Molly couldn’t take in the scene in front of her fast enough. The sheer number of dogs in the field overwhelmed her instantly, and the fact that one man controlled them and commanded them made her jaw drop.
“That’s my uncle,” Hunter said, lifting his hand in a wave as the man in the center of at least forty dogs did.
“This is incredible,” Molly said, trying to find another landmark to latch onto. She kept coming back to the mob of large dogs, the majority of them German shepherds or close to that size, because they were so impressive.
“He’s had this facility for oh, I don’t know. Eight years.”
Molly gasped as she saw a smaller figure out in the field with the dogs. “Oh, my goodness.” Her hand in Hunter’s tightened. “There’s a child out there.”
Hunter chuckled and put his foot up on the bottom rung of the fence. “That’s my cousin, Chris. He’s Ames’s oldest, and he’s named after my grandfather.” Hunter wore the family pride right in his voice.
“He’s barely taller than those dogs,” Molly said, her heart still pounding. “How old is he?”
“Five or six,” Hunter said. “I think six. I think he just turned six this past spring.” He glanced at Molly and grinned. “He’s got a twin, Lars. Uncle Ames said they wanted to mail me a piece of birthday cake, and neither of them would let it go. So my uncle finally said he’d take the cake and mail it. He called me while he ate it around the side of the garage.” Hunter laughed, and Molly really liked how close he was with his family. Not just his core family either, but all of these uncles and cousins.
Her heart jumped again, because they had dinner plans with another of his uncles that evening, and apparently all five of the Hammond brothers would be there. Molly’s memory strained around the edges, because she’d attended a couple of big family dinners with Hunter the one summer she’d come to Coral Canyon with his family.
They’d come for Ames’s wedding, in fact.
The man in the field whistled, and all the dogs dropped to the ground. He said something to the six-year-old, who opened a gate. The dogs closest to it started inside, and soon enough, all the dogs had been penned and contained.
From there, she watched them walk through little doorways cut into the side of a building, where they could obviously go to rest or find a patch of shade. Plenty of them stayed outside too, and Ames said something to his son before turning toward Hunter and Molly.
He jogged the last few steps, laughing by the time he reached Hunter. He took Hunter into a tight hug, and Molly stood back and watched the love between the two of them. “Look how tall you are,” Ames said, gripping Hunter’s shoulders and standing back.
He did stand about three inches taller than his uncle, and he had to be over six feet. “It’s the cowboy hat,” Hunter said, taking it off.
It wasn’t the cowboy hat, and Ames Hammond said so. His gaze shot to Molly, and his smile didn’t slip a single bit. “Hello, Molly.”
“Hello, sir.” She extended her hand for him to shake, but he took it and pulled her in for a hug.
“Don’t sir me,” he said, chuckling. “I already feel really old with Hunter here showing me how grown up he is.” He stepped back and grinned at her.
“How old are you now, Uncle Ames?” Hunter asked innocently, but one look at his face showed he knew exactly what he was asking.
“Fifty-three,” Ames said, lifting his cowboy hat too. “Good news is I still have all my hair.” He slicked it back with his free hand. “At least you know we have good genes for that, Molly.”
She laughed with him, her thoughts racing ahead twenty-five years to when she and Hunter would be fifty years old. Ames had just said she wouldn’t have to worry about Hunter being bald then, as if she’d still be in Hunter’s life.
Warmth filled her, and she met Hunter’s eye. He was thinking something along the same lines as her, she was fairly sure, but he hadn’t even kissed her yet. Her body temperature increased as she thought about kissing him, and her blood burned with desire.
“You definitely have the land for an equine therapy unit,” Hunter said. “Maybe not as much as I’ve got at