scheme to start a llama ranch. Llamas.
She had to admit, she was still surprised that he hadn’t brought in a bunch of people to make this place more habitable yet. It was still old, dusty, and creaky, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
He had papers and books all over the old, filmy kitchen table. A laptop sat in the middle of it, all shiny and expensive and way nicer than her and Caleb’s shared desktop that whirred and offered the blue screen of death more often than actually booting up.
“Where did you get all this?”
“Library.”
“The library closes at four. We work until after five every day. How did you—”
“I emailed, um, what’s her name, Jenny? She had someone drop off a bunch of stuff for me last night. I got my Internet set up too, though it’s so damn slow I want to throw my laptop out of the window half the time.”
“And you…”
He picked up a stack of stapled-together papers, and waved them at her. “Examples. Of other llama ranches.”
She took the outstretched papers and began to flip through them. Printouts of llama ranch websites. She knew next to nothing about it, but other than the type of care the animals got, the setup couldn’t be all that different from her cattle.
What was left of their herd anyway.
“This guy has a mullet,” she said, knowing it was unkind and beside the point.
“So?”
She flipped to another stapled-together packet. “ This site says llamas are addictive.”
“Okay, it’s a little strange, but still. It’s not dependent on cattle prices, or a “horse having the right kind of baby” thing. Llama yarn is llama yarn. Pack animals are pack animals. It’s a low-risk investment.”
Oh, God, he was making sense ? That was cruel and unusual. How could she argue with him when he was making sense, making his own plans, thinking things through? The fact was, no matter how crazy the idea, she couldn’t. She could not argue with sense and someone else making a decision on their own.
“It also gives me room to do a lot of things if these tryouts my agent is working on come through. There are a couple of resorts around here—I can rent the llamas out for pack animals for hikes in the mountains. Which gives me the income that could offset needing to hire someone to handle ranch stuff when I’m not here.”
When I’m not here. So much for wanting the ranch to be his heart and crap like that. He was already planning on not being here, already planning on going back to hockey.
It was not a shock—she’d known that all along—but something deeply uncomfortable lodged itself in her chest at the thought of him not being around.
Which wouldn’t do. Not at all. “All right. Then, let’s make a plan of what we need to do to get you ready for a llama invasion.”
He grinned, and she looked away. She would not get sucked into that grin.
“Llama invasion. Also an excellent band name.”
“Unless you’re ready to move on to making emo punk music, let’s focus on what kind of buildings you’ll need. Any of your books tell you that?”
He pawed around on the desk. “Here we go, captain. Lead the way.”
She sighed. Leading was getting damn exhausting.
* * *
Dan loaded the last bundle of lumber into the back of Mel’s truck. After drawing up plans and to-do lists all day yesterday, he’d finally convinced her they could actually start on a project—repairing and expanding the fence around the enclosure his current llama was already in.
He grinned. Couldn’t help it. This doing something—like an actual something with a goal in place, and a plan in mind—was…almost as good as being on the ice again. He felt invigorated, ready to take on the world.
Or maybe just one of Georgia’s bacon cheeseburgers. “Lunch at Georgia’s?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Thought you were determined to do your protein-shake crap this week.”
Right. Staying in shape for possible tryouts. But he glanced down the street toward Georgia’s little
She had to admit, she was still surprised that he hadn’t brought in a bunch of people to make this place more habitable yet. It was still old, dusty, and creaky, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
He had papers and books all over the old, filmy kitchen table. A laptop sat in the middle of it, all shiny and expensive and way nicer than her and Caleb’s shared desktop that whirred and offered the blue screen of death more often than actually booting up.
“Where did you get all this?”
“Library.”
“The library closes at four. We work until after five every day. How did you—”
“I emailed, um, what’s her name, Jenny? She had someone drop off a bunch of stuff for me last night. I got my Internet set up too, though it’s so damn slow I want to throw my laptop out of the window half the time.”
“And you…”
He picked up a stack of stapled-together papers, and waved them at her. “Examples. Of other llama ranches.”
She took the outstretched papers and began to flip through them. Printouts of llama ranch websites. She knew next to nothing about it, but other than the type of care the animals got, the setup couldn’t be all that different from her cattle.
What was left of their herd anyway.
“This guy has a mullet,” she said, knowing it was unkind and beside the point.
“So?”
She flipped to another stapled-together packet. “ This site says llamas are addictive.”
“Okay, it’s a little strange, but still. It’s not dependent on cattle prices, or a “horse having the right kind of baby” thing. Llama yarn is llama yarn. Pack animals are pack animals. It’s a low-risk investment.”
Oh, God, he was making sense ? That was cruel and unusual. How could she argue with him when he was making sense, making his own plans, thinking things through? The fact was, no matter how crazy the idea, she couldn’t. She could not argue with sense and someone else making a decision on their own.
“It also gives me room to do a lot of things if these tryouts my agent is working on come through. There are a couple of resorts around here—I can rent the llamas out for pack animals for hikes in the mountains. Which gives me the income that could offset needing to hire someone to handle ranch stuff when I’m not here.”
When I’m not here. So much for wanting the ranch to be his heart and crap like that. He was already planning on not being here, already planning on going back to hockey.
It was not a shock—she’d known that all along—but something deeply uncomfortable lodged itself in her chest at the thought of him not being around.
Which wouldn’t do. Not at all. “All right. Then, let’s make a plan of what we need to do to get you ready for a llama invasion.”
He grinned, and she looked away. She would not get sucked into that grin.
“Llama invasion. Also an excellent band name.”
“Unless you’re ready to move on to making emo punk music, let’s focus on what kind of buildings you’ll need. Any of your books tell you that?”
He pawed around on the desk. “Here we go, captain. Lead the way.”
She sighed. Leading was getting damn exhausting.
* * *
Dan loaded the last bundle of lumber into the back of Mel’s truck. After drawing up plans and to-do lists all day yesterday, he’d finally convinced her they could actually start on a project—repairing and expanding the fence around the enclosure his current llama was already in.
He grinned. Couldn’t help it. This doing something—like an actual something with a goal in place, and a plan in mind—was…almost as good as being on the ice again. He felt invigorated, ready to take on the world.
Or maybe just one of Georgia’s bacon cheeseburgers. “Lunch at Georgia’s?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Thought you were determined to do your protein-shake crap this week.”
Right. Staying in shape for possible tryouts. But he glanced down the street toward Georgia’s little
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