Reuniting With The Cowboy. Shannon Taylor Vannatter

not a breed snob. Who could dump a sweetie like this?” Cody baby-talked the puppy as she buried her nose in his neck.

      “I don’t have a clue.” Ally’s frustration came out in her tone. “At least there was a ball game that night. One of the moms found them and brought them to me.”

      “So which of these dogs and cats are homeless?” The chorus of barks had settled as the dogs got used to him in their midst.

      “I keep the first twenty kennels on the left for boarding. Their people are gone on vacation or out of town for work reasons.”

      “Their people?” Cody grinned.

      “I don’t call them owners. We think of animals as our pets, so I figure the pets think of us as their people.”

      “Why is she shaking? It’s not cold in here.”

      “Chihuahuas have an abundance of energy. She needs a walk. I was just about to take her for one.” The Border collie–spaniel mix stuck his white-and-black muzzle through his fence and whimpered. “I know, baby. You want some attention, too.” She rubbed his snout.

      “Can I take him for a walk?”

      “Probably not a good idea with your leg. But you can sit with him if you want.”

      “I’d love that. In fact, point out the ones who need some attention and I’ll take care of it while you’re gone.”

      He certainly wasn’t making her heart grow any less fond of him by being so sweet and concerned over her strays. “You sure?”

      “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

      “Okay, hit this side.” She gestured to the pens on the right. “Love on as many as you can or want to.”

      “Will do.” He headed for the first pen, then snapped his fingers and turned back toward her. “I almost forgot my proposal. I went to our old church yesterday and signed you up to supply the pets and oversee the petting zoo for the carnival this weekend.”

      Her neck heated. Was that steam blowing out her ears? “Without asking me?”

      “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing and they needed volunteers fast or the whole thing was threatening to fall apart.” He shrugged. “They’d already advertised the petting zoo, so they have to supply it. And just think, it might be a chance to get some of your strays adopted out.”

      “But I don’t go to church there anymore.” She propped her hands on her hips.

      “I know. Caitlyn told me.”

      “So did you ever stop to think maybe I’m tied up with my church this weekend? Or with work? Or with life?” Not that she had one, really, but he didn’t need to know that.

      “Your church? You still go?”

      “Of course I go.” She was a glorified pew warmer, just going through the motions, but she wouldn’t mention that. “There are other churches, you know.”

      “I just assumed. Caitlyn said you hadn’t been since...”

      Her dad died. Her eyes stung. “I haven’t. Mom and I switched to one in Denton.”

      “Did something happen at our church?”

      “No.” She sat down on a hay bale. “It was just overwhelming. Everybody was so sympathetic and sad for us. The sympathy almost smothered us. We wanted to go somewhere where nobody knew us. Where nobody knew Dad.” Her voice wobbled. “Where they didn’t feel sorry for us.” Where Ally could pretend she was still leaning on God.

      The hay bale gave with his weight as he sat beside her. “They were sad for you because they care.”

      “I know.” She swiped at her eyes. “It was just too much.”

      He put an arm around her shoulders.

      Ally’s pulse thrummed at his nearness. In fact, he could probably hear it. More than anything, she wanted to snuggle close, accept his comfort.

      For a breath of a second, she let her head rest against his shoulder. But if she stayed, she might lose her heart. And he’d realize how she felt. But she couldn’t feel that way about him or any other man. Self-sufficient Ally didn’t need anyone. Wouldn’t allow herself to. She pulled away from him and stood.

      “I’ll make a few calls, see if I can rustle up animals for the petting zoo.”

      “And think about overseeing it? It starts after school lets out Friday and ends at seven. Then ten till three on Saturday.”

      “Sorry, those are my work hours.” She scooped the puppy away from Cody, touching him as little as possible. “I need to walk Buttercup. You start dog-sitting while I go.” She grabbed a leash off the wall and strode toward the exit.

      “Hey, Ally.”

      “Hmm.” She stopped but didn’t turn around.

      “Are you mad at me?”

      Yes. I’m mad at you for leasing my land. For that stupid kiss and leaving me behind all those years ago. But she couldn’t tell him that. And that wasn’t what he meant anyway.

      Her shoulders slumped. “No. But in the future, don’t sign me up for anything without asking me first.”

      “I meant about the kiss.”