“We left you messages.”
“I got them.”
“You ever think to respond?”
“I have no excuse,” I acknowledge. “I should have called.”
“You had Mel so worried she started baking.” A shudder rips through him.
I wince. “Any casualties?”
“Carrot-top. He swiped a cookie off the patio table and cracked a tooth.”
Of all the donkeys, the playful and nosy Carrot-top is my favorite. Ross rescued him after receiving a call from a sympathetic farmer who intervened when he spotted a group of bored children whipping the donkey with barbed wire to make him run.
“Still too chicken to tell Mel the truth about her baking?”
“Yep,” Ross admits freely. “But you’re welcome to try.”
“No, thanks.” I don’t want to be the one to hurt her. “Where is Mel?”
“She popped to the store to stock up on supplies.”
I nod, my gaze once again drawn to the dogs.
Ross smiles. “Saba’s around here somewhere.”
I let out a long whistle. A heartbeat later, a giant German Shepherd comes racing from behind the house toward us.
“Guess Saba’s missed you,” Ross observes wryly as a blur of black and brown skids to a dust-raising stop in front of me.
Saba wants to jump—you can see his entire body quivering with the urge—but training asserts itself and instead he presses himself in ecstatic abandon against my legs, whining his welcome. I crouch down and put my arms around the dog’s thick neck, allowing Saba to wash my neck and jawline with his tongue.
“Hey, boy, I missed you too,” I whisper roughly into that beautiful coat of fur. I rest my head there a moment longer, wanting to delay what I know is coming, but I feel the probing weight of Ross’s stare, so I straighten and face my friend.
Now that the niceties are over, Ross runs a critical eye over me, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.
I hold up a weary hand. “No need to tell me I look a little worse for wear.”
His eyes flick to the bandage on my head. “You need stitches?”
“Later.”
“Looks like we’ll be talking about a lot of things later. What about your guests?”
I head toward the RAV and Ross falls into step beside me. “They’re in the car. Nolene’s one of them.”
His eyes tighten at the corners. “You know how I feel about her.”
“I know. She won’t be staying long.”
“Make sure she keeps her views to herself.”
“We’re all on the same side here, Ross.”
“It’s not always a matter of two sides,” he retorts. “There are a lot of different lines drawn here.”
I have no opportunity to reply because the RAV’s back door opens and Nolene steps out, stretching her arms above her head. “Ross.”
