Reuniting With The Cowboy. Shannon Taylor Vannatter

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      Cody scanned his cozy house, grateful to have a loving family. Even though they sometimes smothered him.

      Only twenty-four hours since his parents had caught up with him and his new house was already furnished. There would have been even more fuss if he’d told his family he was leaving Grandpa’s. And if he’d accepted a ride home from his parents, he’d have likely ended up at their house. Yet because of them, he actually had a table to sit at to savor his last serving of four-layer delight.

      In a day’s time, his dad and his brother, Mitch, had brought over Mitch’s old dining room set, appliances and dual recliner couch, along with Cody’s old bedroom suite from when he lived at home. He’d moved out twelve years ago and Mitch had given up his bachelor pad two years ago, but they had kept everything. His family officially ranked as hoarders.

      The rich coffee aroma still permeated his house, as they’d offered him countless cups throughout the day.

      If only he could have the real stuff instead of the fake. The empty maker mocked him from the counter. He’d die for a cup. Literally. He filled the carafe with water, poured it in the back, scooped decaf grounds into the filter and turned it on. It would have to do.

      The doctor’s list of aneurysm triggers included intense nose blowing, vigorous exercise and strain. Since he had no allergies, he should be okay unless he got a cold.

      It was a genuine wonder the aneurysm hadn’t ruptured during his physical therapy, which came to a screeching halt after his doctor found the bubble during a follow up scan after his last concussion. Hopefully, his leisurely walks on his new treadmill would help with his limp.

      Anger and surprise would be easy to avoid since he was laid-back and not easily startled. But real coffee? He came from a family that joked about having caffeine in their veins instead of blood. Having his dark roast again just might be worth the surgery that could kill him or reduce him to vegetable status.

      He scraped all the excess chocolate and crumbs out of the glass dish and polished off the last bite of the lip-smacking dessert. The tang of cream cheese lingered on his tongue.

      Despite all the activity and furnishings, Ally had stayed away. Her mom had brought him a casserole, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Ally since yesterday.

      Maybe moving next door to her hadn’t been the best plan. It was the only land he’d found to lease, but it wasn’t a good way to relieve the tension between them and get their friendship back on track.

      He stood and waited until the stiffness eased in his knee before shuffling to the sink, then made short work of washing the pan and poured a cup of decaf.

      Since they’d grown up in the same church, hung out in youth group and been in the same class, he, Ally and his now-sister-in-law, Caitlyn, had been best friends all the way back to kindergarten.

      But Ally had avoided him at Mitch and Caitlyn’s wedding. And after his bull wreck, when Ally had visited the rehab center with her dog program and had realized her patient was him, she hadn’t been able to get out of there fast enough.

      She was obviously uncomfortable because of that kiss that had spun his world into a blur faster than any bull ever had.

      But hadn’t affected her.

      Maybe they needed to talk about the kiss. Agree to forget it. He dried the glass dish and tucked it under his arm. If he walked slow and careful and took the stupid stick, he could handle the uneven yard. He gulped the useless coffee, grabbed the cane and stepped out his back door.

      Must have been after hours for her clinic. Only one other truck and a car were parked next to Ally’s—probably one of her youth group volunteers. He continued past the house to the block structure with a neon open sign in the window.

      A cowbell clanged when he opened the door.

      “I’ll be right with you,” Ally called from the back. “Is it an emergency?”

      “It’s just me.”

      Silence.

      A deep woof came from behind the counter. Cody eased closer. A male German shepherd lay sprawled on the floor, his ears perked up.

      “Hey, buddy, don’t worry—the vet’s nice.” He lowered his voice. “And she’s a looker, too.”

      He set the dish on the counter, settled in a chair in the waiting area, picked up a livestock magazine and thumbed through it.

      “You know I’m on your side, Ms. Curtis.” A man’s voice came from the back. “I love animals as much as you do. But you’re not in compliance with the cats. You’re supposed to provide eighteen square feet per cat.”

      “The mama cat and two kittens just came in yesterday.” Her words came fast, desperate. “Their owners moved and abandoned them. I just couldn’t turn them away. I planned to buy some more acreage so I could expand, but someone else beat me to the property.”

      He’d tied up the land she needed. Cody closed his eyes.

      “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to write you up.”

      A pause.

      “I understand.” She sounded so broken.

      And now she was in trouble.

      Cody had to find a way to fix it.

       Chapter Two

      “Maybe you should consider revoking your no-kill policy.” Mr. Humphries wouldn’t even look at her as he flipped to the appropriate form on his clipboard.

      “I can’t do that.” Ally’s heart squeezed. Kill a perfectly healthy animal just because no one wanted it?

      “You know I’m against it, too. Maybe you could take some of the cats to another shelter.”

      A lump lodged in her throat. “So they can put them down?”

      “I’m sorry, Ms. Curtis.” The inspector strolled toward the front of her clinic.

      Come on—think of some way to change his mind. Ally hurried after him.

      “Excuse me.” Cody met them in the lobby, removed his cowboy hat. “I came to pick out those cats we talked about.”

      Mr. Humphries’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

      Ally’s insides lit up. “How many would you like?” She held up three fingers behind Mr. Humphries’s back.

      “Four.”

      “Four?” Mr. Humphries echoed.

      Four? Her heart warmed.

      “Just moved in next door. Cody Warren.” He offered his hand and the older man shook it. “My barn is infested with mice. I’m thinking four cats should take care of the problem.”

      He sounded so convincing she wanted to hug him.

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