Page 251 of Josephine and Clay

She shrugs. "Want to know what everybody else sees?"

I follow her gaze. "What?"

"A man who's spent the last week acting like somebody handed him the winning lottery ticket."

Heat creeps into my cheeks. "Penny."

"I'm serious."

"You barely see him."

"I see him plenty."

That is unfortunately true; Buckhorn isn't large enough to hide in.

She grins. "Yesterday your cowboy wandered into the general store and bought baby books."

I stare at her. "He bought what?"

"Baby books."

A laugh escapes before I can stop it.

The image is so absurdly sweet that my chest aches.

Penny points triumphantly. "There it is."

"What?"

"That smile."

I hate how pleased she looks. "You're impossible."

"Thank you."

The afternoon passes quickly after that.

Back at the clinic, appointments keep me occupied: a golden retriever with an ear infection, a nervous mare, and another goat determined to consume part of my paperwork.

A fairly standard afternoon.

I'm finishing notes at the front desk when an older rancher named Harold Sutton appears carrying a cat crate.

The cat inside looks offended by the entire concept of being alive.

Harold sets the carrier down. "Afternoon, Doc."

"Afternoon."

The cat hisses.

Harold nods toward the examination room. "Same issue as last time."

"Let's have a look."

As I reach for the carrier, Harold squints at me.

Then he narrows his eyes even further, which somehow feels worse.