Hill Country Reunion. Myra Johnson

you.” A part of him really, really wanted to take her in his arms for a hug, but he figured that might be pushing things. Besides, he was afraid once he held her again, he’d never be able to let go.

      She didn’t give him the chance anyway. After tossing her hat across to the other seat, she jumped in behind the steering wheel. “Need to get going. See you around.”

      “Yeah.” Tripp stepped back as she yanked the door closed. “See you around.”

      * * *

      Diana could not leave Serenity Hills quickly enough. And there was nothing the least bit serene about her departure. She could see Tripp sincerely felt bad about barging back into her life. But friendship, after she’d thought they were on the verge of making a lifetime commitment? The fact that it still hurt so much only proved the depth of the feelings she once had for him.

      Once? All right, still. Every man she’d dated since had the misfortune of being held to the standard set by Tripp Willoughby. Either the guy wasn’t funny, smart, kind or romantic enough, or if he happened to meet all those criteria, there remained the chance he’d dump Diana just like Tripp had. It was a lose-lose proposition any way she looked at it.

      Arriving at her dad’s ranch, she returned Mona to the pasture, then backed the horse trailer into its spot next to the garage. Before she could get it unhitched, her dad came out to help.

      “Have a good time?” he asked.

      “It was fun—until Mona spooked and I hit the ground.”

      “Uh-oh. You okay?”

      “I’ll live.” Stooped over the trailer hitch, she could pretend her hip was the only thing bothering her.

      When they’d moved the trailer tongue onto a cinder block, she thanked her dad and forestalled more questions by saying she needed to get home and change before going over to see Aunt Jennie. She just hoped to have her emotions a little more under control by then.

      An hour later, with freshly washed, finger-combed hair and wearing a clean pair of jeans with a purple peasant top, Diana tapped on the door of her great-aunt’s tiny apartment. A soft “Coming, dear” and shuffling feet preceded the click of the doorknob. The door swung open, and Aunt Jennie welcomed Diana with a cheery smile and a warm hug.

      Diana stepped into the cozy sitting room. Her great-aunt’s plush blue recliner and favorite antique end table added a homey touch. “Looks like Mom and Dad got you all settled. It’s a lovely apartment.”

      “Yes, it’s quite comfortable, and the people here are as nice as can be.” Aunt Jennie sighed as she eased into the recliner. “Only one thing could make it better.”

      “I know—you miss Ginger. Tell you what,” Diana said as she plopped onto the love seat. “One day this week I’ll take you over to my house and you can hug on my critters.”

      “Oh, that would be wonderful.” A bright smile lit Aunt Jennie’s face. “Do you still have all three of those spoiled-rotten cats? And the rabbit, too?”

      “Sure do. Plus a stray parakeet I found fluttering around the bird feeder last spring. He’s made himself right at home, and he knows how to show those cats who’s boss.”

      As Diana described her menagerie, she itched to get rolling with her plans for a therapy pets program. Not only would it make Aunt Jennie’s transition a little easier, but pet visits could bring a spark of life and laughter to the other residents, as well.

      * * *

      The next morning, Diana awoke to a blaring clock radio and an overweight gray-striped tabby sitting on her chest. She slapped the off button on the radio while shoving the cat to one side. “Okay, okay, Tiger, I’m awake.”

      Midnight and Lucinda, the tomcat’s partners in crime, paced across Diana’s feet, all apparently near starvation, if their plaintive mews could be believed.

      The hardest part of owning a doughnut shop? The 4:00 a.m. wake-up call. And Diana had stayed up entirely too late last night downloading information and application forms for starting a therapy pets program. Tossing back the covers, she stumbled to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, then saw to her pets before sitting down to her own breakfast.

      By 4:50 she was out the door. At the shop, she helped Kimberly start batches of doughnuts, muffins, scones and apple fritters, then set up the coffeemakers. At one minute before six, she flipped the Closed sign to Open and unlocked the door.

      After the early-morning rush ended, she helped Kimberly get more pastries in the oven, then made herself a café mocha latte and carried it to her office. Logging in to her email account, she hoped to have a response from the therapy pet organization she’d contacted about sponsoring a chapter in Juniper Bluff.

      And she did. Agnes Kraus, a representative from Visiting Pet Pals, asked Diana to call at her earliest convenience. Adrenaline pumping, she dialed the number immediately.

      “Yes, Diana, it’s good to hear from you,” Mrs. Kraus said. “We’re delighted you want to launch a program in Juniper Bluff.” Papers rustled. “I’m looking at your application right now. I see you want to focus on dog owners initially. How are you doing with potential volunteers?”

      Diana chewed her lip. “No commitments yet, but I have some acquaintances in mind. I was planning to get going on that over the next few days.”

      “You do understand each dog must have basic obedience certification? Plus, we require a minimum of eight sign-ups before I can make the trip to evaluate the animals and conduct a training session specific to therapy pets.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” Diana said, quickly jotting reminders. “I have your list of requirements right here in front of me. Once I have my volunteers, how soon could we be evaluated?”

      Mrs. Kraus paused, the sound of clicking computer keys filling the silence. “My fall schedule is filling up, so the earliest date would be the second Saturday of November. That would give you about six weeks to get your team together.”

      Diana clicked open her own calendar and counted off the weeks. She’d hoped to hold the first official pet visit at the assisted-living center as a surprise for Aunt Jennie’s birthday, a few days before Thanksgiving. It just might be doable—provided she could come up with eight qualified dog owners.

      “Pencil me in,” she told Mrs. Kraus. “I’ll do everything possible to be ready by then.”

      She’d just hung up when Kimberly tapped on the door. “Diana, you might want to see this.”

      Diana pushed back her chair and stood. “Please don’t tell me the oven conked out again.”

      “No, the oven’s working like a champ. It’s...something else.” Kimberly led the way out to the alley and over to the Dumpster. She pointed into the shadows. “See back there by the wall?”

      Muted whimpers wrenched Diana’s heart moments before she glimpsed the scrawny mother cat and four newborn kittens nestled inside a crumbling cardboard box. “Oh, dear, you poor things!”

      “We can’t leave them back there,” Kimberly said. “This is trash pickup day. They could be crushed.”

      Diana edged away, afraid of frightening the cat into running off somewhere even less safe. “Can you keep an eye on things while I run over to the supermarket for some cat food? Maybe I can lure her out and then...” She shrugged. “I’ll figure out something.”

      Half an hour later, Tiger’s favorite Shrimp-and-Salmon Delight had the mama cat’s nose working overtime. Within five minutes, Diana had made a new friend. While mama dined, Diana and Kimberly transferred the kittens from their dingy hiding place into a sturdier, towel-lined crate. The mama cat climbed in with her kittens, and Diana carried them to her office.

      When she checked on them later, snuggled in their box next to the filing cabinet and emitting soft, rumbling purrs, she realized she was already growing attached.