Page 37 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)

CHICKEN NUGGIES

My tires are kicking up dust on the sunbaked road, and Beyoncé plays over the speakers.

The land around me is in full bloom, all that pale-green grass having turned lush, patches of wildflowers dancing in the wind along the edges of the road, mostly blue bonnets.

They’re Lola’s favorite, but I can see a few splashes of orange, red, and yellow too.

I ease the truck around a curve, and the road opens for a minute, giving me a good view of the horizon.

There’s something about this land that’s hard to explain.

You’d think it’s just dirt and grass, but the more time you spend on it, the more you feel like it’s got a pulse of its own.

It’s just waiting for you to pay attention before allowing you to discover all the hidden gems.

I keep driving, the wind in my hair and the hum of the engine under my seat, feeling the pull of the place I’ve always known.

This land, this road, it’s more than just a way from here to there.

It’s home. That word acts as a reminder that I should check in on the person who makes me feel most at home, no matter where we are.

“Ari, call ‘My Wife.’”

The music stops, and I’m met with her robotic answer. “Calling ‘My Wife.’”

The line rings a couple of times before she answers. “Hey, Ry. You finished dropping off the feed and fertilizer?” she asks, sounding a bit out of breath.

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m just calling to see if you wanted anything before I got home. I’m a few minutes out,” I tell her.

There’s more heavy breathing across the line, a crash, and then she mumbles something in Spanish I don’t quite catch. “Everything okay, Lols?”

“Sorry! Yeah, now that the kid can walk, she’s a little menace.” She blows out a breath, and her voice sounds closer to the speaker. “What were you asking again?”

I chuckle, a smile tugging at my lips at the mental image she’s painting for me. “You’re watching my favorite kid without me ?”

She releases a small laugh, the sound light and airy over the phone.

“Mayte works so hard all the time, and it can’t be easy being a single parent, so I kidnapped our niece and paid for Mayte to get a massage and pedicure,” she explains, and my whole body squeezes like I’m being hugged, pride overflowing inside me.

Isabela isn’t technically our niece, but it feels good to hear her call her ours, and even better to know she’s making sure Mayte takes care of herself.

I’m overwhelmed with how thoughtful she is.

Lola will be an amazing mom someday, and I hope she keeps me around to see it.

“That’s so sweet, darlin’. Next time, I’ll watch her and send you both out for a spa day so you can spend some extra time together. ”

“That’d be nice, Ry,” she says, and I can picture her smile without seeing it. It blinds me from here.

“Do you want anything before I get home?” I ask again.

“Oh, uh, how about chicken nuggets? I kind of have a craving for them, and Isabela might actually eat those.”

“Nuggets, comin’ right up. I’ll be home soon. ”

“See you soon, Ry,” she says, and the line goes quiet.

I make a U-turn, traveling down the road another minute.

A tiny tan blob that looks suspiciously like a chicken nugget sprints along the side of the road; it’s so fast, it seems to be keeping up with my truck.

I must be hallucinating, or maybe I have an unknown nugget craving myself.

I slow to a stop, squinting to get a better look at the tiny thing.

A tannish-orange and white ball of fluff stops alongside the road, panting, its tongue hanging all the way out of its mouth, and it’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.

I check the road for any oncoming traffic, and when I see none, I toss my door open and sprint around to the front of the truck. “Hey there, little buddy. Are you lost?”

He tilts his head, sucking his tongue back in his mouth as his butt wiggles. Yes, his butt, because evidently, corgis don’t have much of a tail. “Do you wanna go home with me until we can find your parents?”

He runs past me, and before I can make a sprint for him, I see him jump into the passenger seat through my open door.

I get buckled in, rolling down his window for him, but I decide better of that when I realize he’s so small, he might fly right out.

With a tentative hand, I reach out, and when he doesn’t back away, I scratch behind his ears and feel around for a collar, finding nothing.

“Don’t worry, little guy. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to meet Dr. Becerra at the vet clinic, and she’ll scan for a microchip.

We’ll get you home soon,” I say, patting the top of his head and pulling onto the road, making my way to Lola’s favorite fast-food restaurant.

The rest of the drive passes in a blur of waiting in line for Lola’s order, fighting the urge to call her back and tell her about our new friend, and feeding the little dog a few fries.

He gazes out the passenger window, his tiny nub of a tail wagging, long pink tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as we pull through the gates of Rosa Ranch.

“This is your new home, at least for the night. Do you think you could be happy here?” I ask him, my heart thumping violently in my chest at the two high-pitched yaps he barks out in agreement.

The little fluff ball scoots across the seat, nuzzling his long snout under my arm as I park in my usual spot to the left of our cottage-style home.

The lack of another car makes me think I should broach the question of whether Lola wants to learn to drive, and if she does, maybe she’ll let me teach her.

I know years of living in the city were her excuse for never bothering to get her license, but I can’t help but think her ex might have fed into her fears.

I know as well as she does how suffocating it can be to have free will, two working legs, and someone to come home to each night and still feel completely, utterly alone.

After a quick potty break in the yard, the little guy follows me up the porch. The way he sticks by my side makes me think he has a family looking for him somewhere, and as much as I’d love to welcome him home permanently, I wouldn’t keep him from the people who love him.

I crack the front door open and stick my head in. “Hey, darlin’. I’ve got something for you,” I holler inside.

“Oh my gosh, you’re a saint!” she says, grabbing the brown paper bag from my hands and clutching it to her chest. She leans forward, pecking me on the cheek and turning toward the kitchen.

“Lols, there’s something else,” I say, and she twists around, cocking her head to the side.

“Did you get ice cream too?” she asks, her eyes glittering.

I take a step back, making a mental note to run out for ice cream before bed, and open the door wide. The little dog sprints inside, jumping up her legs.

Her eyes light up as she bends forward, picking him up with zero hesitation. “Oh my goodness, hello,” she says, kissing his head as he shimmies in her arms.

“I’d like you to meet Nugget,” I tell her.

“Nugget? I asked you to get me chicken nuggets, and you came home with a corgi named Nugget?” she asks in disbelief.

“To be fair, I also brought the chicken nuggets. I don’t really know his name, but that’s what I’m calling him since he looks like a chicken nugget.”

“You don’t know his name?” she asks, her dark brows pinching together.

“I found him running along the road. He’s got no collar, but I’ll take him to scan for his chip in the morning. For now, we’ll just make sure Nugget has a good dinner.”

Lola smiles and steps forward, cupping my cheek. “You’re a good man, Ryder Lockhart.”

My cheeks heat, and I’m reminded of the many impure thoughts I’ve had about Lola since the day she stepped foot on Rosa Ranch. I most certainly do not feel like a good man, not by a long shot, but I won’t tell her that.

I clear my throat. “Ready for dinner?”