The Texan's Tennessee Romance / The Rancher & the Reluctant Princess: The Texan's Tennessee Romance / The Rancher & the Reluctant Princess

“Yes.”

“He’s earlier than usual.”

“He’s hungry, I guess.”

She moved toward the kitchen. “I’ll get the bowls.”

The dog sat at the edge of the woods again, but maybe a bit closer to the cabin than he’d ventured before. His tail wagged against the ground when Casey and Natalie brought the bowls. And Natalie would have sworn the dog smiled just a little when they set them in front of him.

The dog ate part of the food, and drank a little of the water. And then he just sat there, watching them.

“He doesn’t seem to be as hungry as he has been,” Natalie remarked.

“Well, yeah. We’ve been feeding him. Maybe he just wanted to make sure we were still here with the food.”

“Maybe he did.” She studied the dog, then on impulse knelt down and held out her hand.

“Hi, buddy,” she said, using the same soft tone and nickname that Casey always employed with the stray. “Have you figured out we’re not going to hurt you?”

It was almost as if he’d been waiting for her to reach out. The dog rose, walked straight toward her, sniffed her fingers, then licked her hand. His tail wagged behind him as he gazed up at her with what could only be called a melting look.

“Wow,” Casey said, sounding both startled and amused. “He’s certainly taking to you. Are you wearing beef-scented perfume or something today?”

Tentatively, she patted the dog’s dirty head. The matted tail wagged more eagerly. “I don’t think he understands that I’m not really a dog person.”

“He thinks you are.” Casey knelt beside her and the dog sniffed his hand, then allowed Casey to pet him briefly on the head. And then the dog turned back to Natalie, moving closer to her, his body touching her knees.

Though the mutt was in dire need of a bath, Natalie didn’t recoil. A little dirt wouldn’t hurt her jeans. And she had to admit that she was rather touched that he seemed to have taken to her. Maybe it would be easier to find a good home for him if they could convince him that humans could be nice to have around. “How old do you think he is?”

“A year, maybe? Year-and-a-half at the most.”

“I wonder if he’s ever had a home.”

“My guess would be yes. I think he’s been socialized at some point. He was probably dumped or abandoned when someone moved or when he got bigger than expected or maybe they just got tired of him. Or maybe he got lost and never found his way back home again.”

“Do you think someone is looking for him?”

“No collar. And he’s ragged enough that he looks like he’s been on his own for a while. So, no, probably not.”

Giving the mutt one last pat, she rose from the uncomfortable crouch. The dog gazed up at her, then trotted over to take another drink, after which he curled in the sun and watched them from sleepy-lidded eyes.

“Doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere for now,” Casey commented. “He’s staying near the food.”

“Have you mentioned him to Kyle or Molly yet? To see if they know someone who would be willing to take him?”

“No, not yet. I wanted to see if he showed the potential to be a family pet. After this morning, I’m thinking yes.”

She looked back over her shoulder as they moved toward the house. The dog lay in his sunny spot, his eyes closed now. The air was chilly, and the ground was probably still cold from the night, but he seemed to be getting enough warmth from the bright morning sun to keep him comfortable. “He’d probably be more appealing to a potential owner if he had a bath.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time for now.”

That sounded like a good idea—in a lot of ways, she decided.

She looked at the ladder and caulking supplies sitting by the side of the cabin where Casey had been working before he’d spotted the dog. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Sure, if you’re looking for something to do.”

She nodded on a sudden decision. “I’d like to help.”

Anything to get her out of that house. Away from the computer that was doing her so little good. Away from the phone that remained frustratingly silent, except from the occasional call from Amber. And distracted from the nagging fears that she was going to run out of savings before she cleared her name and found another position.

“You might want to get a jacket. And your gloves. Maybe a cap.”

“Can I bring you anything?”

“I’m okay for now.”

“Then I’ll be right back.”

She was inside less than ten minutes. Returning with her gloves, she came to a stop on the deck when she saw that the dog had moved closer to the cabin and was now sitting only a few yards from the steps, gazing expectantly up at her. “I didn’t bring you any more food, Buddy.”

“He’s been sitting there ever since you went inside. I just looked around and there he was. What did you do, hypnotize him?”

“I didn’t do anything. You were the one who talked to him most and fed him and everything.”

Shrugging, Casey quipped, “Guess he just fell under your irresistible spell.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Casey laughed and turned with her toward the cabin. The dog curled up nearby, apparently content to be near them and the food without being too close for his own comfort level.

Had anyone asked, Natalie would have had a hard time explaining how she and Casey ended up visiting the large aquarium in downtown Gatlinburg at six that evening. They’d finished working on the cabin only an hour earlier, and here they were, walking into a popular tourist attraction.

She wasn’t even sure who’d first mentioned the aquarium, though she knew Casey was the one who’d suggested they visit after she admitted that she loved them. He hadn’t even had to work very hard to convince her to agree. She had looked at the empty cabin waiting for her and then at Casey’s smiling face, and she’d weighed her choices. Obsessing about her problems—or spending a few hours in an aquarium with a very likable and attractive man. It was a no-brainer, really.

She spent the next two hours laughing. A lot. She laughed at the “fishy-faces” Casey made at the colorful inhabitants of the many tanks. She laughed when he held a horseshoe crab and talked her into holding one, too. She laughed when he reached down to pat a ray in a sandy-bottomed petting tank and got splashed in the face when one of the rays playfully slapped the water with a broad wing.

They stared mesmerized at the otherworldly jellyfish undulating through water to the strains of piped-in, new age music. They rode the moving walkway through a long Plexiglas tube that gave them up-close views of sharks swimming toward them and over their heads. They oohed and aahed over the vivid colors and spectacular markings of the many different types of fish in the tropical displays. They admired sea horses and leafy sea dragons, and watched a sea turtle slowly surface for air. They had fun.

Walking out of the aquarium with a bag full of the souvenirs Casey had insisted on buying her in the gift shop—a coffee mug and a T-shirt printed with the aquarium logo and a stuffed shark—Natalie was bemused that a day that had started so glumly had ended so pleasurably. The downtown area was beautiful, already wrapped in thousands of tiny LED lights that created a spectacular winter wonderland for the upcoming holidays. Trolleys ran from the aquarium all around the area on Christmas-light-viewing tours and even on a weeknight two weeks before Thanksgiving, business was already brisk.

She glanced at Casey and saw that he was watching her with an almost smug expression. Had he read her a little too well again? Was he privately taking credit for putting a smile on her face after catching her at a low point that morning?

She supposed she couldn’t blame him, since it was entirely true.

“How about a walk along the river?” he asked, motioning toward the walkway that meandered alongside the gurgling Little Pigeon River.

Lined with benches and gazebos, the walkway was festooned with twinkling holiday lights overhead and was already being enjoyed by several couples. There couldn’t be a more romantic setting for an after-dark stroll with a handsome man, and Natalie saw no reason at all to decline. “I’d like that.”