Page 83 of The Wounded Warrior

Luke nodded. Anytime you lived in the sticks, animals came and went. “I bet Mal ran it off just staring at it out the window.”

“Hell, she could possibly light it on fire.”

“She might just.” Luke shook his head. That cat was a force of nature. “What kind of dog was it so I can be on the lookout?”

“Pit mix. Pregnant. Liver-colored.”

“Oh, man.” That was a tough row to hoe. A stray momma dog. He’d have Matt ride out and watch for her.

“Yeah. I’m hoping she’s hiding out in your barn between us. You been out there at all?”

“I have, but I’m glad I didn’t put out the rat poison yet if we got dogs and stuff. I’ll get traps instead. Those box ones.”

“Yeah.” Rory grinned at him, tickled as hell. “So, what can I do?”

“Well, I need to check hooves on a couple of the ladies over there.” Luke pointed across the way. “You want to take over? On her body you go in light circles. On her legs, down to just above her hocks, just brush like you would a dog. Then use the soft brush in the caddy there to do her hocks and ears and face and just around her tail.” Rory gave him an arch glare and his cheeks heated. “Right. Sorry. You make it easy to forget; you’re so fine.”

“Yeah. Y’all think I’m a dipshit and I know it. Go on.”

Luke rolled out of his way. “Hell, babe, I have no idea if you know donkeys. You got some fancy horses. Ropers.”

“Hee-haw! Have I never spoken to you of Rowenna’s beloved donkey, Ho-Tee?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Luke shook his head. “That’s awful.”

“She was ten. She thought it was brilliant.”

“Lord have mercy.” Luke grabbed a hoof pick. Miss Jasmine would be fine, but the chair still made Pickle nervous. She would try to kick.

Rory whistled and chattered as they worked, the sound comforting and easy. Matt would kill him, no question, but Luke liked it.

When Rory finished with the donkey, Luke had him move on to washing down a mare who’d caught her side on something sharp and needed doctoring every day.

“Lord, honey, you have to watch this shit. You’re awful pretty to be tearing yourself up.”

The mare bobbed her head, snorting and blowing her lips.

“She loves it when you talk to her.”

“She’s a beauty. Seriously. Are any of these guys going to move to the Rocking W?”

“Petal is. These two here. Jasmine and Pickle. Pickle still needs a lot of work. She was badly beaten and is skittish.”

“Who does that?” Rory sounded utterly confused, genuinely.

“Assholes, I guess.” Luke pushed back, then put a hand on Jasmine’s flank to keep her in the loop. “Okay, lady, time to give me a hoof.”

Jasmine offered it up, no problem. Her hooves had been a mess when they’d picked her up at auction, but they were good now.

“That’s it, baby girl. You’ll be able to range with the others. Farrier comes next week to do your final check-up.”

“You know, it’s a cruel irony that furrier and farrier are only one letter apart, Luke.”

Luke blinked. Rory did think of the strangest things. Of course, he thought of a buddy who was into furries…

“Okay, what’s so funny?” Rory asked.

“You ever hear of a furry fetish?”

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