Page 57 of The Cowboy Comes Home

He nodded slowly, pondering.

“Lobo!”

He turned his head to see a clearly delighted Jeremy, running toward them as he stuffed a paper into his small backpack. The dog took a step forward, ears up and tail wagging happily.

“I see we’ve been put in our proper place,” Emily said, and when he glanced at her she was grinning, looking as pleased as Jeremy did.

“Yep,” he agreed cheerfully. “Behind anything with four legs in the pecking order.”

“He’s a great kid.” Her golden eyes were warm and approving. “Worth what his father did.”

And once more Tucker had no words for what she made him feel.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Emily watched Loboas he teased, taunted, and darted around the horse in the corral. The big black and white pinto did a lot of snorting and dancing, but it was obvious even to her, with her limited equine knowledge, that the horse was having a grand time with his new playmate.

They had moved the sassy horse up to the main Baylor ranch barn, which had the additional advantage of a larger attached corral. She stood leaning against the fence rail, Jeremy standing to one side of her with his golden, Maverick, who seemed interested but puzzled by the actions of his canine friend. On the other side was Tucker, also leaning on that top rail, and not quite as close to her as she would have liked. She wondered if the distancing was intentional, or just because he was ready to vault the fence and go after Splatter if he had to.

She supposed that was the analogy she should have used, being ready for whatever a horse would do. But the driving one had clearly made sense to him, had eased that spike of tension she’d sensed, so it had been good enough.

After nearly an hour of romping, horse and dog rather calmly walked over to the fence where they stood. Splatter reached out and nudged Tucker with his nose, and suddenly Emily was back to yesterday when the horse had hit him much harder, and he’d nearly gone down. But clearly Tucker didn’t blame the animal, because he reached out and rubbed his knuckles under the horse’s big jaws.

Then he bent to pet Lobo, who despite the hour’s work had easily cleared the four-foot corral fence to come down beside them, although he was panting.

“Better get you some water, buddy,” he said.

“Let’s go up to the house. He can use Maverick’s bowl,” Jeremy said.

The boy darted off without waiting for an answer, both dogs at his heels.

“Quite a picture, isn’t it?” she murmured. “Gold and black dogs, both enthralled with that amazing kid.”

“He is amazing,” Tucker said. Then, as if on impulse, he said, “Come on. Maybe we can raid Jackson’s fridge for something good to eat.”

“He’s not there?”

He shook his head as they started that way, at a much slower pace than boy and dogs. “He’s over at the therapy barn. Special case came in he wanted to deal with personally. Kid who lost both parents in a car crash.”

“Ouch,” she said. Then something occurred to her. “He should talk to Keller Rafferty. His adopted son, Lucas Brock, went through the same thing. It might help the kid.”

He gave her a rather oddly intent look. “Thanks. I’ll tell him.” He tilted his head slightly. “You really do know everything about everyone in Last Stand, don’t you?”

She smiled. “Hardly. But I try to learn as much as I can, because I never know when it might come in handy.”

“Like now?”

“Like now.”

“And this Rafferty guy, he’ll be okay with a call out of the blue?”

“He would be even if it wasn’t Jackson Thorpe,” she said with a grin. “He’s good people. The best. He found Lucas hiding on his ranch after he ran away from a group foster home.”

Tucker blinked. “And now he’s adopted him?” She nodded. “Well, that’s a heck of a recommendation.”

As they neared the house Emily looked around. “Now I remember this place.”

“You’ve been here?”

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