The hardest part for Fisher had been hearing the state they were in when they arrived. Hearing that Kylee’s arm had been in a sling, her mouth had been full of stitches and Shawn’s arms and neck were covered with bruises made him see red. It had been years since he’d wanted to beat the crap out of someone, but he did—badly. If he knew who’d hurt them...well, it was good he didn’t.
Cutter leaned on the countertop. “She filled out that job application. For Donna’s job, the front desk manager at the vet school? I admit, I wouldn’t quit hassling her about it until I’d seen it was done with my own two eyes.” Cutter shrugged. “But now she’s holding on to the damn thing instead of turning it in. Scared, I think. Not that she’d ever admit to it. She’s a feisty one.”
Fisher grinned, in full agreement with Cutter’s opinion of Kylee and his take on things. Starting over was scary. Someone like Kylee, who was determined to be independent, would resist assistance unless there was no other choice. He admired her, her strength and devotion to her little brother. If there was something he could do to help Kylee and Shawn, he’d do it—without analyzing why he was so willing to do so. Sad as he was to see Donna retire, this would be a real opportunity for Kylee—and Shawn.
“Keep working on her,” Fisher offered. “No offense, but it’d be good for both of them.”
“Why the hell do you think I suggested she find another job, boy?” Cutter got riled up. “Go on, now, and get yourself outta here. I got things to do.”
Fisher left the bar, disappointed. Waylon was tied to the hitching post out front. “Ready to go?” he asked, patting the horse’s neck.
Waylon snorted.
He and Waylon rode into town once in a while. Since Waylon took part in a lot of parades, Fisher liked to keep the horse comfortable around cars and people. Riding in town helped with that. And since Archer had been even more short-tempered than usual this morning, Fisher had saddled up Waylon and headed out. He climbed onto the saddle and turned the horse toward the vet hospital. While Fisher got caught up on charting and checked in on some patients, Waylon could get some extra attention from the students on the large animal rotation.
He’d hoped he’d see Kylee this morning—it had been almost a week since she and Shawn visited the vet school. But since she wasn’t around, he decided to stop in at Pop’s bakery for some breakfast. His gaze swept the warm peaches and pinks that colored the early-morning sky, the faintest dusting of bright white clouds yellowing with the rise of the sun. It was going to be a gorgeous day.
He whistled, peeking in the storefront windows of the shops on the town square. Sundays were quiet days on Main Street, most shops opened late and closed early. Days like today were meant for tubing the river, barbecues and, according to his father, work around the ranch. He didn’t mind the work; he and his family had taken care of their land for generations and he was proud to do it. Maybe after he’d checked in at the hospital and after he’d completed his father’s work list, he could talk the family into roasting marshmallows over a big fire that evening. He dismounted and tied Waylon’s reins to the railing before pushing the door to the bakery open.
Carl and Lola, the elderly couple who owned Pop’s, both greeted him warmly.
“Morning, Fisher.” Lola waved. “What brings you into town this morning?”
“Figured I’d have some breakfast before I head to work.” He accepted her hug. “How’s life been treating you and Carl?”
“Oh, sugar, life’s about as good as it gets, I’d say. Well, until Josie and Hunter give us another grandbaby, that is. You can tell them I said that.” She smiled.
“I’ll do that,” Fisher laughed. “Not that it’ll hurry things along.” Hunter was married to Carl’s only child. And Carl and Lola, Carl’s second wife, loved Eli, but they were getting impatient to hold some grandbabies in their arms. Since the Boones had twins in their family, Carl and Lola were hoping they’d get two the first time around. But, as far as Fisher knew, Josie and Hunter were still too wrapped up in each other to be thinking about babies—yet.
“Can’t hurt.” Lola patted his hand. “What can I get you?”
“Couple of sausage rolls and one raspberry kolache,” he paused, glancing at the whiteboard with their specials written on it. “Make that blueberry. And lots of coffee.”
“That all?” she asked. “A man as big as you? That’s not gonna last you till ten.”
Fisher arched a brow at her. “Trying to fatten me up, Lola?”
She laughed, the little bell over the door interrupting them.
George Carson came in, saw Fisher and froze.
Fisher had a choice to make. It was clear the man knew he was in the wrong. But pride was going to stop him from saying as much. Fisher could either stay pissed that Carson lost control or he could do his best to act like it never happened. And damn if he didn’t know what holding on to anger could do to a man’s soul. He drew in a deep breath and nodded at the man. “Carson.”
“Boone.” Carson returned the nod and headed to the counter.
“Morning, George.” Lola chatted away, taking the other man’s order.
Fisher made his way to one of the two tables that were empty, nodding and saying good morning to the rest of the bakery patrons as he went. He’d just taken his seat when the bell over the door rang and his brother Archer arrived.
“Shit,” Fisher muttered, shooting a quick glance at Carson.
Luckily, Archer saw Fisher first and headed his way. Archer sat without saying a word, pulling out the newspaper he’d tucked into his bag and spreading it open on the table.
“Good morning to you, too,” Fisher murmured. He loved his brother, but a man needed his space. Archer didn’t seem to get that. Or, if he did, he didn’t care. But then Archer had always been the sort to do what he wanted, when he wanted, regardless of who else might have an opinion or say-so.
He saw Kylee and Shawn before they came in. Shawn was staring at Waylon, tugging on Kylee’s arm until she stopped. Neither one of them made a move to touch his horse, but they both took their time looking the horse over. Shawn pulled his sketch pad from the worn backpack he always carried, but Kylee tugged him toward the door. Shawn followed reluctantly.
The bell rang again as they came in. It didn’t matter that she wore a T-shirt two sizes too big or that her jeans were so faded one knee was threadbare and in need of patching. Her neck arched as she listened to Shawn, her long black ponytail swinging with each step. She gave Shawn one of her sweet smiles and lovingly squeezed her brother’s shoulder. Everything about her mesmerized Fisher.
He swallowed, turning his focus on a safer target—Shawn. The boy kept looking at Waylon, visible through the huge picture windows that lined the front of the bakery. He was pleased to see the letter he’d left with Cutter moments before sticking out of Shawn’s back pocket.
Would Shawn want to go? He knew the boy liked horses. He remembered Shawn’s sketches, and his reaction to Waylon spoke volumes. Would Kylee let him? He hoped so; it would be good for both of them. Chances were she was going to need some convincing. Her gaze swept the room—making sure it was safe? When her eyes met his, she paused, wavering. Interesting.
He smiled at her, wishing he knew what was going on inside that pretty little head of hers. “Whatever I say,” Fisher mumbled to his brother, “I need you to go along with it.”
Archer frowned, looking up from his newspaper. “What?”
“Just do it, Archer,” Fisher growled as Shawn pulled Kylee toward them. “Morning.”
Kylee’s smile was small, but it was a start. “Morning.”
“Hey, Dr. Boone and Dr. Boone.” Shawn shook his head. “That’s weird.”
“You’re tellin’ me. How about I’m just Fisher and he’s Dr. Archer?” Fisher laughed. “Join us?”
“Oh, I—” Kylee’s gaze bounced b
ack and forth between them.
Archer frowned. It took everything Fisher had not to kick his brother under the table.
Kylee started to back away. “No, we can’t—”
“Sure, you can.” Fisher nodded, nudging Archer’s foot under the table.
“Yes,” Archer said. “Sit. Please.”
Fisher sighed. “You’ll have to excuse my brother. He’s much better with animals.”
Kylee smiled, he saw it—and it warmed him through.
Shawn sat, pulling the letter from his pocket and placing it on the table.
Fisher gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Lola set on the table in front of him. “Needed this, thank you, Lola.”
“I don’t know if someone’s told you, and I hesitated to mention it before, but you’ve got a black eye, Fisher.” Lola patted him on the shoulder, causing everyone at the table to laugh.
“I do?” Fisher feigned surprise. “No wonder it’s sore.”
“You should have seen it a week ago,” Shawn chimed in.
“That bad, huh?” Lola asked.
Shawn made a face. Which made everyone laugh again. Even Kylee, though she tried like hell not to.
Eventually, Lola asked, “What can I get everyone this morning? The cinnamon rolls and blueberry kolaches are fresh. All the other specials are on the board.”
That was when Kylee saw George Carson. Fisher watched as her blue eyes went round and her body stiffened. Her gaze darted to Shawn, then Fisher, then to Carson. She wanted to leave, every muscle in her body was coiled tight and ready to run. Did she think he’d start something with Carson? Or was she worried about Carson being the instigator? Either way, he should reassure her that everything was all right.
Kylee wasn’t the only one who saw Carson. “When did he get here?” Archer snapped. “Did he apologize?”
Fisher shook his head. “Water under the bridge, Archer.”
“Maybe for you.” His brother’s voice was hard.
Fisher smiled then. His brother was thinking about Carson’s work ethic and the jeopardy he’d put Archer’s horses in. Not the fact that he’d treated his brother like a punching bag. “If I’m okay with the man getting his breakfast, I think you should be, too.”
Kylee frowned at Archer—and it warmed Fisher’s heart. He winked at her, wincing as it pulled against his healing cut. She winced, too, making him smile. She shook her head then.
“What?” Fisher asked her.
She looked at him, a long assessing look, before answering, “I’m still adjusting to the norm here in Stonewall Crossing.”
“I like it,” Shawn piped up.
“I do, too,” Fisher agreed.
Archer sat stoically while George Carson left, carrying a large pastry box with him. He did notice Kylee’s posture relax once the door closed behind Carson’s back.
“Have you lived here your whole life?” Shawn asked.
“Most of it,” Fisher said. “Went away for a few years for college, served in the reserves—canine corps unit, of course—but that’s it.”
“Where’d you go for school?” Shawn asked. “Travel with the reserves?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Archer commented.
All eyes turned on Archer.
“That’s not bad,” Archer clarified. “It’s a sign of intelligence.”
Shawn nodded. “Oh.”
“He was in gifted and talented classes when we...at his last school,” Kylee nodded. “He gets bored easily.”
Archer nodded. “Need to keep him busy.”
Archer’s words had Kylee stiffening and Fisher’s protective instincts on the rise. Archer hadn’t meant to sound critical, he just did—that’s the way he always sounded. But Kylee didn’t know that so she might take Archer’s comment personally. In the time he’d spent with her, he’d learned one thing for certain. Kylee was doing the best she could for Shawn—she always would.
Fisher glanced at the letter on the table, the one Shawn kept glancing at. “What’s that?”
Shawn offered it to him, leaning back so Lola could serve them their breakfasts. “Thank you, ma’am,” Shawn said to Lola, before turning back to Fisher. “A camp. Kylee doesn’t want me to go—”
“I didn’t say that, Shawn.” Kylee sighed. “It’s just...it has to cost something or have some sort of catch or condition or something.” Her blue eyes searched his, curious.
Fisher’s heart hurt for her. He and Renata had puzzled over every word of the letter. Instinct told him Kylee would throw the letter away if it came across as a pity offer.
“What camp?” Archer asked.
“Horse camp,” Shawn offered, taking a big bite of his blueberry roll.
“Do you have any interest in horses?” Archer asked.
“He draws them all the time,” Kylee said.
“He’s good, too,” Fisher said. “If you have any new ones, I’d like to see them.”
Shawn nodded. “Okay.” He pulled his battered sketchbook out and offered it to Fisher. “They’re my favorite animal. I’ve never seen one up close before...” He glanced out the window. “Until now... But I’ve read a lot about them. Did you know the horse has the largest eye out of all land animals? You probably did, since you’re a veterinarian.” Shawn grinned.
“Land mammals,” Archer clarified, but Fisher could tell his brother’s interest was piqued. “Do you want to go?”
“Yes.” Shawn’s answer was almost apologetic.
“Is it far?” Archer asked.
Shawn shook his head. “I don’t know. Is Boone Ranch far?”
Fisher felt Archer’s eyes on him, but didn’t acknowledge it. Archer knew the camp was full, that it was far from free, and there was a waiting list. He could deal with Archer’s interrogation later. Right now, he wanted Shawn to have some fun this summer. He didn’t resist as Archer took the letter from him, reading over it.
But Fisher had a hard time meeting Kylee’s gaze when she asked, “Why Shawn?”
Because he wanted to do something nice for them? He wanted to give the boy a real childhood experience? Somehow he suspected she’d find that an unacceptable answer so he said, “Maybe Cutter nominated him?” and hoped she’d take the bait.
“Cutter?” It was hard to miss the skepticism in her tone.
He nodded, her assessing gaze slightly unnerving.
“This is entirely our sister Renata’s program so I can’t say a word on this scholarship process,” Archer offered. “But Cutter’s involvement does make the most sense.”
Fisher hoped she’d accept his brother’s argument. It did sound logical.
“He’s already done so much for us.” She glanced at Shawn. “Too much.”
“What’s the harm in him going?” Archer handed the letter back to Kylee. “From the sounds of that, it’s all taken care of. My sister works hard on this all year. Kids come from all over to go. Shawn would enjoy it.”
Fisher smiled at his brother, pleased by his support. Archer didn’t smile back. Fisher sighed.
Archer flipped through Shawn’s sketchbook, taking his time with each sketch.
“I won’t go if you say no,” Shawn said to his sister. “If you’re worried that Jesse’s going to find us—”
“Shawn,” she interrupted quickly. Her skin had paled and her hands were shaking. “Let me call them first, okay? Just to make sure.” Her voice was high, pinched.
Who was Jesse? Were they hiding from him? Were they in danger? He thought about what Cutter had told him this morning. One look at Shawn spoke volumes. But getting angry wouldn’t help them and that’s what he wanted to do. “Want me to call my sister?” Fisher offered. “Since she’s the one in charge.”
Archer shot him a look that he pointedly ignored.
> Kylee poked at her cinnamon roll. “I can call.”
“Sure,” he relented, wishing he could say or do something to lighten the mood. Whoever this Jesse was, he’d done enough damage. They were here now, safe—Fisher would make sure of that.
“You should call her,” Archer’s words surprised him. “Get all your questions answered. I don’t blame you for being skeptical.”
Fisher bit back a grin. Archer was right. The best way to ease doubts was to answer questions. And he wanted Kylee to feel good about this. He didn’t need to worry. It was all Renata’s idea. When one of their out-of-state students had canceled at the last minute Renata had been the one to think of Shawn first. Since her “baby brother” was “sweet on Kylee” she wanted to help however she could. Fisher had offered to pay Shawn’s tuition as an anonymous scholarship and Renata had typed up the letter. Now all he had to do was make sure Shawn actually went.
“How’s Chance?” Shawn asked. “We wanted to come see him, but Cutter’s been too busy to drive us.”
“Better every day.” Fisher was considering adopting Chance for himself. The dog was smart, smart enough to learn how to work with cattle—even with his bum leg. Chance would be a good companion...once Archer was back under his own roof. “I’ve got some kittens to feed at the clinic this morning. Kylee, would you and Shawn be free to help out? We’re always in need of volunteers.”
“Kittens?” Shawn asked.
“They came in last night, late. Apparently the mom was hit in a parking lot and an old woman brought in the kittens,” Fisher explained.
“That was kind.” Kylee spoke softly, still considering her cinnamon roll. He liked the hint of a smile on her mouth.
“Can we, Kylee?” Shawn polished off his roll. “I’ll volunteer.”
Kylee glanced at Fisher, her posture easing a little. “I guess.”
“I’m sure the little guys’ll be happy to see you.” Fisher knew he was. Now he just needed to convince Archer to ride Waylon so he could drive them to the hospital. And he’d need to convince Waylon to let Archer ride him.
Courted by the Cowboy Page 6
