Family By The Bunch. Amy Frazier

to rein in this pesky, unwanted attraction he felt for her. “That’s just what Willy calls the few animals I’ve rescued.”

      “Rescued?” The light in her eyes softened considerably.

      “It’s no big deal.” He didn’t want her thinking he was some kind of hero. “They’re just animals that have needed a place to heal. Or retire.”

      “Draft horses?”

      “No.” The corner of his mouth twitched in a beginning smile despite himself. “Take a look.” They’d come to the small, fenced pasture behind the barn. Whistling softly, he pointed to the far corner.

      A llama stood watch over three sheep. The beast’s big ears twitched like furry antennae. But he didn’t move. He had a job to do. Hank had discovered that llamas make terrific sheep herders, protectively regarding their wards as dimwitted distant cousins.

      “That’s Fancy,” Hank said, “and the Three Musketeers.”

      “You’ve taken in a llama?” Amusement tinged her words.

      Hank put his foot on the bottom rung of the fence, leaned his arms on the top. Looked out over the pasture rather than at Neesa beside him. “And the sheep. And Amos the pig, Bowser the dog, Miss Kitty, several Canada geese, and Gizmo the mule. A regular petting zoo.”

      Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her place those delicate white hands on the top fence rail, then rest her chin on her hands. “What a wonderful place for children,” she said, almost to herself.

      “Chris and Casey don’t seem to object,” he replied brusquely, thinking with regret that cousins, nephews and nieces would be the only children on this ranch if he didn’t meet his dream woman. And soon.

      He felt her hand, small and warm, on his arm. “How did this get started?”

      Against his will, he looked at her and saw admiration in her face. Hell, he didn’t want her admiration. He wanted her to go home.

      “Look, it was an accident the way it started out. People just dumped unwanted cats and dogs at the head of the lane.” He didn’t want her thinking he was some softhearted, save-the-animals kind of pushover.

      “And?”

      “And...I took them in to the animal shelter where they could be adopted.”

      Neesa smiled, and Hank thought his dried-up heart grew two sizes.

      “That doesn’t account for the llama.” She increased the wattage on the smile. “And the others.”

      Dazzled, he forgot he was supposed to be merely civil to the woman until she took the hint to vamoose. “When I took the dogs and cats in, I found out that most of them would find a home. But there were other animals at the shelter—novelty pets whose novelty had worn off as they grew beyond the cute stage. Like Amos the Vietnamese pot-bellied pig.”

      “And Fancy.” She squeezed his arm gently.

      His mouth felt dry, his tongue too slow. “And Fancy,” he repeated dully, wishing to the devil that she’d stop smiling. Would take her hand away from his arm where it felt too good. Far too good.

      “And?” She looked up at him as if he were something special. As if he were Noah himself.

      “The shelter coordinator knew I had a ranch. Asked if I’d take a few of the animals that needed space. It’s that simple.” He stepped back from the fence and ran his fingers through his hair just to dislodge her hand from his arm.

      “What about the Canada geese?” She looked as if she actually cared.

      “Wounded. Some kids with a bow and arrow. Folks knew of the few strays I’d taken in. Brought the geese here.” He hadn’t spoken so many words to a woman not Reba in he-didn’t-know-how-many years. Suddenly he felt self-conscious. The barnyard felt airless. “I think we’d better check on the kids.”

      “Okay.” She cheerfully fell into step at his side. “As long as you promise I can pet the llama later.”

      If he could help it, there would be no later. A quick lunch. Civil but quick. A walk to her car and goodbye. The woman made him uneasy by her mere presence. Her delicate made-for-the-suburbs presence. And her questions and her interest made him very uneasy, too.