was to know about someone, only to realize she’d barely scratched the surface. When it came to her relating to Luke on a personal level, she was going to have to stay on her toes. Their history together said that road was never going to be an easy one. But where the shelter was concerned, she’d come to the most amazing conclusion.
She trusted him to take care of the animals.
It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t be there almost all the time, overseeing things, working her heart out, even on Sundays if she felt the need to show up. And the obligation she had to the administration of this place still overwhelmed her. But after watching Luke with Manny, it was as if the cloud of responsibility she felt every day had begun to float past, letting her feel a few tiny rays of sunshine. And no matter how indifferently he acted toward the animals from now on, she would always know how he really felt.
Holding on to that little nugget of truth, she left the shelter. Went back to her apartment. Crawled back into bed.
And slept.
As the days passed, Luke discovered things at the shelter ran much as they had when he’d worked there before, with volunteers coming and going. Part of them were high school kids trying to fulfill their volunteer hours for graduation. They handled most of the dog walking, a necessary but lightweight job that was perfect for somebody who dropped by for an hour at a time and then left. Luke figured once their thirty hours were done, they’d probably never show up again. Other volunteers dealt mostly with the cats and dogs, playing with them, feeding them occasionally, but usually drawing the line at cleaning up after them. That job fell to Luke. But that was what he’d signed on for, so that was fine by him.
He’d already driven to Austin twice for physical therapy. In his room in the morning and evening, he performed every exercise the physical therapist suggested—twice—in addition to working out in the barn. His knee felt better with every day that passed. He only wished it was strong enough to get back on a bull again. He knew patience was a virtue, but he’d never been all that virtuous, and it just about killed him to sit out rodeo after rodeo. But one wrong twist, and not only might he be out for the year, but his career could be over for good.
One morning, Luke had just finished with the dogs when his phone rang. He looked at his caller ID. He didn’t recognize the number, but it was local. He picked it up to find Rita on the other end.
“Freddie Jo gave me your number,” she said. “Hope that was okay.”
“Sure.”
“So you got yourself a job at the shelter. Couldn’t believe it when I heard what happened to land you there. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“Medical bills ate up my savings. I needed a short-term job while I’m getting my knee back into shape.”
“How’s it coming along?”
“Not bad. I’ll be on the road to Denver soon.”
“How about lunch today?”
“Sure you want to be seen with me? There are people in this town who still think I’m evil.”
“I’m too old to give a damn what people think. Rosie’s at noon?”
Chapter 9
A little before noon, Luke lucked out and found a parking space on the square, which still oozed with the kind of charm people expected all of Rainbow Valley to have. Every business followed a strict set of unwritten rules. A floor could be gouged and scuffed and otherwise beat up—that was charming—but it couldn’t be dirty. Something could be painted an oddball color—that was quirky—but that paint couldn’t be peeling. Every shop owner had to be kind and welcoming, even if a dozen other emotions lurked beneath the surface. Rainbow Valley had always felt like a movie set to Luke. All façade and no substance.
As he got out of his truck and headed for Rosie’s, he passed Hildy and Honey Hancock, whom he’d have recognized no matter how long he’d been gone from Rainbow Valley. They were sisters who lived together in a house on Persian Street, trust fund babies who’d never worked a day in their lives and busied themselves instead with volunteer work. Honey had always been at least cordial to him in spite of his reputation, but Hildy had always treated him as if he had leprosy. He wasn’t sure, but it might have