“It really was.”
“So what’d you do then?” Isobel ate more of the vegetables and even a little bit of meatloaf, so interested in Reece’s bizarre story that for once she’d stopped obsessing over the calories going in her mouth.
Reece shrugged. “Jeremiah and I figured we’d go it on our own at that point. We worked odd jobs. We were in San Francisco at that point and it’s pretty chill there if you want to do the outdoor alternative living situation thing.”
Alternative outdoor—? Did he mean… homeless?
He moved on before Isobel could ask, though. “That got old after a while so we headed east doing different jobs that included room and board. That was when we hit Texas. We worked a ranch there for about a year but then we,” his eyes flicked toward his brother and for the first time in his disastrous tale the slightest shadow entered his eyes, “we wanted a new scene.” It sounded like the vague non-answer Isobel had given about why she’d come here. Hmm.
But then Reece smiled again. “Jeremiah saw the notice online for this place and we hopped on the first bus headed north. And here we are.” He held his arms out.
“And here we are,” Isobel echoed. She looked down at her plate, startled to find she’d eaten almost half of her food. She was full but not stuffed and she didn’t feel guilty or like she’d binged. She felt… well, normal.
She looked around the table. “I’m really happy to be here. It’s great to meet you all.” She hoped they could hear the sincerity in her voice.
She’d come here looking for an escape and if she read between the lines, it sounded like she might not be alone in doing so. She didn’t know anyone else’s story other than the twins, but Liam was obviously rich and not from around here, so what could have tempted him to come live out in the middle of nowhere, Wyoming? Then there was Mack, tattooed from head to toe. He didn’t exactly look like a rural farm setting was his natural habitat. Even Nicholas—why had he abandoned his home down south that he seemed to have so much love for to come here?
Maybe she’d never know why they were all here. But in this one evening she’d felt more at home with them than she had in the last year living with supposed family. This place was supposed to just be a rescue for horses, but it seemed like they just might take in lost strays of the human variety too.
Chapter 9
HUNTER
Hunter scraped the mud off his feet on the side of the concrete step by the back door of the clinic.
Right as he was about to open the door, it was yanked open from the inside and he was face to face with an irate Isobel.
“Where have you been? People have been waiting since I opened the doors at 8:30!”
He paused, taken aback. The whole drive here he’d been trying to tell himself she couldn’t possibly be as lovely or mesmerizing as his memory kept painting her. But here, standing in front of him looking pissed, with two spots of color high on her rosy cheeks, her black hair flying around her like a silky cloud that he just wanted to bury his hands in and—
He grimaced and pushed past her into the clinic’s small break room.
“Clinic doesn’t open ‘til 9:00.” He needed coffee. Now.
“And it’s 9:03.” She emphasized the oh-three like he’d committed an unforgiveable crime.
He was a grown man. He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. Still, he found himself growling, “Had a call out at the Johnson farm that took longer than expected. Had to extract a dead calf.” Second one in two days. Happened like that sometimes. People didn’t call for the vet when everything was going peachy.
“What?” she spat, then paused as if only just then processing what he’d said. “Oh.” She blinked. “I’m sorry. That’s horrible.”
He shrugged as he reached for a mug from beside the sink. “Happens.” He pressed the coffee dispenser pump but only a tiny amount of liquid came out before it sputtered. Damn it. It was office policy to run another pot whenever it ran out. He glared at Isobel as he jerked open the cabinet underneath the coffee maker to pull out a packet of grounds.
So he saw when Isobel’s back went stiff. “If you had a case this morning, why didn’t you call me? This is supposed to be an internship. How am I supposed to learn how to do the job if you don’t let me know about calls?”
He scoffed as he set the new pot of coffee brewing. “Because experience working on heifers at a quarter to six in the morning is going to be so helpful when you end up back in New York City.”
If he thought she’d gone stiff before, it was nothing to how ramrod straight she went at that comment. She took a step forward and pointed a finger into his chest. “You don’t know anything about me.” Her voice was arctic.
He held up his hands. “Fine.”
“Fine,” she snapped back.
Then he realized just how close they were standing. Her face was about six inches away from his.
He had the absurd impulse to shove her back against the door and kiss the living daylights out of her.
Her eyes widened suddenly and she yanked back. “Your first client is waiting in exam room one.” She picked up a file from the counter beside the sink and slapped it in his hand.