Surprise flitted through Boone. He hadn’t expected Nicole to come to the dog park, though she hadn’t exactly said she wouldn’t. She hadn’t said she would either, had never answered his text at all.

He wished he could say he didn’t care. That the lack of her texting hadn’t kept him up for an extra hour. But ever since yesterday morning, and all that delightfully buttery hair, Boone had been thinking about Nicole in a whole new way. It irked him that she hadn’t even looked at the paperwork he’d taken such care with, but they weren’t at work right now.

She wore her hair in a high ponytail, and he realized now that she always wore it in a bun at the clinic, which made it impossible for him to tell how long it was. She also always wore scrubs, though he wasn’t sure why. She only worked with the animals in the shelter, not the pets who came in for treatment over in the hospital side, and she never gave shots or anything of the medical sort.

And she wasn’t wearing scrubs today, but another pair of those tight pants, this time with a teal stripe down the side. She set her toy poodle in the grass, but it didn’t move to run or play. When she stepped, so did the dog.

“All right,” he told Leia and Taz. “Who wants to chase the ball?” He tossed it, sending both dogs after it, and turned back to Nicole. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah?”

Boone frowned at the incredulous tone in her voice and the way her eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs.

“Outside of work,” he said, trying to clarify what he meant.

Nicole just looked at him like he was speaking Japanese. He felt the same way, because he couldn’t make his thoughts settle into anything coherent. Princess Leia returned with the ball, and Boone took the opportunity to move a couple of steps away from Nicole’s intoxicating scent of minty lemons to throw the ball again.

“So what do you like to do outside of work?” he asked. “Besides come to the dog park, obviously.”

Nicole tucked her hands into her hoodie, her shoulders bunched. She clearly wasn’t comfortable with him, and he racked his brain again for what he’d done to make her dislike him so much. And wasn’t she hot in that sweatshirt?

“Gardening,” she said just as Taz dropped a slobbery ball at her feet.

Boone watched Lord Vader as he went over to a much larger mastiff and started sniffing. He literally couldn’t think of a single thing to ask her.

“What are your dog’s names?” she asked.

“So that’s Princess Leia,” he said as his lab ran after the ball he threw. “And Lord Vader is over there, flirting with getting snapped at.”

“Princess Leia and Lord Vader?” She giggled, and Boone had never heard such a sound from her. She was all business at work, and usually quiet and reserved. “Big Star Wars fan?”

“My father’s a big fan.” He shrugged. “I guess it rubbed off on me.” Boone thought of his parents a bit further south in Texas Hill Country, his perfect older brother who worked the ranch, and his younger sister who taught school in the nearby town.

Only Boone had dared break the mold and leave town. Being a middle child wasn’t easy, especially with a father who really wanted his children to leave a mark on the world. Boone wasn’t sure how to do that, and his father’s words followed him around like a wispy shadow.

“So what do you do besides running?” she asked.

He exhaled and chuckled. “Let’s see. I grew up on a ranch, so I like to fish, and hunt, and hike. I’m training for the Amarillo marathon next year, so yes, I like to run. And I like taking care of animals.”

“You’re good at it.”

“Is that a compliment?” He took a chance and looked fully at her, something he hadn’t dared do quite yet. He laughed when her expression showed discomfort. Her hazel eyes sparkled, halfway between flirtatious and guarded.

“You already have a big enough head,” she said. “You don’t need compliments from me.”

Boone fell back a step. “So you think I’m arrogant.” He wasn’t asking, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been accused of such a trait. He didn’t mean to come off that way, but somehow he did, at least to some people. Nicole, apparently.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to.” He whistled to his dogs, and they came running. They both sat in front of him and he treated them. “Time to go guys. Say goodbye to the other dogs and the pretty lady.”

She locked her eyes on his. “Pretty?”

Heat crawled up his neck, and he shrugged again. “Sorry to make you come hang out with me when you clearly didn’t want to.”

He’d taken four steps away when she said, “I looked at your paperwork before I left last night.”

He turned back toward her. “Yeah?”

“It looked good.” She swallowed and clenched her arms tighter around her middle. “Thanks for doing that.”

Boone, employing his bravery and taking a chance, returned to her. Got right in close to her. “What did I do to you?”

She had to tilt her head back to look up at him. “What?”

“You’ve never liked me. I must’ve done something. What is it?”

Every defense she had—and probably some she didn’t—flew into place. Her eyes closed off and her jaw clenched.

Boone smiled and backed away. “All right. But I’ll find out.” He needed to so he could fix it, because he was still interested in Nicole even though she emanated iciness, and he wanted to see if he could thaw her out.

“No, it’s fine,” Boone said into his phone on Sunday morning. “I’ll be right over.”

Pete Marshall wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t something important with one of his horses out at Courage Reins, a therapeutic riding facility on the same land as Three Rivers Ranch.

He picked up the plate containing his breakfast of eggs and cottage cheese and scooped half into Leia’s bowl and half into Vader’s. They slurped happily as scrambled eggs were one of their favorite foods and he shouldered one of his lab coats before leaving the house.

Boone pulled up the barn at Three Rivers Ranch, taking an extra moment in his air conditioned cab before getting out. He took a deep breath, something about this ranch as soothing as the one he’d left in Grape Seed Falls.

He didn’t want to own a ranch or work one. His older brother Dwayne did that and was remarkably good at it.

Boone was good at his job too, and he’d actually started asking his father for more and more advice about running a business since he’d bought Puppy Pawz ten months ago.

With a spark of realization, he realized he relied on Nicole to run the office and she was perfect at it. Maybe he needed to compliment her more. Let her know he appreciated what she did, that she hadn’t even blinked when he’d come in as the new vet and then the new owner.

“There you are.” Squire Ackerman, owner of Three Rivers Ranch and Boone’s cousin, came out of the barn and shook Boone’s hand.

“Somethin’ smells good out here,” he said.

“Kelly has breakfast on still, if you want to eat before you go. I’ll just text her.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and looked at Boone, waiting.

“I never say no to breakfast,” Boone said, thinking of how he’d fed his to his dogs. “Especially when your wife’s cooking.” He grinned and stepped toward the barn. “So what am I doing out today? Pete said he’s got something I need to see?”

Squire finished his text and followed Boone into the barn. “One of Pete’s best therapy horses is sick,” he said. “Or something. I can’t quite make sense of it, and Pete suggested I call you.”

“Why’s that?” Boone headed toward the cluster of men down at the other end of the barn.

“Because he thinks you’re a better vet than I am.”

Boone chuckled and shook his head. “That’s not true.” He suspected he knew why Pete had suggested him, but he didn’t press Squire to say it out loud. After all, Boone didn’t want to be reminded of the hundreds of cattle he hadn’t been able to save on a ranch outside of San Antonio.

“What’ve we got?” Boone joined the circle when the other cowboys and ranch hands made room for him. He recognized Ethan, his wife, Brynn, Cal—also a vet—Pete, and Bennett. A few others loitered too, but Boone couldn’t remember all of their names.

His gaze migrated to the horse in the pen, and his heartbeat bumped over itself. “It’s Peony?” He pushed forward to the rails and went over them. “Why didn’t you say it was Peony?”

He didn’t wait for Pete to answer. There wasn’t anything to say anyway. But Boone loved this gentle, cream-colored horse. She’d rescued a lot of people, from veterans with physical limitations, to children with mental disabilities, to men like Boone who just felt broken inside.

Stroking the horse down her nose, he said, “Someone tell me what’s going on with her.”

Cal said, “She’s tender in the abdomen. Dehydrated. Lethargic.”

“Stool?”

“None.” Pete joined Cal at the fence. “She’s been like this for about a day.”

Boone’s brain spun, trying to find something that would cause these pretty common symptoms. “Constipation.” He ran his hands down Peony’s neck, not feeling anything abnormal.

She lay perfectly still while he touched her back, but as soon as he moved his hands to her belly, she tensed and nickered at him, a clear warning not to touch her.

He checked her hooves, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and gingerly trailed his fingers up her front legs. “She’s swollen here.” He stood and faced the group. “What’s she been eating?”

An idea formed in his mind, but he needed to examine things from all sides. Think through all possibilities first. He wouldn’t rush a diagnosis again.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Pete said.

A silver-haired man joined the group. “Oh, Boone’s here. Good,” Garth said. “Where are we?”

“He’s asking about her diet. It hasn’t changed.” Pete wore the concern plainly in his blue eyes.

“Didn’t she go out with that new group a couple of days ago?” Garth glanced around, meeting Squire’s eye and then Pete’s.

“What group?” Squire asked.

“Our new working horses,” he said.

“She went,” Ethan said. “No one rode her. We just took her to have her calm spirit help the yearlings.”

“So?” Pete asked, looking at Boone and then Garth.

“Where did they go?” Boone asked, focusing on Ethan now. “What did they eat out there?” Boone studied Peony again and went back over the fence. “Show me.”

“It’s hours out there,” Ethan said, looking at Garth. “We went out to sector ten. There’s a stream out there. Some trees. Grass.”

“What kind of trees?”

Ethan’s face blanked. “I have no idea.”

Boone turned to Squire. “How fast can I get there in an ATV?” Desperation coiled in Boone. He couldn’t lose Peony, because he needed her for his therapy session next weekend.

Forty minutes later, Ethan pointed slightly to the right, and Squire adjusted the side-by-side toward the smear of trees in the distance. Garth rode beside Boone in the backseat, and the tension between the four men hadn’t lessened at all.

Once Squire brought the ATV to a stop, Boone jumped out and started searching the ground. Nothing looked toxic. No bright yellow flowers in any direction, which could indicate ragwort.

After a few more feet, though, Boone stepped on something hiding in the long grass. A crunch sounded under his boot, and he lifted his foot and felt around until he came up with the broken shell of an acorn.

“She’s eaten acorns,” he said, motioning the other men over. He looked up, the brim of his cowboy hat preventing him from examining the trees too closely. “Are these oaks?”

He stood, noting more acorns—dried from last autumn—on the ground. Sure enough, four large oaks stood among the rest of the trees thriving along this little stream.

“Oak leaves, acorns, and branches can poison a horse.” He spun and headed back to the ATV. “Let’s get back and get her on an IV. I’ll administer an activated charcoal dose as well, and then all we can do is hope for the best.”

They returned to the ranch, and Boone went about administering to Peony while Squire and Ethan filled everyone else in. He listened to Squire give instructions for the oak clean-up as well, and admiration for the man pulled through Boone. He was also very, very good at running a ranch and inspiring his men.

Once Boone finished, he joined everyone else as they headed over to the homestead for a late breakfast.

“Thank you.” Pete’s relief wasn’t hard to find on his face as they walked side-by-side. “Sorry to pull you from church.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Boone waved his hand. It was nothing because he didn’t go to church. He wasn’t sure why Pete thought he did. Boone’s family was in the ultra-religious category, but he’d stopped going in college. One more way to rebel against the family legacy, he supposed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in God. Simply that he couldn’t be bothered with one more thing to do. And the fact that his non-existent Sabbath worship didn’t satisfy his father appealed to him too.

His phone chimed, and he let the others go ahead of him up the steps as he checked it. His mother had said, Just saying hi. Love you!

The door closed leading to the kitchen above closed, leaving Boone in the quiet countryside, the blue sky above him whispering that there was a higher power on this earth, and it had just helped him save a horse’s life.

Pride and accomplishment puffed out Boone’s chest. His father didn’t understand why he couldn’t take care of pets closer to home, but Boone argued that Three Rivers wasn’t that far from Hill Country. He could be home within hours if there was an emergency.

A sense of…rightness descended on him. He wasn’t sure how to classify it. Comfort? Peace?

No, gratitude.

Boone was grateful for the chance he’d had to go to school, earn his degree, and have a career he enjoyed. He checked his watch and wondered what time church started and if he could show up smelling like charcoal and horse.

Love you too, Mom, he texted back and headed up the steps to join his ranch friends. If one of them went to church, Boone would think about going too.