Courted by the Cowboy

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Courted by the Cowboy Page 8

by Sasha Summers


  Renata giggled. “She’s going to be working at the vet hospital with my brothers, in the open vet tech position they’ve had such trouble filling. Now all they need is to find someone to take over the front desk so Donna can retire.” Renata paused, holding up a T-shirt. “This.”

  So the job was still open. And her application was still at home. She didn’t have the skills or the experience to be a serious candidate. But...it was still open so maybe she should think about it. The benefits alone made it worth considering. But there were other perks. Like Fisher. Where the hell did that come from? She forced herself to focus, inspecting the black rhinestone-laden T-shirt with an arched brow.

  “It’s a T-shirt, but it’s a little something more.” Renata smiled. “Like I said, something pretty now and then. This whole rack is four shirts for five dollars.”

  Kylee looked at the shirt again. It was pretty—and affordable. It had a V neck and curlicue details...and didn’t look like it would swallow her up. Might be a nice change from the faded, solid-color men’s shirts she’d accrued over the years. She stood silently, watching Renata pull five more out for her inspection.

  “These would all look great on you.” Renata held them up one at a time. Kylee reluctantly agreed to the black one, a pink one, and a long-sleeved red top with black patches on the elbows and a black pocket on the chest.

  “Oh, and this one,” Tandy gushed, pulling a bright teal shirt covered in delicate lace and peacock-feather stitching.

  “All this for five dollars?” Kylee asked.

  Renata nodded. “They’re not new and they were donated for a good cause.”

  Kylee looked at the shirts again. They looked new to her. Since her wardrobe consisted of oversize men’s clothing, this was a big departure from her norm.

  “What about pants?” Tandy asked. “It’s hard to tell under that shirt, but I’m betting you’ve got a teeny-tiny waist.” She turned toward another rack with jeans—all shades and styles.

  The total cost for a pair of boots, four shirts and two pairs of jeans was twenty-five dollars. It had been so long since she’d spent money on herself, she almost argued and gave it all back. She could make do with what she had for now. But Renata’s reminder that proceeds went to the women’s shelter changed her mind. It was the least she could do to support something so worthwhile.

  She’d gone to the women’s shelter in Vegas one time. Jesse had disappeared, leaving them without food or shelter. By the time Kylee had found the shelter, they’d gone several days without eating. They’d stayed two nights before Jesse found them and brought them home to the hotel room he was currently living in. Jesse had been furious, pushing her around and yelling at her for taking such risks. He told her they’d separate her and Shawn—maybe even try to put him into foster care. She’d believed him, terrified and guilt-ridden about what could have been.

  It was Cutter’s sister, Miss Millie, who had set her straight. Miss Millie wasn’t scared of Jesse the way most people were. She’d tried to take Kylee and Shawn back to the shelter when Jesse was abusive, assuring Kylee it was the safest place in the city for them. But by then Kylee knew they’d never be safe from Jesse. Not as long as they’d stayed in Las Vegas.

  “Did Cutter mention dinner on Monday?” Renata asked, pulling Kylee from memories she wished she could erase. “Friends and family. We really hope you’ll come, too. Meet some people—we Boones know everyone.”

  Family meant Fisher...and her heart thumped a little faster. His absence at the bar this week had been all too obvious. No teasing, easy smiles or intense green eyes following her—except in her dreams. It was for the best, him staying away. Accepting the dinner invitation wasn’t a good idea. Life might be easier now but, after everything she’d been through, she’d be a fool to let her guard down and start daydreaming about things that would never be.

  Renata took the folded items from Tandy and placed them in a large plastic bag, still chattering away. “With Shawn, of course, Eli just loves him. They’re going to have lots of fun at camp.”

  First the camp, now dinner? “I’m still not sure about camp,” Kylie spoke up then.

  “I thought I was going,” Shawn’s voice drew all eyes. “I hoped... Never mind.” He stared at the ground, kicking a loose pebble with the toe of his worn shoe.

  She was being ridiculous. Her resistance came from fear. Fear of losing control, of being reliant on someone else. But she didn’t want to live in fear anymore. Not for herself. Not for Shawn.

  This wasn’t Las Vegas; this was Stonewall Crossing. There was nothing to fear here. That included the people and the Boones. Fisher—all of the Boones—had been nothing but nice to them both. Maybe people did nice things without expecting something in return. Miss Millie had. She’d sent them to Cutter and Stonewall Crossing to help them have a better life. A fresh start. And if she and Shawn were really starting over, she had to give things a chance—for Shawn. That included this amazing opportunity. It was hard to force the words out but she did. “I... I’m sorry, Shawn. You’re going. You’re going to camp and you’re going to have fun.”

  “Really, Kylee?” Shawn looked at her with wide eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Shawn. This is all Miss Boone’s idea—”

  “Thank you, Miss Boone,” Shawn said, shaking Renata’s hand. “I mean it. I’m really excited. I’ll behave. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  Shawn’s words made her heartsick. It was time for Shawn to be a kid: loud, laughing and full of energy. No, it was long overdue. Things like this camp would help with that. She had to be more careful; Shawn was an intuitive kid. She didn’t want her deep-seated worries to rob him of enjoying things. She was truly thankful Renata Boone had given Shawn this opportunity. She needed to act like it.

  Renata was looking at her little brother with a perplexed smile. “Oh, no, Shawn, we want to know you’re there,” Renata assured him. “You just concentrate on having a good time and making friends, okay?”

  Shawn nodded, still grinning ear to ear.

  “I hope you’ll think about dinner, too, Kylee.”

  Tandy joined in then. “Monday night—should be lots of fun. Uncle Teddy’s going to make his famous slow-cooked brisket and you don’t want to miss that, trust me.”

  “The bar is closed Mondays,” Shawn offered up, unknowingly removing the only excuse Kylee could have offered to avoid their invitation.

  Renata smiled. “Eli will be thrilled.”

  “He’s not the only one,” Tandy added, so softly that Kylee wondered if she’d imagined it.

  “Can you tell Dr. Fisher I said hello?” Shawn asked.

  “Of course.” Renata nodded. “He mentioned the three of you bowling soon. Ever bowled before?”

  “No, ma’am. Is it hard?” Shawn asked.

  “I’m sure Fisher will have you bowling like a pro in no time. He’s really good,” Tandy offered.

  He’d mentioned taking them bowling? To his family? Why? And why did it make her so...happy? She tried not to be. She tried not to think about Fisher’s laugh or the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. And his smile—her heart thudded. She swallowed. She didn’t want her heart reacting to any man.

  “Dr. Fisher’s good at everything, isn’t he?” Shawn asked.

  “Don’t let him hear you say that,” Renata said with a laugh. “He’s already got a big head on his shoulders.”

  “Well, they are pretty big shoulders,” Tandy added.

  Yes, they were. Big, broad and powerful. With one punch, he’d put George Carson out. And yet she knew he was just as capable of kindness—she’d seen it in his eyes on more than one occasion. Green eyes that always seemed to find her...and really see her. Her heart thudded again, sending a shudder through her chest.

  “What else are you looking for?” Renata as
ked, startling her.

  She glanced at Renata, all too aware of the way the woman was watching her. It was a friendly look, one that put Kylee at ease. “Clothes for him,” Kylee nodded at Shawn. “And shoes.” Then she had to get ready for work.

  Renata pointed out the best booths for boys’ attire and footwear. “It was nice chatting with you both. Hope to see you Monday,” Renata said, waving them off.

  “What are you thinking?” Kylee asked as they walked away.

  “About camp. And Eli. And dinner at the Boones’ place.” Shawn paused. “I like Dr. Fisher, too, Kylee. Think I’d be a good veterinarian? And the hospital.” Shawn shrugged. “Sometimes all this feels like a dream. I’ll wake up and it’ll be gone.” He glanced at her. “That would suck. A lot.”

  Kylee nodded.

  “Can we volunteer again?” Shawn asked. “At the hospital, I mean. Did you turn in your application for that job yet?”

  She paused. “You want me to?”

  Shawn looked at her like she was crazy. “Yes. Definitely. I want to be a volunteer, too.”

  Kylee nodded, but didn’t say anything. They’d had a lot of fun feeding the kittens—even if Fisher had been called into an emergency surgery as soon as they’d arrived. Cutter had ended up coming to take them home, but that hadn’t deterred Shawn’s hero worship one bit. Nope, her little brother thought Fisher was the coolest guy ever. So far, Kylee couldn’t disagree.

  In no time, Shawn had three pairs of jeans, some shorts, swim trunks, six shirts, tennis shoes and a pair of worn but good-quality cowboy boots. At sixty-eight dollars, they’d done well. But it was still hard to hand over the money.

  They headed slowly back through the tables, lingering over odds and ends, laughing out loud over a strange miniature of a gnome riding a turtle. “We should buy that,” Shawn giggled. “For the apartment.”

  Kylee shook her head, still giggling.

  But when Shawn paused at a booth full of books, Kylee went back for it. She loved to hear her little brother laugh. She paid quickly, keeping her eye on her brother and shoving the little statue among her newly acquired clothing before returning to his side. “Find something?”

  He jumped, so engrossed in the book that he hadn’t heard her approach. “Yeah. This kid’s going to become a warrior to defeat an invading alien race.” He held up the book. “Guess it’s a series.” He nodded at the box with three more books inside.

  The dollar sticker read Award-Winning Children’s Literature on it so Kylee said, “We’ll get the series, but you have to write a book report on each of them for me, okay?”

  Shawn’s eyes went round.

  “If you agree to the book report?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  Their final purchases included an army cot, a sleeping bag and a small oscillating fan. Kylee knew she’d spent too much money. But Shawn’s excitement over having his own room made it all worth it. For the first time in a long time, she felt...safe.

  * * *

  FISHER BROUGHT HIS new surgical resident, Brook Marcus, to Shots. It was one of the best places to meet locals—and Kylee would be there. He’d played two games of pool and danced with half of the elderly widow’s group that had come to hear the live country band, but there was still no sign of Kylee. It had been a long week made longer by missing her. And Shawn, too. He was curious to see what pictures the boy had added to his sketchbook.

  A quick glance at the bar assured him nothing had changed. Devon’s silver-and-brown braid was a familiar sight behind the bar; she’d been working at Shots as long as Fisher could remember. She wiped the bar down while chatting with the patrons seated on the stools, handling the relatively slow Friday night with no trouble.

  “Who are you looking for?” Brook asked.

  “No one,” Fisher replied, shifting the pool cue from one hand to the next.

  “Maybe she’s not working tonight,” Jarvis offered, clearly amused.

  Fisher shot Jarvis a look, silencing his friend.

  “She who?” Brook asked. “Oh, a lady love?”

  He focused on the pool table, setting up his next shot.

  “His would-be lady love,” Jarvis offered up.

  “Details,” Brook demanded. Fisher had been a little thrown off by Brook’s forthright manner—in everything. It was a benefit in surgery or while handling emergencies, but it could be pretty damn abrupt in average daily conversation.

  “Nothing to tell,” his cousin Toben said with a laugh. He stood on the opposite side of the table, pool cue in hand. “Fisher’s in the friend zone. He lives in the friend zone.”

  Fisher took his shot, missed and faced his cousin. “I’d rather be in the friend zone than some one-night hookup.” His interest in Kylee extended beyond the bedroom. Not that he hadn’t thought about that, but—

  “Really?” Toben asked, tilting his hat back on his head and arching both eyebrows. “Well, hell, Fisher, that’s just...wrong.”

  Fisher grinned, shaking his head at Toben. Since Ryder was now a happily married man, Toben had gladly taken up the reins as the town playboy. He was good-looking, sweet-talking and drew women like moths to a flame. But Fisher didn’t envy Toben, he envied Ryder. Maybe he was lazy, but Fisher had never enjoyed the dating scene. He wanted to share his home with a woman who loved him, a woman he loved above all else. Their home would be full of happiness and laughter. Eventually he hoped he’d have kids—a full house that was always busy and inviting.

  Brook laughed, the husky timbre drawing appreciative looks from both Jarvis and Toben. Fisher shook his head. She was pretty, her bright, curly red hair and large brown eyes signaling her vivacious personality. And since she was new in town, she’d probably get lots of interest. Knowing her the way he was beginning to, she could handle it. She’d probably enjoy it.

  “Looks like Mrs. Callahan’s waving you over,” Jarvis murmured.

  Fisher glanced at the table of silver-haired women. “You can dance, Jarvis. So can you, Toben. Those sweet old gals can teach you a thing or two on the dance floor.”

  Toben snorted dismissively.

  “You, Fisher Boone, are a real gentleman,” Brook said, smiling up at him. “You keep holding doors open, dancing with little old ladies and being your charming self and that mystery girl will fall head over heels for you.”

  Fisher handed his pool cue to Brook. “I’ll hold you to that.” He crossed the wooden-planked floor and tipped his hat to Sylvia Callahan. “Mrs. Callahan.”

  “Fisher,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I must say, this is one of my favorite songs.”

  “Well, then, let’s not waste it.” He offered her his hand.

  Mrs. Callahan took it and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. She might be stiff with age, but she could still two-step something fierce.

  “You look so much like your momma,” Mrs. Callahan said. “Same eyes. Course, she was a might shorter than you.”

  He laughed. “Most people are.”

  “You musta drank a lot of milk growing up,” she continued. “So big and strong. Why aren’t you settled down yet, Fisher? Never thought I’d see the day when Ryder got hitched before you or your sister.”

  He nodded, letting her prattle on while they danced. She’d been a friend of his mother’s. When his mother died, these were the ladies who had kept his family fed, cleaned the house and done the shopping until his dad got back on his feet. He couldn’t see them without giving them hugs and offering them a nice word or a teasing smile as well as the occasional dance. It was the least he could do to repay their kindness. And while he knew they missed having dance partners, he suspected there was more to it. Teddy Boone was quite the catch. Every one of these ladies was sweet on his father. But if they were hoping he’d give them some magic word to win his father they’d be disappointed. Fisher di
dn’t have the heart to tell them that his father was, and always would be, in love with Fisher’s mother.

  As the music came to a close, he spun Mrs. Callahan. She was giggling and breathless when he escorted her back to her table.

  “My turn.” Brook stood at his elbow. “If you’re free?”

  He nodded. “Think you can keep up?” he asked, nodding at the stage. The beat was quick, and two other couples were spinning like tops across the wooden floor.

  “I’ve been watching YouTube videos for this.” Brook watched them, wide-eyed. “Try me.”

  By the time the music was over, Fisher was limping.

  “I’m so sorry,” Brook said, laughing. “It’s harder than it looks.”

  “Are you wearing steel-toed boots?” he asked.

  She burst out laughing again.

  “It’s his fault, not yours,” Toben interrupted. “He never could lead worth a damn.” He held his hand out to Brook.

  Fisher looked back and forth between them, inwardly groaning. Brook had wanted to see some of Stonewall Crossing and meet the locals. Toben would definitely give her a warm welcome.

  “You’re telling me you can do better?” Brook asked, inspecting his cousin.

  “Why don’t you see for yourself, darlin’?” Toben tipped his hat back.

  Fisher shook his head. “I’m getting a beer.” He headed toward the bar—to find Kylee staring at him. Her blue eyes looked huge in her pale face and her black hair fell over one shoulder down to her waist...a waist that was visible since she was wearing clothes that actually fitted her.

  And, damn, the curves of her body made him ache. She looked so pretty his chest hurt, pressing in on him until he felt light-headed. She might make his body stand up and take notice, but it was more than physical attraction. When she smiled, he smiled. When she laughed, he wanted to hear her do it again. He wanted to sit beside her, to see her and take care of her.

  She had a smile on her face when he sat on a bar stool—a smile that made it hard to say, “Hi,” without sounding like an idiot.

 

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