Page 59 of Home Hearts Hooves

“Even if I could get the words out to ask him on a date or something, where the hell would I even ask him to go? It’s not like there’s a lot of places to take a date around here.”

His eyes widen a little at my confirmation of his suspicions about my thing for Preston. I pause, waiting for the ribbing that’s sure to follow.

“That’s true. There isn’t much in town if you’re not a teenager wanting to share a booth in the new diner before driving to the falls to make out.”

The only time I went to the falls was in the daylight to jump off the top and swim in the summer after all the morning chores were done. Nial stands up with his plate and takes one step toward the kitchen, then pauses and turns.

“We could do another movie night, the weather’s been great, and we’re booked out for the cabins on Friday. How about you invite him to a cinema under the stars?”

I glance out the long window that overlooks the ranch. The sun is only just peeking up over the north mountains, throwing a beautiful soft orange glow across the entire sky.

“That’s actually a good idea. The guests would love that.”

“So would a certain vet.”

“I’ll ask him today under one condition,” I say, and Nial raises a brow. “What would that be then?”

“If he agrees to come, you don’t make it weird.”

He laughs. “Sorry, bro, can’t promise that, but hey, who knows, I might invite a date of my own. We can double and really make it weird.”

“Are you and Maggie not a thing anymore?” I ask, referring to the O’Leary’s daughter. Nial had been seeing off and on for the past year.

“We’re off again.”

“I thought you two were serious this time.”

He shrugs and heads into the kitchen.

I guess not.

“What time will we be starting the cinema?” I ask, letting the O’Leary thing go. If he wanted to tell me more, he would. Nial is not really the secretive type.

“About half-six, seven,” he calls back, and then the kitchen door closes with a thwack, and I spot Nial through the window headed to the main barn. The young ranch hand, Denver, from next door, jogs across the drive to meet him, and while I’m grateful that Nial has help, it sucks that I’m still not able to be out there with him. I’ve always managed before. I broke my arm about six or seven years ago now, and even in a full cast up to my elbow, I managed just fine getting all the work done. We did have about half the animals then, no cuddle cove or quirky lamas to manage, and no cabins either. Okay, so I can’t really compare the workload then and now. But just seeing how hard they’re all working makes me feel pretty fucking useless.

My phone chimes, and I swipe up the screen to check the message.

DOC: Need to head up to the Fletcher Farm, they’ve got some dead sheep. Should be back by lunch.

Dead livestock is never something anyone wants to deal with, but as a vet, Preston would be faced with it more often than most.

DEAN: Happy to come along if you want company.

DOC: Pick you up in twenty.

I drop Cuddles off with Connor. He’s jumping around with the mini highlands when I sneak out, and hopefully, he’s having too much fun to notice me not being there. I left the sash so that if Connor needs it, it will at least be covered in my scent. Once Skye is done with his morning chores, though, he’ll be over in the cove anyway, helping to clean out the mini barn stalls. I’m almost certain that when he sees Cuddles, he’ll claim the sash and all care rights. Poor Connor, he’s wanted a dwarf goat for as long as he’s been on the ranch, it’s really not fair that Cuddles is so against him. I’ll have to keep my eye out for another one for him.

“The Fletchers have lost some sheep,” I tell Nial as he hooks up the first of the girls in the milk shed. “The doc and I are headed out there now.”

“Shit, do you know how many, or how they died?”

It’s a morbid question, but out here, it’s a valid one. Accidents can happen with animals, like Brutus and the downed fence, much more struggling from him and he could have severed a main artery in his leg and died out there. But there are bigger risks, too, like diseases that can wipe out entire farms. We don’t have any sheep on the ranch. Gramps used to keep a few sheep that we used mostly for food. The Fletchers would send one of their sharers out to give them a go over and Gramps would give them the wool for the trouble. He had no need for it, after all. When he moved to Savannah, we handed what was left over to them and started just buying meat from the local butcher.

“Nope. I’ll let you know. Preston is picking me up, so you’ll have the truck if you need it. Is everything going well here?”

“It’s great, Denver is picking it up quick,” he replies, nodding towards the far row where the young ranch hand is working about four girls behind Nial, even with us talking. Not exactly killing it, but he’s new and given I was working at about half his pace, Nial is still better off with the young Royal than me.

Tires skid to a stop on the gravel outside.

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