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It was true, she had been spending more nights at Hunter’s cabin than at home lately. But ever since they’d reconnected—as in really reconnected—in the truck that afternoon, well, they couldn’t get enough of each other.
It was work all morning in the clinic, then out to farm calls in the afternoon. Hunter was finally taking a hands-on role in her internship and she was learning more than she would have ever thought possible back in her stuffy Cornell classes. There was nothing like up close and personal experience with the animals.
Hunter was patient as he helped her learn the difference between how a heifer’s ovaries felt when she was ovulating and ready to breed and when she wasn’t at peak cycle. They’d been called out for more calvings than she could count since it was the season for it—they didn’t always end happily, but she learned more and grew more confident with each one. While there was nothing to be done about stillborn calves sometimes, they hadn’t lost a mother cow yet.
Isobel had always known that working with horses made her feel good, but she hadn’t expected the bone-deep satisfaction of saving an animal’s life that people depended on for their livelihood. They were both saving an animal and helping people. It brought an insane rush of adrenaline each time. If she were doomed to be an addict, she might as well channel her impulses toward healthy obsessions.
“You just let us know if that boy isn’t treating you right,” Mel’s husband Xavier said gruffly. Several of the other guys at the table chimed in, agreeing with him.
Isobel smiled at Xavier. “Hunter’s great.”
Xavier just grunted. “He better be.”
It had taken Isobel a little while to get used to Xavier’s scarred face. He was such a big man, and then with his face—it was hard not to be intimidated. But then she saw how clearly his wife and sons adored him and after a few weeks she barely noticed the scarring anymore. His older son especially seemed to idolize him. Even though Reece was officially manny to both boys, Dean spent half his day out shadowing Xavier, imitating whatever his father was doing.
Currently, Dean was sitting across the table from Isobel, crammed in between his brother and his father. “Daddy, Daddy.” He grabbed at his father’s giant forearm while Xavier lifted a biscuit to his mouth. “Can we go now? Look, I finished my spinach.” He held up his empty plate for his father’s inspection. “You said I could ride with you if I ate it. Can we go?”
“Me come too!” said Brent, turning and standing up on his chair, holding the back of it for balance.
“Whoa, buddy,” Reece said, snatching Brent up and setting him back on his bottom. The little boy jumped right back up again like a jack in the box. “I wanna go with Daddy and Dean!”
Dean rolled his eyes.
It was such an exasperated expression to see on a six-year-old that Isobel had to choke back a laugh.
“Tell you what, bud,” Xavier stood up, wiping his mouth with his napkin as he went, “later today when I finish up my work, you and me will go around and pet the horses together. Just you and me. Deal?”
“I wanna go now!” the little boy shrieked.
“Whoa, Brent,” Reece said, “that’s not how we talk to—”
But Xavier already had Brent up in his arms, his face only inches away from the little boy. “Do you want to have special time with Daddy later or not?”
The little boy’s lip trembled, his face uncertain. “I wanna go now.”
Xavier arched a warning eyebrow. “Do I need to count?”
The little boy’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, daddy. I be good.”
Xavier smiled and his whole face warmed. “You’re always my good boy. Daddy loves you.” He rubbed noses with his son, then tossed him up in the air and caught him again. Brent shrieked and giggled.
“Xav, don’t,” Mel said when he went to toss him again. “All his breakfast will come back up.”
“One more time?” Both father and son looked pleadingly at Mel. She waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “Don’t come crying to me if you end up with pancake all over you.”
Up Brent went into the air again. Then Xavier kissed him on the top of his head and patted his behind before sitting him back down in his chair.
Isobel took a last bite of her eggs and bagel before moving her chair back when Liam came and grabbed the seat beside her that Jeremiah had just vacated.
“So, birthday girl, what kind of cake do you want Nicholas to bake for dinner tonight?”
“Oh that’s right,” Mel said, raising a hand to her head, “I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Isobel.”
Isobel waved a hand. “Oh. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Reece said, wiping Brent’s face with a napkin. “Your birthday should be the most special day of the year.”
“Which is why you’ve gotta tell us your favorite cake and liquor so we can have both on hand for dinner.”
