The Wrangler's Last Chance. Jessica Keller

      Shannon nodded and stepped backward. Her arms tightened around Wing Crosby as he tucked his head onto her shoulder. “I’m going to. Right now.” She took another step back. “What are you going to do?”

      “Me?” Carter chuckled. “Probably go gargle antibacterial hand soap a few times. Birds are germ magnets.” He shrugged. “Then finish unpacking.” He pointed at her as he backed away. “But let me know what the doc says, okay?”

      “I will,” she said and then rushed Wing Crosby into her bunkhouse to warm him up, change into something dry and wait for Dr. Spira to arrive. While she waited, she tried to think of an appropriate way to thank Carter Kelly. The man had saved her pet. She had to do something to thank him.

      Seeing his blue eyes and chiseled jaw again had nothing to do with it.

      It didn’t.

      Because Shannon Jarrett was done with men.

      For now, certainly, but maybe for good, as well.

      “Well, except for you, of course.” Shannon patted Wing’s head and he honked quietly from his perch on the blanket-covered heating pad. His eyes closed again.

      She no longer trusted her heart when it came to these things, so the fact that she found Carter attractive meant nothing. Her heart only ever got her into trouble. So it had been demoted. Every choice from here on would be logical. Thought through. No emotions. No heartache.

      But it was logical to thank someone.

      Living a life without roots meant Carter Kelly had never owned much, but the generous bunkhouse he had been given as one of the perks of his new job at Red Dog Ranch dwarfed his meager possessions even more than usual. It was almost embarrassing, but it would be the biggest place he had lived in since his stepdad had tossed him out on his ear all those years ago. At least the place had come furnished. If it hadn’t, his new home would have looked really pathetic with nothing in it.

      Not new home.

       Temporary.

      Temporary home.

      He couldn’t afford to think of places as his or grow attached to anything. It wasn’t his style. Getting attached meant getting involved, meant hurting when he left or was told to move along. It meant missing and longing for a place and people who probably wouldn’t think about him after he was gone.

      No, thank you.

      Going down that road once had been enough for him. He would work here a year or two, tops. Pay down some of his school debt while he enjoyed the free room and board and then move on to get experience elsewhere. Carter would gather as many different learning experiences as he could. If he stayed on course, he could one day achieve his dream of saving enough to begin his own practice. Then when people and animals were solely dependent on him, he would be prepared. He wouldn’t let any of them down or fail them.

      It was a solid plan. The perfect plan.

      One that had worked for him countless times before.

      One that had kept him safe.

      Still, he thanked God for at least the twentieth time that day for providing him this job at Red Dog Ranch. Nowhere else he had applied to had offered room and board along with a decent salary. Some offered a place to stay but charged a small rent. Not to mention the fact that the other prospective employers had all asked probing questions about why he would want to work grunt jobs for them when he had a DVM degree.

       You’re a doctor, son. Why would you waste that here at my farm?

       Of course I could use a veterinarian on staff, but I don’t have the money for one and this is a lowly position at a pig farm, so I have to ask myself what you’re trying to pull here.

      But his new boss hadn’t seemed all that concerned or impressed with Carter’s credentials. All Rhett Jarrett had wanted to know was what experience he had with horses, what leadership roles he’d been in before and who his references were. So many years spent working any job he could find at the ranches that dotted both the West and Midwest had paid off. Rhett had been impressed with his horsemanship and the quality of the ranches Carter had worked at.

      Carter flipped a switch and can lights nestled across the ceiling buzzed to life.

      He had thought about touring the ranch after he finished unpacking, but with it still being only early spring, evening had draped the area quicker than he had anticipated. He would save his exploring for tomorrow.

      Sighing, Carter tugged the folder full of his loan paperwork from his backpack and tossed it onto the kitchen table. When it landed, the folder slid a bit. A small dog-eared notecard peeked out the edge. He picked it up and ran his thumb over the Bible verse he had written there. But Thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head. He had carried this for twelve years. Ever since Audrey.

      Most of the time, Carter put a lot of effort into not thinking about Audrey, but a reminder as he started at a new place wasn’t a bad thing.

      A warning to be careful—not to let his guard down with anyone—no matter how much his extrovertly wired brain begged him to connect with others. Connecting only ever got him burned.

      Audrey was his cautionary tale.

      A lesson he never needed to learn again.

      So why had he told the woman today—Shannon—to keep him updated on the gander?

      Carter scrubbed his hand over his face and shot out a long stream of air.

      He was a veterinarian who had performed a procedure on an animal and he wanted to see if he had done the right thing, learn if there was something else he could have done in the situation. Grow as a professional and be better prepared for the future he one day hoped to have. That was all.

      The fact that Shannon was beautiful wouldn’t—couldn’t—factor in. Though with her short, wavy blond hair, curvy frame and wide eyes, she was impossible not to acknowledge. Even dripping water from a pond overrun with algae, she had caused him to be flustered for a moment there.

      He tucked the verse card back into the file.

      He ruined people’s lives when he got involved.

      He was a liability and always would be.

      Someone knocked on the door and Carter rushed to answer it. Even though he wasn’t set to officially start working until Monday, maybe his new boss wanted him to take care of something today.

      He opened the door to find Shannon smiling beside a bald, hunched-over man with age spots peppering his face and hands. She held a teal-colored plateful of what might have been cupcakes. They were certainly baked in cupcake wrappers, but whatever frosting there had once been had melted and pooled onto the plate in a shiny puddle.

      Shannon grimaced. “These were supposed to be a thank-you.” She glanced down at the plate. “I’m not the best cook. Not like Cassidy—she’s our head chef, and these would make her faint.” Shannon pressed the plate toward him. “They’re just from a box and I think—okay, I know I didn’t wait long enough before frosting them but...” She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.

      Frosting sloshed onto Carter’s thumb when he took the plate. He looked down at the offering and his chest felt tight. He swallowed hard. “You made me cupcakes?”

      “Well, sort of.” Her laugh was quiet, a little nervous. “I wanted to do something nice for you but you totally have my permission to throw them away when I’m not looking. I probably should have just picked you up something from the bakery in town tomorrow.” She reached to take the plate back. “In fact, let’s do that. Let’s pretend you never saw these and I can just toss them myself.”

      He protectively moved the plate to his side, away from her so she couldn’t