Page 20 of Josephine and Clay

I lean against the counter. “That’s a horrifying sales pitch.”

“It’s accurate.”

I smile faintly. “I think I like it more than I expected.”

Her expression softens a little, less teasing now. “Good. And once I’ve taught you all the Buckhorn rules…”

“There are rules?”

“Of course.” Her tone turns mock serious. “For example, if Clara Jenkins at the bakery ever offers you pie ‘on the house,’ that means she’s decided you need either comfort or a husband.”

I laugh again, quieter this time. “Which one does she usually mean?”

“With Clara? Both.”

“Well, I better get out of here,” I say as the feed starts to get a little heavy.

“Text me if you ever want diner fries!”

“I don’t have your number.”

She blinks. “That does make texting harder.”

Five minutes later, after she has dramatically insisted on adding herself to my contacts as Penny New BFF, I head back toward the clinic.

I shift the box in my arms as I step back out onto Main Street, adjusting my grip so it doesn’t dig into my ribs. The sun’s climbed higher now, warming the pavement, and the town feels more awake than it did earlier.

I straighten my shoulders and start toward the clinic, mentally running through what needs to get done. Supplies stocked, charts updated, Mrs. Sanderson’s cat. Normal things. Predictable things.

Things that don’t involve…

Him.

My brain registers the sight of him before I can stop it.

Across the street. One boot hooked on the lower rail, hat low, talking to someone, but not really paying attention.

Clay.

Every muscle in my body locks.

No, absolutely not.

I turn my head so fast I nearly trip over my own feet.

Keep walking. Don’t look again. Do not, under any circumstances, make eye contact.

My heart’s already racing, which is ridiculous because nothing has happened. Nothing is happening. He hasn’t even seen me.

I think.

I risk the smallest glance.

Mistake.

He shifts slightly, like he might turn, so I pivot immediately.

Abort, run, escape…