Chapter Eighteen

Carol Miller’s house had no view of a pond and no possibility of running into a shirtless Zero Renshaw, but Delilah appreciated it for many reasons. Mostly because it meant she didn’t have to be homeless.

“If I haven’t told you today, thank you for taking me in,” Delilah said as Carol came into the cute kitchen painted a bright yellow.

Taking the cup of coffee Delilah handed her, Carol smiled. “This is the first time you’ve seen me today.”

“Then plan on being thanked at least four more times,” Delilah responded with a laugh that only felt a little forced.

She was getting better at faking it, that was for sure. But no one else needed to be burdened with her broken heart. She’d brought it on herself.

Eventually it might not hurt so badly, but today wasn’t looking like the day she’d turn any corners. Probably, because she’d woken up at three a.m. and laid there in the dark, missing Zero and the Flying Pig so much her chest ached with the effort to breathe. How had she gone and done a thing like fall in love with a place? A family?

The man, she could easily explain. It was his fault. If Zero hadn’t been such a dazzling specimen of masculinity with an underlying streak of honor and humility—plus the biceps, always the biceps—she’d have easily spent the few weeks training some dogs and then moving on.

Oh, who was she kidding? She’d still have loved the ranch even without Zero on the premises, but put the two together…and she’d been a goner from the start. The worst part was when she played what if. What if she’d told him she was a starving art student from the beginning? What if she’d gone to him and asked permission to train Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner to be emotional support dogs?

But she hadn’t, and she’d paid the ultimate price.

“I hate that you don’t have a place to go, honey,” Carol said, repeating what she’d told Delilah when she’d found her in the parking lot of Miller’s, scouring the area for her missing key fob in a blind panic.

“My own fault,” Delilah told her honestly.

Honesty was her new policy. She’d told Rob’s cousin everything in a story that had stretched well into dinner time, and by the time she’d gotten to the part where she’d realized the only solution was to leave the Flying Pig, Carol had already started cooking Hamburger Helper, insisting Delilah was family, and she could stay as long as she wished. The loan still hadn’t come through, and without Carol’s charity, she’d be sleeping on a park bench.

“Maybe the university will call today,” Carol said optimistically, but she’d said that every day for almost a week, and so far, Delilah was still a freeloader.

“If they don’t, I’ll keep working at the store.”

It was a fair trade in Carol’s eyes, but Delilah still felt guilty for leaning on the Millers’ hospitality in exchange for running the cash register while the older woman unloaded stock items in the back or managed the store’s accounting in her office.

They walked to the store together after breakfast. Carol lived on the row behind the store in a charming ranch-style one-story, its nearness a necessity, since she worked sixty hours a week at the store. The woman had insisted that Delilah was doing her a favor, not the other way around, but Delilah knew the truth. The people in this place were generous to a fault.

She loved this town almost as much as the ranch. Also, her due penance to not be able to even visit later on. It would be too hard.

The morning passed quickly as local farmers swung by to pick up feed. Delilah had started learning their names, calling out to them as they came in with a cheerful wave. They all knew she’d been helping the Renshaws at the Flying Pig, an oddity of small towns she didn’t hate. It was kind of nice not having to introduce herself. And literally, no one knew she was Doc Kersey’s daughter, nor would care if she’d told them.

The next customer plopped their purchase down on the counter by the register.

“Did you find everythin—”

The words died in her throat as she glanced up into Zero’s intense brown eyes. And immediately drowned in them. Willingly.

The pull between them roared to life, shocking her with its intensity. He wasn’t blocking it for some reason, which confused her as much as it rubbed at the rawness inside that had his name etched all over it.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I did find what I was looking for, thanks to Mrs. MacGregor, who mentioned she’d seen you here.”

“You were looking for me?” she squeaked and cleared her throat. “I’m just working here until my loan comes through. Then I’m planning to reimburse you every dime you paid me. So I’m glad you’re here. I need your address.”

He waved that aside with a flick of his wrist. “Why don’t I save you the trouble and tell you I’m not here for the money?”

“I didn’t imagine that you were,” she said with a nod to the three bags of dog treats on the counter, her mouth tipping up into a small smile that sliced at her heart. “How’s the crew? I guess you’re still training them if they’ve conned you into buying treats. So that’s good. You’re including Hunter, right? It’s really import—”

“Delilah.”

“I’m talking too much, I know. Sorry, it’s just that—”

“Stop. Please.”

Zero shut his eyes for a blink, and when he opened them, he dragged her to the edge of a very steep cliff she had no idea how to back away from. All she could see was him on the other side with no way to reach him.

And she wanted to. More than she’d fully articulated to herself. Because he was off-limits, so why torture herself?

“Delilah,” he began again, and she let him finish this time, since interrupting would cause whatever this was to last longer and she wasn’t dealing with it well in the first place. “Come back to the ranch.”

Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. She shook her head. “Come back? To do what?”

“To train my dogs,” he murmured and reached out to take her hand in his, swallowing her palm with his larger one.

Maybe she’d fallen and hit her head. Surely this was a lovely dream where Zero would pour his heart out, telling her his life was meaningless without her, and forgive her for everything.

“I’m not a dog trainer,” she reminded him.

“It turns out you are,” he told her with a gentle smile. “A pretty good one. The Captains have been herding the cattle for a couple of days, and they love it, oddly enough. I don’t even have to give them treats, but I started to anyway because they’re doing such a great job. That’s all you.”

Feeling faint, Delilah gripped the counter with her free hand before she wound up on the floor in a heap. “You’re making that up.”

Zero crossed his heart with an index finger. “I’m not. Tag vouched for you, too. Basically told me that he’d witnessed you doing the job I was paying you for. So I’m here to apologize. And give you your job back. I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can fully train Will Turner to be Sheridan’s emotional support dog.”

She stared at him until he nodded. He wasn’t kidding. Something light and bubbly filled her chest until she thought she might float away. “She knows about this? She asked for me?”

“To be clear, I’m asking for you,” he corrected. “But yes, Sheridan is the one who told me that she thinks having an emotional support dog is helping her. Since she started letting Will Turner sleep inside, I think it’s past time to get him fully trained. But not as a ranch dog. As Sheridan’s dog. Will you do it?”

Just as she was about to say yes and leap into his arms, reality reared its ugly head. He hadn’t said he wanted her to come back because he had feelings for her. This was all about the dogs and his family. Which was still lovely to hear. But a far cry from a man falling prostrate at her feet to declare his undying love for her.

Obviously nothing had changed. His parting words to her had included such soul crushing statements as “just having fun” and “easy to end.” She hadn’t meant as much to him as he’d meant to her.

And she didn’t think she could bear another crack in her fragile heart. Because this feeling couldn’t be anything else but what happened on the other side of falling for someone. She’d smacked the ground. It hurt.

Neither could she stand the thought of not being there to follow through on her ideas for how to teach Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann to be top-notch support dogs. To see Hunter and Sheridan as they healed.

Rock and a hard place. She’d done this to herself, though. Stuck, she shook her head.

“Let me think about it,” she hedged. “My loan may come through at any moment, and I don’t want to leave you high and dry in a few days.”

His expression blanked, and he nodded once. “Okay, I get that a dog-training gig isn’t as important as your degree. You know where to find me if you decide you want the job.”

That wasn’t the issue at all.

She watched him get into his truck through the plate-glass window, wishing he’d left well enough alone. There was no way she could go back to the Flying Pig for a temporary job meant to last only for a few heartbeats until she went back to her real life and art school—she’d already done that once, and it felt like taking off a layer of skin when she’d left. She couldn’t do it again.

When Carol shut the store down for the day, Delilah fished her phone from her pocket to check for messages from the university—force of habit. There wasn’t ever anything.

Except for today. Pulse tripping in her throat, she opened the email and scanned.

…Pleased to inform you…loan application has been approved…in accordance with your application…blah blah…

And then a dollar figure. More than enough for her to live on without worrying.

Finally. She could get back to the place where everything made sense. Pay for a new key fob for her car. Return all the money Zero had paid her, never mind that he’d insisted he didn’t want it. Dig into the dusty museum in Kilgore again, burying herself in the history of the Alamo as depicted by Fernando De Leon Da Rosa.

When she got back to the small room Carol had made up for her, Delilah sat on the ancient patchwork quilt and cried with great big gulping sobs.

Carol found her there sometime later, tears still streaming down her face.

“Oh, honey.” The older woman sank down next to her on the bed. “I can tell Zero not to come into the store any longer if that would help.”

The brief smile Carol flashed her only made the tears flow faster. “It’s not Zero. My loan came through. Everything is fine now. I can go back to school, unpause my life.”

Go back to art.

All at once, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought about a scene as a painting. She’d lost all interest in art whatsoever. And wasn’t even upset about it.

Carol pursed her lips, confusion edging into her expression. “That’s what you’ve been waiting on. I’m not sure I understand if these are tears of joy or what.”

“I don’t know, either,” she said honestly. “I just thought about leaving and couldn’t stop my stupid eyes from leaking all at once.”

“Because you don’t want to leave?” Carol asked.

“I don’t see how I have a choice,” she mumbled.

She had no permanent job, and if she didn’t go back to college, she’d be throwing away the last ten years of her life, which had all been geared toward earning her doctorate. Not to mention the fact she’d have to start paying back her loans.

“Everything in life is a choice,” Carol corrected and put a worn hand on Delilah’s arm. “And I’m here to tell you that it’s too short not to pick the path that makes you the happiest.”

Happiness. As criteria for making decisions. That sounded…wonderful. And yet so foreign. “You make it sound easy.”

“It is easy,” she said gently. “If I could wave my magic wand and give you whatever you wanted, what would it be?”

“Zero,” she whispered without a moment’s hesitation. “But that’s not a thing. He isn’t interested in me that way.”

“Did he say that?”

“Well…no.”

Nor had she asked. There hadn’t been much in the way of personal revelations during the conversation earlier, especially since she’d shut it down.

But that had been self-preservation. It was so much easier to leave than it was to stand up for herself, to do what she thought was best. To do what made her happy. She’d learned that a long time ago.

“Maybe you should stop putting words in his mouth and let him speak for himself,” Carol said with raised brows. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He’ll reject me again,” she mumbled. “And I’ll end up back in art school anyway, but with a lot bigger chunk taken out of my heart.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Carol rubbed her hands together as if she’d just seen an unfinished project she couldn’t wait to crack open. “So if you take a chance, the worst thing that will happen is that you wind up in the place you were already headed. What’s the best thing that could happen?”

Delilah shivered as she pictured what might happen if Zero kissed her again and no impending dinner or dogs interrupted. Better still, she could picture dogs interrupting and Zero laughing about it because they had all the time in the world for kissing and being together and building a life she wouldn’t ever have to leave.

That’s what she wanted.

She wanted it so badly she could taste it. So badly tears sprang up again, little salty messengers stinging her eyes and forcing her to think about the things in her heart she’d barely begun to acknowledge. Couldn’t acknowledge. Because that life wasn’t open to her.

“Best case scenario, I train the dogs and then have no reason to stay,” she muttered.

“Or you take a chance on Zero, and he gives you a reason to stay,” Carol suggested like that was totally a possibility. “If that’s what you want to do. This isn’t hard, honey, and you don’t know what the choices are if you don’t try. Then pick the path that makes you happy.”

Happiness as criteria for making decisions. Instead of self-preservation.

Except she wasn’t a dog trainer. Her father had told her over and over.

But he wasn’t here.

And Zero had said she’d done the job far more successfully than anyone, including she, had fully realized.

What if she took a chance and it didn’t end badly?