Maggie (Tales Behind the Veils) Page 10

  He’d obviously been working in some capacity when I arrived. His jeans were dusty and marred with dirt. His T-shirt was snug against his chest and damp with sweat, and he smelled more of horses and barns than his usual spearmint, lavender, and sage, but somehow it was still alluring.

  “I’ll let you know what I find,” I managed to say.

  “I look forward to it. So, we’re having a wedding, huh?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He held the folder up and waved it. “Your daughter? You’re dropping off a contract and a check?”

  “Oh. Yes. A wedding. Yes.”

  His grin broadened, and I hoped he couldn’t see the effect he had on me. I was certain he hadn’t reached his age in life without realizing he was a good-looking man. He was probably quite accustomed to female admiration, but I had no interest in playing the part of fawning older woman. If I was the older woman. Without asking his age, I had no way of knowing for sure.

  I studied the stubble on his chin and noted a bit of salt and pepper interspersed. It was hard to gauge from the lines on his face with him tanned the way he was, but surely he had to be at least forty-five. Maybe even a couple of years older.

  Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like I was auditioning him for a romantic interest. Still, curiosity made me wonder.

  The pause in conversation grew longer as we both stared at each other, and the thought occurred to me that I might not be the only one sizing things up and being curious.

  A dog barked in the distance, and Dax turned in the direction of the barn, the movement snapping me out of my daze and returning me to reality.

  “I should go,” I said, putting my hand on the key in the ignition. “I’m sure you have things to do, and I’ve got a long drive back.”

  He looked down at me, but then the dog howled, and he turned toward the barn again before meeting my eyes once more.

  “Hey. Before you go, would you be willing to help me with something?”

  The momentary sadness I’d felt at my impending departure lifted, and I answered with a bit more enthusiasm than I’d meant to.

  “Sure!”

  “Come with me. You can leave your car there.” He opened my door and held it as I stepped out.

  14 PUPPY LOVE

  “Should I grab my coat?” I asked as I stepped from the car.

  “Sure, if you think you’ll be cold.”

  “This coming from the man wearing a short-sleeved shirt in February.”

  “Today wasn’t cold. It was a beautiful day. Good day to be working outdoors.”

  Another howl pierced the air, and Dax whistled loudly in the direction of the sound.

  “Is that your dog?” I asked.

  “One of them. He’s the loudest, for sure.”

  I grabbed my coat from the back seat and shook my head as Dax offered to help me put it on.

  “I got it,” I said, smiling as he held both hands up and took a step back.

  “Just offering.”

  “I appreciate the kindness behind the offer.”

  “Let me put this folder inside before I end up leaving it in the barn and it getting lost. Bronwyn would kill me, and I’m sure you’d be none too pleased yourself.”

  I waited by the car as he walked to the front door and unlocked it, stepping inside only long enough to drop the folder on the small table by the door before locking it again and walking toward me.

  A shiver ran up my spine and across my limbs at the sight of him approaching. All muscle. All cowboy. All man. Damn.

  “You’re shivering. You cold already?” he asked. “I’ve got a coat in the barn if you need it. Might be heavier than that one you’re wearing, but it probably smells like horses.”

  “I’m not that cold. Yet.”

  The dog barked again, and farther out in the woods beyond the barn, another dog answered him.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. He’s just sounding the alarm that I’m not moving quick enough for him. That other one you heard just now, she’s the one we need to help. I found her about an hour ago, and she’d given birth to a litter. Nine puppies in all, and all of them breathing when I left. I want to get them in the barn for the night. It’ll be too cold for them out there. I’d come up here to get a blanket to move them when I saw your car in the drive.”

  As we got closer to the barn, I saw his truck parked beneath an overhang. A large black and white dog was pacing in the back. He let out another howl when he saw us getting near.

  “I’m coming, Cody. Calm down.”

  “Why doesn’t he jump out of the truck?”

  “Because I told him to stay,” Dax said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “Let me grab the blanket. You want to stay here so you don’t get your shoes dirty?” he asked, looking down at the Manolo pumps I wore.

  “Sure.”

  “Although, I guess that’s going to limit how far you can go into the woods. I didn’t think about that. Would you be horribly opposed to sliding your feet down in a pair of rubber boots?”

  I chuckled at the mental image of me wearing a pair of rubber boots with my tan slacks. “No, I’m not opposed to it, but how far out in the woods are we going?”

  “Oh, it’s not far, and we haven’t had any rain to speak of recently, so there’s not any mud, but I’d hate for you to mess up your shoes on my account.”

  The distant bark rang out again, and Cody danced back and forth in the bed of the truck, grumbling and groaning.

  “I hear her, buddy,” Dax said, ruffling the dog’s fur and patting its head. “We’re headed that way. Give me a minute.”

  Dax disappeared inside the barn and returned moments later with a large wool blanket, dotted here and there with bits of hay. He tossed it in the back of the truck and handed me the ugliest black rubber boots I’d ever seen in my life.

  I put up my hands in refusal. “I’m sorry. Do you have anything in a different color?”

  His eyes widened, and I burst out laughing. “I’m kidding! They’re fine. Give them to me.”

  He grinned, but a bit of uncertainty lingered in his eyes.

  I kicked off my shoes and braced my hand on the side of the truck to balance as I slid my feet inside the cold boots.

  My toes curled in rebellion against the damp feel of the rubber, but as I tucked my pants into the tops of the boots and stamped my feet into place, they were actually much more comfortable than the heels I’d been wearing all day.

  I laughed at the sight of my slacks shoved into the barn boots, and when I looked up at Dax he was shaking his head with a grin.

  “This is certainly a fashion statement I’ve never made before,” I said, taking a few exaggerated steps in the boots. “What do you think?” I asked as I pointed my toes on the left foot and then the right, doing a little twirl as best I could in the clumsy shoes. “Is this a look I should wear more often?”

  “No, the coat’s all wrong. You need a black coat if you’re gonna wear black boots,” he said, his grin growing as he held the truck door open and waited for me to climb inside. I made it in with a little more ease than the first two times I’d ridden with him, and I was thankful yet again that I wasn’t wearing a skirt.

  Cody barked as Dax went around to the driver’s side to get in and start the truck, and he didn’t stop barking as we followed the paved drive down to a gate, which Dax got out to open and then got out again to close behind us.

  “What are you keeping in with the gate?” I asked when we were on our way again.

  “Cattle. There shouldn’t be any in this pasture, but it’s a habit ingrained to always close the gate behind me. Life on the ranch.”

  “You said you had a big cattle operation. How big is your ranch?”

  He shrugged. “This side, the Silver Creek side, has three separate pastures, but the bulk of the ranch is beyond that tree line. It’s twenty-five thousand acres total.

  I may have let out an audible gasp.

>   “Twenty-five thousand acres? Are you kidding me?”

  “Why would I kid you about that?”

  We left the dirt path we’d been on since the gate and ventured across the grass. I could see faint tracks where he’d come this way earlier.

  “That’s a lot of acres.”

  He nodded. “Yep. It is. Most of it’s been in my family since somewhere around 1872.”

  “Wow. I had no idea. I didn’t see anything about this on the wedding website.”

  “No. You wouldn’t. Silver Creek Ranch is a separate entity. Separate business. It’s on family land, but my father deeded it to me when…well, when I started it. To find the big ranch, you’d have to be looking for Pearson Cattle and Citrus.”

  He stopped the truck and got out, reaching to grab the blanket from the back.

  “Cody, out.”

  The dog sailed out the back of the truck and danced around Dax’s legs like the happiest creature on the planet.

  “You coming?” Dax asked, his hand on his door.

  “Oh. I thought—oh—never mind.” I hastened to open my door, surprised and a bit embarrassed that I’d been sitting there waiting for him to open it.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I noticed you don’t seem to care for me doing things like opening the door, so I’m trying to be more respectful of your wishes.” His cheeks held the faintest hint of color, and he looked away as he said it, snapping his fingers for Cody to fall in line beside him. “She’s right this way.”

  I followed close behind him, trying to put my feet wherever he stepped lest there be some snake or other creature underfoot. The light was fading fast now that the sun had broken the horizon, and the woods ahead of us looked dark and uninviting.

  If anyone had told me earlier in the day that by nightfall I would be embarking on a hike in the woods with Dax Pearson, I would have said they were nuts. But there I was, tromping into the unknown in a pair of borrowed rubber boots.

  Cody ran ahead of us, but his white patches were easy to spot in the distance. He had stopped barking, and when we reached him, he was sitting near the mama dog, watching as Dax knelt beside her with the blanket.

  Her puppies squirmed as they fought to get closer to their mother’s warmth and her milk, their eyes not yet open but their mouths eager and seeking.

  “Oh, my goodness. Look at them! They’re so tiny,” I said, squatting beside Dax. The mama dog looked up at me with wide, weary eyes, and I couldn’t tell if they held fear or gratitude. Maybe both. “What’s her name?”

  Dax shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  My head turned quickly in surprise. “What? You don’t have a name for her?”

  “She’s not my dog.”

  “Whose dog is she?”

  He shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, how’d she get here?”

  His eyebrows scrunched together as he surveyed the puppies and laid the blanket out beside the mother. “She walked here.”

  I frowned at Dax, but he was too focused on the task at hand to notice. “I assumed she walked. From where? Does she live on the big ranch?”

  He shook his head. “She’s not one of ours. She’s a stray. Happened to make it this far before she went into labor. I’m going to wrap the puppies up in the blanket and have you carry them, and I’ll pick her up and carry her. She hasn’t been moving much, so I’m worried she may be injured. I didn’t want to distress her by taking them to the truck without her, or moving her without them. With you here to help me, we can move them at the same time so she knows they’re coming with her.”

  I nodded, touched by the compassion and care he was showing the stray.

  The puppies grunted and squealed as he pulled them from her, and she raised up on her side to watch him. I worried she may nip at him or at me, but she seemed to understand that we were trying to help.

  The darkness was advancing faster beneath the trees, and a cold breeze swept across us. I shivered against it and tucked my coat tighter around me before stretching my arms toward Dax. He handed the squirming bundle to me, and I stood, careful not to let any of the puppies fall out of the blanket.

  The mother’s yelp as they left her sight tore at my heart, and I crouched back down beside her.

  “They’re right here,” I cooed, pulling back the blanket from their heads so she could see them. “We’re not taking them from you. Your babies are safe and warm.”

  Dax moved his hands carefully over her abdomen, and then he gingerly pressed his fingers along her spine and both back legs. She didn’t move as he examined her, but her eyes darted back and forth from Dax’s prodding fingers to the squiggly bundle in my arms.

  He frowned and sat back on his heels, scratching his chin.

  “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “I think she’s just exhausted. I don’t feel any breaks or obvious injuries. There’s no puncture wounds from an animal and no road rash from a car. Who knows how far she walked before she had them. She may just be tired. Hungry, I bet. Thirsty, too.”

  “Maybe she belongs to one of your neighbors.”

  He chuckled as he bent to slide his hands beneath her, slow and gentle. “That’s the thing about having so much land. You don’t have many neighbors.”

  The dog protested with a whimper as he lifted her from the ground, and he whispered to her, his voice so low and soft that I couldn’t make out his words. Whatever he said must have worked, because she relaxed against him.

  We walked side by side so she could smell her puppies and know they were near.

  For the most part, the puppies settled into the blanket and lay still. A couple of adventurers tried to go under my arm or push against the blanket above them until their little noses were visible.

  It was dark by the time we got back to the truck, and Dax paused for a minute as he reached the tailgate.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, my eyes immediately going to the sweet dog in his arms.

  “Nothing. Just trying to decide if it would be better for her in the back of the truck or if I should try to get her on the floorboard. I’m afraid she’s gonna get jostled either way, but she’d probably rather be near her pups.”

  “Put her back here,” I said, indicating the truck bed. “I’ll ride back here with the puppies so she can be with them.”

  I could see the surprise in his eyes as he turned to look at me.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Why not? You can’t get her in and out of the floorboard easily. I don’t want her worried about her babies. So, we’ll all ride back here. With Cody.”

  The confidence in my voice was purposeful, because my mind was freaking out over the prospect of riding in the back of a truck, across a field, in the dark, with one possibly injured dog and one extremely hyper one.

  “Cody. Up. Lay down.”

  The big dog leapt in the back of the truck and immediately lay on his stomach, head on his paws.

  “Wow. He really minds you. I wish my kids would have minded me that well.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve seen the extent of his commands. He can’t herd cows, he can’t run hogs, and he’s never met a stranger. So, he’s pretty worthless as far as a ranch dog goes. Goofball!”

  His warm smile as he looked at Cody left no doubt as to the affection he felt for the dog.

  I stepped aside so he could ease the mama into the back of the truck, once again whispering to her in low, hushed tones as he pulled his arms from beneath her, patting her head as she licked his hand.

  “Wanna hand me the blanket?”

  I nodded and shifted the puppies in my arms to give him the bundle. He laid them next to their mother and opened the blanket just enough for her to be able to nuzzle and reassure them.

  He turned to me, lifting his hand, then dropping it, and then lifting it again. “Do you want me to help you get up?”

  I smiled at his uncertainty, and then looked at the distance between the ground and the truck bed. “Oh, I’m definitely going to need yo
ur help. How do I do this?”

  He smiled. “Oh, that’s right. If you don’t remember ever riding in the front of a truck, I’m thinking it’s a sure bet you’ve never been in the back of one.”

  “Definitely a sure bet. Is there a graceful way to do this?”

  Dax laughed, and I laughed back, not accustomed to being nervous about how to move my body.

  “I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone climb in the back of a truck gracefully, but I promise no matter how awful you look doing it, me and Cody and the little mama won’t tell anybody, and the puppies’ eyes aren’t even open yet. So, your secret’s safe with us.”

  “Then let’s do this before I lose my nerve and put you back here while I drive the truck.”

  “We can do that if you’d rather.”

  “No. I can do this. If she can walk across the wilderness and give birth to nine babies, I can climb up in the back of the truck and keep her company.”

  Dax’s smile beamed. “Would it completely offend you if I picked you up and set you in the truck so you don’t have to climb up? That might be more graceful, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  The thought of his arms around me made my knees weak, and the anticipation of his touch set my skin on fire.

  “Okay,” I said, my voice more of a whisper than I’d intended.

  He put his hands on my waist and lifted me as though I were a feather, setting me on the tailgate without the least sign of effort.

  He pulled away quickly, almost like he’d been burned, and I could feel the heat where his hands had been, despite the layers of clothes between his skin and mine.

  “I think you can take it from here,” he said, adjusting his hat.

  “I think so.” I spun my legs around onto the truck bed and scooted backwards on my coat until I was next to the puppies.

  “Hold onto the side of the truck if you need to. I’ll go slow.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  15 WITHOUT CRACKERS

  True to his word, Dax took his time getting us back to the barn, and by the time he parked the truck, a couple of the puppies had found their way out of the blanket and nestled themselves against their mother to nurse again.