Sweet Wild of Mine

by Laurel Kerr

  When Katie had left Sagebrush for college twelve years ago, she’d been more than happy to leave high school behind. Unfortunately, her escape hadn’t turned out quite as she’d dreamed. She’d planned to become an artist, maybe in New York, LA, or even Tokyo. Instead, she’d traded a small town with tumbleweed for one with trees. Worse, she’d found herself the oddball out again in the male-dominated mulch plant in Minnesota where she’d worked designing packaging and performing the secretarial tasks that her boss assigned to her instead of her more junior male counterpart.

  All told, it hadn’t been hard to quit her job when her father, a retired police officer, was shot by an ex-con, Eddie Driver. Even if Sagebrush didn’t offer many career opportunities, Katie’s family had needed her. Her mother had never handled crises well, despite being the wife of a former chief of police, and Katie’s four brothers couldn’t handle their mother in a crisis.

  Unfortunately, Katie hadn’t counted on running into Bowie again. As wild as he’d been as a teenager, she’d figured he would have left their dusty hometown long ago. But it appeared that he hadn’t. She knew one thing for certain, though. After publicly humiliating her and effectively ending any chance of her dating anyone else in high school, Bowie Wilson had simply and utterly forgotten her.

  “Uh, ma’am? Where exactly are we headed?”

  Ma’am? Really? Although she supposed it was better than Katie Underwear.

  “Up.”

  “I see that, but where did the mother cougar leave her cubs?” The patience in Bowie’s tone irritated Katie even more. How dare he act like he was the rational one?

  She whipped around to glare at him. Even in the harsh light of the LED lantern, Bowie was a handsome man.

  “We’re headed to a cave,” she bit out.

  Twelve years ago, Bowie could have doubled for a teenage heartthrob with the shock of jet-black hair that had always dangled over his piercing gray eyes. Now, with that hair neatly trimmed and a five-o’clock stubble dusting his jaw, he looked like a model posing for an outdoor magazine. As an immature youth, he’d possessed a bad boy prettiness that appealed to girls—even self-proclaimed geeks like her. The years had toughened his features, hardening his male beauty into something more alluring and dangerous, even to a woman who should have known better.

  Much better. Darn the man if he still didn’t have the capacity to make Katie’s hormones dance a happy little jig.

  She steamed. If time hadn’t mattered, she might have taken them on a more difficult path. Even then, she doubted that it would have fazed Bowie. Despite never climbing on this particular rock face before, the man moved like a machine. She could just imagine his muscular forearm extending as he reached for the next hold. His bicep would flex as he hoisted his body…

  Katie cursed at herself. Sometimes she found her vivid imagination more of a burden than a gift. It had certainly brought her more difficulties than successes.

  Thankfully, they quickly arrived at the small cave. Katie started inside, but a warm hand rested on her shoulder. Even through the fabric of her T-shirt, she could feel Bowie’s heat and the strength of his fingers. An unbidden shiver slid through her.

  “Let me go first.” Bowie’s breath caressed the sensitive skin on the back of Katie’s neck, and she had to fight to suppress another shudder. “The mother cougar may have returned.”

  Bowie dropped to his knees and used the light from his headlamp to scan the cave before crawling inside. With his larger frame, it took him a few seconds to wiggle through the narrow passage. As soon as Bowie moved far enough into the alcove for Katie to enter, she crawled over to the cubs. They moved clumsily about, searching for milk and their mother’s warmth. One yawned. Its tiny whiskers flexed as it emitted a long squeak. The others followed suit. Katie’s heart squeezed. She resisted the urge to gather the little fluffs against her chest. She still didn’t know the protocol on handling kits this small, and she didn’t want to harm one inadvertently.

  “Their eyes aren’t even open yet!” she said.

  Bowie nodded. “Nor are their ears at this stage. They must be less than ten days old.” The awe in his voice caused Katie to turn sharply in his direction. He appeared just as infatuated with the cubs as she was. Was this the same man who’d once tied granny panties to the undercarriage of her car along with the sign HONK IF YOU SEE MY UNDERWEAR?

  Bowie reached for one of the mewling cubs and cradled it against his muscular chest. The little guy burrowed against him, and Katie’s hormones went crazy again. Just when she thought the scene couldn’t get any sweeter, the kit yawned, showing its miniature pink tongue. Then with one more nuzzle against Bowie’s pecs, it heaved a surprisingly large sigh as it fell asleep. Bowie’s handsome features softened into a gentle smile as he stroked the baby cougar’s spotted fur with one callused finger.

  If Katie hadn’t suffered years of Bowie’s cruel teasing, she would have found herself halfway in love with him. He’d appeared to be the ideal boyfriend once before, but it had all been a veneer, the perfect trap for a geeky girl with silly dreams of romance. And Katie, the woman, would not fall prey to his outward charms again.

  “Can I pick up one of the cougars too?” The cuteness of the cub would serve as a nice distraction from her unwanted feelings.

  Bowie nodded. “They’ll need to be hand-reared, so they’re going to end up imprinting on humans anyway. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to reintroduce them to the wild, but we can save them.”

  Katie lifted one of the furry bundles, marveling at the softness of its fur. The little guy emitted a small, contented sound and immediately snuggled against Katie’s warmth. She could feel a cold, teeny nose against her skin as the cub rested its head in the crook of her arm. And right then and there, Katie fell in love. With the tiny kit. Definitely not with the man.

  Although she hated putting the baby puma down, she knew the little trio needed more than just a warm cuddle. “Did you bring something to carry the cubs back down the mountain with?”

  Bowie grimaced and shook his head. “I didn’t know the climb would be so steep.”

  And, Katie realized, she hadn’t given him time to grab something from his truck either. To her surprise, Bowie was too polite to point that out.

  “Do you want me to run back to the house to get a backpack?” she asked.

  Bowie shook his head. “We’ll have to improvise. I’m not sure how long the cubs have been without milk, and we need to get them out of this cave as soon as possible.”

  Katie scanned the dirt floor of the alcove and saw nothing—not even a twig. She turned back to ask Bowie what he planned on using and stopped. He was halfway out of his shirt. Normally, Katie wouldn’t blatantly ogle a man, but…those abs. And pecs. His biceps flexed as he ripped his shirt down the middle so it made one thick band. Bowie Wilson might be just as bad for Katie as an entire carton of rocky road ice cream, but he looked just as temptingly scrumptious.

  * * *

  Bowie froze as he lifted his head and found the auburn-haired woman watching him as if she wanted to lick him all over. Something equally hot and elemental whipped through him. He’d never had this much of a visceral response to any woman. If it weren’t for the baby mountain lions, he might have been crazy enough to accept her unspoken offer…even if he didn’t know whether she’d jump him or push him down the cliff.

  The lady—who he’d mentally taken to calling Red—might be showing an attraction to his body, but she didn’t appear to like him. At all. She reminded him a bit of the zoo’s honey badger, Fluffy—all snarls, bad temper, and teeth. In the wild, Fluffy’s relatives were known to take down king cobras, and Bowie couldn’t shake the feeling that Red viewed him as one giant snake.

  Still, Red had looked soft, sweet even, while cuddling the runt of the litter against her breasts. Sugar and spice—that was Red. And damn if the combination didn’t intrigue him.


  As a single father, Bowie should know better than to lust after a woman who was all fire one moment and pure honey the next. If he ever started dating seriously, he’d need an even-tempered partner who could handle the ups and downs of parenthood. He’d already dated one female chimera and learned a lesson about falling for someone with a dual personality. His high school girlfriend, Sawyer, had been classy and elegant with an outward poise that had impressed and intimidated the hell out of his teenage self. But inside, she had a childish mean streak that could strike at any time. She had never wanted anything to do with their daughter, and for that, Bowie was actually grateful. He loved his baby girl and wanted to protect her from the Sawyers of the world for as long as possible.

  “Is that going to work?” Red asked, jerking her head toward his ruined T-shirt. She still snuggled the kit to her breasts as she peered at him.

  “It should,” Bowie said, withdrawing his Leatherman from his pocket. He cut two slices near the bottom of his shirt and then tore them off to use as bindings. With the zoo’s piss-poor budget, he’d learned to find creative solutions with the supplies on hand. Within a few moments, he had jerry-rigged a semblance of a bag. He tested it with a few rocks first. Satisfied it would hold three pounds’ worth of wiggling cubs, he carefully placed the babies inside, including the one in Red’s arms.

  “You always were smart.”

  Bowie glanced up at Red. That hadn’t sounded like a compliment, but it wasn’t the only thing that confused him. She certainly acted like she knew him, but he still couldn’t place her.

  “How do we know each other?” he finally asked.

  She glared, looking every inch like an irate Fluffy during one of his particularly bad moods. “Think a little harder.”

  Somewhere, a memory flickered. A fleeting glimpse of red hair. But then the recollection floated away, out of reach. Bowie shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. You seem familiar, I promise, but I just can’t remember from where.”

  Rather than mollify Red, his words only fanned the flames shooting from her eyes. Still on her haunches, she spun around and then scrambled out of the cave. Sighing, he gathered his bundle of cubs and followed.

  Bowie noticed that Red moved slower descending the cliff than she had going up, probably out of consideration for the cougars that he carried. When they reached the bottom of the rock formation, Bowie spotted Lou standing under the porch light next to a lady with the same fiery mane as Red’s. Instead of Red’s flowing cascade of curls, though, this woman’s hair formed a frizzy halo about her cherubic face. Something jangled in the back of Bowie’s brain, but before he could zero in on it, the older woman called out to Red, waving her hand cheerfully.

  “Sweetheart, I was just telling Lou how you came back home to help out your father and me and that you’re looking for work.”

  Red shot Bowie a sidelong glance and then spoke through gritted teeth. “I do have some paying projects, Mom.”

  Lou, always the peacemaker, quickly added, “Helen was also telling me that you’re designing labels for Clara Winters’s granddaughter’s new jam business.”

  So, Red was acquainted with June Winters, Bowie thought, although that clue didn’t help him much, since everyone in Sagebrush Flats knew June. The woman had breezed into town a little less than a decade ago and revitalized her family’s tea shop. What used to be the domain of little old ladies after Sunday church had become the local hot spot. Even the most taciturn ranchers stopped by for the fussy desserts and fancy drinks. Although June’s cooking was the best in town, the food wasn’t the only draw. It was the woman herself. June had long blond hair and eyes as green as the grass during the month after which she was named. But unlike her surname, Winters, her personality was as bright as a summer’s day. Bowie had stopped by the tea shop himself, but he much preferred Red’s earthy sexiness to June’s more classic elegance.

  In response to Lou’s comment, Red’s mother bobbed her head like the zoo’s cockatoo, Rosie, when the bird was shaking her plume in time to her beloved punk rock. “Yes, and I told Lou how you redid the menus for June’s tea shop and that the Prairie Dog Café agreed to use the place mats you’re designing—the ones with ad space for local businesses.”

  “Your mother thought you could help us with the zoo’s website and our general marketing strategy,” Lou said, looking first at Katie before he turned to address Bowie. “What do you think?”

  “Well, it hasn’t been updated since before I started,” Bowie said carefully. Red looked like the zoo’s camel, Lulubelle, right before the animal spit. Clearly, Red didn’t appreciate her mother’s interference. Keeping his voice neutral, Bowie decided to give her an out. “How high are your fees? Our budget is pretty tight.”

  Honestly, Bowie wouldn’t mind improving the zoo’s internet presence if he could do it at a reasonable cost. He and Lou needed something to draw folks through the gates. He’d never really had much of an artistic side, and unlike most of his generation, he sucked with computers. Except for the occasional use at school, he hadn’t had much access to them growing up. He certainly didn’t know anything about web design. But Bowie didn’t want to strong-arm Red into helping him, even if it would benefit the zoo.

  “I’m sure my daughter would give you a discount,” Red’s mom said. “Wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

  Red’s jaw clenched, and she was back to looking like a mulish honey badger. “Mom, Bowie and Lou haven’t even seen my work.”

  “I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Lou said quickly. Too quickly. Bowie barely prevented a groan from escaping his lips as he turned from Lou to Red’s mom and then back again. This wasn’t just about building Red’s business or getting low-cost marketing advice. It was a matchmaking scheme, plain and simple. And from the way Red’s shoulders stiffened, she recognized it too.

  Before Lou and Helen drove Red into finally losing her temper, Bowie turned to her and asked, “Why don’t you stop by the zoo tomorrow and bring some samples of your work? We can see if it will be a good fit for both of us.”

  Before she could answer, her mother beamed. “That sounds like an excellent idea! Doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

  Red made a sound that Bowie figured was supposed to be noncommittal, but it came out like a honey badger’s snarl.

  Sensing the need for a diversion, Bowie turned to Lou and gestured to the bundle of squirming mountain lions. “Lou, do you want to check on the cubs?” Bowie asked. “I think they’re all right other than they’ll need milk as soon as we return to the zoo.” After Lou took the bundle from him, Bowie turned to Red and her mom to explain, “These little guys are going to need formula about every four hours.”

  “Ooo,” Red’s mom said, “that sounds like a lot of work. Will you be looking for volunteers?” She turned to Red. “What do you think, sweetheart? Would you like to help care for them? You’ve always loved taking in strays.”

  “Mom, I’m here to help you with Dad.”

  Helen waved a hand dismissively. “He’s stronger now, and you’ve been so much help. It’s time you took a break and did something for yourself. We’ll be fine. You could even work on the zoo’s marketing while you watch the cubs.”

  “Uh, we can talk about that tomorrow as well,” Bowie said as he quickly swiveled in Lou’s direction. “Are the cubs in good enough shape for the return trip?”

  When Lou nodded, Bowie placed his hand on the older man’s upper arm and gently steered him to the truck before either he or Helen could attempt more matchmaking. Considering the zoo’s skeletal staff, Bowie couldn’t afford to turn down volunteers, but if anyone pushed Red further tonight, she would explode. Although he wouldn’t mind watching the fireworks from a safe distance, Bowie was a little too close to the danger zone. Plus, he and Lou really did need to get the cubs back to the zoo.

  Waiting until Lou got settled in the truck, Bowie helped arrange the bundle of kits on his mentor’s lap. As
Bowie climbed into the driver’s seat, Lou yawned and said, “Nice, sweet girl. Good family.”

  Bowie grunted. He really wanted to learn Red’s name and hear what had brought her back to Sagebrush Flats, but he was afraid that any interest would just encourage Lou and Helen’s matchmaking. Maybe if he kept Lou talking, the information would come out naturally. As Bowie considered how to dig innocuously for more details, he heard a snore. A fond smile crossed Bowie’s face when he glanced over at Lou and realized the eighty-year-old had fallen asleep again.

  Oh well. Regardless of who Red was, Bowie had a feeling that tomorrow’s meeting with her was going to be interesting.

  Wild On My Mind

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  About the Author

  Two-time Golden Heart Finalist Laurel Kerr spent a few weeks each summer of her childhood on family road trips. That time packed into the back seat of her grandparents’ Grand Marquis opened her imagination and exposed her to the wonders of the United States. The lessons she learned then still impact her writing today. She lives near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with her husband, daughter, and loyal Cavalier King Charles spaniel.

  Connect with Laurel online:

  laurelkerr.com

  facebook.com/laurelkerrauthor

  twitter.com/laurelkerrbooks

  instagram.com/laurelkerrauthor

  Also by Laurel Kerr

  Where the Wild Hearts Are

  Wild On My Mind

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