Julie Miller
________________________
PROTECTING THE PACK
Protectors at K-9 Ranch #4
Copyright ©2025 by Julie Miller
Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Enterprises
Excerpt
Saving their found family...
Stella Smith had no business climbing the ladder in the barn at K-9 Ranch.
She was forty-eight and a half years old. And yes, she included the half. Unlike when she’d been a child and had wanted to appear older, she now added the label to remind herself that she hadn’t hit the infamous forty-nine yet—that her body was as young and content as her heart and brain were most days.
She really had no business climbing up to the loft to retrieve the dog toy her new adoptee, Jasper, had tossed up there. She was certain the big black Newfoundland dog’s strategy in their game of fetch was to keep Stella busy long enough for him to mosey over to the closest stall lined with hay, where the big brute could stretch out for a few minutes and dry off after their training session in the pond with the ranch’s owner, Jessie Caldwell. He’d give her those soft brown eyes and act all innocent as to the trouble he was causing her.
Stella glanced down at the wet black dog, who watched her ascend the ladder from his Sphinx-like position in the hay. “You know, big guy, you’re the one who’s supposed to be fetching, not me. How did you toss it all the way up here, anyway?”
His answer was a big yawn.
Stella smiled and shook her head and climbed up another rung. “You’d better nap now. I’m siccing the kids on you when we get home.”
Not that that was any real threat. Jasper and her foster kids adored each other. If they wanted to run around in the back yard, he’d be right there with them. If they wanted to use him as a big pillow and watch TV together, he’d like that even better.
Jasper was a one-hundred-forty-pound couch potato at heart. Although she’d initially come looking for a small dog to adopt for her kids—to help them learn the responsibility of caring for others and grow closer as a family unit—Jasper had immediately taken a shine to the children. He was both a non-judgmental set of ears to listen, and a gentle caretaker who had proven to have a calming effect on the children when one of them had a particularly trying day.
After several weeks of training on basic behavior skills, they were now focusing on developing his water rescue instincts, since Stella’s home was a lakeshore property. Even with the fenced-in back yard and continued reviews about swimming and boating safety, she was glad to have a dog who not only kept a close eye on the children when they were outside, but also who was also a strong swimmer in case there was an emergency of some kind. Of course, getting Jasper to obey her commands in and out of the water was a matter of exposure and repetition, keeping him interested in the process and keeping him in shape.
That’s why Stella was supposed to be playing with him now after an intense training session with her friend, Jessie Caldwell, who ran K-9 Ranch. The big guy needed his exercise so that he didn’t become overweight. Plus, the activity was good for Stella, too, who had never been able to shed the extra pounds she’d carried on her five-foot-, eight-inch frame since childhood. She was healthy, according to her annual wellness exams, and enjoyed kayaking and swimming in the lake where she lived. But she’d never be skinny. Unless there was beautiful scenery and something fun to do, she wasn’t a big fan of exercise. And frankly, she’d given up trying to fit the image of women portrayed in Hollywood and most magazines. A few centuries ago, her Rubenesque figure would have been on trend. But she knew she didn’t look like what most of the world deemed beautiful nowadays, and she’d accepted that.
She might not have a man in her life, but she’d raised foster children for nearly twenty years now, and stayed in contact with most of them, even after they’d aged out of the system. She lived in a beautiful home nestled beside a beautiful lake on the outskirts of Kansas City , Missouri. She had good friends like Jessie Caldwell, and she woke up happy most days. Stella sighed at the realization. Maybe she and Jasper had more in common than she’d given the dog credit for.
He was the gentlest, most loving, and patient dog Stella had ever met, and both she and her three current foster children had immediately taken to him. Her youngest girl, Ana, who rarely spoke and wasn’t in school yet, treated him like a giant teddy bear, hugging on him and speaking to him in the gibberish language she’d come up with to survive her failure to thrive after months of neglect. Harper, the intelligent fourth grader with big glasses who reminded Stella so much of herself at that age, was obsessed with researching every last tidbit of information she could find about Newfoundland dogs—which led to more research about the island of Newfoundland and Canada, as well as dog training, pet care, German dog commands—which Jasper ignored—as well as all the nutritional components of healthy dog food and the treats the lumbering black dog consumed like candy if given the chance. Her foster son, Colby, was simply thrilled to have another male in the house and was happy to chase or be chased in the back yard or to sit with Jasper and practice his reading skills.
Stella had reached the edge of the loft when her phone rang in the pocket of her jeans. Bracing herself at the top of the ladder, she pulled her cell out and checked the name of the incoming call on her screen and swore under her breath.
The easy thing would be not to answer the unwanted call. Or to block the number. But she’d learned a long time ago that Preston Alan Jeffries III, who went by the cutesy nickname of Trey, was relentless when he wanted something. If she didn’t talk to him now, he’d just keep calling. And if he couldn’t reach her by phone, he’d show up at her house or her family’s charitable trust management group, where she worked part-time, and then she’d have to deal with him in person. Or worse, he’d wheedle an invitation to a public event and approach her where she’d either have to politely play along or risk the pity of public embarrassment again.
Better to get this over with now. Let her true feelings fly. Find out what Trey wanted and move on.
She connected the call and put the phone to her ear. “I’m, busy. What do you want?”
Not the friendliest of greetings. But then, it had been twenty years since she’d considered Selfish McJerkface any kind of friend.
That cultured, polished voice answered. “Stella? Is that you, darling?” Ugh. She hated when he’d dropped endearments into their sporadic conversations over the years—as if he had the right to call her at all. “It’s Trey, dear,” he identified unnecessarily. “I hope you’re well. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor.”
Stella knew she had absolutely no business whatsoever climbing the ladder to the loft while she was on the phone with a man she’d once loved, then hated, and now…well, she could honestly say she would never be fond of Trey Jeffries. Especially if he thought he could worm his way back into her life after humiliating her so thoroughly and painfully the night before their wedding twenty years ago.
Stella didn’t hold a grudge like she once had. And she’d gotten over being heartbroken years ago—once she’d figured out it was her desire to love and be loved—not love itself—that had been crushed all those years ago. But the humiliation, the fear that there might be a grain of truth in any of the cruel things he’d said to her, still stung the lonely little rich girl buried deep inside her. However, she was also a grown woman who’d made a successful life for herself and many others. She didn’t need any emotional grenade like the one she suspected Trey was about to lob at her. “What do you want?” she repeated.
Spotting Jasper’s toy, she leaned over the edge of the loft to grab the hard rubber ball by its attached rope.
Trey nattered on in her ear. “Come on, Stella. We’ve been business associates and have run in the same social circles for a number of years. We can at least be civil to each other.”
Um, no. He’d been a business associate of her father’s. Made a point to woo the boss’s daughter and tie her to him so they’d both inherit Robert Smith’s real estate and investment empire. They’d never worked together except to appear at charity functions. And he no longer worked for her father’s company at all, not since she’d inherited everything and converted most of the business into charitable trusts benefiting children, education, and service animal organizations like K-9 Ranch. Plus, her social circles ran more to PTA meetings and play dates for her foster kids than gala fundraisers and debutante balls these days. She certainly had no desire to be civil to a man who only saw her as a bank account.
She tossed the toy down into the hay next to Jasper. The big dog raised his head, sniffed at the KONG, then lay back down. “You’re welcome, you big galoot.” Jasper chuffed a breath out between his heavy jowls and closed his eyes. “I live to serve.”
“What does that mean? You’re willing to help me?”
He’d heard that? Help with what? She needed to nip that miscommunication in the bud since she had no intention of lifting one finger to help her ex-fiancé. “I’m talking to my dog, Trey. Now, tell me exactly why you’re calling or I’m hanging up.”
“I wanted to see if we could have lunch, or if you’d let me take you to dinner. I’m free tonight.”
Stella frowned, even more suspicious of Trey’s intentions. “Why?”
He laughed. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight. Capital Grille on the Plaza?”
Steaming at his relentless assumption that she’d say yes, she took a step back down the ladder. “Tonight doesn’t work for me.” Never was the only time that worked for her when it came to Trey.
“I’m back in town.” He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “And I heard there’s still no man in your life.”
Wow. She’d really been a fool—so desperate for a man to love her, to get away from her parents’ cold, sterile world—to ever think this opportunist was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
“Seriously? I have no desire to reconnect with you. You were a mistake, Trey. I returned your ring. I fired you from the company. I moved on ages ago. I don’t know why you can’t do the same. Besides, there is a man in my life. He has four feet and beautiful black fur and probably outweighs you.”
“Four feet?” He laughed. Stella hated that sound. It was so practiced and false. He’d probably never belly-laughed in his life. “Your new man is a dog? That is so sad.”
She palmed her forehead and silently berated herself. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with enjoying her time with the dog and putting up a wall between her and Trey, she would have picked up on the clues sooner. Back in town? Free? Hinting at her lack of a love life? “Oh, my God. Did another woman dump you?”
“No one dumps me.” The charm bled from his tone as if she’d flipped a switch. That was the tone that had called her a fat cow and a spoiled little rich girl in the foyer of a restaurant where all the waitstaff and family and friends at their rehearsal dinner could overhear. “Francine and I have been legally separated for nearly a year. The divorce was finalized last month. I’m a free man.”
She’d say sorry about the divorce, but she wasn’t in the habit of lying like this man was. “Yeah, well I’m not interested in picking up the slack.”
“Excuse me. I’m looking for Stella Smith?” A deep male voice with a slight Ozark twang called from the open barn doors.
Stella whirled around from her perch on the ladder to see a uniformed police officer walking toward her. “Huh?”
“Are you—?” The compactly built man gripped his utility belt in one hand and held the other up in apology. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were on the ph—”
“Oh!” Startled by the unexpected guest, her balance shifted. The ladder swayed away from the loft, and she threw herself forward to keep from tipping back. Her sneaker slipped off the rung and she was falling. Her arms wind-milled around her head and her phone went flying. Muttering a distinctly unladylike curse, Stella tried to dive toward the cushion of hay rather than the hard-packed dirt in the middle of the barn.
She didn’t hit either one.
A pair of thick, muscular arms slammed around her and spun her. Momentum carried them into the stall of hay a few feet from where Jasper lay, and she sprawled on top of the man. She squeezed her eyes shut against the dizzying aftermath of whatever maneuver he’d used to avoid the concrete-hard dirt and land safely in the hay.
“Oh, my gosh.” She apologized through squinted eyes, hanging on to a pair of sturdy shoulders while her brain and stomach sloshed around inside her. “Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?” he countered, his voice deep with concern. “I hit the soft hay. You had farther to fall.” A warm hand cupped the back of her head, pulling a few strands of hair loose from the messy top-knot she wore. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Stella was aware of something on his belt poking into her hip. His holstered gun? And while the rest of his body branded her with heat, she became aware of the cold, hard void of warmth where their chests smooshed together. Was he wearing a protective vest beneath his uniform?
She opened her eyes to a swirling blur of cool colors, blinking rapidly until her vision cleared and she was looking straight down into her rescuer’s face.
Although it was sprinkled with a dusting of brown stubble flecked with gray, the man had the kind of jawline that gave the word chiseled its definition. The shape of his face was equally angular, perhaps a shade away from being truly handsome. But wow, he had beautiful green eyes. The points of his short, silvering hairline were receding, but that made him seem somehow more masculine to her. Like he was wiser, more confident, fully at ease with his own appearance and the world around him.
“I need you to talk to me,” he ordered gently, lightly probing her scalp. “Did you hit your head or twist an ankle or anything?”
She continued to stare. So, very, very green.
“Stella?” She nodded. “I’m Joe Carpenter. My pal, Garrett, said he and his wife, Jessie, plan to set us up.”
Stella frowned, transfixed by the rich, mossy green of his eyes. “Set us up?”
“Blind date?” He lay flat on his back in the hay, his hands now resting at her waist while she propped her elbows between them and clutched his shoulders. Even horizontal like this, she realized he wasn’t that much taller than she was. And yet, she felt…dwarfed by his dimensions. “Didn’t they mention that to you?”
“Oh, yeah. Garrett has a cop friend. Said they served together back in their Army days.” Right. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t need to state what this man already knew. “That would be you?”
“Guilty as charged. You are Stella Smith?”
She sought out the green eyes again and nodded.
Joe Carpenter shifted beneath her, the muscles of his thighs brushing against her own, making long-ignored parts of her anatomy sit up and take notice. “I’m not a fan of surprises. I just got off shift and drove out to the house. Jessie said you were in here with your dog. I thought I’d break the ice and introduce myself first. Save us an awkward moment later.”
“Right. Because we’re having that awkward moment now.”
He laughed, and she bobbed up and down on his chest and stomach. A belly laugh. An honest-to-goodness belly laugh. I could fall for a man like this.
Wait. She already had. Fallen hard and flattened him at the edge of a barn stall.
Embarrassment warmed her face as she realized she’d been documenting every feature about the man lying beneath her without even properly introducing herself or making sure he hadn’t been injured breaking her fall.
She curled one knee into the hay beneath them and scrambled off him. “Oh. I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She caught her foot on his thigh and she stumbled. He grabbed her hand and pulled her upright as he stood to steady her. “Easy. I thought maybe you were dazed, or you couldn’t move for some other reason.”
Dazed was right. She hadn’t been that up close and personal with a man like that in weeks. Months? Oh, wow. Had it actually been years? And she’d just sprawled her body all over his fit, muscular self as though she had the right to familiarize herself with his brawny arms and thighs and the heat of his skin. She felt a blush warming her cheeks as they faced each other.
He was one, maybe two inches taller than her five-eight height. But she liked being able to look straight into those rich, deep green eyes.
“Stella? Stella?” Trey’s voice shouting from some distant place jarred her from the hazy, hormonal mood she’d been caught in.
She finally released Joe’s steadying hand and looked all around her feet. “Oh, no. My phone.” Sometime while she’d been lying on top of her rescuer, Jasper had pushed to his feet and was nosing around in the hay. When he raised his head, he had her cell phone clutched in his mouth. “You silly boy. Give that to Mommy.”
Joe reached the dog first. “Drop it,” he ordered. He caught the phone when the dog opened his mouth and pushed his head into the rewarding stroke of Joe’s hand. “Good boy.” Joe’s face curled up in an icky expression before he wiped both sides of the phone on his pant leg and handed it to her. But not before reading the name on the screen. “It’s a little slobbery, but…” He frowned. “Trey the Troll?”
“Pet nickname for someone I don’t want to talk to.” Stella snatched the phone and cleaned the dog drool and clinging bits of hay with the hem of the untucked blouse she wore. “Thanks." When she turned away, she put the phone back to her ear. “Are you still there?”
Trey yelled at her. “Who the hell is that guy? I thought you said your new man was a dog. You lied to me. You aren’t even giving me a chance?”
“I can’t talk right now, Trey. Gotta go.” She disconnected the call and turned back to Joe. “Sorry about that.”
The dent of a frown between Joe’s eyebrows never shifted. “Everything okay?”
“Just a blast from the past trying to charm his way back into my life. Ain’t gonna happen.” Her attempt to make light of the call failed when her phone rang again. Again, she dismissed the call and stuck her phone in the back pocket of her jeans.
Gripping the front of his belt on either side of his buckle, Joe rested his elbows on the holster of his gun and another leather box clipped to his uniform belt. “Is that him again? He won’t take no for an answer?”
Why did she feel that was the same stance and serious look he used when he pulled over a driver at a traffic stop or responded to a disturbance at someone’s house?
“It’s all right, officer.” She glanced at the chevrons on his sleeve. “Sergeant.”
“Try Joe.”
“Okay, Joe. Don’t get your boxers in a twist. I’ve been dealing with Preston Alan Jeffries for twenty years. Dumped me the night before our wedding, and every four or five years, he tries to reconcile. Apparently, wife number three just divorced him, too. Or maybe it’s number four. I don’t keep tabs on him the way he does with me.”
“He hasn’t taken no for an answer for twenty years? What’s his hold on you?”
Twenty years without any other long-term relationship? She’d devoted her life to her kids and her charities and her friends and was happy with her choices. But Joe’s probing question made her think. She was uncomfortable to realize that in some ways, she hadn’t moved on. Maybe it was simply an inability to completely trust another man with her heart. Or maybe a tiny part of her still believed the horrible things Trey had said to her that night. That she was unlovable. That he’d been kind to take her to his bed and ask her to be his wife.
Joe’s insight was as discomfiting as it was spot- on. Her ex had lived in her psyche for a long time. She needed to be done with that. She wanted to be.
Lost in her thoughts, her gaze had drifted to the hay beneath her feet and the giant black dog who sat beside her and leaned against her thigh. She stroked her fingers through Jasper’s thick hair. The Newfoundland might not be the most excitable dog, but he was definitely a cuddler. Stella needed a good cuddle right about now.
“Sorry. That’s none of my business.”
Her gaze snapped up at Joe’s deep, almost musical voice. “No. It’s a legit question if you want to know me.” She clutched Jasper’s fur and took a deep breath. “I’m fairly well off, thanks to a generous inheritance and good money management in my own right. That’s what Trey likes best about me. Did Garrett and Jessie tell you I’m… wealthy? I’m one of the biggest benefactors to K-9 Ranch. Do you have a problem with me having money?”
He considered her admission, one that made most men’s eyes light up with opportunity or darken with intimidation. But Joe’s beautiful green gaze remained steadfast. “Are you going to act like you’re better than me or anyone else because of that money?”
She frowned at the insulting scenario. “No.”
“Then no.”
No? Why did that word sound so positive when Joe said it?
She might as well lay out all the issues that had kept men from pursuing a relationship with her in the past. “Do you like kids? Some men don’t. They see them as competition for my time and affection, or a nuisance. I’m a foster parent. I’m proud of the work I do. I love it. There are always two or three kids in my house at any given time.”
He considered her words before nodding. “I’m okay with kids. Don’t have any of my own. I’ve never been married. But I do some teaching at the police academy. I’ve mentored some high-school kids over the years. Some of them seem pretty young to me. Barely in their teens or twenties.”
Stella smiled. “My current charges are much younger than that. Two fourth-graders and one four-year-old.”
“So, apparently we’re listing grievances that have kept a partner from committing to us in the past?” The frown that had marred his angular face finally disappeared. “Do you have a problem with me being a few inches shy of six-feet?”
Some woman had dumped him for being short? The nerve. Could they not see how much man there was here? “You’re taller than me.”
“Not by much.”
“That just means I don’t have to wear high heels when we go out.”
He chuckled. “So, you think we’re going out?”
“Isn’t that the idea of a blind date?”
“It is.” Then the serious expression returned. “Do you have a problem with me being a cop? It’s a dangerous job, sometimes with unpredictable hours. Some people don’t like me just because I wear this badge.”
“I don’t do jerks, abusers, misogynists, or ex-fiancés. Cops and well-built short men aren’t anywhere on my ‘do-not-date’ list.” Stella ticked off the list on her fingers. “Do you want to go out with me sometime?”
When he grinned at her impulsive invitation, she knew she was smitten with the man. “Yes.”
The dogs in their kennels outside the barn raised a ruckus at the sound of the door closing on the Caldwells’ back deck. Even Jasper trotted outside the barn to share the excitement of the ranch’s owner, Jessie Caldwell, striding toward them. A white-muzzled German Shepherd padded along beside her.
With that much of a plan in mind, Stella and Joe exchanged numbers. After he’d clipped his phone back onto his belt, Joe held out his hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you, Stella Smith. Talk to Jessie and Garrett. They’ll vouch for me. I’ll call you soon.” When he pulled away, he pointed to her phone. “You won’t give me a nasty nickname and ignore my calls?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t gone out with you yet.”
Joe laughed and strode away. “Fair enough. Talk to you soon.” At the barn door opening, he stopped to greet Jessie, trading a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Garrett around?”
“In the kitchen. Go on in the back door. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.” With one last smile for Stella, Joe headed up to the house. Jessie curiously watched Joe move past the kennels before she shook her head and hurried over to Stella. “Sorry, I got caught on the phone with Nate’s school. They want to test him for the gifted program.”
Stella could tell her friend seemed unnaturally nervous. “That’s awesome. I can tell he’s a bright kid.”
“This parenting thing is scary sometimes. What if we make the wrong decision? He could feel ostracized from his classmates. Or maybe it’s too soon after his adoption and settling into life with us to throw something else big at him.”
“Take a breath.” Stella squeezed her friend’s hand. “Talk to Nate about it. Find out what he thinks about being a super smart kid. Then you and Garrett discuss it, too. Go through all the pros and cons. Make your decision together.”
Jessie exhaled a deep breath. “You’re so good at this parenting things.”
Stella waved off the compliment. “Nah. I’ve just been at it longer.”
“Thank you so much for guiding us through the fostering and adoption process.”
“My pleasure.”
Now that the immediate cause for concern had been tamped down, the overly perceptive Jessie she’d known for years came out. “I see you and Joe have already met. The stinker. I knew he’d find a way to get out of it truly being a blind date. How did it go?”
Stella shrugged, and realized she didn’t feel stiff or sore from the jarring fall. She wondered if Joe could say the same. “I fell off the ladder and he caught me. I believe we’re intimately acquainted now.”
“You fell off…? Stella!” Jessie circled around her to the ladder that lay across the floor, and they both set it upright again. “Are you okay? Is Joe? When Ben gets back from his honeymoon, the first thing I’ll have him do is mount braces on the ladder to secure it. I don’t want the kids or anyone else falling out here.”
“The only thing that got bruised was my dignity.”
Stella recognized Ben Hunter’s name as the disabled Army veteran who worked as a trainer and caretaker on the ranch. He’d been very good with her kids when they’d gotten curious about his prosthetic arm. But she suspected that had more to do with the shy young woman he’d just married than with his level of comfort with curious children. Besides, Ben Hunter might be a badass former Special Forces soldier who oozed testosterone, but she was more interested in an older, shorter, stockier man. She smiled as she watched Joe climb onto the back deck and disappear into the house.
She knew her friend Jessie was almost a savant when it came to matching a dog to the right person. Maybe that talent for knowing just what someone needed extended to her matchmaking skills, as well. “And Joe seems very okay. Did you see the arms on that guy? He’s a little alpha and over-protective—he has a hard time getting out of cop mode. But he’s a gentleman, and he has a great laugh. And a very nice tushy.”
Jessie laughed. “I’m glad there’s a physical attraction there. But you and I both know the substance of a man means more than his looks.”
Stella’s phone vibrated in the back pocket of her jeans. It was probably Trey again. She’d just ignore it. Oh, yes. She knew all about the value of substance over flash. She’d lived that cautionary tale. “Joe didn’t point out that I was a klutz. Or that I have hay in my hair. Or that I’m a little fragrant after working out with Jasper and perspiring.” Stella plucked the cotton of her blouse away from where it clung to the skin above her cleavage. “Is it just me? Or does it feel like summer already? It’s only May.”
“You know Missouri weather. It’ll change soon enough. But can we get back to your first impression of Joe?”
“A little over-protective. Especially when he asked me about Trey.”
Jessie propped her hands at her waist. “That jerk is pestering you again?”
Stella didn’t deny it. Nor did she answer her friend’s question. “Joe made me feel good about myself, like I was important.”
“You are important.”
Stella nodded. “Men don’t always see that. They see the big house and the big bank account, or they see the woman who never did outgrow being a chubby girl.”
“That’s Trey talking. There is so much more to you than any of that. Any man worth his salt will get to know you and see you for the treasure you truly are.”
“Thanks.” Stella appreciated Jessie’s unwavering support. She linked elbows with her friend, and they started back toward the house, with both their dogs falling into step beside them. “Now. Joe said you could vouch for him. Tell me more about sexy Sergeant Joe Carpenter.”
Copyright © 2025 Harlequin Enterprises
