Every muscle she owned ached as if she’d spent the first day of September steer wrestling. And she pretty much had.
Vaccination day at a large ranch paid a lot of bills at her vet clinic in tiny Aubrey, Texas. But she always came home exhausted and reeking like a stockyard. The shower had removed the stench but not the twinges.
At least she had another vet in her practice and the new tech she’d hired would relieve some of their load tomorrow. But it was only Thursday night. Two more workdays until her only day off.
“You smell much better,” Mom teased.
“Definitely. Now all I have to do is lay on the charm.”
“My persuasive daughter bearing a four-layer delight. Who could resist?” Mom’s eyes widened. “What if our new neighbor is allergic to chocolate?”
“Or pecans.” Ally’s heart stammered. “Should I make something else?”
“Forget I said that.” Mom winced. “If there are allergy issues, just apologize and I’ll bake a pie or something else.”
“If there’s any more baking to be done, I’ll do it.” Ally picked up the dessert. “You’ve done enough.”
“It probably won’t be necessary. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t love four-layer delight.”
“Neither have I.” It was Daddy’s favorite. And Cody had practically begged for it.
Thoughts of her father always led to Cody. It had been twelve years since her policeman dad had died in the line of duty. Twelve years since her good friend Cody’s comfort had turned into an earth-shattering kiss. A kiss that had dug an awkward gulf between them.
Since then, she’d seen him exactly twice. When their mutual friend married his brother a few years ago and when he was in rehab for an injured shoulder and knee after his recent bull wreck. Her heart had clamored both times. But his apparently hadn’t.
She sighed. By now he was probably fully recovered and back on the circuit. Even if he gave up bull riding someday, he was a nomad. A confirmed bachelor, he’d never settle in Aubrey. And she was way too independent for anything other than friendship. So stop thinking about him.
“You look pretty without the braid for a change.” Mom smoothed her hand over Ally’s hair.
“Thanks.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“Tempting.” Ally took in a sharp breath and squared her sore shoulders. “But what if the new neighbor’s not a people person? We don’t want to overwhelm. All we need is some animal-hating grouch to complain and try to shut down my rescue program.”
“We’re probably overthinking the what-ifs.” Mom patted her arm.
“I hope so.” Her shoulders slumped. “I just can’t believe somebody bought the place. I almost had the owner talked into selling me a parcel. Can you imagine how many more strays I could have housed with the extra land?”
“I’m sorry I sold our land off over the years.” Mom sighed. “It should have been yours.”
“Stop, Mom. You were a widow. You did what you had to do. We’ll just have to make the best of it. If I can get on the new owner’s good side, maybe I can eventually convince them to sell me an acre or two.”
Two canine puffballs—one orange, one gray—danced for attention at her feet. “Poor babies. I promise we’ll have a good long cuddle when I get back. But right now I have to go butter up our new neighbor.”
“Rotten babies.” Mom picked up a Pom in each arm. “You’d think they never get any attention. Despite these little distractions, I’ll be praying.”
A lot of good that would do. But she couldn’t let Mom know she felt that way.
Ally stepped out and strolled casually toward the farmhouse next door.
She’d just wanted to be a vet, not run an animal shelter. Yet after a client had brought her an injured stray, word had gotten out. And before she knew it, Ally’s Adopt-a-Pet was born.
But she was running out of room. Thank goodness the inspector had already come for the year. If the state showed up tonight, she’d get written up for being over her limit. All she could do now was sweet-talk her new neighbor. And hope whoever it was liked animals.
Trying not to let her nerves show, she unlatched the gate between the properties and stepped through.
The horse trailer by the barn had to mean something. Ally’s heart rattled. Surely their new neighbor wouldn’t mind a few dogs since he, she or they clearly liked horses. Surely.
A cacophony of barks and yips echoed from the barn behind her clinic. Her volunteers—three girls from the local youth group—strolled the property walking several of the dogs. She waved a greeting and climbed her neighbor’s porch steps.
Who was she kidding? There were way more than a few dogs, with a generous sprinkling of cats, plus the pets she boarded for her traveling clients. And if she tried to shush the menagerie, it usually only made the racket worse.
Maybe she should wait until the teens left and the dogs settled down a bit.
The door swung open.
Cody Warren—in the flesh. Tall, muscular, with hair the smoky brown shade of a Weimaraner and soothing aloe eyes.
Ally gasped. Twelve years since his kiss had changed her world. Twelve years since he’d left to follow his dream.
Twelve years of trying to forget.
The glass dish slipped from her hand.
* * *
Cody grabbed the dish, his hands closing over hers. His breath caught.
Ally. On his porch.
Same old Ally. Long waves the color of a dark bay horse’s coat, usually twined in a thick braid but loose today and spilling over her slender shoulders. Cautious coffee-colored eyes as skittish as a newborn colt.
He’d succumbed to her charms once. It had rearranged his insides and altered everything. Who would have thought one kiss would put the wariness in her eyes, build an uncomfortable wall between them and cause Ally to spend all that time since avoiding him? All because of his disobedient lips.
“Cody?” Her voice went up an octave. “You’re my new neighbor?”
“Looks like.” And now he’d gone and moved in next door to her. Maybe not the best way to keep his distance. “Let me take this.” He scooped the dish out of her hands.
“I thought you’d be back on the circuit by now.” Her gaze dropped to his shirt collar.
“I...um... I decided not to go back to the rodeo.” More like his doctor decided for him. And that little bubble in his brain had something to say about it, too. “Aubrey is home and I needed a place of my own.”
“You bought the place next to me?”
“This was the only land available with enough acreage to start a ranch.” Technically leasing, with an option to buy. If he decided to have surgery. And lived.
She hugged herself. “What happened to Aubrey not being big enough for you?”
“Things change.” A brain aneurysm changed lots of things. “Does your mom still live with you?”
“She does.” She bit her lip. “Okay, yeah, I still live at home. But it’s the perfect place for my vet practice-slash-shelter and Mom’s my office manager at the clinic.”
“Come on in.” He stepped aside, striving for casual, despite the drumming of his heart. “And tell me this is a pecan chocolate four-layer delight.”