Guess you’ll be making those phone calls to let everyone know you’re here after all. She headed over and spent the next couple minutes answering a slew of questions. With her red hair—hair that had been even brighter red when she was a kid—and freckles, Olivia had gotten used to people remembering her. The fact that her grandpa was a second-generation farmer who’d grown up in the Missouri Bootheel didn’t help her slide into anonymity either.

Nor did breaking up with a Jones three weeks before the wedding. The Joneses were local legends, mostly because they’d been farming in the Bootheel since just after the Civil War and were one of the few families around here who’d held onto their land through the Great Depression.

As much as she didn’t like to think about it, she wouldn’t be surprised if people hung onto their belief in her poor judgment for another few decades.

“Trevor know you’re in town?” the man asked, driving her suspicion home. He was tossing the forty-pound bags of shavings into the truck bed like they were filled with fluff. The driver wasn’t stepping out into the rain, and Olivia hoped the woman stayed put just in case she knew her too.

“I wouldn’t think so.” Olivia ran the length of the leash through her fingers, refusing to say anything else. She shot a glance over at Gabe. He was squatting in front of a crate and talking to one of the two rescue workers.

It honestly didn’t matter if he overheard. Her sister was most likely finishing up with her clients, and she’d be driving down to pick her up. When Gabe was finished with whatever emergency had brought him here, it was doubtful he’d stick around either. And it wasn’t like she’d ever see him again. They’d met three hours from home, and there, they didn’t run in the same circles. He was a vet; she was a teacher.

Her chest tightened into a knot at the thought. Even if she didn’t see him again, he wouldn’t be easy to forget. Neither would his endearing dog.

Samson had won her over with a single look. He was one of those dogs who’d bonded with his human so much that she’d swear he knew how to communicate like one. Even here around the kenneled dogs and cats and the playpen full of goats, he wasn’t on a leash. Instead, he hung close to Gabe, veering off once in a while to sniff something that sparked his interest.

It seemed as if she’d made a friend during their short time together, because Samson left Gabe’s side a couple different times to find Olivia and furtively burrow his head under her hand for a bit of scratching.