“Jinx!”
“Hannah, get back inside,” Cooper ordered, his voice loud enough that it caused her to jolt. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her to the street. Now, using his most commanding voice, he became an unwanted presence.
“I’m going to find him,” Hannah insisted, putting her head down. “You should go back inside. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Absolutely not.” Cooper vehemently shook his head. “You can’t go out in this.”
“I have to.” It wasn’t a choice for Hannah. “Jinx is out here.”
He paused at the simple words, resignation washing over him. She wouldn’t leave the dog to fend for himself. She once told him that Jinx was the only thing she had to hold onto when her previous life fell apart. She loved the goofy fur monster with her whole heart, and she would never abandon him … even for the limited duration of a storm.
He made up his mind on the spot. “I’ll look for him.” It wasn’t a sacrifice. Not really. Even though Jinx had decided Cooper was the enemy these days, that didn’t mean he wasn’t fond of the dog. “You go back inside. As soon as I have him, I’ll bring him to you.”
“No.” Rain ran down Hannah’s face in a torrent, mixing with her tears. “He might not come to you. If he hears your voice, he won’t necessarily respond. If he hears me, though, he’ll have no choice.”
Cooper wanted to argue with the statement — the idea of her running around during a dangerous storm filled him with dread — but he knew better. “Then we’ll go together. Just ... wait one second.”
Hannah, belligerent, shook her head. “You wait. I’m going.”
“I just want to tell Boone where we’ll be.”
“Go ahead. Nobody is stopping you. I’m going after Jinx right now.”
“Hannah.” Cooper was exasperated, but it didn’t matter. She was already moving. He growled under his breath and then headed inside the saloon, dragging a hand through his bedraggled hair as he met Boone’s concerned gaze. “I’m helping Hannah find Jinx. You guys should stay here.”
“I’ll help, too,” Boone automatically offered.
“No, that’s not necessary.” Cooper cast a sidelong look toward Lindsey. “I don’t think she should be left alone.”
The weight of Cooper’s words hit Boone hard. “Oh.”
“Just in case,” Cooper reassured him quickly. “Angel was alone during a storm. This doesn’t feel like the same thing but ... you never know.”
“Right.” Even though he knew it was a good idea to remain behind, Boone was uneasy. “Maybe we should all go out together. If there are four of us, we’ll find Jinx faster.”
“I don’t see a need for everybody to get wet,” Cooper countered. “You guys stay here, eat your dinner. Hopefully this won’t take too long. Jinx will probably run to Hannah the second he hears her voice.”
The sound of pronounced footsteps caught Boone’s attention before he could respond, and when he turned to the door — hoping against hope to find Hannah returning with the mischievous dog — he found a horse standing in the opening instead. “What the ....?”
Cooper’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. “Is that Honey?”
“The horse is named Honey?” Lindsey brightened considerably. “That’s so cute. Can he stay inside? I think he’s afraid of the storm.”
“He can’t stay inside.” Cooper was firm. “He’ll crap on the floor, and unless you want to clean it up, he’s going back to the paddock. Although ....” He trailed off, considering.
“How did he get out of the paddock in the first place?” Boone finished for him.
“Crap.” Cooper grabbed Honey’s bridle and gave the horse a nudge to get her to backup. “Come on. I’ll take you back home. We’ll get you in the barn.”
It took some maneuvering — both Cooper and Boone working together — but they finally managed to get Honey onto the street ... where they found absolute bedlam waiting for them.
“No way.” Cooper was horrified when he registered the baby goats racing up and down the muddy expanse. He’d lost count of how many Tyler had these days, but it appeared all of them were having a grand time taking on Main Street. “Son of a .... !”
Any and all thoughts of taking shelter inside with Lindsey fled for Boone and he motioned for the teenager to join them rather than retreat inside. “Come on. You need to help us round them up.”
Lindsey didn’t look keen at the prospect. “I would rather stay inside.”
“I don’t care what you want. You’re sticking with me.”
“But my dinner is in there.”
“And we can heat it up when we’re done.”
“I don’t want to get my hair wet.”
“It will dry.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like storms. They make me nervous.”
“Don’t give me that crap. This is all about your hair. I don’t care if your hair looks stupid. We have to get these animals back in the barn. Do you want them to wander away and get lost?”
Lindsey shrugged. “I don’t know. Won’t they eventually come back on their own?”
“Not if they can’t find their way back.”
“Yeah, but ... they’re just goats. Aren’t goats really easy to replace?”
Boone’s temper, which he’d barely been holding in check, surfaced with a vengeance. “Get out here right now!”
His tone told Lindsey everything she needed to know. He wasn’t messing around. “Okay.” She swallowed hard and emerged into the rain, her lower lip protruding as she crossed to the two men. “What do you want me to do?”
“Wrangle the goats,” Boone gritted out. “When you get one, take it to the paddock. Don’t leave Main Street. Stay in my sight at all times. If one of the goats escapes and hides between the buildings, tell me and we’ll get it together. Do you understand?”
“I’m not stupid. I’ve got it.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid.”
“You’re talking to me like I’m stupid,” the teenager groused.
Boone shook his head and focused on Cooper. “That little girl you’re picturing, the one that looks like a miniature version of Hannah, just remember that she’ll grow up to
