Chapter 7

Tag started to calm as he heard Opal pray for his corgi. She never panicked over anything, and to hear such goodness twinged with that hint of desperation in her voice somehow slowed him down.

He put a blanket on the floor next to Boots, and he opened the first aid kit he'd pulled from the wall. "I'm gonna turn up the heat," he said, and he darted over to the panel next to the door to do that. Max, Gerty's German shepherd, whined from his position next to the door. Then he barked, startling Tag and accelerating his heartbeat again.

Without Max, Tag was certain he'd have not found Boots in time, and he reached down to pat the dog before he turned to go back to his pup.

He hadn't taken two steps back to Boots when the door crashed open behind him. "Okay," Opal said, striding past him. "He is not going to die tonight. Not on my watch." She went straight to Boots and set down the kit in her hand.

"Yes, I see what happened." She dug into the kit while Tag went to join her on the cement.

The cold, hard surface bit at his knees, and he reached to stabilize Boots as Max joined them and practically lay on top of him. "Max," he chastised.

"It's okay," Opal said. "His body heat will help." She lifted a syringe, and Tag dang near passed out.

His vision blurred around the edges, and he forced himself to look away as Opal gave his dog some, "Pain-killers is all." She nodded to the first aid kit. "Get out the biggest gauze pad you can find. And I'm going to need something to clean away some of this blood." She spoke in a clear, even voice, absolutely no panic whatsoever.

Tag fumbled the gauze pads, but he got them out. "I'll get a cloth wet in the sink." He jumped to his feet and ran to do that, going purely on adrenaline at this point. The water came out of the sink ice-cold, but Tag plunged his hands into it anyway.

He wrung the water out of the paper towel and prepped a second one before dashing back to Opal.

"He's breathing better," she said. "Look."

Indeed, Boots wasn't panting in short, horrible gasps anymore, and if his front paw wasn't propped up on part of the blanket where Opal had bunched it, Tag would think he'd just fallen asleep.

"Wet cloth," he said, handing it to Opal.

She took it and started cleaning up the paw. "Hold his head, so he doesn't snap at me."

Tag put his arm across Boots's neck, but the corgi didn't move at all. He'd been outside for at least three hours, and Tag had no clue how long he'd been tangled in the discarded barbed wire just on the other side of the property line.

He started to breathe easier now that there wasn't so much blood, and he had to look away as Opal pulled out what looked like a rudimentary sewing kit for children.

"He just needs a couple of sutures," she said, almost to herself.

"Tell me when you're done," he said, reaching out to comfort himself by putting a hand on Max's side.

"Almost…there…." She held out her hand. "Gauze."

He picked up a pad and slapped it into her palm.

"And tape."

He gave that to her too, and only a few seconds later, she leaned back onto her heels. "Done." She looked over to Tag, who dared to raise his head then. "We should take him to the vet in the morning to get, you know, real canine stitches put in."

Tag met her eye. "We?"

Opal tossed her head slightly, as if trying to absorb his question. "Yes, we. I don't have anything to do, and I can explain my medical choices."

Tag grinned at her, feeling his mouth pull up too far on the right side. "You babysit West in the mornings."

"West loves dogs," Opal said without missing a beat. "He has a carseat, and he won't be any trouble at the vet." She pulled out her phone. "I'm going to call him right now."

"Who?"

"The vet."

"It's midnight, Opal."

"Hmm." She lowered her phone. "I'll call Deac and ask him to call for us when he gets up in the morning." She gave him a knowing look. "I mean, I won't be up early enough to get one of the emergency appointments."

"I can call the vet in the morning." Tag suddenly had to stifle a yawn. "Should I—can I move him to my cabin?"

Opal looked down at the sleeping Boots. "No, he should just stay here. He'll be warm and comfortable, and he's got Max and this blanket."

Tag got up and retrieved another blanket. He met Opal's eye as he returned and dropped back to the ground.

"You're not sleeping out here," she said.

"Yes," he said. "I am." He bunched up the second blanket to use as a pillow and lay down next to Boots. Max whined and put his hand on Tag's shoulder.

"Tag."

"Opal, I am not leaving him out here alone. What if he wakes up and starts tearing at his bandage?" He gave her a side-eyed look and closed his eyes.

She didn't get up and leave immediately, and then she started cleaning up the supplies she'd gotten out. "Okay," she said as she snapped the lid closed on the first aid kit. "I'll be right back with the proper human supplies needed for sleeping in a barn with a couple of dogs."

"I don't need you to do that," Tag said. "You're not supposed to carry anything heavier than a loaf of bread."

"I won't," she promised. She got to her feet and headed for the door.

"Opal," he called, and he lifted his head to look at her. She turned back, waiting. "Thank you."

"Of course." She ducked out into the cold, and Tag let that yawn come out of his mouth. The barn housed a lot of living things, and Tag closed his eyes as he listened to the horses and dogs breathe in and out.

His back ached, and he shifted his feet to try to get the pinch to go away. Then, the cement along his back side started to seep through his clothes, and Tag thought about getting another blanket.

He'd just started to doze when the door opened again. It banged against the wall, startling him. Max too, as the German shepherd jumped to his feet and started barking.

"It's just me," Opal said from somewhere still outside, and the sight of the end of that blow-up purple couch got Tag right back to his feet.

He ran over to help her, and together, they managed to get the couch inside. Opal's cheeks were flushed, whether from wrestling with purple plastic or the cold, Tag wasn't sure. He did know it made her absolutely beautiful, and he quickly closed the door behind her.

"You can sleep on my couch," she said. He moved it over beside Max and Boots, and Opal had picked up the blanket. "Go on." She grinned. "Lay down, and I'll tuck you in."

He did, the couch bouncing with his weight. She covered him with the blanket and then went to turn down the lights in the barn. "There," she said quietly.

"Opal," he said, his mind already halfway back to sleep.

"Yeah?"

"Does he look okay?"

She came back over to the three of them and knelt down next to Boots. "I think he's going to heal up fine, Tag."

"Might have to delay my trip to Coral Canyon," he said, reaching for her hand.

Opal stood, and he tugged her closer.

"Do you think two of us could fit on this couch?" he whispered.

"We can find out."

Tag shifted to lay sideways on the couch, and Opal sat down and then lay with her back pressed to his chest. He covered her with the blanket and looked past her dark hair to his dog. "Thank you, Opal."

He encircled her in his arms, really enjoying the way she fit, and the addition of the sound of her breathing to his life as he finally fell asleep.

Tag woke to the sound of snoring, and he thought he'd finally found a weakness of Opal's. Then he realized it was one of the dogs, and he pushed himself up onto an elbow—which wasn't that easy against the blow-up couch.

It finally held his weight, and he peered over Opal's shoulder. The canines both laid on their sides—Boots hadn't moved at all, which sent a sliver of concern through him—and it was Max making the offensive noises. His back paws twitched as he ran somewhere fun and wild in his sleep, and Tag smiled at them.

Opal groaned then, and he settled back into position against the cushy arm of the couch. She turned right into his chest, and Tag sank down a little further into the squishy air couch-that-was-a-bed.

A dog whimpered, and Tag tensed. "He's okay," Opal murmured. "I just checked on him, and he's not running a fever."

"You just checked on him?"

"Maybe a half-hour ago." She snuggled deeper into his chest. "I gave him some more pain meds, and I checked his bandages. He's not bleeding anymore."

"Mm."

"You snore," she whispered.

"That was Max," he whispered back.

"Sure it was." He could practically see her smile in her voice, and it made him smile.

The next time he woke, it still hadn't started getting light beyond the upper barn windows. But the sun didn't rise until later in the morning in the winter, and Tag's body told him he needed to get up.

That, and his phone buzzed against his thigh. Opal didn't stir even a little bit, and Tag managed to get his device out without disturbing her. Five-fifty, when his alarm usually went off at six.

Good enough for him. He had three texts from Deacon Hammond, the last one saying that the vet had an appointment at nine-ten for Boots. Relief painted through Tag's soul, and he lowered his phone and pressed his eyes closed.

"Thank you, Jesus," he said. He never wanted to go back to the feelings he'd had last night. The pure desperation still coating the very back of his throat, and he couldn't quite swallow all of it away.

Which was silly, really, because Tag had owned several dogs before. The circle of life dictated that they'd die before him, but he didn't want Boots to pass because he'd been stubborn and hadn't listened to God when he'd been told to go find his dog.

Another vibration, and Tag looked at his phone again. From Gerty: How's Boots?

I hope he's okay, and you can obviously take whatever time you need to take him into the vet today.

He's made it through the night, Tag tapped out. Thanks to Opal. She also texted Deacon, and he got me an appointment just after nine.

I'm calling Bryce to postpone our trip to Coral Canyon until next week.

You don't have to do that, Tag said. I can go.

No, we'll just wait a week. I know Boots won't be healed by then, but at least we won't have to leave him with Opal, Max, West, and the whole farm only two days in. It just feels like too much.

Tag knew what else she needed to say, but he'd worked with Gertrude Hammond long enough to know she wouldn't say it. She possessed a mighty stubborn streak, but Tag had a pretty good track record of saying something once and getting her to go along with him.

It was only what she was already thinking anyway and just didn't want to admit.

That'll give you some time to hire another farmhand, he said. We can't take on four more horses, just the two of us, and you need someone here when we get back with those animals.

Gerty started to type, but Tag lowered his phone again. Several seconds later, he lifted his phone again. Believe it or not, I've set up an interview for Thursday.

Oh, yeah? Who is it? Someone we know?

Yes, Gerty said. It's Steele Harris. He's been working with Hunter and Matt for a couple of years now, and I think he might be ready for more responsibility and less management.

Tag read her message quickly, then read it again. You think that or Hunter thinks that? Or Steele's daddy thinks that?

I did get it from Travis, Gerty admitted. Which is why I'm going to interview him. We don't have time to be babysitting here.

No, they did not, and Tag sent her a thumbs-up emoji.

I want you to sit in on the interview, Gerty said. It's here at the farm. Thursday at nine a.m.

I'll be there, Tag said. He tucked his phone away again, and having silenced his alarm, he dozed for several more minutes. Then he had to move his arm as it started to tingle.

Opal moved too, and she sat all the way up, a long groan pulling from her. "It's so early," she said.

"Yes, it is." Tag watched as she got up and stumbled over to the door. She raised the lights and came back to the dogs. "Howdy, Max. Hey, boy."

The German shepherd licked her hand and whined, and Opal got up and went to the sink to wash her hands. Tag sat up and scrubbed his hands through his hair. He wanted a hot breakfast, a hot shower, and the ability to go back to bed.

He didn't think he'd get that until at least tonight, and even then, Tag would need to set an alarm to check on Boots often. One thing at a time, he told himself, just like the pastor had said at church yesterday.

God didn't expect him to know everything at once. He expected Tag to show an interest in learning what He had to teach, and once he'd learned one thing, He'd teach him another. Step by step. Line by line. One by one.

So he just needed to make it through the next hour, and that was breakfast, a shower, and getting the horses fed.

"I haven't seen this hour since I worked the ER," Opal said as she straightened. "It looks really good, Tag. I only put in four stitches, and I think it'll heal up just fine."

"How are his paws?"

"No damage on the pads at all," Opal said. "It's all up about the forearm. Scratches and whatnot that are pretty superficial." She reached for his hand, and he got to his feet as if she'd pulled him there. "You—we—slept in the barn together."

He smiled down at her and slid his free hand along her waist. "Scandalous. We laid on the blow-up couch all night."

"All night?" She scoffed. "Six hours is not all night."

"You've gotten a little...."

"Finish that sentence," she teased. "I dare you."

He chuckled and looked at the mess around them. The couch. The blankets. The first aid kits. The two dogs, both of whom looked at him.

"Hey, Boots." Tag dropped to the ground at the same time as someone opened the barn door behind him. His corgi looked at him with such trust in his eyes, and Tag experienced a ripping slash of guilt. "Hey, buddy. You're okay, aren't you?" He stroked his head, hoping the pup could forgive him.

"Opal," Gerty said with plenty of surprise in her voice. "What are you doing out here?"

"Trying to wake up," Opal said. "Although, I don't know why. I'm going to go back to bed."

"You slept out here?" Gerty said, and Tag looked over his shoulder to her. She put her hand on the back of the purple couch, looked at it, then Opal, and then finally Tag. She didn't have West in a sling attached to her chest or back, which meant Mike hadn't left for the office yet.

"Yes," Tag said. "We couldn't just leave Boots."

"You couldn't just leave him," Gerty said, and she trained her blue-eyed fire on her sister-in-law.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. That was one of the worst nights of my life, and I worked in an ER in Burbank for years. I've had better rest on a cot in a crowded doctor's lounge, for crying out loud."

Tag chuckled, though he sincerely hoped last night wasn't one of the worst nights of her life. He hadn't slept much, no, but holding her in his arms? Tag would gladly do that again.

Boots started to get to his feet, and that drew Tag's attention away from Gerty and Opal. "Hey, buddy, you hurt yourself, okay? Don't put any weight on it."

His little dog didn't, and Tag wanted to pick him up and carry him everywhere until his leg had healed completely. But just because corgis were small didn't mean they were light, and Boots weighed thirty pounds. Not a lot for Tag, but he came in an awkward package, and Tag couldn't carry him all over the farm.

He licked Tag's face, which made him smile though he didn't usually let Boots lick him. "His tongue feels dry."

"Yeah, we should try to get him to eat and drink," Opal said. "And he obviously should be on cage rest until you get a real doctor to tell you how to manage him."

"You're a real doctor, Opal," Tag said as he stood. He bent and picked up Boots. "I'm gonna take him home and get us breakfast, take a shower, all that." He nodded to Gerty. "Nothing happened on the blow-up couch, boss, other than I learned that Opal snores."

"I do not," Opal said, and Tag laughed at the scandalized look on her face. "That was Max."

"And that she tried to blame it on me." Tag nodded to the barn and the couch. "Leave it all, you guys. I'll come back and clean it up when I feed the horses."

"My grandmother is already making cinnamon rolls," Gerty said as he reached the door. "They'll be ready by the time you and Boots are back from the vet. We want you to come by the house and tell us everything."

Tag's heart expanded to make room for these people in his life. They'd taken him in so easily, loved him so readily, made space for him without asking any questions. Mike knew how Tag had bounced from farm to farm, and about the relationship in Green River that had driven him here. He wasn't sure if Gerty did, and of course, Tag had only told Opal the good things so far. Or skimmed over the painful things, at the very least.

"Will there be hot chocolate?" he asked.

Gerty grinned and shook her head as if she couldn't believe he'd ask such a thing. "What do you think?"

"I think there better be," Tag said. "If you want me to give all the details about a vet visit."

"Tag," Opal said. "I want to go to the vet with you. What time is it?"

"Nine-ten," he said, shifting his corgi in his arms. "We have to leave about eight-forty to make that."

"Eight-forty," Opal repeated. "Dear Lord, when will I ever get to sleep again?"

Tag laughed as he left the barn, because he knew there'd be hot chocolate at the farmhouse to go with the cinnamon rolls, and if he knew Carrie at all, she'd also have a big pan of maple sausage links browned up and ready to go. Tag loved sausage the most out of all the breakfast meats, and Carrie would want him to have all of his favorites after a night like last night.

Boots just lay in his arms and let him carry him home. Inside the cabin, Tag put him on the couch and said, "Listen, bud, I'm gonna have to get out your crate, okay? You stay right there, and I'll get breakfast for you. Then you can have another rest while I shower."

His dog just looked at him, and Tag took that to mean, Okay, thanks, Tag. I know you didn't mean to leave me outside for so long, and I'll just wait here for my breakfast.

Tag pressed a fast kiss to Boots's head and then went into the kitchen. He started to fill a bowl with fresh, cold water from the tap, and he wasn't surprised to find Boots hobbling toward him before it reached the top.

He didn't put weight on his front right leg at all, and he hopped around in a pathetic way that tore at Tag's heart. "Here you go." He set the water bowl down and watched as Boots lapped at it eagerly.

While he did that, Tag got his food bowl filled and out, and he went into the back spare bedroom to find the dog crate. If he put Boots in it, he wouldn't be able to trot around the house at all, and that would only help him heal faster.

As he put the crate together, Boots crunched through his food while standing on three legs, and then Tag got him inside and locked the door. "You'll be okay, my friend. I'll be back for you in a couple of hours."

Now, he just had to shower and get as many chores done as he could before he had to leave for the vet. As he scrubbed last night down the drain, Tag leaned his head back and let the hot water run down his face.

Thank you, Jesus, he thought. Thank you for guiding me to my dog. Thank you for Opal Hammond. Thank you for saving Boots.

It sure felt good to be grateful, and after Tag got out of the shower, he took a moment he didn't have to perch on the edge of his bed and write in his journal the things that stood out the most about the past twelve hours.

"There you go, Mama," he whispered. Then he got dressed and got on with his day—after all, he had a lot to do today, and none of it was going to magically get done just because he was tired.

As he reached the barn and entered it, he got a text from Opal. Gerty chewed me out for carrying the couch, but it so doesn't weigh more than a loaf of bread.

Oh, and we need to set up a time for our first Christmas party planning committee meeting. Since Carrie is also on the committee, I was thinking today, while we have a brunch of cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate.

Tag wanted so much more than a party planning committee meeting with Opal. With Boots injured now, he wasn't sure when he could reasonably leave the farm again, but he still let his thumbs type out the very thing flowing through his heart.

Yeah, okay, he said. And I want another date on the calendar too. Before I leave for Coral Canyon.

He didn't wait for her to answer, because he'd already lost so much time today, and he'd lose even more taking Boots to the vet. But he couldn't wait to see Opal again in a more boyfriend-like capacity.