“Well, that’s good.” He relaxed a bit. “I don’t know what it is, but something about that guy set me off.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Heather said, straightening and brushing invisible dirt off her jeans. “If he reaches out again,
I’ll handle it.”
He studied her for a long moment, as though deciding whether to push further, before finally nodding. “I don’t doubt you will. Just don’t let slick talk and fancy business cards make you forget what you’ve already got here.”
Heather tilted her head. “And what’s that?”
“Roots,” Lyle said simply, his gaze holding hers.
“My roots are planted pretty deep here, Lyle. You’re the one who seems to have one foot out the door.”
He glanced away and didn’t comment. They both knew he was only here because of Charlotte. Because of a promise he’d made to Jeff and Sherry. She wondered if he would actually stay in Bear Valley once Charlotte settled into his guardianship. Or would he pack her up and head back to Montana? Since she didn’t know the answer to that question, every sensible instinct she possessed screamed that she should keep her distance.
Because her roots were here in Bear Valley.
“I’ve put in an offer on some property just outside of town. It’s perfect for my training facility.”
“I didn’t realize you’d planned to move. Aren’t you happy here on the ranch?”
“Of course. It’s beautiful here. But I told your grandfather it’s only temporary. I intend to buy my own land rather than leasing.”
“Well, no sense in getting in a hurry. We’ve got more than enough room. And I heard Joe talking about looping you into the dude ranch operations.”
She smiled. “Yeah, he spoke to me about putting on training demonstrations for the guests. I’ll still be around a while. The property I’m looking at is tied up in probate at the moment. Meanwhile,” she gestured to the dogs who’d begun to wander off in search of interesting smells nearby. “I’ve still got a whole batch of troublemakers to put through their paces, and the day’s heating up.”
Lyle chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Fair enough. I’ll let you get back to it, Firefly.”
The nickname lingered again, curling around her like the faintest of breezes even as Lyle tipped his hat and started to walk away. But before he could get far, Charlotte’s voice called out from the direction of the main house.
“Uncle Lyle! Miss Heather!” The little girl came barreling toward them from across the field, her blond curls bouncing as she clutched something against her chest. Heather squinted and realized with bemusement that it was Pudge, the kitten she’d seen Charlotte holding the other day.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Lyle called, his voice carrying a mix of affection and concern as he crouched slightly to meet Charlotte halfway. Although the main house wasn’t in direct sight of Heather’s cottage, it wasn’t far. Still… “What’s the rush? And why are you by yourself?”
Charlotte came to a halt in front of them, cheeks flushed and breathing hard. “I’m not alone. I have Pudge,” she declared, holding the kitten up for dramatic effect.
Lyle smiled and cupped the back of Charlotte’s head. “I’m happy that Pudge is with you, but next time maybe wait for me or have Uncle Joe come with you?”
“I know the way.”
“I can see that,” he said softly. “I just get a little worried.”
She gazed up at him, then glanced toward Heather. “Sorry. But Pudge really wants to learn.”
Heather blinked, then laughed. A genuine, full laugh that made the little girl’s face light up with pride. “Oh, does she now?”
“Uh-huh,” Charlotte said with a firm nod. “You said maybe Pudge can help people like your dogs do. Like helper dogs!”
Heather exchanged a glance with Lyle, who was clearly fighting back a grin of his own.
“Well,” Heather said thoughtfully, crouching so she was closer to Charlotte’s level. “Pudge might not be able to sniff out missing people like my dogs do, but you know what she’s really good at?”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Snuggling.” Heather reached out to scratch Pudge behind the ears. “Some helper animals are really good at just being there for people who feel sad or lonely. Like your grandpa Quentin, or even you. Maybe Pudge could be your special helper cat.”
Charlotte considered this seriously, her small arms tightening around the kitten. “Pudge likes to snuggle,” she admitted quietly.
