he stood there still chatting up Abigail.
Activity in the corner caught his eye when the worked calf scrambled to her feet and ran for mama. The cowboys at the heater ribbed one another, no doubt casting blame and calling each other’s manhood into question.
“All right, boys,” Wade called. “Back to work.”
A moment later Dylan took his hat from Maddy’s head, set it on his own, then sauntered back toward him. Wade worked his rope, readying it for the next calf, telling himself he didn’t care if Abigail had fallen for Dylan’s charm, didn’t care if they were going out tomorrow night, didn’t care if they got hitched and had a passel of kids.
Dylan was slipping on the gloves Maddy had fetched as he passed Wade. “Must be losing my touch,” he mumbled.
Wade smothered the grin that fought for release.
9
I ’m going for a walk, Maddy,” Abigail said. “Want to come?”
Maddy didn’t look up from the computer game. “No thanks.”
“All right. I won’t be long.”
Wade had given Maddy permission to use Abigail’s laptop as long as she stayed in the living room and used it for games only. The girl was already a Ball Maze fanatic.
Abigail stepped onto the porch, letting the screen fall behind her. The night was getting cooler, and the moon rose in the sky, big and round, blanketing the treetops with a pale, silvery light. She trotted down the porch steps and started up the lane at a brisk pace. She’d neglected her exercise.
Wade had come home for dinner, then he was off again—to the barn, if the light up ahead was any indication. He was as passionate about his work as she was, apparently. It was hard being away from her job, the action, the satisfaction she got from writing her column.
She glanced at her watch, turning it so the moon illuminated the face. She’d give her sister another hour. It was a Friday night after all, and Reagan might have a date. It could happen.
Abigail breathed deeply, drawing in the fragrance of fresh grass and the loamy smell of dirt. Even the moonlight seemed to have a fragrance out here. It was a different world, a different planet. The pace was slower, and everything worked on nature’s schedule.
As Abigail neared the barn she heard a rustling, a low voice, and she turned into the doorway. The smell of fresh hay and cow flesh packed a wallop. She followed the sounds to the end of the barn where Wade squatted by a sleeping calf.
She heard the low murmur of his voice and stopped, wondering if he’d be embarrassed to be caught crooning to a cow.
As if sensing her presence, Wade turned. It was the pose from the Sexiest Man photo, minus the ornery smile.
“Maddy okay?” he asked in that low, Texas drawl of his.
“Fine. I was taking a walk and heard you. Everything all right?”
He faced the calf as Abigail approached. “He’s sick.”
She squatted beside Wade. The calf didn’t open his eyes as she ran her hand down his hide. The fur was smooth, not as soft as she expected. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Stress or allergic to the vaccine. They’re vulnerable after they’re worked—little ones like this guy especially.”
“He’ll be okay?”
“Probably not.”
Abigail stroked him again. Poor little guy. Mama stood nearby, and Abigail wondered if the cow knew, if she would grieve her baby.
Wade went to a stall where another calf lay. The animal eyed Wade with huge brown eyes.
“That one sick too?”
“Just weak and stiff. He’ll be fine.” Wade darted a glance at her. “You and Maddy getting on okay?”
Abigail wondered if he’d ever hold eye contact long enough for her to get a read on him. “Sure. She’s a great kid.” Maybe this was a good time to address a couple issues, since he’d asked . . . “She’s at that age where she’s growing like a weed. Would you mind if I took her shopping for a few things?”
She didn’t think she imagined the relief that chased across his features.
“Be fine.” He reached for his
Activity in the corner caught his eye when the worked calf scrambled to her feet and ran for mama. The cowboys at the heater ribbed one another, no doubt casting blame and calling each other’s manhood into question.
“All right, boys,” Wade called. “Back to work.”
A moment later Dylan took his hat from Maddy’s head, set it on his own, then sauntered back toward him. Wade worked his rope, readying it for the next calf, telling himself he didn’t care if Abigail had fallen for Dylan’s charm, didn’t care if they were going out tomorrow night, didn’t care if they got hitched and had a passel of kids.
Dylan was slipping on the gloves Maddy had fetched as he passed Wade. “Must be losing my touch,” he mumbled.
Wade smothered the grin that fought for release.
9
I ’m going for a walk, Maddy,” Abigail said. “Want to come?”
Maddy didn’t look up from the computer game. “No thanks.”
“All right. I won’t be long.”
Wade had given Maddy permission to use Abigail’s laptop as long as she stayed in the living room and used it for games only. The girl was already a Ball Maze fanatic.
Abigail stepped onto the porch, letting the screen fall behind her. The night was getting cooler, and the moon rose in the sky, big and round, blanketing the treetops with a pale, silvery light. She trotted down the porch steps and started up the lane at a brisk pace. She’d neglected her exercise.
Wade had come home for dinner, then he was off again—to the barn, if the light up ahead was any indication. He was as passionate about his work as she was, apparently. It was hard being away from her job, the action, the satisfaction she got from writing her column.
She glanced at her watch, turning it so the moon illuminated the face. She’d give her sister another hour. It was a Friday night after all, and Reagan might have a date. It could happen.
Abigail breathed deeply, drawing in the fragrance of fresh grass and the loamy smell of dirt. Even the moonlight seemed to have a fragrance out here. It was a different world, a different planet. The pace was slower, and everything worked on nature’s schedule.
As Abigail neared the barn she heard a rustling, a low voice, and she turned into the doorway. The smell of fresh hay and cow flesh packed a wallop. She followed the sounds to the end of the barn where Wade squatted by a sleeping calf.
She heard the low murmur of his voice and stopped, wondering if he’d be embarrassed to be caught crooning to a cow.
As if sensing her presence, Wade turned. It was the pose from the Sexiest Man photo, minus the ornery smile.
“Maddy okay?” he asked in that low, Texas drawl of his.
“Fine. I was taking a walk and heard you. Everything all right?”
He faced the calf as Abigail approached. “He’s sick.”
She squatted beside Wade. The calf didn’t open his eyes as she ran her hand down his hide. The fur was smooth, not as soft as she expected. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Stress or allergic to the vaccine. They’re vulnerable after they’re worked—little ones like this guy especially.”
“He’ll be okay?”
“Probably not.”
Abigail stroked him again. Poor little guy. Mama stood nearby, and Abigail wondered if the cow knew, if she would grieve her baby.
Wade went to a stall where another calf lay. The animal eyed Wade with huge brown eyes.
“That one sick too?”
“Just weak and stiff. He’ll be fine.” Wade darted a glance at her. “You and Maddy getting on okay?”
Abigail wondered if he’d ever hold eye contact long enough for her to get a read on him. “Sure. She’s a great kid.” Maybe this was a good time to address a couple issues, since he’d asked . . . “She’s at that age where she’s growing like a weed. Would you mind if I took her shopping for a few things?”
She didn’t think she imagined the relief that chased across his features.
“Be fine.” He reached for his
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