Page 64 of The Cowboy Comes Home

A lot more.

“They let Lobo come inside?” Jeremy asked as they all headed into the new shop.

“They do.”

“’Cuz he’s a police dog?”

Emily nodded, then bent slightly to whisper, as if it were a secret, “And because the lady who runs the place is a big dog lover.”

Jeremy seemed to delight in the way she did that, sharing pretend secrets with him. He understood, because he knew he would too, if she shared some secrets with him. Except he’d want real ones.

And it was going to take more than ice cream to cool him down after the ideas that thought planted.

Chapter Thirty

Tucker felt asif he’d been under fierce pressure since he’d gotten dressed for tonight.

He’d spent the day with Jackson and Nic, helping them help Nic’s dad repair a corral fence one of his famed Black Angus had managed to take down while scratching an itch. He’d spent a lot of it imagining the shock of some Hollywood types—the Swiffer in particular—to see that their fake cowboy had become a genuine one.

But then the talk had turned to tonight, and the upcoming performance by local boy turned national music sensation Kane Highwater. Richard, Nic’s dad, said both he and his wife were going, along with enough other Last Stand folks that the Buckleys had had to move the show outside, since even the biggest room at the Hickory Creek Inn couldn’t hold the crowd.

“Fate’s a crazy thing,” Richard said. “And that boy’s story is one of the craziest.”

By the time they’d finished the fence he’d been tired, but decided that was a good thing if it would keep him from getting too wound up. He’d gone back to the pleasant little wing of the Baylors’ main house that was now his—the place that had once been Nic’s before Jackson had come along and upended her life—to shower and change. All the while suspecting there had been some behind-the-scenes manipulating going on when he found out the Baylors were all riding with Jackson and Nic and Jeremy, filling up the car since they’d need the back for Mrs. Baylor’s wheelchair.

“Since you’ve already got a ride with Emily,” Nic had explained, sounding a bit too happy about it.

It only made sense that Emily would drive, given she knew where they were going and he didn’t. Besides, this had been her idea. Which he hadn’t been able to say no to.

“Lobo’s going?” he asked when she arrived and saw the dog in her civilian car, a smaller version of the SUV she drove on duty.

“He loves Kane’s music.” Tucker thought she was kidding, but she shook her head. “His tail starts wagging any time he comes on when I’ve got music streaming. Besides, Frank said he’d welcome Lobo being there, given the size the crowd’s apparently going to be.”

“Wait, so you’re working tonight?”

“Nope, just being a good citizen, there and available.” She smiled. “Lobo knows when he’s off duty. And now he wants to say hello, so you’d better get in.”

He did, and was greeted with a happy whine and a swipe of pink tongue over his cheek. It made him chuckle, then reach back to stroke the dog’s head. He could hear the rhythmic thumps of a powerful tail hitting the back seat as it wagged. He felt a little like he guessed Jeremy must feel. There was something about a dog being glad to see you…

Then Emily was getting into the driver’s seat. She even did that gracefully.

“From what Frank said, there are going to be some big donations going out after tonight,” she said as she started the vehicle, and they headed for the gate.

“Donations?”

“Kane gives everything he gets from this show back to Last Stand. He covers the inn’s expenses, and the rest goes to local charities. Including—” she nodded toward the attentive animal in the back seat “—Chance Rafferty’s nonprofit that helps dogs like Lobo.”

Tucker gave a slow shake of his head. “This place is really something.”

“It’s a great hometown,” Emily said. “You should try it.”

“I am,” he answered, for the first time admitting that he was, mentally at least, trying on the idea of staying. “I just…I don’t want Jackson to pay for me to do it.”

She gave him a sideways look as she pulled to a halt at the road. “I thought he was paying you to help him with the therapy operation?”

He shrugged. “He is. I’m just not sure I’m doing enough to earn what he’s paying. And the Baylors are letting me stay in Nic’s old place, now that she and Jackson are together, and they won’t take any rent.”

“What a cranky bunch we Last Standers are,” she said, in a dramatic tone that made him chuckle despite himself.

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