High Country Hearts

He nodded toward the pup. “Looks as if he thinks he’s found a friend.”

“For life,” she said, bracing her feet as they jolted along the rutted, winding road. Passing by another of the property’s cabins, its guests relaxing on the porch, she marveled at the day’s turn of events. When she’d awakened that morning, never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined she’d be on a rescue mission with an injured dog that wasn’t hers. Or with Rob McGuire, for that matter.

He wasn’t hers, either.

Yet.

She directed her smile at Elmo. “Hang in there, Rob’s going to save you.”

Halfway across a creek that snaked through Singing Rock’s acreage, the Jeep jerked to a halt on the weathered bridge. Rob stuck his arm out the window, motioning to a muscular, Western-hatted man picking his way along the edge of the water, a fishing pole and tackle box in hand.

“Brett!”

The man, dressed in jeans and a collarless blue knit shirt, waved back with a broad smile. But when Rob crept the Jeep to the other side, it must have registered that the tone and gestures weren’t of a happy nature. The man swiftly hopped across the rocks, then scrambled up the embankment, apprehension evident in his features.

“Your mutt got into something again,” Rob explained as the man came up to his door. “We’re taking him to a vet. You comin’?”

The man’s questioning gaze swept to Elmo. Then to her.

Say no. Please, please, please?

She wanted to ride to town with Rob.

Alone.

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