Second Chances by Cheyenne Meadows

again.
    She
entered the nearest stall and started cleaning, picking up dirty hay and
manure, then tossing them into the nearby wheelbarrow. Dusty walked by leading
another pair of horses. He didn’t even glance in her direction.
    And, there you go.
    He obviously
reacted on some impulsive instinct and now regretted his actions. As much as
she wanted him to march over and treat her to another sampling of his kissing
abilities, she knew once again she dabbled in a dream. A man who’d been hurt so
badly that Lois, one hundred miles away, would hear about the unfortunate
situation, had to have deep scars and a shield of steel encasing his heart.
    Too bad. If he ever allowed himself to
open up again, the lucky woman would most likely find herself wrapped in a love
so wonderful, she’d dance in happiness for the rest of her days.
    With
the sad thought, she attacked her chore with exuberance.
     

Chapter Seven
    April
sat the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and methodically went about putting
items away. Her mind turned back to Dusty and that glorious kiss, which rocked
her world and put him on the defensive at the same time.
    She’d
gotten up early and drove to the stable, just like every other morning since
her horses arrived. Today, she focused on them while hoping Dusty had put the
temperamental attitude behind him. No such luck. He barely glanced at her when
she entered the stable and didn’t bother to speak a single word. Ben greeted
her warmly, and then returned to Dusty’s side as if needing to be close.
    The one
time she tried to say something Dusty quickly shut her down, led a gelding from
his stall and took him out to the pasture. He acted like a bear with a thorn
stuck in his butt all because of one little kiss.
    A
sinful kiss. Hot, passionate, and the best one she’d ever experienced. Too bad
Dusty didn’t appear to feel the same way.
    He’d
immediately thrown up a solid barrier between them, one she couldn’t break
through or find a way around. His actions only solidified her belief that he
regretted the impromptu action and now preferred to keep her at arm’s distance,
lest she get the wrong idea. No problem there. She’d figured that out
immediately afterward. The resulting sting of rejection served as a vivid
reminder not to get too close or expect anything more along the lines of
intimacy from the stubborn man.
    Completely
frustrated she threw in the towel, April cared for her horses, settled them in
the pasture for the day, and left. No sense standing around when her mere
presence irritated the guy. Besides, errands and shopping were on her day’s
agenda.
    She
opened the fridge and unloaded the rest of the goods. The plastic sacks were
added to a small collection. Taking her bottle of soda with her, April walked
into the small living room next to the kitchen, sat down on the couch, and
opened her laptop computer.
    Ben—she’d
noticed his devotion and love for Dusty, his graying muzzle indicating advanced
age, and his sometimes stiff movements. The war dog, as amazing and smart as he
is, was slowing down. How much longer he had was anyone’s guess, but his years
were numbered. Sad. Very sad to her, but how would the loss of Ben impact
Dusty?
    April
blew out a worried breath.
    Sure,
she’d heard about post traumatic stress—a common occurrence with soldiers and
others who have been through a horrible experience. Dogs helped, especially the
soldiers, and steps had been made lately to unite war veterans with canines in
order to help with their symptoms. Successfully at that.
    So,
what did that mean for Dusty?
    Taking
a chance, April typed words into the search engine and hit the Go button.
Several entries popped up. One appeared more official than the others. She
chose it, opened the page, and started reading.
    Ten
minutes later, she sat back and pondered what she’d learned. The military did
adopt out their dogs for various reasons. Some of the puppies didn’t have
enough drive to make them good