“A joke.” Walker’s tone could have frozen the air between them. “Sunny’s bleeding, and Sharpe’s truck is in a ditch. That your idea of funny?”
Before River could answer, a battered blue pickup with “Garrison Veterinary Services” emblazoned on the side pulled up in front of Walker’s truck. The driver’s door swung open, and a woman jumped out, dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, veterinary bag already in hand. She wore worn jeans tucked into mud-splattered boots. Boone’s stomach dropped as recognition hit him.
Not old Doc Garrison, but his daughter, Delilah.
She wasn’t the skinny thirteen-year-old he remembered, all knobby knees and freckles and braces.
She was all woman now.
“Lila,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.
She met his eyes briefly and gave a warm, genuine smile. “Good to see you, Boone. I’m was so sorry to hear about your mom’s declining health.”
His throat went tight. “Yeah. Uh, thanks.”
She turned her attention to Sunny. “Hello, pretty girl. This looks nasty. What happened?”
“Fence wire,” he answered, grateful for the subject change. This, he could handle. This was safer ground. He watched as she gently moved his makeshift bandage aside to examine thewound. Her hands were steady, competent. “Cut herself trying to get back through after this genius let them out.” He jerked his head toward River.
Lila glanced up at River, who had the decency to look ashamed, then back to the wound. “I’ll need to clean this and get a better look. Can we move her to the barn?”
“I brought the trailer,” Walker said, straightening.
“Good. Can you bring it over? I’d rather she not walk more than necessary until I assess the damage.”
“Sure thing.” He went to his truck and backed it up until the trailer was positioned just a few yards from where Sunny stood trembling.
Lila reached into her bag and pulled out a syringe. “This is a mild sedative. Just enough to keep her calm for transport.”
Jonah hadn’t moved from Sunny’s head, his hand still stroking her neck, murmuring reassurances. “Will she be okay?”
“I won’t lie to you.” She administered the injection. “It’s a deep laceration. But if we can get her cleaned up and stitched, and it didn’t hit a tendon, she should heal well.”
Her voice was kind and matter-of-fact. Professional. She’d clearly said these words to worried owners before.
“Trailer’s ready,” Walker called.
Together, they coaxed Sunny up the ramp. The sedative had taken effect, making her docile if still unsteady. Jonah never left her side, his hand on her side, guiding her with gentle pressure.
“I’m still calling the sheriff!” Dennis shouted from his truck. “This isn’t over, Nash!”
Everyone ignored him, too focused on loading the mare safely.
Once Sunny was secured in the trailer, Lila turned to Boone. “I’ll follow you back to the ranch.”
“Thanks,” he said, trying to ignore the strange flutter inhis chest at how she’d matured. The girl he’d once teased about her science fair projects had become a woman who commanded attention without even trying. “We’ve got a fully equipped barn. Whatever you need.”
“Good.” She hesitated, then added, “You should know Luke’s with me today. He was riding along on calls.”
As if summoned, Luke Garrison stepped out of the passenger side of the blue pickup. He was broader than Boone remembered, his once-lanky frame filled out with muscle. The years had been kind to both Garrisons, it seemed.
“Callahan,” Luke said, nodding stiffly as he approached. “Heard you were back.”
“Been back a while now,” Boone replied, keeping his tone neutral. Luke had been his best friend once, but that was years ago, before the military, before prison, before Valor Ridge. They might as well be strangers now.
Luke’s eyes narrowed, jaw tightening as he looked Boone up and down. “Yeah, well. Heard all about your little rehab ranch. Town’s buzzing about it.”
The way he said it—like Valor Ridge was some kind of joke—made Boone’s hackles rise.
