Help Wanted: WIFE (Santa Rita Series) by Fleeta Cunningham Page A

off!”
    “Reb! I said down!”
    Cherilyn felt the paws drop from her shoulders to her lap, felt the blunt nails cut into the sheer fabric of her best dress, and finally felt the huge, squirming mass move away.
    “Sorry, but Reb doesn’t much like it if he gets left in the truck bed. He just has to see what’s going on.”
    “Your…dog?” Cherilyn wasn’t certain. The animal was bigger than any dog she’d ever seen.
    “Yes, ma’am, best cow dog in the county, bar none. He’s part of the reason I’m late. Got all ready to come here and get you, and durned if the big lummox wasn’t missing. Reb won’t go off without a reason, so I went looking for him. Figgered it was coyotes, or some kind of varmint in the corral or over by the barn. Didn’t see him, so I finally had to take the truck out and hunt him down. Found him, smart boy that he is, over near a fence line. Danged if one of my best calves hadn’t got hisself caught under the fence wire. His mama was bellering, Reb was yelping, and between ’em they were making enough racket to raise the dead. Spent a good two hours crawling through fence wire myself to get the little feller out. He’d a broke his neck or stayed stuck till he died, if Reb hadn’t found him.”
    “I see.” Cherilyn did see, because Cole, for the first time, had moved into the light cast by the pickup’s headlights. His white shirt, streaked with grime, sported a three-cornered tear. The sleeves, rolled to the elbows, had burrs still clinging to one cuff. And his bolo tie flopped in a loose coil from a shirt pocket. None of those details took away from his lean, rugged face or the shock of fair hair he brushed back with an impatient swipe.
    Reb suddenly made a curious step toward the two suitcases and Arabella’s carrier. Cherilyn reached out to distract him. Arabella, in spite of her placid nature, wouldn’t react well to the scent of wet dog and a muddy muzzle pressed to her carrier. “Come here, Reb. Come over here and let’s shake hands properly. You look like a pretty good friend to have.”
    “Here, Reb. Leave things alone.” Cole called and the dog lumbered back. “Cherry, it’s kinda late, and maybe we should get moving. I think the rain’s let up a tad.” He paused a minute. “It’s mighty brave of you to come out here all by yourself to take a look at what we’ve got.” He rocked back on his boots and waved an encompassing hand at the wet landscape. “It’s a good life, not always easy, but a good one. I know most women want courting and flowers and pretty words. They want to hear about June moons and love and so forth. But I do believe that if two people make up their minds to treat each other decent, pay their bills, and find a little fun along the way, that’s a pretty good framework for a marriage. Probably stands a better chance in this world anyway than some of the lovey-dovey nonsense shoveled out by the movies. I’m as sure of that as I am the sun’s gonna rise in the east come morning. Your letters, they sorta tell me you take a practical view of things, as well.”
    “From what I’ve seen,” Cherilyn replied, “life is often hard, but people do better when they have a partner working with them. I’m practical, as you say, but I believe every living creature needs affection and care. I think men and women learn that as life goes along. Sometimes they even learn it from unexpected places, like the movies.”
    “Well, I can’t say I ever got that from a movie, but you being a schoolteacher, I bet you find lessons where the rest of us just don’t see them.” He gathered up her suitcases, one under his arm and the other in his hand. “Let’s head on to the ranch.” He started to reach for the wired box on the other bench.
    “Oh, I’ll take that one.”
    “That’s a funny-looking case. What is it?”
    “My cat.” Cherilyn lifted the case with both hands and turned toward the truck.
    “Your cat? Lord, woman, we’ve got cats at the