“Bad idea?” she assumed to explain it.
“No, that’s a good idea. A terrific one, in fact.”
“But you expected me to come up with a bad idea?” she asked, still confused by the shocked expression she’d prompted.
He smiled again, sheepishly this time, and she had to admit it was appealing. Very appealing.
“When you said you were enlisted to do the fund-raiser I had a flash of a black-tie affair that not many people would come out for. But a flea market? That’s perfect for Northbridge. The whole town will get into that.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It’ll also bring out more folks for the auction, maybe increase the odds of selling some of the horses so I can get them off my hands.”
“Do you keep some of the rescued horses yourself?”
“More than I should. The same goes for a couple of other ranches around here. That’s why we need to do the auction and why the mayor said he’d do what he could to raise some money for us—funds are down after caring for as many animals as we have in the last month or so.”
“I didn’t think there were that many horses rescued at any given time.”
“It varies.”
“Has there been a big influx lately?”
“We had a hard winter. Closer to the big cities they see more neglect, abuse, problems from overcrowding, abandonment, that sort of thing. We can run into that here, too, but in the open countryside we’re more likely to see wild horses that have been hurt or stranded. Or, like now, a lot that couldn’t find food through the winter and were dying of starvation. That’s why we’re overcrowded right now.”
“You’ve been feeding them?”
“Feeding them, nursing them back to health. But we can’t just keep them all. Eventually, when the horses are ready, something has to be done with them. So we hold periodic auctions.”
“To make way for more horses that need help.”
“Right.”
So he had dimples and he did good deeds even beyond the call of duty that had brought him to Charlie’s rescue yesterday. Faith was beginning to see why her sister had been shocked by her complaints about him.
And since that left Faith wondering again about what part she might have played—however unwittingly—in the previous day’s events, she wanted to make sure she was particularly conscientious today. Which seemed to mean not dragging out her visit to Charlie.
“I’m sure you’ve put in a full day and want to get home,” she said then. “Your receptionist said you’re keeping Charlie there with you?”
“I have five dogs so one more doesn’t make much difference.”
“And Charlie is doing all right with the other dogs?” It was Faith’s turn to be shocked.
“Sure,” he said as if he didn’t understand the question.
Faith decided against telling him that Charlie was usually horrible around anyone else’s pets.
Instead, she said, “And you think I’ll be able to take her home tomorrow?”
“I’d plan on it.”
“Good. My house is pretty empty without her,” Faith said, standing and handing her schnauzer back to Boone.
Charlie had no qualms about being returned to the vet—another surprise—and actually tipped her head back once she was in his arms, lovingly licking the underside of Boone’s chin.
“Yes, you’re a good girl,” Boone cooed to her, placing a light kiss to the top of Charlie’s head.
And Faith felt a pang.
She wasn’t sure of what, but it came in response to that kiss.
It must have been over seeing how much her dog liked Boone, she decided. Ordinarily Charlie’s loyalty to her was intense and Charlie didn’t warm up to anyone else, so Faith wasn’t accustomed to sharing her affections.
“I’ll call in the morning,” she said as she made her way to the door with Boone and Charlie bringing up the rear.
“Okay,” the vet said. “And don’t worry, I know Charlie isn’t being herself but she’ll be back to normal soon.”
Faith nodded, partially turning to give her dog one last pet and kiss the top of Charlie’s head herself before saying goodbye.
“Have a nice night,” Boone called as she went out.
“You, too,” she responded with one last glance at man and dog.
And one last pang.
And while it still seemed logical that the pang was from leaving Charlie with someone else, it almost felt as if that wasn’t exactly the cause.
It almost felt as if that pang was jealousy.
Jealousy of her pet.
Who was in Boone Pratt’s arms.
But that couldn’t possibly be the case, she told herself.
And yet, the pang was there and with it was some curiosity about what it might feel like to have Boone Pratt’s big hands stroking her….
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