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Corbin was surprised. He hadn’t heard that piece of gossip. “He had a heart attack? When?”
“Around five months ago.”
Five months ago? Corbin knew Hank’s stress hadn’t been about the ranch, but about the loan he couldn’t pay back. Guilt settled over him. “He’s okay now, right?”
“Yeah, but he still needs to keep his stress level down. Which is why I pushed him to take a little trip. We’re leaving tomorrow to go see Hallie in Austin for a few days and then up to Dallas to see Noelle.”
He stared at her. “Who will take care of the ranch?”
“Well, you and Sunny, of course. I figure it will be good practice for when we leave at the end of next month.”
Corbin should be happy Mimi was so ready to leave. And he was. He was also more than a little nervous about having the entire responsibility of running the ranch on his shoulders. He had learned a lot in the last week about caring for the cattle and horses, but not nearly enough. But before he could voice his concerns, Sweetie came weaving her way through the blankets of families covering the town park.
“Did Belle show up?”
“Nope,” Mimi said. “And if she hasn’t by now, I don’t think she’s going to. Why?”
“Because everything has gone to hell in a handcart. When Liberty left Cloe and me in charge of the picnic festivities, we thought it would just involve putting up a few flags and decorations and making sure there were plenty of popsicles for the kids. We didn’t realize we’d have to deal with finding a replacement for a sick clown, the face painters running out of paint, the band not showing up, and the veterans—who should be getting ready to be honored at this very second—getting into an argument over what war was the toughest.” She threw up her hands. “And it’s just more stress than two expecting women should have to handle!”
Mimi held out Tay. “Here. Animals always take the stress away and calm people down.” For once, Tay didn’t nip or scratch. She just settled into Sweetie’s arm as if she knew she had a job to do. “Now take a deep breath,” Mimi continued. “I’m sure we can figure this out.”
“I don’t know how.” Sweetie stroked Tay. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the veterans aren’t pulling out weapons about now.”
“Then they need a voice of reason.” Mimi looked at Corbin. “Cory, you go help Sweetie get this figured out.” He started to argue that this wasn’t his problem, but she shut him down. “I mean it. Go on now.”
Sweetie wasn’t far off about the veterans being ready to draw weapons. By the time he and Sweetie arrived behind the gazebo where the veterans were waiting to be called on stage, there was definite hostility brewing. The Vietnam vets were ranting about Desert Storm not being a war while one really old guy was banishing his cane at another old guy and yelling about remembering the Alamo.
Corbin wasn’t sure what to do, but after a few minutes of watching the chaos, he decided to treat the situation like any business meeting that had gotten completely off track.
“Silence!” he yelled. When everyone stopped arguing and turned to him, he cleared his throat. “Now I’m sure we can settle this without raising our voices.”
The old guy shook his cane. “Pistols at dawn!”
Corbin blinked. “That wasn’t quite what I was thinking. I was thinking we would calmly—”
“Why would we care what you’re thinking?” The big-bellied guy in the biker vest cut him off. “Aren’t you the asshole who stole the Holiday Ranch? If we meet anyone at dawn, it should be you, you thieving bastard!”
That seemed to consolidate the vets. They all circled around Corbin and started yelling their agreement. Before he could calm them—or decide to get the hell out of there—Mickey Gilley showed up. The large dog came bounding out of nowhere into the group, barking and jumping on everyone with excited tail wagging.
Following the dog was Belle.
It annoyed the hell out of Corbin that his heart did a little jump in his chest at just the sight of her. The sides of her hair were pulled up in tiny clips with rhinestone butterflies and the rest of it fell around her shoulders in ebony curls. She wore a pretty blue gingham sundress that matched the flush in her cheeks.
“Gilley!” She tried to grab the dog’s dangling leash, but Gilley dodged her and darted around the circle of vets . . . until he spotted Tay in Sweetie’s arms. Then his eyes lit up and he raced straight for Sweetie with tongue lolling.
Corbin stepped in his path and pointed a finger. “Sit!”
Surprisingly, Gilley sat. At least long enough for Belle to grab his leash and praise the dog as if he hadn’t just been racing out of control.
“What a good boy.” She lavished him with ear scratches and kisses on his furry head. Corbin ignored the stab of jealousy. “What a good, good boy.”
Sweetie peeked around Corbin. “Where in the world did you get that huge beast, Belly?”
“Gilley’s not a beast. He’s a sweetheart.” Belle giggled as the dog gave her a big sloppy lick of thanks. She straightened. “He’s mine. I adopted him from Melba this morning.” She glanced at Corbin and smiled a bright smile that made his stomach feel like he’d swallowed a tank of helium.
What the hell?
“But I thought big dogs scared you,” Sweetie said.
