The Texan Takes A Wife. Charlene Sands

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СКАЧАТЬ no internal damage and Dan was given a dose of antibiotics to administer for a week. The dog should heal in time, with no residual problems. It was good news and Dan returned to the house by early afternoon.

      He set to work in the study, reluctantly getting back to answering emails, checking over his accounts with the Cattleman’s Club to make sure everything was set for the next few months of inventory. His company’s steaks were a big draw at the club.

      He forced himself to sit there until his work was done. Well, almost done. By four o’clock, he’d had enough of numbers and computer screens. He was restless, antsy. He didn’t want to get into his head about why that was. He only knew he had to get outside.

      The front door slammed shut behind him as he exited the house and fresh brisk November air hit him. He loved the fall, when the summer air cooled and the humidity vanished. Ah, a man could really breathe again. He stood on the veranda of the house, his sanctuary, and filled his lungs. He’d gotten used to the smells around him, until beeves and earth and leather all seemed to blend into one solid Hunt Acres scent. It tended to calm him down, to keep him leveled.

      He strode down the stairs and followed the path to the corral. His mares, all three of them, trotted over as soon as they spotted him, hanging their heads over the top of the fence. “Hey, girls.” He gave each one attention, stroking their manes and patting their shiny coats.

      “How’s your day going?” Ted asked, coming out of the stable, holding a handful of carrots.

      “Hey, Ted. Fine. Just fine.”

      Ted handed him half the bunch of carrots and he gave two of his mares a treat, while Ted fed the other horse. All three mares chomped eagerly and waited for more.

      “I hear you brought someone home with you last night.”

      Dan stilled. It wasn’t anybody’s damn business and it was uncanny how fiercely he wanted to protect Erin from any scrutiny. “You hear that from your wife?”

      “Nope, not Darla. I saw the dog with my own eyes this mornin’. What happened this time, and is he stayin’?”

      Dan choked back his relief. He should’ve known Ted would be more discreet. Even if he had seen Erin, he wouldn’t have said anything. “Hit and run. I witnessed it and brought him to Doc Bristol. He’s stayin’ unless someone comes to claim him.”

      “Does the dog have a name?”

      “Lucky.”

      “Fittin’. Him gettin’ hit in front of you might’ve saved his life, that’s for damn sure,” Ted said, slapping him once on the back. “You never could resist a body in need.”

      Dan smiled at Ted’s comment because it was so true.

      And a little while later, he suited up in a pair of new denim jeans and a solid royal blue shirt. With his belly full thanks to Darla’s fried chicken dinner, Dan gunned the engine in his four-wheel drive SUV and headed off the ranch. He knew where he was going and he told himself it was only to see if anyone at the Dark Horse was missing a half shepherd, half collie mix.

      And once he arrived, he scanned the parking lot, finding clusters of people milling about by their cars, but no one looked familiar. No one was asking about a lost dog. A damn chuckle rose from his throat. He was such a fool. He’d blown it big-time and now was hoping to see Erin again. To find her, and then to do what? Hell, he didn’t know.

      He continued on until he was inside the saloon, standing at the bar. “Scotch. Double. Straight up,” he told the bartender. The barkeep set a tumbler down in front of him and poured from a bottle two inches high. Dan took a healthy sip.

      “Have you seen anybody come in here looking for their dog? Medium-sized collie-shepherd mix?” Dan asked the barkeep.

      The guy shook his head. “Can’t say as I have.”

      Just as well, Dan thought. He was growing fond of Lucky. He turned his back to the bar to look out into the crowded dance floor. A leggy brunette came out of nowhere and batted her eyes at him. She was put together, wearing a low-cut eye-popping blouse.

      “Are you looking for your dog?” she asked.

      “Something like that. I found a dog.”

      “Oh, um. Well, I can help you ask around if you’d like.”

      “No, thanks.” He sipped his Scotch. “I’m good.”

      “I think so too,” she said. Her eyes gleamed darkly, a flicker in them that would have most men paying the check and escorting her home. She leaned in closer. “I’m Yvonne.”

      Yep, ripe for the pickin’, his buddies would say, but Dan wasn’t interested.

      “Yvonne, I was just about to call it a night. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”

      Her eyes snapped in surprise. “Sure,” she said, her chin up as she pivoted on her three-inch heels and walked away.

      Dan turned back to the bar and polished off his drink.

      “Oh, man,” the barkeep said.

      Dan gave him a look. “What?”

      “You’re looking for that chick who rode the bull last night? You, uh, helped her out, right?”

      Dan didn’t respond.

      The bartender shook his head. “She doesn’t come in here. She’s not a regular. Doubtful she’ll be back. You can always tell, you know. This place didn’t suit her, if you ask me.”

      “I didn’t.”

      “There’s always the internet. Look her up.”

      “What?”

      The bartender grinned as if he knew all the truths in the world. What a dumbass. But Dan had to agree. Erin didn’t fit in a place like the Dark Horse.

      He was wasting his time. She wouldn’t be back.

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