“In God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” Psalm 56:11

1

 

“You gotta move if you want to eat, Jumbo.”

Rori Harmon nudged the curious four-hundred-pound llama out of the way with her shoulder and tossed the bale of hay into the pasture at Forever Family Animal Sanctuary.

Jumbo munched on the hay, staring at her with huge, chestnut colored eyes and lashes that most females would envy. At least his long ears pointed up, and he wasn’t sounding his shrill alarm. Always a good sign with this cantankerous male.

“Sorry. That’s it for chow, big guy.” She patted his rump and then made her way to the water bucket, sliding her gloves off and tucking them into the back pocket of her jeans. She lifted the hose and turned the spigot, waiting until fresh, cold water flowed over her hand before directing it into the trough. She twisted it off and straightened.

Five male llamas huddled together, their satisfied chomping noises breaking the early morning stillness, a cool breeze ruffling their fiber.

“Time to visit the little ladies. See you later, guys.” She cranked the four-wheeler, drove into the female territory, and unloaded another bale.

As fifteen creatures lumbered her way, she scanned the crowd, searching for one particular animal. Where was Snickers?

A groan sounded from near the fence line. Ah, there she was, the shyest of her herd and the sanctuary’s newest ward.

Snickers sniffed the ground, paced a few yards, dipped her long neck in a jerky motion, and moaned again. She plunked on the grass and rolled, but that didn’t last long. With awkward movements, she got back on her feet and rubbed her head against the combination wood and wire fence.

Poor thing. The expectant mama couldn’t get comfortable.

A bud of anticipation bloomed in Rori’s tummy. This delivery would be her first experience with a cria birth. “What’s the matter, girl?” Rori spoke softly as she stepped closer to the beautiful silky animal.

Since Snickers had arrived just a few days ago, already several months pregnant, Rori had scoured the Internet for articles on llama births. With her degree in veterinary technology, she could probably handle a normal delivery on her own, but what if Snickers experienced complications?

A chilly North Carolina breeze picked up, swirling dust and bits of straw through the air. Branches of the majestic maple trees bordering the property and haphazardly dotted throughout the lawn swayed in tune with the gentle wind, autumn’s multi-colored leaves drifting to join the dance.

Rori tugged her sweater tight, humming quietly as she inched closer. Should she try to entice Snickers to the shelter, out of the wind?

“Come on, sweet mama, you can do this.”

The six-foot-tall animal lumbered back and forth, cutting the same path across the pasture. A couple minutes passed with more moans from Snickers, growing louder and more urgent, but no sign of the baby.

If Rori were suffering labor pains, she would want a qualified professional on hand to deliver the baby. Well, that wasn’t happening anytime in the near future, so why would she allow her brain to wander down that lonely road?

She wouldn’t put Snickers and the cria at risk by not having a veterinarian around for the delivery. Rori slid her cellphone out of her pocket and connected with the vet’s office.

“Dr. Randolph’s office.”

“Hi, Judy. It’s Rori Harmon. Is Corbin in this morning?” Please say yes.

“Hey, Rori. Nah, Corbin hasn’t been in yet this morning. He left word that he had an emergency over at the Whitman farm. I’m not sure when to expect him. Do you need him at your place?”

Rori grimaced. She didn’t need him. She needed a vet.

She’d learned at the delicate age of ten not to depend on a man. When her father—A heavy sigh erupted from her chest. She couldn’t blame Judy for her poor choice of words.

Jumbo lumbered over to the fence and rubbed his nose against Rori’s shoulder, almost knocking the phone out of her hand. She fumbled to keep her grip while he raised his neck and bared his bottom teeth, flashing a giant llama grin. Aww. He was trying to cheer her up, the big lug.

She smiled, grateful for the sweetie, even if he was a bit of a troublemaker.

But he needed a home, a family, and that’s why he was here. So he wouldn’t be destroyed.

She was tucked way out in the country, far enough away from the big city of Charlotte and secluded from the public’s prying eyes and insatiable appetites for gossip, for the same reason. So she wouldn’t be destroyed.

Animals didn’t let one down like people did. But it sure would be nice if a man, besides her brother or stepfather, would show up when she needed him. Didn’t look like that would happen today.

Snickers moaned again.

Rori glanced at the back end of the pregnant female.

Still no sign of the baby yet.

“It looks like Snickers plans to have her cria today, but the little one’s not cooperating. I could use a vet, Judy. Whether that’s Corbin or his on-call doc, I don’t care. Please, just get somebody out here to the sanctuary.”

Rori disconnected and headed into the barn. It wouldn’t hurt to gather some supplies, just in case.

 

****

 

“Tell me again why I drove thirty minutes to the middle of nowhere on my first day off in months?” Gravel crunched under Graham Decker’s athletic shoes as he tossed his sunglasses on the dash and unfolded himself from the tiny sports car, a cellphone cradled against his ear.

He slid the seat forward and Goliath, his Golden Retriever, hopped from the back seat and scampered off to sniff the grassy yard.

“Because you’re my brother and I asked you to.” Exhaustion laced his sister’s voice, and he almost regretted teasing her. Almost, but he knew she wouldn’t be easy to live with for the next three months. Six months pregnant and already experiencing early labor signs, Angela’s doctor had just ordered extended bed rest. She didn’t enjoy sitting still, so how would she handle bed rest for that long?

Graham gave his head a little wag, feeling a twinge of sympathy for his brother-in-law, but easygoing Mike would take Angela’s hormonal mood swings in stride. He couldn’t have handpicked a better husband for his sister. She’d done well.

Much better than he had with his choice for a lifelong partner. Look how that had turned out. He blew out a heavy sigh before responding. “Well, there is that—” He glanced around for some indication to make sure he was on the right farm. A faded sign— Forever Family Animal Sanctuary—hung on the front of a huge red barn.

“What’s the name of the place again?”

Computer keys clacked in the background. “Forever Family Animal Sanctuary.”

“OK. Just checking. This is it.”

His gaze lingered on the ancient dwelling next to the barn. An appealing name for the sanctuary, maybe, but the rough abode needed a lot of work on the outside to call it a home. Did the owner really live in a converted stable?

With arms crossed, he shook his head and rested his rump against the car, cradling the phone against a shoulder, keeping an eye on the wandering dog. Goliath sniffed along a fence line on the far side of the barn.

The animal sanctuary might be located in the middle of nowhere, but at least the place had a decent-sized barn and acres of lush green pasture. What were those funny looking animals in the enclosure? Graham leaned away from the car, angling his head, squinting against the glare of the bright sunlight. Were those llamas? Cool! In all his travels, he’d never seen a llama up close. He’d make sure to snap a picture of them before he left.

“And this is your baby.” His sister’s voice snagged his attention again.

“Not quite, Angela,” he sputtered. He knew what she meant, though. Angela handled the day-to-day operations of the Graham Decker Foundation, a charitable organization he founded to raise funds dedicated to the protection of animals.

“You know I didn’t mean that literally, Graham.” Amusement laced her North Carolina drawl. “But I warned you when I first found out I was pregnant that you might have to handle the foundation’s urgent needs for a time.”

“Yes, you did, but—”

“Of course, when I said that I was thinking about after the baby was born. Neither one of us could have anticipated my time off to stretch over three months before delivery, but you know I’ll do what I can from home.” Her voice quivered.

“It’s OK, Angela. We’ll make this work. You don’t need to worry about a thing right now. You concentrate on staying healthy for the baby’s sake. Let me take care of this,” he soothed.

She did such a great job with the organization, and most of the time, he left things up to her. While she always consulted him about the bigger issues, he completely trusted her decisions.

It was past time he showed her how much he appreciated her. That would start today, with taking care of this visit so she could cross this last item off her list.

“Thanks, Graham.” She sniffled. There was a slight pause, and then she continued, her voice growing stronger. “I emailed all the grant applicants to let them know about the delay, but from the sounds of this grant request, it appeared as if the need for funds was rather immediate.”

“Immediate isn’t in my vocabulary.” He glanced sideways at the petite makeshift house again and scowled. The entire footprint would fit into his living room.

Maybe he could make an exception in this case.

“It is when you’re strapped in that racecar running a hundred and eighty miles per hour and you see that black and white checkered flag waving in front of you.”

He chuckled. “You have me there, Angela. I can’t deny that, but we’re not talking racing. Fans place their trust in us when they donate their hard-earned money to our organization. I like to mull over these decisions, pray—”

“Well, it’s about time you showed up, Doc. Let’s get this party started. I don’t think it will be long now.” A clear voice tinkled in his ear, but it wasn’t Angela’s and it didn’t come from the phone.

His head jerked sideways, and he fumbled with the phone, almost dropping it. He hoisted himself away from the car in one swift movement.

No. That sweet, somewhat angelic voice belonged to a leggy jean-clad female who emerged from the barn, long brown hair floating off her back with the gentle breeze, arms loaded down with more stuff than a girl should rightfully be toting around.

Not when a man was around to handle the load.

She angled her cowgirl hat towards the fenced enclosure next to the barn, where Goliath dug his snout into the ground, sniffing. “Snickers is right over here.”

“Look, Angela, I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m done here.” He disconnected and caught up with the cowgirl. He bobbed his head once, acknowledging her, and held out his arms, palms up. “Let me carry that for you.”

She squinted at him, an odd expression taking over her smooth, ivory face, but she finally surrendered the load. Why was she carting around a ton of towels and blankets? And why the strange look?

“Not too often I see a car like that out here.” Cowgirl flicked her head to his sports car.

“No?” She probably didn’t see too many cars out here, period, but he didn’t say that.

She opened the gate and shook her head, flashing some cute dimples. She hitched her hat up slightly, and a glimpse of amber highlights sparkling from luscious green eyes caught him off guard.

Whoa! If he wasn’t careful, he could get lost in those eyes, but he aimed to be careful. His ex-wife, Lisa, had taught him all about love and money. Mainly, that a woman loved money, not necessarily the man that came with it.

“No. Most everybody around here drives trucks of some sort, or rides horses, not little beauties like that.”

Cowgirl crouched, stroking Goliath’s soft fur around his head, and then her short fingernails scratched up and down his neck. “What a sweetie!” she crooned.

Goliath raised his snout high in the air as a soft guttural sound came from his throat.

An all too-familiar longing lurched to life in Graham’s gut. For someone to call him by a special name, with love shining from her eyes, instead of dollar signs. For feminine fingers to knead the tight muscles from his achy shoulders after a long day. He gritted his teeth and felt a huge lump crawl down his throat. He’d been there. Done that. And it hadn’t turned out so well.

She stood and looked to him, her large green eyes round as she waited for him to follow.

He hesitated, staring into her eyes, searching, more than a little excited to see those amber flints distinctly void of dollar signs.

She cleared her throat and dipped her head, waiting for him to pass through the gate.

Which he did. Eagerly. But at least he wasn’t waving his fluffy tail high in the air or grinning like Goliath.

A soft breeze drifted by, bringing with it the typical animal smells like dung and hay, but he also caught a whiff of her scent. Something spicy and floral. He liked it. “I usually drive something else, too, but I left it at work.” A smile slid across his lips. Several something else’s, actually.

“Oh?” She looked surprised and a little suspicious, but shook it off. She hummed, quiet and pleasant-sounding. She gave no indication that she recognized him. Did she not know who he was? Exhilaration and anticipation took turns causing a ruckus in his gut and finally settled there. Cowgirl stopped walking.

He sidestepped quickly to keep from running into her with his load. He backed up, adjusting the supplies in his arms.

Goliath lifted his snout in the air and wandered away again.

Cowgirl didn’t issue any warnings, so he assumed llamas played nicely with dogs.

“Do you mind if I actually work on the delivery?” She asked, pulling a cloth from the middle of the stack.

“Uh—” Delivery? That earlier feeling of anticipation soured. He frowned. What was she talking about?

She flicked a towel on the ground and slid some gloves over her slender fingers. “Yeah. Snickers is fairly new here, and I don’t want to frighten her any more than she already is. Besides, this is my first llama delivery.”

A llama delivery?

He turned his head to the side and coughed. His, too. For the first time in years, fear pulsed through his veins. Yeah, he might have wanted to get close to the llamas, but crouching behind a llama’s backside, waiting to grab a baby llama wasn’t really what he had in mind. His head wobbled back and forth. What was he doing here?

She set a digital thermometer, some type of lubricant on the towel— and was that dental floss?—and speared him with a hopeful glance over her shoulder, her wide green eyes sparkling with excitement. “If it reassures you, I have a four-year degree in Vet Technology. Not that it qualifies me to deliver a cria, but, hey, you’re here to step in if anything goes wrong.”

A cria? Was that what they called baby llamas? He was in way over his head here. He balanced the load of towels with one arm and massaged his forehead with the fingertips of his other hand. So he could offer moral support or lend a hand if she needed one, but that was the extent of his ability. What should he do?

Lord, I could definitely use a little help here. I deliver wins, interviews, and the occasional checks to non-profits, but llamas? They are way out of my realm of expertise.

The tall-as-he-was animal moaned. Rather loudly.

Graham fumbled, nearly dropping the remaining pile of cloths. It didn’t look like he had a choice here.

“Aw, sweet girl, it’ll be all right. This kind man and I are here to help you. Soon your little cria will be here, and you’ll forget all about the pain.” Her tone was sweet and soft, almost melodic.

The animal’s head angled towards the voice. Ultra long lashes flickered and the llama’s posture eased, as if she actually understood what Cowgirl said.

Graham had never seen anything like this before. He’d award her the grant money just for the experience of witnessing a llama whisperer.

Cowgirl flashed a grin over a shoulder. “That’s what they say about human births, anyway. Guess it probably stands true for animals, huh?”

“What would you like me to do?” What was he saying? He should be whistling for Goliath, high tailing it back to his car and speeding down the road, heading back towards Charlotte. This was uncharted territory, out of Graham’s comfort zone. Way out.

Cowgirl smiled back at him from her vantage point behind Snickers. “You can stack the rest of that stuff on the towel and keep the curious onlookers away.”

He dumped the stack where she instructed and straightened. A tall, fuzzy creature with the longest lashes and biggest eyes he’d ever seen closed in on him, invading his personal space. Whoa! He staggered back. Then he realized that a fence separated them. “Excuse me, buddy, but the lady says you’ll need to move it on down the road.” Exactly what he should be doing, but instead, his legs stayed rooted to the dewy grass, refusing to turn around and take him back to the car. Graham gave the big fella, assuming it was a male, a gentle nudge with his arm.

The giant didn’t budge.

“Hey, buddy. Your lady friend will be all right. We’ll call you when the little one arrives.”

The animal’s ears pressed flat, and he let out a piercing sound.

Graham squinted at the shrillness, getting the distinct impression the llama wasn’t happy with him.

“That’s Jumbo,” Cowgirl said, with a quick glance over her shoulder. Her attention returned to videoing the backside of the pregnant llama with her cellphone.

“Nice to meet you, Jumbo.”

Jumbo didn’t look like he agreed.

“Be careful. He—”

Something awful spewed from the llama’s mouth and slammed Graham in the face.

“—spits.”

The llama hissed. Cud blasted him again, this time on the front of his cotton shirt.

“Ohh.” He groaned, scrunching his cheeks, and grabbed a fresh towel. He wiped his face, picked up another towel and swabbed some more.

“What does it take to get rid of this horrible odor?” He coughed, fighting the tremendous urge to retch.

Laughter tinkled nearby.

He mopped another clean towel across his face and glanced over at Cowgirl, whose cellphone was aimed at him now.

“Please tell me you’re not taping this,” he growled. He could hear the jesting from his pit crew already. Being spit on by a llama. He shook his head. They would never let him live it down.

“I couldn’t resist, but don’t worry. I won’t post it on the Sanctuary’s website. This one’s strictly for my enjoyment.”

For her enjoyment? Seriously? Watching him be humiliated by a llama? The poor girl needed to get out more.

He scrubbed his shirt, but the rubbing motion only smeared the mess and did nothing for the hideous odor.

“Who knew there was such a thing as llama spittle?” he muttered, shaking his head. He tossed the dirty rag on the grass.

Cowgirl was staring at him, the gentle breeze fluttering long strands of dark hair across her creamy cheeks, hiding those beautiful eyes. She flicked the locks away, and then stuffed a free hand into the pocket of her jeans, the tip of her boot poking at the dirt, her focus now on studying the ground. “Thank you for being here when I needed somebody.”

From the soft tone of her voice, Graham knew that meant a great deal to her.

He puffed out his chest. He might not know anything about a llama’s labor and delivery process, but he could be the man Cowgirl needed. Yeah. He could do this even if Jumbo decided to spit again. Graham glared at the tall, fuzzy creature. He’d just make sure he moved as fast, no, faster, than his racecar.

 

****

 

The cria finally tumbled onto the grass.

Rori ceased filming with her cellphone and got to work, getting the cria’s temperature and taking care of the umbilical cord. Satisfied that all was well, she rubbed the taut muscles on the back of her neck, released a relieved sigh and felt the pressure slide off her shoulders.

It looked like Mama and baby would be fine.

The vet? Now he was a different story.

“Cool, huh?” She finally allowed herself a long glance at the man who’d been her shadow for the last hour.

He’d raked his fingers through his hair so much during the delivery that thick dark strands spiked up. Right now, he rubbed the heavy stubble that covered his jaws.

She’d never met a vet quite like him.

He hadn’t even volunteered to retrieve his medical bag during the delivery. He’d stood close by, patiently watching the status of Mama and baby, occasionally murmuring soft words of encouragement in that deep rumble of a voice, igniting delicious shivers that rippled from the roots of her hair to her boot-covered toes.

“Yeah.” His head wagged back and forth. Awe glazed his face.

Hers probably sported the same look, minus the green around the edges that showed on his.

He must’ve had a long night on call to look so rough. Even rough, the man was mighty good to look at.

Not that she was looking. “Do you ever get tired of it?” she asked, tipping her hat to get a better look at him. OK. Maybe she was looking. Just a little. But she couldn’t resist the alluring force that pulled her in closer, hoping to catch a better glance of the man who’d helped her.

“Of what? Being blasted with llama crud?” Humor sparkled from the depths of his cocoa-colored eyes as he stroked the beautiful golden dog’s head.

“No.” She chuckled. “I imagine that would get old fast. I meant helping with deliveries. Watching animals give birth.”

“Who could ever tire of witnessing the miracle of birth? It’s like life blossoms right in front of you.” He cleared his throat and reached for another clean towel. He was a mess.

She glanced down and cringed. She wasn’t in any better shape, but at least she wasn’t covered with the remains of Jumbo’s digestive track. The least she could do was offer him a chance to clean up, right?

“I could use a cup of coffee and a break. Would you like to join me? I might even let you use my bathroom to wash up.”

He smiled.

Her heart did flip-flops. Stop it right now, Rori Harmon. Just because he rescued you today, doesn’t mean he’ll be around the next time. And it certainly doesn’t give you license to get all soft inside.

Her response to his smile didn’t bode well for her weak heart muscle, but he had llama goo all over his shirt, and he stank something fierce. It wouldn’t be right not to offer the poor guy a place to clean up, and she might as well make him a cup of coffee for his trouble.

“That sounds great.” He scooped the soiled items together and hoisted the load over a shoulder, wrinkling his nose. “Lead the way.”

Rori escorted him out of the pasture, doing her best to ignore the butterflies dancing around in her tummy.

The vet’s rubber soles shuffled against the grass, his precious dog prancing beside him, the plumy tail slicing through the autumn air.

She stopped at the entrance to the barn and gestured. “Just drop those in a pile there. I’ll take care of everything later.”

“Where do they need to end up? I don’t mind helping.”

“You’ve already been a tremendous help.”

He’d actually stayed for the entire delivery, and his sweet words of encouragement during Snickers’s labor shattered her long held values about men.

Was he a man she could count on? Rori didn’t know, but he’d shown up just when she needed him today and seemed to accept the crazy antics of her animals with good humor.

He dumped the load where she indicated, and she stole another glance at him. Kindness glimmered from his rugged, just-woke-up-and-no-time-to-shave face, and his powerful shoulders suggested he was a man who could carry any burden, no matter how heavy.

“Welcome to Forever Family Animal Sanctuary. Forgive me for not offering my name earlier. I’m Rori Harmon.”

He flashed a soft look, one that spoke volumes. Past hurt? Loneliness?

Rori’s heart stuttered.

“I’m Graham.” His hand dropped to pat the dog’s head. “And this is Goliath.”

She bent to scratch the dog’s ears. He moaned and rolled over onto his back, so she gave him a belly rub, chuckling when his leg twitched spasmodically in the air. “Goliath. What a big, tough name for such a softie like you.” She stood back up and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Graham.”

His hand was rough, strong. Used to a hard day’s work.

She liked that. She tugged her hand away, rubbing the spot where his touch still tingled.

His gaze dipped to her hands.

Forcing herself to stop fiddling, she sauntered over to the fence and looped her forearms over the gate.

Graham and his canine companion followed.

The entire female population of llamas had ambled over to welcome the caramel-colored baby and congratulate the new mama.

“You delivered the little one, so you should have the honor of naming her,” she said. Rori’s cellphone vibrated. She forwarded the sanctuary line to her cell while she worked, so she needed to take the call. “Excuse me, please.”

Turning away from Graham, she connected the call. “Forever Family Animal Sanctuary. This is Rori.”

“Hi Rori. This is Nan Greenway with Athletes in the News. How are you today?”

The breath whooshed from Rori’s chest. It had been twenty years now. Would the reporters never leave her and her family alone? She stalked a few yards away from Graham, forcing even breaths, in and out. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Paws tapped the hard ground behind her. A moist muzzle pressed against her fisted hand. Loosening the clenched grip, her fingertips found Goliath’s head, seeking comfort in the soft fur.

“I’m glad to hear that. Listen, our magazine’s planning a special golfer’s anniversary edition next month, and I’m writing a special feature on your father, highlighting his career. I’d love to include some personal tidbits, like some of the things you remember about him as a father. Is there any chance we can meet for an interview?”

Some personal tidbits? What she remembered about him as a father? Oh, yeah. She had plenty of memories, but none she was willing to share with the world. “No.” Good. Her voice sounded firm, unlike the gelatin her legs had become.

“A personal segment about what a great father he was would go a long way to—”

“I’m sorry, but no. Thank you for asking, but if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Rori disconnected the call and slid the phone back into her pocket. She closed her eyes and exhaled, hoping to expel the horrific memories and emotions the call invoked. Halloween Day. Twenty years ago. Her dad had picked up Rori and her brothers to go trick or treating.

“Are you all right?” A gentle touch landed on her arm.

Heaving a deep sigh, she swiped a sleeve across her cheeks and forced her lids up.

Graham’s concerned face was so much better than the picture implanted forever in her vision. She banished the memory to oblivion, the only way she had learned to cope over the years. “Yeah. Sorry I zoned out.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple miniature candies. “Want one?”

“Sure. Thanks.” He unwrapped the paper and popped the whole thing in his mouth.

She did the same with her favorite treat, savoring the melded taste of chocolate and peanut butter on her tongue, and moved back to the fence rail, resuming her vantage point.

Footsteps scuffled the ground, and then Graham was beside her.

The cool October breeze lifted the hair off her neck and reminded her that Graham still needed to change his shirt. What would he smell like if it weren’t for the llama crud? She cleared her throat, squashing that train of thought. “So what did you decide?”

“Decide?” A dark brow hiked.

Rori flicked her head towards the cria. “Her name.”

“You sure you want me to name her? My only contribution today was moral support.” He rammed a hand through his thick hair. A cowlick popped up in front.

Fighting the urge to smooth it down, she pulled out more candy and shared. “Yep. You name her.” She angled her body sideways and propped her boot against the rail, waiting for his response.

He bit into the candy and chewed, quietly staring at the cria and the leftover piece of chocolate before popping it in his mouth. “How about Reesie?”

She smiled. “That’s perfect, Graham. Her coloring matches the inside of my favorite candy. Reesie she is.” That settled, Rori turned and took off for the house then hesitated, glancing back over a shoulder. “You might want to ditch that shirt over there.” Her finger aimed towards the barn. “You wouldn’t want to corrupt that new car smell.”

“Not a bad idea.” His chuckle warmed her insides. He headed towards the barn, whipping the shirt over his head and tossing it on the pile of soiled linens, leaving his chest bare, exposed.

“I’ll get one of my brother’s shirts for you and throw the coffee on. You can meet me inside the house.” She jerked around and resumed walking before another emotion, one she had no practice or experience with, kindled a fire she didn’t want to burn.