Page 19 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
“Whatever you think, Doc.” As much as Brand hated being parted from his beloved pet, he’d do anything to make sure Brutus was okay. He might already be ten years old, which was up there for a shepherd, but Brand wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his best friend yet.
“I’ll warn you, though, he may not run the way he used to,” Dr. Joe said, as if mirroring Brand’s thoughts. “He’s an elderly dog, even though he doesn’t act it, chasing after cattle out in those fields. But he should be around for a few more years, nipping at your heels and stealing food off lunch plates.”
Tears stung Brand’s eyes, and he wasn’t ashamed of wiping them away. “Thank you again. I’m sorry for busting in like this, and I’ll pay whatever emergency fee you want to charge me.”
Dr. Joe patted Brand’s shoulder. “How about we discuss that tomorrow when you pick Brutus up? You look like you could use a change of clothes and a snort or two of whiskey.”
Both of those things sounded like very good ideas. “Can I see him first? Just for a minute?”
The tech led him to a small room in the back with six kennels. Two held adult cats, and one of the largest on the bottom had Brutus. He lay under a blanket, his head facing the door, and his ears perked up when Brand approached, despite his eyes being a bit glassy. He still knew his human.
Brand squatted, biting back more joyful tears. His hand fit through the bars of the kennel, and he lightly dragged one finger down Brutus’s black snout. “Hey, buddy. I’m so sorry you got hurt, but you’re gonna be okay, I promise. You gotta stay here tonight, though. I know you’d rather sleep by my bed, but we can manage one night apart, right?”
Brutus licked his fingertip.
“Yeah.” Before he did turn into a blubbering mess, Brand stood and headed toward the waiting room. With a vague nod at Dr. Joe, he went directly outside into the fresh, cool air, Hugo not far behind. He stood by the truck and took a minute to compose himself, keenly aware of the dried blood all over his flannel shirt and jeans.
Hugo circled to stand in front of him, and Brand saw the streaks of blood on his own clothes, probably from the comforting hug he’d given Brand. The kind of hug that had kept him together when he’d wanted to fall apart. The kind of hug that said “I’ve got you” and “We’ll get through this together.”
The kind of hug Brand had craved for a long, long time.
“I’d offer to take you to the Roost for a beer,” Hugo said after they stared at each other in tense silence for a long time, “but we’re both covered in blood, and I don’t want someone to call the sheriff and report a murder.”
Brand wheezed laughter. “Good call. Wouldn’t mind that whiskey, though. Dad’s got a bottle in the kitchen.”
Hugo put a hand over his heart and feigned shock. “In the middle of a workday, Mr. All Work and No Play Makes Brand a Dull Boy?”
“Brat.” He rolled his shoulders and neck. “I should call my dad.”
“I texted him while you were with Brutus. Told him what we knew. He and Jackson are out taking care of the herd, so we can take our time.” Hugo tilted his head in a way that was both curious and boyishly adorable. “I guess your dad knows how much Brutus means to you, huh?”
“Yeah. Some people might think it’s silly to get so emotional over a dog but he’s my best friend. His sire was our old dog Champ, but his bitch belonged to a neighbor who bred shepherds. Brutus was the runt of the litter and so small that the woman who’d paid us to help sling the pups was gonna put him down, instead of trying to raise him to sell. I couldn’t let her, because he was the only boy pup and Champ was getting on in years. Said I’d buy the pup then and there, at only two weeks old, full-price no matter what happened. If he lived to eight weeks and weaned off her teat, I’d take him.”
“Wow.” Hugo stared at him with something like respect in his dark eyes. “You had a lot of faith in Champ’s genes, huh?”
“And in Brutus. He was the tiniest pup I’d ever seen, but man, when he was a year old, he saved my life. Bit the head clean off a rattler before it could bite me. I didn’t even see or hear the damned thing coming but Brutus did. He’s a loyal dog.”
“And that loyal dog will be home tomorrow. Might take some time before he’s out there working the cattle again, but he’s going to live, Brand. Hang on to that. Faith is the most important part.”
“Thanks.” Brand’s own heart betrayed him and his gaze strayed briefly down. Right to Hugo’s lips. But only for a split second, before he cleared his throat and looked at his own feet. “We should get back.”
“Yeah.” Hugo squeezed his wrist gently, then circled to the driver’s side of the truck. Got in and started the engine.
It took Brand a moment to unstick his crank and get into the truck. Some of Brutus’s blood stained the seats, and Brand made a mental note to clean that up before it set in too deeply. They didn’t speak on the drive back to the ranch, the radio quietly playing a local country station. Without meaning to, something had shifted between him and Hugo today, and Brand didn’t know what to do about it. Hugo was loyal, supportive, and kind (not to mention ten kinds of cute), and he’d dropped everything to help Brand save his dog. So much stronger than the scared teen he remembered.
But Brand couldn’t be more than friends with Hugo, no matter how much the idea intrigued his mind and warmed his heart. Too much was at stake with the ranch and keeping his family afloat. He’d resented his big brother, Colt, for a lot of years after Colt disappeared and Brand became the default next Woods to run the place. Brand had wanted to be a teacher, to help kids learn and grow. But he’d accepted the responsibility with both hands, and he couldn’t risk it all now.
Not for a fling with an employee.
Rose Woods flew out the front doors of the main house as soon as Hugo cut the engine of the truck, hands clasped over her chest as she approached. Brand climbed out, a bit stiff with shock, and he allowed his mother to squeeze both shoulders, and then his cheeks. Hugo had no doubt she would have hugged him if Brand wasn’t covered in blood.
Hugo put the keys under the visor, then got out and circled the truck, unsure what to do next. He and Brand had shared a moment. A real, honest-to-God moment back at the vet’s office. From the hug to Brand looking at his mouth like he wanted to kiss him. For all Hugo had tried to keep his distance and play it cool, he’d been helpless under the force of Brand’s fear and uncertainty. Helpless to do anything except try and fix it for him. But Hugo couldn’t fix Brutus. All he could do was be present and give Brand anything he needed.
“Poor Brutus,” Rose said. It had taken Hugo a while to start thinking of the elder Woods couple by their first names, but Wayne had encouraged it. “He’ll be okay?”
“Dr. Joe thinks so,” Brand replied, still a bit hoarse. He looked like he wanted to burst into tears but was keeping it together for appearances, even though he was around family. No one would care if he showed emotion. “He’s keeping him overnight, but I should be able to bring him home tomorrow. Probably have to make a bed for him in the living room. Doubt he’ll be able to take the stairs with all those stitches.”
“Then we’ll do just that. Brutus might have four legs but he’s still part of the family.”
