Page 20 of His Eighth Ride

Tag met her eye. “We?”

Opal tossed her head slightly, as if trying to absorb his question. “Yes, we. I don’t have anything to do, and I can explain my medical choices.”

Tag grinned at her, feeling his mouth pull up too far on the right side. “You babysit West in the mornings.”

“West loves dogs,” Opal said without missing a beat. “He has a carseat, and he won’t be any trouble at the vet.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m going to call him right now.”

“Who?”

“The vet.”

“It’s midnight, Opal.”

“Hmm.” She lowered her phone. “I’ll call Deac and ask him to call for us when he gets up in the morning.” She gave him a knowing look. “I mean, I won’t be up early enough to get one of the emergency appointments.”

“I can call the vet in the morning.” Tag suddenly had to stifle a yawn. “Should I—can I move him to my cabin?”

Opal looked down at the sleeping Boots. “No, he should just stay here. He’ll be warm and comfortable, and he’s got Max and this blanket.”

Tag got up and retrieved another blanket. He met Opal’s eye as he returned and dropped back to the ground.

“You’re not sleeping out here,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.” He bunched up the second blanket to use as a pillow and lay down next to Boots. Max whined and put his hand on Tag’s shoulder.

“Tag.”

“Opal, I am not leaving him out here alone. What if he wakes up and starts tearing at his bandage?” He gave her a side-eyed look and closed his eyes.

She didn’t get up and leave immediately, and then she started cleaning up the supplies she’d gotten out. “Okay,” she said as she snapped the lid closed on the first aid kit. “I’ll be right back with the proper human supplies needed for sleeping in a barn with a couple of dogs.”

“I don’t need you to do that,” Tag said. “You’re not supposed to carry anything heavier than a loaf of bread.”

“I won’t,” she promised. She got to her feet and headed for the door.

“Opal,” he called, and he lifted his head to look at her. She turned back, waiting. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She ducked out into the cold, and Tag let that yawn come out of his mouth. The barn housed a lot of living things, and Tag closed his eyes as he listened to the horses and dogs breathe in and out.

His back ached, and he shifted his feet to try to get the pinch to go away. Then, the cement along his back side started to seep through his clothes, and Tag thought about getting another blanket.

He’d just started to doze when the door opened again. It banged against the wall, startling him. Max too, as the German shepherd jumped to his feet and started barking.

“It’s just me,” Opal said from somewhere still outside, and the sight of the end of that blow-up purple couch got Tag right back to his feet.

He ran over to help her, and together, they managed to get the couch inside. Opal’s cheeks were flushed, whether from wrestling with purple plastic or the cold, Tag wasn’t sure. He did know it made her absolutely beautiful, and he quickly closed the door behind her.

“You can sleep on my couch,” she said. He moved it over beside Max and Boots, and Opal had picked up the blanket. “Go on.” She grinned. “Lay down, and I’ll tuck you in.”

He did, the couch bouncing with his weight. She covered him with the blanket and then went to turn down the lights in the barn. “There,” she said quietly.

“Opal,” he said, his mind already halfway back to sleep.

“Yeah?”

“Does he look okay?”

She came back over to the three of them and knelt down next to Boots. “I think he’s going to heal up fine, Tag.”

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