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“I assume you want to comp a whole-ass engine replacement?”
“If you or Eight get salty about it, I’ll cover it. But she runs a non-profit—a farm animal rescue—so we can probably write it off as a donation.”
“Animal rescue? Does she know your sister? And did you hear that Kelsey won an award last night?”
He said it like most people would say Did you hear that she cured cancer, established world peace, and became Queen of the World last night? Dad was a sap for any of their accomplishments, but he was especially proud of Kelsey.
Hannah insisted Kelsey was Dad’s favorite. Duncan understood that point of view, but he had a clearer sense of how Dad and Kelsey had become close, so he didn’t sweat any extra sheen on his love for her. Besides, Dad had always been there for Duncan, too. As he was for Hannah.
Maybe it was just harder to be the second daughter when Kelsey was the first.
“Yeah, Dad,” he answered letting the unspoken word duh color his tone. “I was with the kids last night. She told me when they got home.”
“Right, right. It’s great, huh? I’m so proud of her.”
“It is great. But Phoebe doesn’t know her. I asked last night.”
“Phoebe, huh? That’s a pretty name. And she does rescue work? Sounds like a nice girl. So this could be something? Between you two?”
Part of the squishy family-man side of Maverick Helm was an almost grandmotherly interest in his children’s romantic lives—and real enthusiasm, so long as it wasn’t one of his daughters hooking up with a patch. For Duncan, his enthusiasm was unbridled.
Duncan rolled his eyes at him. “No idea, Dad. I just met her like twelve hours ago. But yeah, I want to see if there’s anything there.”
Dad slapped his arm. “Let’s check out her truck.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the way of an Oklahoma winter, when the stretch of freezing temperatures that had frozen the world since before Christmas finally broke, a false spring barged in through the cracks. A few days after Phoebe and Duncan had met on the side of the frozen expressway, most of the windows were open at the Ragamuffin Ranch, and the animals were full of piss and vinegar. Gremlin, their farm-slash-herd dog had spent part of the afternoon running the goats, alpacas, cows, and Puff the magic sheep around in circles, apparently just for fun for one and all. Now he was stretched out on the big rock in the corner of that pasture, basking in the sun while he kept half an eye on his weird little herd.
Phoebe had started the morning in a beater and a flannel, with her ancient corduroy jacket on top, but she’d left the jacket in the house at lunchtime, and now she was working with her sleeves rolled up. She loved these warm midwinter days; they were like ‘coming attractions’ trailers for spring.
Though he was still quarantined and would be for a few more days, Smoky was feeling his oats, too. Already he’d put on enough weight to soften the look of his ribs and hips. His eyes were brighter, his head and tail higher, and he pranced around his little turnout like a wannabe show horse.
He wasn’t miraculously recovered from a lifetime of neglect, of course. Doc LeeAnn Gaines had been out to give him a thorough exam, and Smoky had some issues that would take time to resolve—two different kinds of worms, for example, which was why Smoky would be quarantined for a while longer, and why Phoebe was going to be completely grossed out cleaning up after him for the same amount of time. Gross, gross, gross.
But Smoky was proving himself to be a really great horse. Despite his hard life, he trusted Phoebe and Mickey completely already, and he’d been curious and friendly with Margot, too. He loved company and started ‘chatting’ as soon as he heard someone coming.
