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“You cold, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay.” I nestled against him, holding him tight.
He kissed the top of my head, and I sighed, content for the first time in so long. I propped my chin on his chest.
“You aren’t really thinking of not going to vet school?”
He looked away from me. “I’ll decide later. It’s not like I need to go anyway. I’m coming back to the ranch regardless.”
I sat up. “Mitch, you can’t give up on your plans. I know this is where you want to come back to, but part of that is obligation to your family.” He opened his mouth to protest, and I put a finger over his lips. “Don’t say it’s not.”
“Fine, but I don’t care to go anywhere else. Crazy as it sounds, Burdett is where I want to be. Since I never had any intention of opening a practice or taking over Doc Isaac’s, there isn’t any sense in me going to school.”
“Stop it. I won’t listen to you minimize your dreams.”
“What about yours? And what are you gonna do in College Station while I’m in school?”
“Get a masters in something?” I offered him a smile he didn’t return. “Somebody’s going to have to know how to run this ranch one day.” I realized how presumptuous that sounded. But before I went to Paris, we’d talked about these things. And after what just happened, we were back together, weren’t we?
“You’d be perfect for it.” He buried his face against my neck.
I pulled away. “Promise me you won’t give up on school. You’re meant to be a vet. These animals need you.”
“What if it happens again? I—I can’t handle losing them.”
His words twisted my heart. His compassion for animals was exactly why he was meant to care for them.
“I’ve never seen anyone like you with animals. They respond to you because they feel how much you care.”
Disbelieving eyes met mine. “I—”
The sound of boots thudding against the floor cut him off. A gasp escaped me, and he held a finger up to my lips even.
“Mitch? You in here, son?” His granddaddy’s voice was just outside the stall.
I froze, panicked we’d be caught. We’d done this before, but never when everyone else was doing their chores.
Mitch immediately rolled us back over so he was covering me like a shield. He didn’t respond to his grandfather. The footsteps drew closer. Tack landed on the stall door.
When boots came into view, I held my breath, praying Mr. Jacobs wouldn’t look over the door.
“Did you find him?” Mitch’s father asked from somewhere farther away.
I clutched his sides, and he stroked my back, though I could see his concern in the set of his jaw.
“Naw. I don’t think he’s in here. Let’s go check the pasture.”
I deflated against him as the footsteps retreated. As soon as the barn was still, we scrambled to put our clothes on.
“I better go see what they want,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, kissing my forehead.
I nodded. “I should get back home.”
“Drive careful.”
“I will.”
I bolted back to the car and grinned as I sped down the dirt drive. Mitch and I were back together.
