Less than a quarter mile from Dr. Clarke’s veterinary clinic, Danny and Tyrell walked into the service bays at Tyrell’s job, Danny carrying Ruby like a football.
“Hey, Spike,” Danny said.
Spike grinned. “Is that fur ball real or stuffed?”
“Meet Ruby,” Danny said. “She’s mean, so keep your greasy fingers to yourself.”
“That ain’t a dog,” Spike said, taking Ruby from him. “It’s a flea off of one.”
Everett called out, “Is that a border collie?”
Danny nodded. “Purebred.”
The rest of the guys came over and took turns holding the pup, whispering to her, cooing, and Ruby licked their blackened fingers and smiling faces.
“Here,” Danny said, taking Ruby back. “I want to show Ann.”
Ann flew around the counter. “A puppy! What’s its name?”
“Ruby.”
“I love that name! You’re not going to make her stay in Tyrell’s truck, are you?”
“Nope. I’ll show you.”
Danny took the pup out to the service bay and turned a big truck tire on its side. He tossed in some paper and clean rags and set Ruby on top of them. “The Goodyear Hotel.”
“She needs water,” Ann said.
“I’ll get it,” Danny said. “Hey, listen. My dad and I are entered in the Madras rodeo this Saturday. How’d you like to come see us rope?”
“I’d like that, Danny, really. But I’m not so much into—”
“Come on, it’s gonna be great. You’ll like it.”
She peeked around him toward the service bays. “Is Tyrell going?”
“Yep.”
“Does he compete, too?”
“Nope. But he helps with the horses and checks out the girls.”
“Figures.”
“We’ll pick you up at seven. And wear a hat. It’ll be hot.”
Ann smiled and hooked her arm under his. “Can’t wait, cowboy.”