More guest coming to watch, she wondered? Mike hadn’t mentioned an extra time slot, and right now probably wouldn’t be good. She was expecting a private client within the hour.
Gathering Muffin’s leash, she shielded her eyes with one hand to get a better look. Her heart gave a little leap when she realized it wasn’t Darren back for round three or one of the ranch’s guests. It was Lyle, carrying what looked like a picnic basket in one hand, his cowboy hat tilted teasingly low over his brow. Mercy, that man was one tall drink of iced tea! One look and she was thirsty as all get out.
“Have to hand it to you, Vet,” she called out as he got closer. “You’ve got a flair for entrances.”
Lyle grinned, tipping his hat as he came to a stop just outside the training yard fence. “A couple of guests changed their mind about going on a picnic. Couldn’t stand to see good food going to waste, and figured since it’s lunch time, you might be just as hungry as me?”
Heather raised an eyebrow, tugging off her work gloves. “A picnic?”
Lyle leaned casually against the fence, his easy smirk softening into something more genuine. “Nothing scandalous, Firefly. I promise. Just some cold sweet tea and a couple of sandwiches Mike whipped up. Think of it as a Watkins goodwill gesture. Can’t let our newly hired dog training demonstrator go hungry.”
Heather smiled despite herself, her resolve to keep her walls intact weakening with every little thing he did. “Sweet tea, huh? I’d say you know your way to a Texan woman’s heart, but you’ve had that figured out for years, haven’t you?”
“C’mon now. Don’t flatter me, or I’ll start thinking you missed me while I was off in Montana.”
She rolled her eyes but stepped closer, opening the gate so he could join her in the shaded corner of the yard. There’d been a lot of years and a lot of life between their youth, his move to Montana and her return to Bear Valley. And although their paths hadn’t crossed since she’d gone off to college, she had to admit that she had missed him over the years—the fantasy of him, at least.
“Go ahead and set that down. I’ve got about a half an hour before my next client gets here.”
Lyle placed the basket on the ground, giving Muffin a slight nod of approval as the Border Collie padded over to investigate him cautiously. He crouched to scratch the dog behind the ears. “You’ve got a good eye for picking your rescues. This one’s gonna be a keeper.”
“She’s a work in progress,” Heather said softly, tinkering with Muffin’s collar. “But I think we all are, in our own way.”
Lyle’s gaze flicked up to hers at that remark, his expression unreadable for a moment before he straightened and leaned against the fence post. “How’s she doing on the scent-training?”
“Better,” Heather replied. “She’s getting faster at finding specific items, but she has moments where she hesitates. Still a little scared, I think.”
“Can’t fault her for that,” Lyle murmured. “Sometimes a little fear just means she’s got more heart than she knows what to do with.”
Heather wasn’t sure if he was still talking about Muffin, or if they’d crossed into metaphor territory, but the weight of his gaze made her stomach dip like she’d walked too close to the edge of a cliff.
She unfolded a couple of lawn chairs she kept for clients or spectators and offered him a seat. “Most dogs I work with can’t hide what they’re feeling,” she said after a beat, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she sat and unwrapped one of the sandwiches he’d brought. “People, on the other hand? Y’all are harder to read.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Lyle replied, his tone light but his eyes still holding hers. “You seem pretty good at spotting who’s trouble.”
If she weren’t so unwavering in her resolve to protect her heart, she might’ve admitted that Lyle Watkins was exactly the kind of trouble she didn’t have an answer for. He leaned forward in the cloth director’s chair, elbows resting on widespread, denim-clad knees, a sandwich held in his large, work-worn hands. Just looking at him made her mind go blank. For heaven’s sake, she wasn’t normally the kind of woman who had to pick her tongue up off the ground in the mere presence of a sexy, handsome man.
Needing a distraction, she took a slow sip of the sweet tea he’d handed her and carefully changed the subject.
“You mentioned Charlotte’s staying close to Joe these days,” she said. “How’s she doing with everything?”
Lyle exhaled, his features softening in the way they always did when he talked about the little girl. “She’s hanging in there. Joe’s good with her and she seems to trust him. But she’s still got days where the smallest thing will set her off. I don’t always know if I’m helping or making it worse.” He gave a faint laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Pretty sure every time I think I’m getting it right, I step on a landmine.”
Heather reached across and gave Muffin’s fur an absentminded stroke, her voice softening. “You’re doing better than you know, Lyle. It’s not about having all the answers. It’s about showing up. And you’ve done more for her than most men in your shoes would even try.”
Lyle looked at her then, really looked at her, and she felt the full weight of his gratitude mixed with something deeper, something that made her pulse skip in a way she wasn’t ready to name.
“You always did have a way of pulling people back from their edges,” he said quietly.
Heather swallowed hard, her thumb toying with the sandwich wrapper as she deflected, even as her heart threatened to betray her. “And you’ve always had a way of making things complicated.”
Lyle laughed, the sound warm and rolling like the low rumble of thunder on a clear day. “Fair enough,” he said. “Guess that’s one thing I’m consistent about. So tell me. What made you want to train search and rescue animals?”
She gazed off in the distance, a familiar oppressiveness washing over her, the ever-present reminder that life didn’t always work out the way one might want. That there was ugliness in the world—in so many forms.
“My roommate in college,” she said. “Becky Meyers. I’m surprised Frank didn’t tell you the story. It was in all the papers.”
Lyle frowned. He’d been so wrapped up in his own life, he realized he hadn’t ever really asked Frank about Heather over the years. He vaguely remembered that she’d gone off to college, a remark Frank had made in passing, but that was the end of his curiosity. She simply hadn’t been on his radar back then. The only personal thing he’d gleaned about Heather since he’d been home was that she’d been living in one of the cabins for nearly a year, and other than owning a renowned dog training business, she pretty much kept to herself.
