Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
“Thought that was you,” he says through pants, giving his sweat-soaked T-shirt a tug away from his stomach, drawing my attention to cut biceps. “Here to see Harry?”
“I was. I’m on my way back to the clinic now.”
He points in the opposite direction. “Isn’t it that way?”
“I have a stop to make,” I lie smoothly. He knows where my clinic is, which means he must have looked it up. I push aside the little spark that pricks me with that awareness. “Congratulations. You know, on winning.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything more. Is this as awkward for him as it is for me?
I swallow against this uncomfortable feeling that swells in my chest, torn between wanting to stay but then remembering our last exchange and thus desperate to leave. “So, what have you been up to? Besides polishing all your trophies.” It wasn’t enough that Tyler won the race and the purse that comes with it, and the halfway gold nuggets, but he also walked away with the Rookie of the Year, the sportsmanship award for helping Larry in the gorge, and the coveted humanitarian award.
He offers a lazy smile. “You gave me one of those, didn’t you?”
I shrug, though he likely already knows that the vote by the trail veterinarians for the Leonhard Seppala was unanimous this year.
“I heard an animal control officer did an inspection of Zed Snyder’s kennel and jammed him up with a bunch of fines. Not having up-to-date rabies vaccinations, that sort of thing.”
Good ol’ Howie. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It is.” He studies me. “You haven’t come by to see the kennel at all. Why is that?”
“I’ve been busy.”
He reaches up to wipe a smear of mud off the top of my side-view mirror. “Really? Couldn’t come by once in three months?”
“You have a gate.”
He smirks. “That’s never stopped you before.”
“I’ll be sure to bring my bolt cutters next time I’m out this way, then.”
His eyes narrow on the empty road. “Or you could just follow me back now.”
His offer is tempting, for all the wrong reasons.
Far too tempting.
But what am I even doing? What’s the point? I already know where this leads—grave disappointment. “I can’t. I have a patient waiting.” That I’m already going to be late for.
“Maybe some other time?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” It comes out flippant, not at all convincing.
And he must pick up on that because he backs away a few steps. “You’re angry with me.”
“I’m not,” I counter.
“You’re definitely less friendly than you were.” He folds his arms over his chest, drawing my focus to the thick pad of muscle the cotton clings to. “Is this because of Cripple? Because I was honest with you?”
He’s blunt, like Jonah is blunt. That’s always been an attractive quality to me.
In this case, it’s annoying. Tyler needs to be less attractive, not more.
“No. I appreciate honesty, actually. I don’t like wasting my time.” I already wasted five years pining over a man I’d never have.
“So, you’re saying friends are a waste of time. Wow. I wouldn’t have expected that from you, but good to know.” There’s discontent in his voice.
I sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
I wouldn’t know where to begin to explain myself. Furthermore, I have no interest in trying. A truck is approaching from the opposite direction. A good enough excuse for escape as any. “I have enough friends, is all. And I have appointments to get to. Take care, Tyler.” I throw my truck into gear and ease away. Leaving on a sour note is for the best.
I fight the urge to check my rearview mirror until I lose.
Tyler is still standing in the middle of the road, watching me go.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“God, Earl sure loved those dogs.” Dad’s aged blue eyes are on the hang glider as he sails past us. “I was afraid Harry would start mucking things up around there. He’s just too much like Bonnie, if you ask me, and she doesn’t have Earl’s way with people.”
Harry’s father was much like mine—boisterous and easygoing, always one to share a joke or story. His mother, on the other hand, has always been the serious sort, fretting over things she can’t change and searching for problems in every situation so she can claim she saw them coming.
I step over a fallen rock on the worn trail that rounds Summit Lake, watching Bentley and Yukon as they explore, their snouts to the ground. We left Aurora at home. She gets agitated in public parks. “Harry’s not a bad guy. He’s just had everything handed to him, and now he’s having to work to keep it. And it doesn’t help that Bonnie has convinced him that he can do no wrong.” She has always been one of those parents who can find fault in those around her child but never her child. Harry struggled in school? It’s because the teachers were inadequate in their jobs. Harry didn’t make a sports team? The coach couldn’t see real talent if it slapped them in the face. A girl doesn’t want to date Harry? Clearly, she’s a dimwit.