Page 64 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

I hadn’t ever thought I was going to be part of a family again, not after Dad basically tossed me out on my own. And I definitely hadn’t anticipated being accepted so quickly or so easily.

We drove over to Rocky Ridge. Really, we could have walked, but Cam insisted on driving. He was acting like I was delicate or something, which was starting to drive me bonkers.

I was half-expecting him to follow me to the clinic one day or something, so he could keep an eye on me. I couldn’t wait until he tried to force me to stop working.

I hadn’t entirely thought about leave yet. I was trying not to think too far ahead; birth was months away, and I needed to get my head around the idea that I was pregnant before I could contemplate the reality that the baby that was currently growing in me had to …

Come out of me at some point.

The barbecue was in full swing when we rolled up. “Cameron,” said a gruff older man with a battered Stetson on his head. He looked like some kind of stereotype out of a spaghetti Western. He shook Cam’s hand, then nodded to me, a smile twitching under his thick, salt-and-pepper moustache. Was that a twinkle in his eye?

“Burt,” Cam returned, clapping him on the shoulder. “Have you met Wyatt?”

“Not had the pleasure, no,” Burt said, hooking his fingers in his jeans pockets. “Vernon won’t shut up about you, though. Sings your praises dawn ’til dusk.”

“Oh,” I said, flushing, and Burt offered me another smile.

“Anyone who’s okay in Vern’s books is okay in mine,” he said,then tilted his beer at me, like some kind of toast.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I stammered. “I—Cam and Cal couldn’t get on without all you do around here.”

Burt huffed a laugh. “I suspect not,” he said. “C’mon, boys, let’s join the party. Drink?”

“Sure,” Cam said easily.

Burt turned his keen eyes on me. I felt heat in my cheeks. “Oh, uh. No … thanks.”

Burt’s smile seemed to grow under his moustache. “Ah,” he said. “I see.”

My cheeks got hotter. Did he? Did he reallysee?

He pulled a beer out of a cooler near the steps to the deck, then passed it to Cam. We ascended the stairs and found the Carlyle clan—plus Vern and Roy—scattered across the deck and the yard.

Cal was manning both the barbecue and the smoker. He tilted his hat. “Cam, Wyatt. Good to see ya.”

The scent of smoked meat clogged my nose, and I could practically feel myself drooling. We’d eaten lunch just a couple of hours ago, but my body seemed to be trying to make up for the perpetual queasiness and lack of appetite I’d suffered through for the last three or so months. Now, I was almost constantly hungry.

Cal blinked at me. “You feeding this boy?” he asked Cam, grabbing his tongs. “Gosh, Wyatt, you look starved. What can I get ya?”

I shook my head. “What’s good?”

Cal snorted. “Everything.”

Cam rested an arm on his brother’s shoulder, leaning against him. “Cal’s barbecuing is legendary around here.”

“It’s why we end up feeding half the county.” That was Aunt Caroline.

“You’re only complaining because it means making morepotato salad.”

Caroline sighed, then glanced at me, her sharp amber eyes dancing in the afternoon light. A slight smile curved her pink lips. “You look well,” she said, almost like it was some kind of secret.

“Uh. Thanks?”

She smiled knowingly, then turned around. “Hey! Cody! Get out of that beer, you know you’re not allowed to have any alcohol!”

“Aw, comeon!” Cody barked, but he slunk away from the cooler, jamming his hands in his pockets.

“He could have one,” Cam said.