What if Hank was in a kennel? She didn’t think Remy was unkind to animals. If he were, she would never have developed a fixation on him no matter how sexy he was. Rodents before bro-dents. That was her motto.
But he was an inexperienced dog owner by his own admission, so it was possible he just didn’t know what to do with Hank during the day.
She heard a motor rumbling and the sound of tires on gravel, and she turned to see his shiny red truck barreling up the road. And there was Hank, sitting proudly in the passenger seat, tongue hanging out. His shaggy brown fur looked glossy, even from where Lydia was standing. Had Remy brushed him?
She blinked. She could hardly believe it. And then she took note of the man himself. He was wearing a cowboy hat, grinning, singing along to the radio.
It took him a second to notice her. When he did, his expression went blank, and he pulled up beside her car, killing the engine and getting out of the driver’s seat.
“Didn’t expect you this early.”
“I did send you a text. The shelter is only open until four on Tuesdays.”
“I see.”
He rounded the front of the truck and went to the passenger side, then opened the door up. She half expected Hank to leap out. But instead Remy reached inside and picked the dog up, placing him gingerly on the ground. She blinked. “So, things are going well.”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Yesterday, you seemed so . . . down on it.”
“I’m down on anything pertaining to my dad.”
He walked past her, and she was surprised to see Hank follow at the edge of his boot heel, as if he was superglued to him. No leash required.
She had just been thinking what an amazing thing it was that the shelter allowed people to find animals that matched their needs perfectly. But apparently, Remy had found his perfect match in Hank. They were like long-lost soulmates, and she wasn’t sure if she had ever seen anything quite like that. She followed him up the front porch steps and into the house. Hank went straight into the living room and jumped up onto the leather couch, causing the throw on the back of it to slide down and cover him. He rested his chin on his front paws and looked utterly at home and satisfied.
Remy crossed his arms and pushed his cowboy hat up. “I thought we had a chat about that, Hank. I am unsure about you being on the furniture.”
Lydia chuckled. “I think you’ve lost that battle.”
“Maybe,” he said.
“I talked to Shelley at the equine rescue. She said that the three horses should be ready to move to a nonmedical facility in about a week. They’re doing well.”
He nodded. “I have plenty of room.”
“Do you have use for three more horses?”
“I don’t need to have use for them. They can stand out in the field and live the rest of their lives happy and well fed.” He grimaced. “Listen, Lydia, I admit that I’m not the bleeding heart about animals that you are. But my dad wasn’t a good man. He treated everybody that came into his life—man or beast—like they were there to serve him. And if they didn’t serve him, they didn’t matter. If I can do even one thing to counteract some of that . . . to take away some of the harm, I want to do it. I can’t change the way people see me, I can’t do anything about whatever reputation I’ve ended up with around town by virtue of the fact that I’m related to Hunter Lane and Cassie Elliott, but I can try to do good all on my own. If no one ever sees it . . . that doesn’t matter. I’ve done alright for myself.”
It was a beautiful thing to say, but it made Lydia feel profoundly sad. “But you deserve to be seen for who you are. You deserve for people to realize that you’re a good man.”
“It’s not about deserving anything,” he said. “Leastways not from my perspective. I don’t mind. I have my house up here, I have my ranch . . . I don’t need recognition.”
“Don’t you want it?”
“Not especially. I’ve never really seen the need. It just doesn’t matter overly much to me. I don’t have plans to start a happy family here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think that kind of thing is for other people. People who grew up with a different kind of life. People who . . . people who had it just a little bit different.”
“My family loves you,” she said.
I love you.
The words welled up deep and true inside her. There was a reason she had never been in a serious relationship with anyone else. There was a reason that although she had gone out with a couple of men a couple of different times, it had never gone past a chaste kiss at the door.
