“Time to get ready for the next one.” Her father winked at the boy. “You should be proud, Eli.”
“Thank you, sir.” Eli nodded and headed for the door.
“Don’t get up,” Josie said to her dad.
“Now, Josie—” her father started to argue.
“Dad.” She held her hand up.
“We know the way out. Don’t get Jo all worked up.” Hunter shook her father’s hand. “Have a good evening, Carl. Thanks for having us over.”
Her dad winked. “You’re welcome anytime, Hunter. You know that. You, too, Fisher.”
She knew her father cared for Hunter—he always had. After all, Hunter had been almost family. Her gut twisted. She led Hunter to the door, needing him to go—now.
“I know you’re a big-time author now, but I expect to see you some before you go.” Fisher hugged her again before following Eli out and into the truck.
Hunter lingered in the doorway. His gaze wandered over her face. “You and Carl want to come out to the ranch tomorrow? Have dinner with us? I’ve made a lot of changes.”
Josie stared at him, surprised. Did she want to go? No, she really didn’t. It would be awkward and painful. Us. She didn’t think she could handle seeing his family unit together, in a place she’d truly loved. Where Amy now lived. “I don’t—”
But her father interrupted her, loudly. “Sounds good.”
No, it doesn’t. It sounds like a nightmare. She mumbled, “Are you sure that’s okay?”
Hunter smiled that crooked smile. “It’s my home. Of course it’s okay. See you about six?”
She stood there, searching for some sort of excuse, while he climbed into his truck and drove away.
Hunter didn’t say much on the drive back to the ranch. Fisher, who was never at a loss for words, kept Eli talking all things steers and Future Farmers of America. And Hunter was thankful for it. Spending time with Jo was harder than he’d expected. Leaving her was worse. If he could get her alone, if he could talk to her... What would he say? He was eleven years too late to apologize.
Fisher said good-night and headed to his place, leaving Eli to his homework and Hunter to his paperwork.
“I guess she is kinda pretty.” Eli sounded thoughtful.
“Who?” Hunter looked at his son over his laptop.
“Josie.” Eli gazed at the homework spread out on the table all around him. He tapped his pencil on the table, then added, “I guess I sorta get it. But Mom’s prettier.”
Hunter looked at his son. “Your mom is beautiful, Eli.” Amy had always been pretty—to look at. But her beauty was skin-deep. Underneath was something else entirely.
No point being negative. Chances are she’d be coming through town for the holidays. Sometimes it went well, sometimes it didn’t. But he wanted his son to have a relationship with his mom, no matter how he felt about his ex-wife.
“So are you going to date her?”
Hunter looked at his son again. “What?”
“Are you going to date Josie?” Eli’s bright eyes challenged his father unflinchingly.
“No.” No matter how much he wanted to. “She’ll be heading back after the holidays, anyway.” He kept his voice neutral.
“If she wasn’t leaving, would you?” Eli’s gaze continued to burn into his.
Hunter studied his son for a long time. “Yes,” he answered truthfully. “But I don’t know if she’d want to date me, kid. It’s not that easy, you know?”
“Why?” His son’s eyes narrowed a little.
He hedged. “It’s just not. Women are...complicated.”
Eli sighed and looked back at his homework. “I know.”
Hunter stared at the top of his son’s head. “What does that mean?”
“Woman are complicated.” Eli was bright red when he looked at his father. “I asked Dara if she’d have lunch with us...at the county show.”
Hunter bit back his smile. “Did she say no?”
Eli shook his head, then shrugged. “She didn’t say anything.”
“You should ask her again. You might have surprised her. What did you say?”
“I don’t know.” He paused, thinking. “Something like, ‘Have lunch with me at the next show.’”
Hunter nodded, fighting the urge to laugh.
“She just stood there, staring at me.” Eli looked at his paper.
“Did you ask her or tell her?”
Eli tapped his pencil again. “I think I asked her.”
“Ask her again.”
Eli frowned at his paper, the pencil tapping faster. “It’s no big deal. I gotta get this done.”
“Need help?”
Eli shook his head.
Hunter sat, trying to stare at his computer. His son had his first crush and he didn’t know what to tell him. He thought Dara was a nice enough girl, but they were both so young. And shy. Eli had probably scared the shit out of her, at the very least surprised her. But Hunter knew better than to push. If Eli was done talking about it, then they were done talking about it. Eli had homework and so did he.
He had a good group of fourth-year vet students, partly because he was so hard on them. The semester might be winding down, but clinical rotations weren’t. Not like the patients disappeared because it was winter break. If his students didn’t like it, they could take a look at the long waiting list of eager candidates waiting for any open spot to remind them of how lucky they were to be there, working through the holidays.
He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up and logged on to the University of East Texas website, then the College of Veterinary Medicine intranet to access his files. He had two classes of finals to grade and his caseload of patient files to review. His fourth-year students were doing most of the patient charting, but he had to check each and every note.
Most were spays and neuters. A couple of dogs with parvovirus. He glanced over their charts. Poor dogs had to be isolated and hooked up to an IV to keep hydrated. It was expensive to cure and messy to treat. All it took was one easy vaccination to prevent the whole thing.
He clicked ahead, skimming the fourth years’ notes. No errors so far. He closed those files, then opened Mars’s file. They were all getting attached to the sweet yellow Labrador. She’d been with them for two weeks now. Her owners had carried her in, bleeding and limp, after she’d been hit by a car. He hoped her paralysis was temporary, but the dog wasn’t improving the way he’d expected. They’d have to perform a cesarean soon. He didn’t have much hope for the three puppies she carried, but he prayed Mars survived. He added a note to schedule the surgery for next week and closed the file.
“Dad,” Eli said. “Did Uncle Fisher get the four-wheelers back?”
“Yes.” He glanced at his son. “But you’re not driving them.”
“Uncle Fisher would let me.” Eli frowned. “And Uncle Archer and Uncle Ryder would let me, too.”
“They might. But they’re not your father.” He nodded. “You’d best not