Back In The Saddle

The dog gleefully obeyed her, wagging back to again get in her face, grinning his doggy grin and clearly enjoying the hell out of her fawning all over him. A moment later Dorelle appeared, bringing with her the scents of chocolate and brown sugar.

“Oh, I’m so glad y’all came!” she said, snatching the glasses from Zach. “Can they have some cookies?” She beamed down at the boys. “Right out of the oven, all gooey and warm.”

Two sets of pleading eyes swung to his, and Zach sighed. “Only a couple, they haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Got it,” Dorelle said, gathering the boys to her like a mama hen and herding them toward the kitchen. “Y’all like milk with your cookies? Or juice...?”

Zach returned his gaze to Mallory, her lap still full of blissful dog. “Um... I wasn’t actually planning on staying?”

“Meet my mother, the unstoppable force,” she said, gently pushing the dog down so Zach could come inside, into a spacious entryway flanked by a living area on one side, a formal dining room on the other. Not that he knew much about decorating, but the overall effect seemed more yard sale hodgepodge than designer-contrived. Or maybe that was the contrivance. “Oh, and by the way, Mama’s concept of a ‘couple’ probably does not jibe with yours.”

“That’s okay, neither does my mother’s.”

“And by ‘not planning on staying,’” she said, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him, “was that you just trying to be polite? Or do you really have someplace else to be?”

“Would it make any difference?”

“To my mother? Not a lot, no.”

“And to you?”

Her eyebrows lifted. As did the corners of her mouth. “Far be it from me to detain a gentleman under false pretenses,” she said with a slight bow. “Or keep him against his will. Although I’m sure you know my mother probably didn’t leave those sunglasses behind on accident.”

Zach shoved his hands in his back pockets, unsure about how he felt by this turn of events. Unsure, period. “I did have my suspicions.”

Mallory glanced at the dog for a moment, then back up at Zach. “She’ll swear up one side and down the other she’s not trying to fix me up, but the woman lies like a rug.”

He smiled. “So I take it you’re not exactly on board with her plans?”

After a moment, she said, “The past five years haven’t exactly been a picnic. All I want is a little peace, you know? Some space where nothing’s happening. I am not looking for someone new in my life, believe me. At least not now.” Her lips curved. “And I suspect,” she said gently, “you know exactly where I’m coming from.”

Her understanding rattled him more than he was about to let on. “I do. So the question is...do we tell your mother?”

“Oh, I suppose we should let her have her fun. She doesn’t get much of that these days. And anyway, you seem reasonably sane, which is more than can be said for ninety percent of the men I usually come in contact with. The women, too, for that matter.” Her eyes narrowed. “I feel like you and I could actually have a real conversation, if we put our minds to it.”

Something like a tiny spark flickered in the center of his chest. “Then we don’t have any pressing engagements.”

“Good,” she said, then started toward the large living room, the tile changing over to bare wooden floors. A doorway at the far end opened into what was probably a converted garage, through which he glimpsed a few pieces of exercise equipment. The dog plodded beside her, her new BFF.

“Nice place.”

“Don’t know about ‘nice,’ but it met the main criteria—right location, all on one level, easy access to the outside. It took surprisingly little to retrofit it for my needs. I know the furniture’s goofy, but that’s what happens when seventies’ kitsch—my mother’s stuff from our old ranch—meets I-don’t-really-give-a-rat’s-hiney. And, yes, the torture chamber vibe—” she nodded toward the exercise gear “—adds a nice touch, don’t you think? Seriously, I have absolutely no style sense whatsoever. Nor do I care. And please, sit. Since I am. Of course, I always am, so there’s that. Or we can go take a tour of the grounds, if you’d rather? I doubt Mama’s gonna let your boys out of her clutches for a while.”

Zach wondered if she always prattled like that. If he made her nervous. Although he could only imagine all the people she’d met over the years. Worked with. Why a country vet like him should discombobulate her, he couldn’t imagine. But if getting outside put her mind at ease...

“Sure. Josh asked if I’d check out the stable conditions for Waffles, anyway. He’s pretty protective of the horses that leave his care.” He grinned as she led him through a glassed-in sunroom and onto an obviously new deck that looked over a small pond. “And every bit as bad as your mother.”

She belted out a laugh that made him smile. “You saying we’re doomed?”

“That’d be my take on it, yep.”

“Family,” she muttered as Benny collapsed in a patch of sunshine on the deck and promptly passed out. “Can’t live without ’em, can’t kill ’em. Aw...poor guy. He’s not exactly a pup, is he?”

“Nope. In fact, he’s closing in on fourteen.”

“Get out!” she said, chuckling when the dog released a deep, contented breath. “He’s in fantastic shape for an old dude. You’ve obviously taken great care of him.”

“Actually I’ve only had him a few months, since his owner passed away. She made me promise to take Benito if anything happened to her. Since she was in her nineties, it was touch-and-go which of them would leave first. And she was worried about what would happen if he ended up in a shelter.” Squatting beside the golden, Zach gently stroked the warm fur. “Not many people want to adopt older dogs.”

His eyes still closed, Benny lethargically thumped his tail, then lifted his head to give Zach’s hand a quick slurp before drifting back to sleep. Zach stood, smiling for the old dude. “So how could I not make whatever time he has left as good as possible? And he and the kids are inseparable.”

“I can see that. Then again, dogs and boys are a match made in heaven.”

He looked over to see a gentle smile creasing Mallory’s face as she watched the dog. “You’ve got a pretty soft spot for them, too, I’m guessing.”

“I was raised on a ranch, remember? We always had dogs. Four or five, at least.”

“But Edgar’s your mom’s?”

“He is. We had three pups, back in LA. Rescues, all of ’em.”

“Breeds?”

“Mixed. One big, two medium. They’re with my ex. Or more to the point, with Landon. Because no way was I going to separate them. Poor kid’s been through enough, he can keep the dogs. Well. On to the stables?”

“Sure.”

Her shoulders bunched under the sweater as she navigated the gently sloping ramp leading to what looked like a recently poured cement path, the autumn sun turning her hair nearly the same color as the early-frost-kissed sycamore leaves overhead. “I actually closed on the place three months ago. Took some time, though, to get this all done. And my Realtor was a jewel, supervising it all.”

“It looks like it was always like this.”

“That was the idea. You ever been here before? For the previous owners, maybe?”

Zach shook his head. “Property’s been vacant for years. Twenty, at least.” He stopped short of the stables—four stalls, what looked like a good-sized loft—to take in the spacious dog runs, a sturdy chicken coop. And beyond them, a small orchard. Tart cherry trees, probably. Several types of apple. Whatever might actually produce fruit at this altitude.

Then he glanced over at the stables, and she said, “Yes, I’ve already checked them out. They’re fine. Although I probably won’t bring the horse over until closer to when Landon gets here. Since Waffles needs to be ridden. And it’s not like I can simply hop up on the saddle and take off.”

For the first time, he heard in her voice, if not exactly fear, at least apprehension. A stark contrast to the persona she otherwise presented. To him, anyway. But not only was it none of his concern whether she got back up on a horse or not, he hardly knew the woman. Still, he was surprised how mad it made him, that she’d let fear get in the way of doing whatever she needed, wanted, to do.

Like he had room to talk.

He let his gaze roam over the property, which seemed to go on for a while. “How much land you got here?”

“About twenty acres. After LA, I wanted some space. Needed it.”

“You miss Texas.”

“More than I wanted to admit, yeah.”