglasses, settling them on the brim of her cowgirl hat at the same time she said, “The twins are going to feel bad they missed their flower cowboy.”
Wilder sucked in a breath, his heart being dragged through his body by a herd of wild horses. “It’s you,” he said, recognizing the woman from the flower shop instantly.
A barrage of shouted sentences moved through his head, things like, You will get her number before you leave, and Now you know her name, and Ask her if she has a boyfriend!
He tried to quiet all of them, also trying to remember why he was here and what his own name even was.
She smiled, and the world seemed to spin twice as fast, making Wilder’s head fuzzy and everything around him blur just a little bit—except for Savannah. She’d always been crystal clear in his mind, though she’d worn her hair down that day in the flower shop, and she’d been managing two kids.
“So the girls aren’t here?” he asked.
She shook her head. “It was their friend’s birthday. They went to a movie in Three Rivers.”
He took a step closer to her. “Do you go to movies in Three Rivers?”
Savannah lifted her chin, a flash of defiance moving through her eyes—or maybe she just had to look up to maintain eye contact with him now that he stood a little bit closer.
“I don’t really see why you need to know that,” she said, and Wilder couldn’t decide if she was irritated or teasing him. He reminded himself he was there on business , and he turned toward the llamas.
“I think your website said you have llamas and alpacas here,” he said.
She stood shoulder to shoulder with him. “Yep, I sure do. You should be able to tell them apart pretty easily, because the llamas are much bigger.”
She pointed to the two that stood right at the fence. “They’re taller too, and they have a much longer face with big ole banana-shaped ears.” She laughed lightly and reached out, stuck her hand through the square in the fence, and patted the neck of a brown-spotted llama.
“Llamas like to spit when they’re annoyed or trying to be the pack leader. Alpacas usually just spit at each other.”
Wilder could listen to her talk all day about anything, and he reminded himself that he had other things to do on the ranch that day. “Do you ever sell them?” he asked. “I didn’t see any other llama breeders or farms in the area.”
“Yeah,” she said cautiously. “You said you need them to protect kids?”
“Kids and lambs, yeah.”
“How many do you have?” she asked.
“Twenty-four. We started with thirty-one, and I just can’t stand to see ‘em being picked off.”
He caught her nod in his peripheral vision, and she drew her hand back to this side of the fence. “I’ve got a couple of gelded males that would be perfect.”
She turned toward him, and Wilder wondered if he’d have to tell her that he had almost no experience with llamas.
“They’re well trained, proven guardians, and they have calm temperaments. Nacho is five years old, and he’d do an amazing job.”
Wilder couldn’t help chuckling at the name. “Nacho? Did one of the twins name them?”
Savannah smiled at him, but it seemed tight and stretched. “As a matter of fact, Gal came up with Nacho. We’ve had him for a couple of years now.”
She seemed like she wanted to say more, but she quickly pressed her lips together. “If you take Nacho, I’d also send Carl with you.”
“Nacho and Carl ?” Wilder tipped his head back and filled the sky with his laughter. “I’ll never be able to show up at Shiloh Ridge with Nacho and Carl .”
“And it’s Carl with a C,” Savannah said, smiling more fully now. “Because llamas always look like a Carl.”
“Okay, so I think your other daughter’s name was Sequoia?” He raised his eyebrows.
Surprise shot across Savannah’s face, but she nodded.
“Sequoia came up with that,” he said.
“She says the funniest things sometimes,” Savannah said instead of outright saying yes.
“How much for Nacho and Carl?” Wilder asked. “And a couple months of llama lessons?”
Savannah turned from where she’d been gazing fondly at her animals. “Llama lessons?”
He edged closer to her again, simply because he could. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about the animal. Do they need to be trained? How will I know if they’ve bonded to the herd?”
“Oh, you’ll know,” Savannah said. “Llamas are like kings and queens—or in this case, princes. If they’re unhappy, they’ll be depressed. They’ll cry. They won’t eat. They’re like great big babies.”
She grinned at them, her love for them shining through. “Trust me. You’ll know.”
“And what if they do all those things?” he asked. “Can I bring them back and get new ones?”
“We’re not an online warehouse,” she said, and Wilder recognized the teasing lilt of her voice now. “I don’t know if I have any others I’d send to you for protection.” She paused, her head tilting in the cutest way ever. “But I could ask around the llama network.”
Wilder couldn’t help laughing again, and he felt better in this fifteen-minute conversation than he had in months.
Fine. Maybe he’d been a little petulant and moody himself these past few months, as Gun and Rock and Brandon had all been engaged.
In fact, their weddings sat back-to-back every Saturday, starting in only two weeks.
The June of weddings—and currently Wilder’s biggest nightmare.
Rock and Clover’s wedding was supposed to happen in April, and Clover had very specific ideas and plans for their union. Plans that Mother Nature didn’t care about. She’d washed out the road that led to Bald Mountain, where Rock and Clover had been set to be married.
At first, they’d only rescheduled for another month, but the Forest Service had just opened the road three days ago. In fact, Rock had just texted that morning that he and Clover were now going to be married on June seventeenth.
It’s three Saturdays , Wilder had told himself when he’d gotten the text. It’s just three Saturdays, and you can make it through three Saturdays.
Now faced with Savannah, a llama named Carl, and things like “the llama network,” Wilder knew he’d make it through the three back-to-back weddings just fine.
He also wanted to get down on his knees and thank the Lord for the coyotes on the ranch, though just last night, he’d been spitting mad about this problem he had to deal with.
“Did you say how much they’d be?” he asked. “For Nacho and Carl?”
Savannah tilted her head and looked out at the llamas.
“And the llama lessons,” Wilder added. “I can come to you.”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, and then turned her head and studied him fully. He had no idea what she knew about Shiloh Ridge or his family, but most people in the area had at least heard of them.
“I can let the llamas go for seven thousand for the pair,” she said.
“Wow.” Wilder put one hand against his chest as if she’d wounded him. “Does that include the cowboy flower discount?”
Savannah laughed and shook her head. “No. I’m a single mom. There will be no discounts.”
Wilder’s heart leapt at the word single. “You’re a single mom with a boyfriend…or a single mom who’s…single?”
Her eyes hooked onto his again, and the electricity in the air would’ve restarted his heart had it stopped beating. Which it totally almost had when faced with the beauty of this woman. She had to feel that, and Wilder smiled, hoping that would push her over the edge.
Sure enough, she ducked her head, but not before he saw the beginnings of her own smile. Yeah, she felt it.
“Single mom who’s single,” she said. “With two five-year-olds. And we live with my mother.” She raised her head and her eyebrows, as if to challenge him not to run screaming from the property.