Chapter 12 #3
“I guess, picking the wrong person,” he finally said. “Growing up with my brothers and enough animals to start a zoo, I’ve never been alone. I imagine it’s quiet and between helping run the ranch and my practice, quiet sounds nice. My turn. Why did you become a vet tech?”
“I can say that I love animals, which I do. I’ve always felt at peace around furry things but there’s more to it.
When I got pregnant, I was in college. Pre-med.
Balancing my class load and being a mom was difficult, so I had to make the decision between being average at both or being a master of one.
I chose being a mom, so I dropped out of college to take the vet tech program at the local junior college.
It was eighteen months instead of eight years.
The choice wasn’t easy. Walking away from my dream of becoming a pediatrician felt like setting down a piece of myself I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back.
But I made it with both eyes open, and I’d make it again if it meant being there for Lynlee when it mattered most.”
That didn’t mean the dream was gone, though. Just postponed. When Lynlee was old enough to stand on her own, Sutton could see herself reopening that door and seeing if medicine might still want her back.
“Why didn’t your family step in and help?” he asked earnestly, like he couldn’t fathom a situation where loved ones didn’t drop their life to be there for one another.
“I grew up in foster care.”
Normally when she shared that part of her life people either looked at her with pity or squirmed uncomfortably, unsure what to say about something so far outside their own experiences.
There were a lot of assumptions too—the system, abuse, neglect—but none of those applied to her.
Her foster homes had been safe and welcoming but never loving.
She’d always felt like a placeholder, a name on a roster, a shelter for state money.
But Colter didn’t look at her that way. His eyes held something different—compassion and maybe even pride.
The warmth of it made her chest tighten, then swell, and something foreign slid through her body—she felt seen, actually seen, for the person she was and not reduced to the worst or loneliest parts of her story.
“Which is why I’ll do anything to protect Lynlee, even if it means our family stays just the two of us.
” She would kill for her daughter to grow up like Colter had, with a large loving family.
But wanting it for Lynlee and trusting it enough to hand her daughter over to it were two very different animals, and Sutton had spent five years learning the difference the hard way.
“What about her dad? Is he in the picture?”
Sutton hesitated, heart ticking up a notch. She didn’t want to lie again—yikes—but she wasn’t ready to spill that truth—not yet.
“My turn. Why a vet?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, as if he were looking into the depth of her soul. She was afraid of what he’d see so she repeated the question.
“Why a vet?”
“My mom had this way with animals. She could calm anything down, coax a scared dog out from under the porch, patch up a bird with a broken wing. Watching her, I learned patience and compassion. More importantly she showed me how to care without expecting anything in return.”
And wasn’t that the kind of man she’d always hoped would be in her daughter’s life?
Committed and gentle, and someone who could love fiercely without needing applause, someone like Colter.
The way he loved the people in his life, wholly and unconditionally, and the way he carried himself brought little flickers of confidence to her belly that maybe she had done the right thing coming to the barbecue.
“That’s a rare quality.”
“My mom was a rare person, in the best kind of way. When I was six, a wounded possum wandered into our yard. She was skinny, filthy, and hissing like she’d bite your face off.
I thought, ‘No way I’m touching that thing.
’ But Mom just knelt, talked to the little guy and, after about ten minutes, he let her pick him up.
Puggle became another member of our family.
Sleeping in my bed, riding on Boone’s head like he was her momma, eating the green M&Ms out of the bag. ”
“Just green?”
“Yup, he knew what he liked,” he explained. “Now, every time I see a scared animal, I think about that day, about what she taught me. That’s why I do this. That’s why I became a vet.”
Sutton felt a tug in her chest she hadn’t expected—a mixture of awe and something sweeter. He wasn’t just telling a story—he was showing her the heart behind the man, the kind of gentleness that didn’t come from effort, but from instinct.
For an unguarded moment, she pictured Lynlee with someone like him in her life—steady and kind, and unshakably patient—then realized just how rare that kind of soul was.
And maybe, just maybe, the truly terrifying part wasn’t how easily she could picture her daughter loving him, but also how badly she wanted a man like Colter Callahan for herself.