Page 11 of Hard Rain Coming
“I tried.” Mike Paul slowly shook his head. “She doesn’t get along with the twodogs I have, and the cat hates her.” She saw his disappointment. “We’ve tried, Viv, but no one seems to want her.”
Vivian knew how that felt. What it meant to mean nothing to anyone. To be forgotten and abandoned. Her gaze moved to Dallas, and she found him watching her closely. Too closely. She needed to get her head right. Lump in her throat, she waited a few seconds before turning back to Mike Paul.
“I’ll take her,” she said softly. “You can’t put her down.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “She might be old and unlovable, but she still deserves to be taken care of. She deserves to live.”
Mike Paul’s hand slowly fell away from the dog. “She’s a lot of work. She’s on a special diet, can’t see all that well, and she’s a diabetic, so she needs insulin shots.”
Vivian looked down at the dog, her decision made. “I don’t care. Give me whatever I need. I’m taking her home with me.”
“What if she’s no good with kids?” Dallas spoke up, his expression unreadable. “Nora and Hank might be a lot for her.”
“She deserves to live.”
“She does,” Dallas replied. “But a dog is a lot of responsibility, and you have a habit of throwing things away when you’re done with them. Remember Gunner?”
“You’re an asshole,” she said through thinned lips. Hurt. The kind that sliced deep and hit her in the chest. “Gunner was yours, and you know it.”
“Hey now,” Mike Paul said lightly. “Let’s keep things civil.”
Dallas took a step forward, and Lilith growled. Then barked, her little body vibrating with energy. She didn’t stop growling until Dallas backed up.
“See?” Mike Paul said, looking from Dallas to Vivian. “Dogs pick up on vibes.”
Vivian glared at Dallas while she cuddled the dog and whispered, “You’ve got great taste in character, Lilith. We’re going to be great friends.”
Vivian sailed past Dallas and followed Mike Paul into his office. She might be crazy for taking in an old, sick dog, but damned if it didn’t feel good. Lilith deserved to live and be loved.
And so did she.
Chapter Four
By the time Dallas got Vivian and her new pet back to the ranch, it was midafternoon. The drive had been a long one. There’d been a delay because of some idiot who thought it was a good idea to rubberneck an accident on the other side of the interstate, which in turn led to the idiot rear-ending a semi half a mile ahead of Dallas.
The only good thing about the trip was that right up until they got to Mike Paul’s place, Vivian had slept. And Dal? Well, he’d spent more time than he cared to admit remembering things he thought he’d forgotten. Like how she made noises in her sleep. Or how the sunlight brought out burnt amber highlights in her dark hair and made her eyes glitter. He remembered the first time he knew she existed as something more than background noise. Sure, he knew her as one of Benton’s younger sisters, but up until then, she’d never registered as anything other than annoying.
Until she became something more on a hot summer day, mid-June or July, when he’d been skipping stones at the jumping rock with Benton. They’d snuck a few beers and had been there for hours when Vivian showed up and wanted to join. Back then, she’d been a skinny thing, maybe ten or eleven, with wild hair and a mouth that was salted with the kind of language usually heard in the bunkhouse. Dallas had been impressed with her vocabulary. Had even told her so, though all she did was scowl at him.
Benton told her to leave, and she’d grabbed a rock from his hand and skipped it across the water like a pro, farther than he or Benton had been able to do. Then she’d given both of them the middle finger salute and left as quick as she’d come.
The next few years had brought changes. She’d gone from that precocious, in-your-face, skinny preteen to an even wilder teenager. She became the kind of kid that folks talked about, not only because trouble had a habit of following her, but because she was beautiful. The kind of girl that made an impression. The kind that got noticed.
And he sure as hell had noticed.
He wondered how things would have turned out if he’d just left well enough alone. If she had never crossed his radar. If he had never touched her. Would they be friends? Could they be friends?
Dallas watched her walk up the front steps and across the large porch, that bag of bones and fur pressed close to her chest. She didn’t turn around or acknowledge him. Didn’t thank him for driving to Wyoming and bringing her home. She disappeared inside, and that was that.
He hadn’t expected anything more. He pointed the truck toward the outbuildings and drove over, his mind on a couple of things he needed to do before he finally went back to his place for the night.
The barn dogs ran over as he exited the truck and headed inside. He gave them a pat, which was enough for them, and watched as they ran past him to sniff around the truck tires, no doubt on sensory overload from Mike Paul’s place.
He spied Benton and one of the new guys, a drifter named Griff, and walked toward them, his stride slow and easy.
“Griff,” he said with a quick nod to Benton. “I checked in on the Appaloosa. She’s doing okay, and the colt is nursing on his own. I figure we can get them back here within the week.”
“Good to hear. Nora’s been asking every day since Mike Paul came and got her.” Benton stretched and grimaced.
“You okay, old man?” Dallas chuckled.