Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding

Still, he understood why Renata was so surprised. She was an adult. Sick or not, she should be able to do whatever she wanted. Even if Renata’s father didn’t agree.

“No, ma’am. I’m not. Don’t make me worry over you when I don’t need to.” Mr. Boone patted Renata’s cheek. “Humor your old man, won’t ya?”

Score one for Mr. Boone. His plea had Renata’s posture easing and her expression softening. And it warmed him to see the obvious love she had for her father. Not that it was a surprise. He knew firsthand how passionate she could be. It made sense that she’d love just as fiercely.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Not like you’re giving me a choice here, Daddy.”

Mr. Boone chuckled. “Guess I’m not.”

She rolled her eyes, but the fight was gone. Instead, Ash saw only adoration in her gaze. There was an abundance of love in this family—something he’d do well to emulate in his own household.

“Come on, now, give me a hug so I know you still love me.” The older man held his arms out to Renata.

Renata didn’t hesitate. She melted into her father’s arms, a smile on her face. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Where do you think you got it from?” Mr. Boone patted her back. “You go, soak in a bath, put your feet up, read a book. Be quiet and calm, you hear?”

Over her father’s shoulder, Renata’s blue eyes locked with his. Her smile instantly stiffened. Her father turned, giving Ash what could only be called a head-to-toe inspection.

To walk away now would be plain rude, so he crossed the room, hand outstretched. “Mr. Boone? I’m John-Asher Carmichael. Ash. The new vet at the hospital—”

“Yes, sir. Fisher told me all about you.” The man smiled instantly. “Ash. Good to meet you, son. I’d love to sit and talk a spell, but we’ve got this damn hayride tonight. Can I count on you to join us for breakfast in the morning?”

He’d snuck out early this morning to avoid that very thing. But there wasn’t a single excuse for him to turn the man down. “If it’s not an imposition?” he asked, the irritation rolling off Renata impossible to miss. The question was: Who was the irritation for? Him or her father? Both, probably.

Mr. Boone shook his head. “And call me Teddy, son. The amount of time we’ll be spending together we’ll practically be family.”

Renata made an odd sound in the back of her throat, but when he looked her way she was staring into the fire, arms crossed over her chest.

“I appreciate the hospitality, Teddy.” He smiled.

“Of course.” Teddy smiled back, checked his watch and shook his head. “I’m holding everyone up. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

The farther away Mr. Boone got, the more Renata’s smile faded.

His first thought had been escape, space, air... But now. They were both here. Alone. No time like the present to clear the air. “Renata—”

She held up her hand. “Not now.”

He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Teddy Boone made his way to the front, shaking hands and making cordial small talk with guests, until he closed the door behind him. When Ash looked back, Renata was heading in the opposite direction.

Dammit.

She disappeared behind the carved wooden kitchen door on

the far side of the great room. Did she want him to follow her? Or was this a not-so-subtle attempt to avoid a conversation altogether? It could wait—not like either one of them was going anywhere.

But he was hungry.

He followed her into the kitchen before he could stop himself—to find her rifling through the refrigerator.

“Hungry?” His stomach rumbled loud enough there was no way she could miss it. She didn’t look at him. “Stomach feeling better?”

He glanced around the kitchen, impressed again. The Boones. The Lodge. The hospital. They put their full support behind things they believed in—that much was clear—down to the details. He’d noticed that during his first visit. This kitchen, with its old-fashioned wood-burning stove and its state-of-the-art range, was no different. A massive wooden banquet table lined with chairs and padded benches would sit a large crew. Perfect for the Boones. But Ash didn’t sit. He was too nervous—too jumpy. Instead, he leaned against the kitchen counter and waited.

“You caught me on an off day.” Finally, she glanced at him. “Maybe I thought sharing every random piece of information I know about Stonewall Crossing was riveting stuff.” She smiled. “Sorry for that.”

He had only fond memories of that smile. Memories he’d savored more than a few times since he’d left here. “I was... Well, I hadn’t expected to see you, either, you know?” He nodded. “It was...unexpected.”