The sound of canine footsteps sounded on the porch and Peyton exhaled. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.
Good ol’ Red.
Stella, who’d moved to the railing, clasped her arms in front of her again.
“You can’t be afraid of Red, sweetheart.” Peyton told her. Setting his coffee aside, he bent down to rub behind Red’s ears.
Both curiosity and distrust flickered across her face as she watched him with his dog. She’d changed into jeans, which was a good thing, but also a bad thing. On one hand, he was glad she’d brought along some practical clothing, on the other hand he found her even more attractive now. She seemed more real somehow–not some plastic city girl who was more comfortable with traffic than cattle.
And damn if she wasn’t real.
The sight of her bent over in nothing but those iddy biddy underwear was burned on his brain forever. Hot pink. And her bra had matched. Just thinking about it now made him itch to… He cut himself short. Not the right time. Not the right person. He ought to be tarred and feathered for letting his mind go there.
She licked her lips and took one tentative step towards them. “He probably knows that I’m afraid. I’ve never had a dog.”
Peyton scrubbed his hand along Red’s back. “He won’t hurt you.” And then he reached a hand towards her. He hadn’t meant to. As soon as he did it he wanted to snatch it back, but it was too late.
She took hold of it and crouched beside him. He’d held her hand twice already but both of those times had felt like a business agreement.
This was different. She clasped his fingers trustingly. Her hand felt soft, fragile.
She let go quickly though, and then gave Red the most pathetic pet Peyton ever had the misfortune to witness. But this was progress.
“Hey Red.” She grew bolder, gradually running her hand along the top of the dog’s back. And then she flashed her eyes at him, smiling. “He likes it, doesn’t he?”
He’d never seen eyes like Stella’s before. Silver grey– not blue. Even with that long hair pulled into a pony tail, she managed to look exotic. “He does.” His voice came out gravelly sounding so he cleared his throat. “How come you never had a dog?”
She straightened her back at his question. “I grew up in an apartment with my mom.” By now Red had laid down on the ground, completely relaxed and willing to be coddled all night. Stella surprised Peyton by dropping to the ground herself and sitting with crossed legs. She seemed nearly as comfortable as Red now. “You can’t have pets in an apartment.” She explained this to him as though he ought to know such information already.
He’d meant to walk her down to the barn, show her the horses and describe some of the chores Corinne did but decided this was better. He pulled over one of the patio chairs instead. It was good for her to make friends with Red. She’d more than likely be on her own around here soon and he didn’t want her feeling afraid.
“You and Corinne met in college, right?” He wanted to learn more about this woman who’d dropped everything to come help his sister.
Still rubbing Red’s back, she nodded. “Freshman year.”
“I’ll bet the two of you got into all kinds of trouble.”
She laughed at that before answering. “We had fun. I imagine you were a lot more trouble than us. You went to college, didn’t you? I kind of remember Corinne mentioning something about that.”
A subject Peyton hated. He ought to be over it by now but… he wasn’t.
“I did.”
“What was your major?” Red licked at her hand now and she wasn’t pulling away.
Stella Fairchild was some sort of social media guru. That boyfriend of hers could be a millionaire for all he knew. “Pre-med.” Peyton had worked hard in school. Pulled a 3.98 and been accepted into a good medical program.
And then walked away.
Her hand stopped petting Red, but the dog nudged her to continue. She resumed her motions but now watched him closely. Did she know? Corinne had to have told her about their parents’ accident. They’d been killed when their car went off an icy pass. His sister had been a senior in high school.
“So, you aced all those classes and then returned to work the ranch?” Yep, she knew.
Peyton nodded.
“Do you like it? Running the ranch?”
Maybe Peyton ought to have taken her on that tour after all. He’d wanted to learn a little about her and she’d turned the tables on him. But did he? Like running the ranch?
