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They had been riding for an hour, passing close to the edge of the pine forest, glimpsing small waterfalls and climbing a steep elevation that gave sweeping views of Rylan’s land. The flora and rock formations were constantly changing, and they had seen deer, elk and squirrels. It was wilder and more rugged than the farmland of her childhood home, but with a beauty all its own.
Now, as they dipped back down, they drew close to the border with the disused ranch. Bree was reminded of Rylan’s comment when she first arrived here.
“What did you mean when you said if you could just get your hands on this land?”
Rylan reined his horse in. “I made a good profit from the sale of my business. Enough to buy this place and not have to worry about money. I planned on maybe getting a few horses, doing some traveling, even writing a security manual. That all changed around the time I was eating an Indian meal and the owner found Papadum in a dumpster.”
He shifted in his saddle, turning to look at her. “Don’t get me wrong. As soon as I started taking in wounded and troubled animals, everything made sense. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this place. I contacted Dinah, asked her if she wanted a job and we took it from there.”
He rarely opened up, and Bree was content to remain quiet, watching his changing expressions. All she really knew about his formative years was that his dad had died when he was a child, and his mom had succumbed to cancer just before he joined the army. She realized now that he never made passing references to his childhood. Those stories and memories that had shaped her, and were so much a part of her own life, didn’t seem to feature in Rylan’s consciousness. Or maybe he deliberately suppressed them.
“But I want to do more.” He pointed to the abandoned ranch. “If I could buy that land as well, then I could really make a difference. I’d open a non-profit sanctuary for abused animals, employ my own live-in staff, including veterinarians and nutritionists, build state-of-the-art therapy facilities—” He broke off, lifting his cowboy hat and scratching his head. “Sorry, I can get carried away about all of this.”
“It sounds wonderful.” The enthusiasm in his face and voice when he talked about his vision was infectious. It touched something deep inside her. “You said you can’t do it. Why not?”
“When I approached the owner of the land, his starting price was at least three times what it’s worth.” Rylan’s shoulders sagged as he turned his horse around. “I have money, but not enough that I can start throwing any of it away. When I tried negotiating, his response was... Well, it wasn’t the sort of thing I’d repeat in your company.”
Although they rode on, Bree cast several glances over her shoulder at the land Rylan wanted. He had been so eloquent; she could almost picture the sanctuary he described. Audrey Colton’s daughter understood the importance of developing noble causes. She also believed in the power of dreams and good people who made them come true.
What would her mom’s advice be? She smiled. Audrey wouldn’t waste time talking; she would be too busy making things happen.
“When you first brought Papadum to the gallery, you said you’d taken in a new arrival who had unsettled the dynamics,” Bree said. “I haven’t noticed a problem dog.”
“Jekyll has been hospitalized for a few days,” Rylan explained. He checked his watch. “He should be returning anytime now.”
“Jekyll? As in...?”
He laughed. “Yeah. Jekyll and Hyde. But don’t be misled. We don’t see much of mild-mannered Hyde.”
They reached the kennels and dismounted. Inside, Dinah was sitting on the floor next to a dog bed that contained a tiny black and brown dog, whose ears appeared to take up two-thirds of his body. Jekyll was wearing a medical cone collar and looking sorry for himself.
“Is this the one you were talking about?” Bree asked. Surely, something this small couldn’t cause trouble among Rylan’s confident, tight-knit dog pack?
“Don’t be deceived,” Dinah said. “This little guy is bad to the bone.”
Jekyll gave Bree puppy-dog eyes and sighed heavily.
