The Rancher Next Door. Cathy Gillen Thacker

and—to her complete astonishment—dug right in.

      “What makes you think I’m nervous?” Rebecca groused, not about to deal with one more naysayer in her life.

      Her parents’ worries, combined with her three siblings’ unvoiced skepticism, had been more than enough.

      Not that anyone had bothered to listen to the entirety of her plan. No, she usually lost them when they heard about the second loan she’d taken against the first, and the balloon payment due two weeks after closing.

      Oblivious to the calculated financial risks she was taking, Trevor regarded her with a gentleness she didn’t expect.

      “You have the same look in your eyes that I had in mine when I closed on Wind Creek.”

      Rebecca couldn’t figure out whether he was being straight with her or not. What he’d said did not sound like the Trevor McCabe she knew. “You. Mr. Big Shot Cattleman. Were nervous.”

      “Oh, yeah,” Trevor replied. “As was my brother Teddy when he started up The Silverado.” Trevor finished his second helping, and went for a third. “It’s the same thing everybody feels when they buy their first car or home or pet, or accept a job. That what-have-I-gotten-myself-into-now panic. Buyer’s remorse, some call it.”

      Rebecca added ketchup to her dinner, too, and found the condiment delicious and the casserole beneath just as unpalatable.

      She toyed with the food on her plate, suddenly glad he’d brought this up. She needed some encouragement. “When does the panicky feeling pass?” she asked him.

      “As soon as you get going.” He flashed her a sexy smile. “Which is why it’s probably good you’re going to pick up the start of your herd tomorrow. Once you get busy caring for your alpacas, you won’t have time to think.”

      Not thinking sounded good.

      Rebecca started to relax.

      Trevor smiled at her.

      Too late, she saw the unexpected had happened…they were becoming more than neighbors…they were becoming friends.

      “YOU DIDN’T TELL ME you had a puppy,” Trevor remarked a few minutes later as they cleaned up the dishes.

      “I don’t.”

      “Then you’ve got a visitor.”

      Rebecca followed his glance to the bank of kitchen windows overlooking the backyard. Sure enough, a chocolate- brown Labrador retriever was alternately nosing the ground and trotting briskly toward the house. When he reached the stoop, he let out a sound that was half bark, half whine. “Oh my goodness. He barely looks old enough to be away from his mama.”

      Trevor caught the puppy before he could dart past Rebecca, into the house. He lifted the squirming Labrador to chest level. “It’s a she. And I’d guess, from the size of her, that she’s about nine, ten weeks old, which means she probably just left her mama and the rest of her litter.”

      Interesting. “Does she have tags?”

      “Nope.” Trevor looked. “Just a collar.”

      She sure didn’t look scared or lost. “Anyone around here have puppies recently?” Rebecca asked.

      “Not that I’m aware. And this is a purebred, which makes her worth a pretty penny.”

      “You got that right,” a male voice concurred.

      Rebecca and Trevor turned.

      Vince Owen strode toward them.

      “This is Coco. I just got her today. I was bringing her over to meet you and she got ahead of me. Trevor.” Vince nodded.

      Trevor nodded back, looking, Rebecca noted, no more pleased to see the Circle Y’s new owner than he had earlier in the day.

      “Rebecca.” Vince leaned forward, and before Rebecca could stop him, kissed her cheek in Southern-style greeting.

      Rebecca didn’t know why she was annoyed. Having grown up in Texas, she had received many a casual peck on the cheek as hello over the years. None had ever bothered her. This one rankled. The way he subtly moved in between her and Trevor seemed meant to annoy his old college classmate. She didn’t like being used as a pawn in anyone’s game.

      Trevor handed Coco to her new owner with a cynical look.

      “I hope I’m not interrupting something,” Vince said.

      Rebecca sensed Vince wanted an explanation for Trevor’s presence and perhaps an invitation to hang out for a while, too. She was just as inclined not to give it. Intuition told her that despite his smooth manner and cordial appearance, the handsome, blond Vince Owen was nothing but trouble.

      Trevor looked at Rebecca, checking, she figured, to see if she needed him to stay. Knowing it would be easier to get rid of Vince and back to what she needed to be doing in preparation for the morning, Rebecca let Trevor know it wasn’t necessary.

      To her relief, Trevor took the hint, albeit with barely concealed reluctance.

      Trevor slipped back inside the house to get his hat. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow. I better get going. Vince.” Trevor dipped his head in polite acknowledgment.

      Vince nodded back. He waited until Trevor climbed into his pickup truck and drove away, then turned back to Rebecca.

      “Like to hold her?” Without waiting for a reply, Vince thrust the puppy into her arms.

      The chocolate-brown pup looked up at Rebecca with dark liquid eyes. As always, when confronted with puppies, Rebecca felt her heart melt a little. They were just so sweet, vulnerable, eager to please…

      And given the packet of investment information she had yet to pull together for future customers of the Primrose alpaca operation, she really did not have time for this.

      “My cattle won’t be delivered for a few days. I’ve got two hired hands sitting idle. Should you need anything, be sure and let me know. I could send my cowboys over to help,” Vince said.

      “That’s a very generous offer,” Rebecca replied. But not, she figured, without strings. What kind, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

      “What are neighbors for?”

      Rebecca petted Coco’s head. She was a beautiful dog. Rebecca smiled as Coco licked her forearm with her velvety rough tongue. Too bad her new owner didn’t seem half as smitten with the puppy as Rebecca was.

      “You don’t work the cattle yourself?” Rebecca asked.

      Vince Owen shook his head. “I’ve got two other properties around the state. Have to ride herd on all of them.” He withdrew a business card from his wallet, handed it to her. “Here are all my numbers. Should you need anything at all, just call. Meantime, as long as you and I are getting acquainted—” he paused to flash her a salesperson’s winning smile “—I’ve got two tickets to the Laramie County Rancher’s Association Spring Fling.”

      Rebecca already knew about the black-tie dinner-dance at the community center on Friday evening. “Thank you for the invitation, Vince, but I’m already planning to attend.”

      “With McCabe,” Vince guessed, a hint of unpleasantness coming into his eyes.

      Rebecca gave him the “attitude” she reserved for too- persistent men. “Alone,” she corrected.

      Relaxing, Vince gestured affably. “If we went together, you could introduce me around.”

      Reluctantly, Rebecca handed his puppy back to him. She didn’t want anything or anyone interfering with her efforts to network and promote her new business. Vince could easily do just that, as could Trevor McCabe. “Laramie is a very friendly place. You won’t have any trouble meeting people on your own.”

      Vince took her rejection with a graceful shrug. “Another time, then.”