“As soon as I saw it, I knew it was right.”
“I can see why.” I’m happy that he felt he could share his home with me. I startle when a big, black, burly head pokes out from the barn, until I realize it’s a dog, a dog that seems very uninterested we just woke him from his slumber as he yawns and saunters toward us. Asher crouches down to rub the fur behind his ears.
“Were you a good lad today?” he asks as the dog jumps up, his front paws settling on Asher’s thighs. He’s both massive and intimidating, but it’s obvious he’s Asher’s baby.
“Hold down the fort?” he continues as the dog nuzzles in.
“Yeah, you did. And now you’re looking for your dinner, aren’t ya?”
The dog paws at him, tail wagging like crazy, and I almost melt into a puddle with this softer side of him I’m sure no one ever really sees.
“Who’s this?” I ask, moving toward them and holding my hand out.
“This is Duke,” Asher says as his bear-like best friend hears my voice and strolls over to investigate me. He’s calm as he sniffs me, so I go to pet his head as he cozies up to me.
“A gentle giant,” I say.
“He doesn’t meet a lot of new people,” Asher admits. “But he seems to like you.”
A flash of orange catches my eye before I can answer, and I spot a tabby cat milling around one of the doors to the barn.He has a cat too?
The cat rubs his back against the edge of the door as he looks at me, curious and utterly adorable. My heart swells in my chest as I think about my little Biscuit. This cat looks very similar, only he’s still very young, hardly more than a kitten.
“Quite the animal lover,” I note as I narrow my eyes at Asher. I can’t figure this man out.
Asher’s face morphs into a scowl. “He’snot mine.”
“He’s in your barn.”
“Yeah. But he’s not mine. Although he thinks he owns the place, and Duke likes him.”
“Well, at least Duke has some common sense,” I say to Duke, who gruffs in what I’d like to think is agreement as I let go of his head and make my way over to the cat. I stop about a foot away and kneel down. He seems a little skittish, unsure of me at first. But after a moment, he comes right to me, purring as I scratch behind his ears.
“I’m pretty sure he’s a runaway from the farm about a mile down the road.” Asher shrugs. “He just hangs out here.”
“What’s his name?”
“I call him Dick.”
I turn and frown at him. “That’s not very nice, is it? Is he a big meany?” I ask, turning back to Dick. “Maybe he just isn’t a pussy guy after all, huh?”
“Christ, woman,” I hear Asher grit out as I pick up the cat. He’s heavy and warm and purrs into the crook of my arm.
“He just wants some love. How long has he been showing up?”
“A few months.”
“What do you eat, big guy?” I ask Dick as he lets out a little meow.
“He eats the mice around here, and whatever I bring out for Duke from my kitchen.”
I nuzzle into his fur. “Tell the big bad meany you’d like some pumpkin too.” I turn and face Asher. “Pumpkin was my cat’s favorite treat.”
“Pumpkin?” Asher queries as he picks up a stick from his grass and tosses it for Duke to retrieve.
“Cats usually have temperamental stomachs. It’s good for them.”
Asher lets out a grunt as Duke finds the stick and redelivers it. “I’m not about to spoil the damn barn cat.”
