Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones of Texas 6)

While at the veterinary hospital she’d dealt with emus, bobcats, dogs and cats, horses and cows, as well as a giraffe, a lion cub and several reptiles. She’d liked the fast pace, liked to stay busy, but was ready for the next step. And since her grades continued to put her on the wait list for admission into the veterinary school, she hadn’t been sure what the next step was. Until the job offer in Fort Kyle came in. Starting over someplace familiar, being close to Lynnie and Scarlett, made the decision easy. Fort Kyle’s clients might not be quite as varied, but her experience had prepared her for pretty much anything.

Well, in the workplace.

Life outside of work was still a challenge. She glanced at Lynnie’s house again. Obviously.

Two years and three weeks had passed since... She couldn’t think it. Couldn’t go there. Because nothing had changed. Not on the inside. Every day she got out of bed, got dressed, went through the motions and fought back the crippling grief that threatened to drown her. It was like moving through cement, weighing her down, pressing in on her until breathing was a chore.

How could she let go? How could she move on? She’d lost her daughter that day. But she’d lost herself, as well.

Banshee sat up, staring off into the dark, his ears perked up and his tail rigid. She stared into the darkness, the opposite direction of Lynnie’s place. Banshee’s keen senses were picking up on something her human eyes couldn’t. Whatever it was, he was on high alert.

Her phone vibrated, making her jump. She pulled it from her pocket and looked down.

Got your number from Scarlett. Pearl’s sleeping. Rain check on the walk? —Click

She stared at the text. This was good. This was right. So why wasn’t she relieved?

Sure. She stared at the text, hit Send and shoved the phone back into her pocket. Her hands gripped the splintered porch railing.

Banshee was on his feet then, the hair along the back of his neck bristling and a low growl rumbling up from his chest.

“Let’s call it a night,” she said to Banshee, using her most cajoling voice. “Okay?”

He whimpered, glancing from her to the dark and back again.

“I know you could beat it, whatever it is.” She ran a hand down his back then headed in the house. “Come on, Banshee,” she called ou

t to him.

He barked once, the need to defend his person and his territory overruling her. But once the warning was issued, he trotted into the house and flopped on the massive dog bed beneath the window.

“You’re a good boy,” she said, sliding the lock into place. She knew Banshee could protect her, no matter what. But he didn’t spook easy. “We’re getting up early tomorrow. Going to check out the clinic and explore a little of Fort Kyle.”

Banshee rested his head on his paws, those golden eyes drooping shut. She could only hope sleep would find her so easily.

* * *

IT WAS BARELY six in the morning. Click yawned, watching Pearl toddle across the living room. She was into everything. He’d already moved Lynnie’s teacup collection up onto the highest shelf of her ornate bookcase. All the framed pictures, books and treasured knickknacks that reminded him of Lynnie had also been moved outside his inquisitive daughter’s reach.

Now he was worried about her climbing up the carved bookcase. Or pinching her fingers in the door hinges.

He needed to check on the horses, assess the state of the barn and start making repairs. Whether he was selling or staying, the place needed some TLC. But how was he supposed to get anything done with Pearl underfoot?

Lynnie would have occupied her and told him what to do. If he sat still, he could almost hear her in the kitchen, or the creak of her rocker as she swayed slowly, knitting spilling from her lap and onto the floor. Her patience had been as boundless as her energy. He could use some of both right about now.

“Da da,” Pearl said, smiling as she hurried across the floor to him. She held up his keys, jangling them. “Da da.”

“Keys?” he said, smiling and lifting her into his lap. “You like making noise?” he asked, standing. “It does jingle.”

She shook the keys.

“Yep, jingle.” He eyed the coffeepot, steaming and spewing—but no coffee was filling the pot. Coffee was a necessity.

She nodded, shaking the keys vigorously.

“You like music?” he asked, remembering how much she’d enjoyed dancing last night. She’d hummed herself to sleep in her car seat. “Music,” he said, walking to the radio Lynnie kept on the counter. He flipped it on, tuning it to one of the three stations. Classic country tunes, steel guitars and a fiddle, spilled out into the room. “Music.”

Pearl stared at the little box, her eyes going round. “Mew...”