Page 1

CHAPTER ONE

“This is why the lawyer cheated on me with her assistant.”

“Katherine is a poor excuse for a butch who submitted to becoming a patriarchal cliché. That’s not your fault,” Rosie said between over-dramatic chest heaves.

Lori frowned and gave her best friend the look. “You know I love how much you hate her on my behalf, but you also know that we don’t say her name out loud.”

“Are you worried that if I say it three times, she’ll poof here out of thin air?”

Lori huffed and prodded the pile of excrement a little more fervently. The pungent odor that rose up in response to her agitating it got her thinking that she should bag some up and smear it on the windshield of the lawyer’s prize Porsche. “No, I don’t. She’s not Lucifer, though she did a damn good job of impersonating him in those last few weeks. It just helps me keep emotional distance if I just call her the lawyer. You know that too. Why are you being so obstreperous?”

“Ooh, stealing that for my word of the week,” Rosie said then rattled the tripod in her left hand. “Because I came to help you shoot a new video. I didn’t come here to watch you play with poop. It’s gross.”

Lori didn’t feel the need to point out that Rosie had practically wrestled the tripod from her hand and insisted on tagging along after they’d had lunch. She assumed Rosie was working up to something she wanted to talk about. A favor, maybe. Whatever it was, it must be pretty big for her to traipse out in the mud, risking her white sandals. “I’m going to have to call the vet. One of the horses must have a gut infection.”

“Then we should definitely get this video done before it gets dark. You’ll need some more donations to cover their fees.”

Lori tossed the stick to the ground and sighed heavily. “You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

Lori rolled her eyes and pointed toward the kennels. “I want to do a video with Max. The fireworks freaked him out, even with the special ear defenders.”

Rosie started toward the large building. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I need to get away from this stench before it infiltrates my clothes, and I have no choice but to burn them.”

Lori shook her head and followed. “Maybe you shouldn’t always come here in such fancy threads. I can loan you something from my wardrobe.”

Rosie flicked her gaze over Lori’s outfit of tank top, jeans, and work boots and looked vaguely mortified. “You do somehow manage to look adorable in your thrift-store ensemble, but I need all the help I can get.”

Lori hooked her arm through Rosie’s and tugged her close as they walked. Rosie didn’t often let her dirt-poor upbringing vulnerabilities show, but Lori’s heart ached for her when she did. “I call BS. You’d look amazing in a trash bag tied at the waist with twine.”

“I hear that’s the latest fashion in Milan.” She winked and nudged her shoulder to Lori’s.

“I can’t wait to see you pull it off.”

Rosie laughed, her sadness apparently gone as quickly as it had surfaced, and Lori pulled her toward the increasingly deafening sound of barking dogs, already alerted to their approach.

Lori headed toward the rear of the building where the individual outdoor runs extended fifty feet from each in-house sleeping area. Max was at the end of the building, as far away from the main entrance of the farm as he could be. His hearing seemed even more finely attuned than the average dog, and he reacted badly to any and all noises, which was no surprise given what he’d gone through.

She’d had him for over six months now, and he’d been doing well, improving steadily after the two months it had taken her to get close enough to put a leash on him for a walk. But the Fourth of July celebrations a few days ago seemed to have set him back, and he’d regressed to spending most of his time cowering in the corner of his sleeping area. Seeing a magnificent Belgian Malinois act that way was heartbreaking, but she wasn’t about to give up on him. It didn’t matter what some of the trolls on her TikTok said, Max deserved a chance to live a happy life after what he’d done for his country, and she would do her damnedest to make it happen.

“I saw that Toni did a duet with your last video of Max,” Rosie said, flicking her bangs from her forehead with a flourish. “That was sweet of her…”

“You’re so subtle.” Lori chuckled. “But you should douse your torch for Toni in my duck pond. She’s still all loved-up with her British soldier.”

“The language barrier’s bound to kick in soon enough.” Rosie extended her hand and inspected her nails. “I’ll bet soldier-girl will realize she’s out of her league eventually, and Toni can run into my arms for comfort and understanding.”

“Except the soldier-girl is exactly Toni’s type, and you’re exactly not her type.”

“I could be… Maybe. I’d draw the line at power tools—I’d hate to break a nail—but I could butch it up.”

Rosie tensed her arm, but Lori didn’t see any discernible difference in bulk. She poked Rosie’s skinny excuse for a bicep and raised her eyebrows. “It’s that easy, is it?”

Rosie nodded. “I just need to add a little plaid flannel to my wardrobe, buy a ball cap, and constantly tie my lovely locks up in a ponytail. Easy peasy.”

“Wow. If you do all that, I might not be able to control myself around you.”

Rosie swatted her shoulder. “You’d take more convincing, I’m sure. And I’m not cutting my hair for anyone. Even you.” She flicked her hair dramatically again. “There was a time when I might’ve considered it, but I’m no longer a foolish girl-child, and I’ve grown accustomed to you as a best friend. I don’t have time to audition anyone else for the job.”