Sawyer’s eyebrow flicks up with a look that tells me maybe shedidmean it.
“He just doesn’t like being trapped in such a small space.”
She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch. “You never could say no when it came to animals. You’re like a real-life Snow White. I don’t know why I thought you’d be able to go check out the horses without finding something for yourself.”
“It’s not for myself,” I argue.
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t mine.”
“I mean, I’ll take care of him while I’m here, but he can’t come back with me... for obvious reasons.”
“You mean your apartment doesn’t allow pigs?” she deadpans.
“I’d have to read the fine print to be sure,” I say, biting back a smile.
She scoffs. “You planning on gifting that banshee to Wes when you go?”
“I’ll figure something out. You saw him, Sawyer. I couldn’t just leave him there."
She mumbles something under her breath that I can’t make out over the pig’s screaming. He really was not a fan of car rides.
I cringe as I catch a whiff of the stench now emanating from the crate.
Sawyer’s lips curl and her nose wrinkles. “I swear to God if that smell doesn’t come out of my truck, you’re buying me a new one.”
“I’m sorry,” I say for the hundredth time.
Her brow furrows as we pull up the long drive of Dawson Ranch. “You’d better figure out what you’re doing with that pig fast because I’m sure Wes will have the same questions I do.”
I see what she means as I follow her gaze to where Wes and Tripp are walking toward the house from the feed barn. Sawyer parks the truck, and I hop out, glancing warily at the pig in the crate resting on the back seat. You can hear the noise even with the doors closed.
Wes’ gaze swings to Sawyer. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Of course I didn’t,” she says, directing her gaze toward me.
His eyes roll, and he lets out an exhausted sigh. “Quinn.”
I can’t stand the big-brother look he’s giving me right now. Like I’m a child and can’t possibly understand the ramifications of my actions.
“Wes, I’ll take care of him. You won’t need to worry about a thing.”
“I feel like I’ve heard that before.”
“I’m an adult, and I’m a veterinarian. I know how to take care of a pot-bellied pig. I just need to use some fencing to make a good little home for him.”
“Are you expecting Pops to take care of the thing when you leave?” Wes questions. “The old man can barely take care of himself at this point.”
I look down at my feet. “No, I’ll figure it out.”
“Babe: Pig in the City,” Tripp says, a teasing smile in place.
“I couldn’t leave him at the rescue. He’d been there for over a year in a small pen. His eyes were so sad. He looked depressed, didn’t he, Sawyer?”
She glances heavenward. “Quinn, don’t drag me into this. I let you haul him in my truck. I told you getting a pig on a whim was a terrible idea.”
“Iknow how much work a pig will be, unlike the previous owners. I have no job and all the time in the world right now to work with him. It’s perfect.”
I desperately need something to fill more of my time. I was used to burning my candle at both ends. My days at the vet clinic had always been long and chaotic. All this peace and quiet while I waited for Pops to be released from the hospital was making me feel a little lost and a lot antsy.
