His concern wasn’t necessary. They simply carried on walking around the ring, and Emma’s voice drifted over to him.
“The thing is, it’s really special here too. The air seems fresher. The grass greener. Everything here is so quiet. Peaceful, really.”
A truck’s door opened then closed, followed by a couple more doors, then Alan’s low voice carried through the air. “Whatcha got, Shep?”
Reassured Bentley wasn’t going to hurt Emma, Shep turned, discovering Alan, the longtime vet in River Rock, and his twenty-something brunette assistant, Cheryl, entering the sand ring. “Colic,” he explained. “I think we might be out of danger now.” Walking a horse during colic could, and often would, either pass the stomach pains the horse endured, or loosen things up enough that the horse could pass whatever impaction was causing the trouble.
Wearing a dark cowboy hat, matching boots, jeans, and a T-shirt with the River Rock Veterinary Clinic logo on the front, Alan regarded Bentley with his wise dark-brown eyes, surrounded by wrinkles. “Are those his droppings?” At Shep’s nod, he asked, “Recent?”
“A couple of minutes ago.”
“That’s a good sign.” With Cheryl following behind holding onto the black vet bag and a jug of mineral oil, he moved to Emma’s side. “I take it you’re Daisy Monroe’s granddaughter.”
“Yep, I’m Emma.” She smiled.
“All right, Emma, let’s take a look at your boy here.” Alan held out his hand, taking the lead from Emma and handing it to Cheryl. “We’ve got it from here, go rest up. I’m sure you’ve been walking a while.”
Emma nibbled her lip, obviously not wanting to leave Bentley. Shep couldn’t fight his smile. Never did he think the time would come that not only did Emma become close to Bentley, but she wanted to protect him. Slowly, though, she must have begun to realize she’d just be in the way and ventured over to Shep.
He gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “You did good.”
“That was so scary.” She stared up at him with those green beauties sparkling at him. “Thanks for helping me.”
He nodded, not wanting the appreciation. There was nowhere else he’d rather be than right here, but he didn’t want to tell her. Fuck, he didn’t want to scare her again. And last night was a reminder about how truly skittish she was. One second, she was melting under his touch. The next, she was cold as ice. That was her fear of being hurt again, he understood that. But he didn’t like it.
Emma glanced out at Bentley, so Shep followed her gaze. Alan covered his arm with a long glove then picked up the manure and squished it between his fingers.
“Ugh,” Emma grumbled. “I could never be a vet.”
Shep arched an eyebrow. “Examining horse shit doesn’t sound like fun to you?”
“Not particularly.” She laughed.
Christ, when she looked at him so unguarded, he became undone. It was easy to get caught up with the idea that he’d actually met a woman that made him happy. Almost as easy as it was to forget the biggest obstacle of making a relationship happen was Emma herself.
Time.
That’s all he needed. She had to forget Jake. Shep needed to prove himself, and that he would do.
Intent on bringing her closer, he squeezed his arm around her neck. He was kissing the top of her head when a soft voice behind him said, “Hello.”
Shep sighed, turned, discovering a big smile on a face that he didn’t expect here today. “Emma,” he said, controlling the annoyance in his voice. “This is Jenny, my mother.” She must’ve driven up when Alan had, but because Shep had been keeping a close eye on Bentley, he hadn’t noticed her.
“Hi.” Emma glanced from Shep to Jenny, her cheeks turning pink. “It’s nice to meet you.” She offered her hand underneath the top wood plank of the fence.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you, my dear. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by like this uninvited.” Jenny smiled at Shep before addressing Emma again. “I’ve brought you some soup.” She held up a big bowl. “It’s beef barley.”
Shep snorted, shaking his head at his mother. So that was why she was making soup. Obviously, his mother planned on stopping by Emma’s today no matter what Shep wanted. While his mother tended to do things her way, Shep couldn’t fault her, he lived by those same rules too.
“Beef barley is my favorite.” Emma smiled. “Thank you so much.”
“I thought it might be.” Jenny smiled in return. “Did you know that it was your grandmother’s favorite soup too?”
“No, I didn’t,” Emma said.
“She made it every year for the Christmas celebrations downtown.”
“Grams was an excellent cook.”