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The Texan's Tennessee Romance / The Rancher & the Reluctant Princess. Gina WilkinsЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Texan's Tennessee Romance / The Rancher & the Reluctant Princess - Gina Wilkins


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so disconcerted that she’d all but shut the door in his face. It wasn’t like her to be so flustered by a simple dinner invitation.

      The truth was, Casey Walker made her nervous. And while she’d told herself that it was nice to have such an attractive diversion from her current problems, she wondered if it would be a mistake to get involved—even temporarily—with a good-looking, younger man who obviously harbored secrets of his own.

      She really should be focusing more intently on her problems at home, she chided herself. She didn’t have time for a dalliance. But Casey was pure temptation in blue jeans and a tool belt. Would there really be any harm in flirting with him a bit while Beecham conducted her investigation?

      Carrying the bag of leftovers her aunt had insisted on sending with her, she entered through the front door and went straight to the kitchen to put the food away. She debated whether she should go out to greet Casey. It wasn’t as if he was there for a social reason. He was working, and she didn’t want to interfere with that process.

       Coward.

      She slammed the refrigerator door shut, annoyed with that nagging little voice in her head and with herself for acting so foolishly. And then she cursed herself again when someone knocked loudly on the front door and she almost jumped out of her shoes.

      Sighing in exasperation, she walked through the living room to open the front door with a smile. “Hello, Casey.”

      He nodded, looking a little distracted. He wore a denim shirt, blue plaid flannel jacket and jeans, all of which showed evidence that he’d been doing rather dirty manual labor that day. “Hi. Listen, that dog’s hovering around again. I think maybe he came back for another meal. Do you have anything?”

      “I just brought home enough leftover pot roast for a whole pack of dogs. I’ll get him some, and a bowl of water.”

      “I’ll come in and help you carry it out. We can’t walk on the deck because the sealant is still drying.”

      “All right.”

      He followed her into the kitchen. “Did you have a nice visit with your aunt and uncle?”

      She answered as she refilled the plastic bowl she’d used the day before with fresh water. “Yes, I did. Very nice.”

      Handing him the water, she opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of leftover roast. “Did you have any problems sealing the deck?” she asked to keep the small talk going.

      “No. I used Kyle’s sprayer and everything worked fine.”

      “Good. So I should be able to walk on it tomorrow?”

      “Yeah. Give it twenty-four hours or so and it should be good to go.”

      She warmed the meat just to room temperature, only a few seconds. She didn’t want the hungry dog to burn its mouth. “Okay,” she said, taking the plate from the microwave. “Let’s go see if he’s still there.”

      “I have a feeling he will be,” Casey replied, letting her precede him. “He looked pretty hungry. And hopeful.”

      “Should we call animal control while it’s here?”

      Casey hesitated. “Give me a couple of days to see if I can make friends with him first. Maybe Kyle will know someone who’d give the dog a home if we can get it to trust us.”

      Natalie was still wearing the clothes she had donned for church that morning, a black waist-length jacket buttoned over a lace-trimmed green cami with a knee-length, black-and-green checked skirt. Fortunately, her black shoes had a reasonably sensible, two-inch heel so she had little trouble following Casey across the uneven lawn toward the woods.

      She spotted the dog just as Casey stopped ahead of her. Looking as ragged and dirty as it had the day before, it lurked in the shadows, watching them warily, prepared to run if they made any sudden moves.

      Holding the water bowl in his left hand, Casey reached out with his right to take the food plate from Natalie. He crooned quietly to the dog as he took a few slow steps forward and knelt to set the bowls on the ground. “Here you go, buddy. Come on. Have some nice pot roast.”

      Casey stayed by the plates, waiting to see if the dog was hungry enough to approach the food even with Casey so close. The dog remained where it was, looking from the food to Casey and then back again, its thin body quivering.

      Casey sighed, stood and moved back to Natalie’s side, several yards from the food. “Okay. We won’t get too close.”

      Apparently reassured, the dog crept closer to the food. It ate quickly, finishing the roast and then cleaning the plate with a few more licks before washing the meal down with several noisy laps of water. Satisfied, it looked at Natalie and Casey again. After a moment in which none of them moved, it gave a couple of quick, tentative wags of its matted tail, then turned and ran back into the woods.

      “I think he thanked us,” Casey murmured, glancing at Natalie with a grin.

      Though she wasn’t prone to anthropomorphizing, she returned the smile and said, “Maybe he did. Do you think he’ll be back?”

      “Could be. I’ll pick up some dog food this evening. That would be healthier for him than table scraps.”

      “I’m not sure we’re doing him any favors by not calling animal control. At least he’d be safe and well-fed in an animal shelter. And the nights are starting to get pretty cold.”

      “I don’t think they’d be able to catch him,” Casey argued. “And I don’t like the thought of him being trapped. I think I’ll be able to tame him enough to find him a home. He seems like he wants to make friends. He’s just a little skittish.”

      “And how long do you think it will take to tame him to that point?”

      “I, uh, don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug. “If I haven’t made any progress in the next couple of days, I’ll call animal control and ask for advice.”

      She looked at him curiously. “Why are you so reluctant to call them? I’m sure they can catch him very humanely. And it would be so much safer for him to be…”

      “In a cage?” Casey broke in to ask. “Deprived of his freedom and locked up somewhere for his own good?”

      Startled by his tone, she tilted her head to study him more closely. “Um—?”

      His face darkened with what might have been a flush. “Sorry. You’re right, he’d probably be better off in a shelter. But I’d still like to give it a couple of days. The weather’s supposed to be nice for the rest of the week, so I think he’ll be fine.”

      She couldn’t say she understood, but it wasn’t as if the dog was bothering her. “Should we leave the water bowl out?”

      Still looking a little sheepish, Casey shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt, though there’s plenty of water around this area.”

      “And the food?”

      “No. Too many other critters to be lured out if you leave food sitting out here. We’ll just feed the dog when we see him.”

      She nodded and picked up the empty plate. “Fine. There’s more of the leftover pot roast, if you’re hungry.”

      He chuckled. “Feeding the other stray in your yard?”

      Smiling a little, she said, “I’ll even get you a bowl of water, if you’re thirsty.”

      He shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. I brought lunch with me today. I ate at the picnic table and enjoyed the view. It was nice.”

      “So, you’re finished for the day?”

      “Almost. I just need to do a little more caulking on the west end of the cabin. Maybe another hour or so today.”

      She nodded. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be inside.”


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