“Oh, yes,” she whispered. They drew close again, her arms around his neck. “You know I always wanted you, back then,” she said. “I was jealous of Reba because you loved her. Even though—or maybe because—she was my best friend.”

“I see that now. I also see how stupid I was,” he muttered.

“Never mind. Different place, different time. Different me.”

“Well, yes and no,” he said with a smile. “Now, should we have a glass of wine, relax in bed?”

“I’d like that.” So he ordered wine from room service, and they made themselves “decent,” then settled with a glass each. She’d expected to do some reading, but he turned on the TV and she found herself caught up in one episode and then another of a British mystery series.

They cuddled together, holding each other tightly—and it was more about reassurance, about comfort, than sex.

But the next morning…

J.P. FELT HE and Carly had put off their meeting long enough. He knew Cord and company had already had theirs and Eli would soon.

His initial thought had been to leave the planning of their session to her, but now he didn’t want to wait any longer, wanted to set it in motion.

He’d received Trooper from a women’s minimum security prison about two hours away in the town of Elm Ridge. He was almost certain Carly would be willing to accompany him there. And with Cord and Shallie away until this afternoon, as he’d learned from Mitch, today would be an opportune time.

He drove to the ranch house and let Trooper out, following him to the porch, where Carly was sitting with Bandit and Smoky. She was listening to something on her cell, some podcast or other.

“Hello there, Carly,” J.P. called loudly, and she finally looked up.

“Trooper, hi! Come on over!” Pause. “Oh, hi, J.P.”

He chuckled at that. Spending too much time with Brynne?

He watched her entertain all three dogs, then said, “I have a suggestion if you’re interested. I’m going to visit Trooper’s training facility, and I thought you might like to join me. We can stop for lunch on the way back…and talk.”

Carly frowned at him, as if she knew exactly what he meant by “talk.” Finally, she nodded. “I’d love to see where he was trained. Is it far from here?”

“A couple of hours. It’s at the Elm Ridge Women’s Prison. They have various dog-training programs there for inmates. They train service dogs, like Trooper, therapy dogs, Seeing Eye dogs, search and rescue dogs. It’s a huge success for everyone involved. It really helps the inmates with rehabilitation, helps the animals, most of whom are rescues and, of course, the new owners, like me. Or like I used to be.”

“Wow! And this is all done by…prisoners?”