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Chapter One
Kylee glanced up as the door to Shots opened. Her pulse leaped and her legs tightened, ready to run. Ice-cold fear engulfed her, twisting her insides and making her lungs ache. An older gentleman shuffled in, tipping his well-worn cowboy hat in greeting before heading to the poker game taking place in the back corner. He was one of Cutter’s friends, someone she’d seen before. Her nod was stiff, but her grip on the counter eased. She pulled in a deep breath, then blew it out, steadying herself. We’re safe. At least she didn’t freeze up anymore—or duck behind the counter. She was making progress.
The old man made his way across the scarred wooden floor to the group of men hunched over their beers and several decks of cards. A chorus of rough and creaky greetings welcomed the newcomer as he pulled a chair back to join them. Nothing to fear there. She took a deep breath, a slight smile on her lips.
Three wonderfully uneventful weeks had passed since she and her little brother, Shawn, arrived in Stonewall Crossing. Each day she woke up anticipating the worst. And each night she went to bed happy to be wrong. If Jesse or one of his low-life associates really wanted to find her, they would have by now. Her gaze wandered to the door again.
As if thinking about Jesse would somehow make him appear. That was ridiculous. She tossed her rag onto the bar and rubbed vigorously. She was sick and tired of jumping at her own shadow.
“You look ready to bolt.” The voice startled her so much she dropped the rag. And jumped a good foot into the air.
“Dr. Boone.” She pressed a hand to her chest as she stared at the man leaning against the end of the bar.
“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He added, “And it’s Fisher, Kylee. Only my patients get to call me Dr. Boone.”
The thudding of her heart still echoed in her ears. “Your patients? As in, the dogs and cats?”
“I speak fluent dog and cat. It’s a vet thing.” He nodded, not cracking a smile. “My bird’s a little rusty, though.”
She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “When did you get here?”
Fisher stooped, picking up the rag and handing it to her. “I followed Ol’ Pete in.”
When she was having a minor panic attack. She nodded, working hard to pull herself together. The obvious concern on Fisher’s face surprised her. She didn’t like it. No one had ever worried over her. She didn’t need anyone to start now. “Beer?” she asked.
“Sounds good.” He was watching her—a little too closely for her liking.
She kept her eyes on his beer as she popped the top off a longneck and slid it across the counter toward him. “Good day, Doc?” she asked
. Small talk was always a good distraction.
“No complaints.” He shrugged. “You?”
“Just starting,” she returned, flipping the switch that powered the wall of fluorescent beer and pool signs. The colored lights brightened the room and her mood.
The door opened to three women, chatting animatedly.
“Hey, Kylee.” Janet was the only one Kylee knew by name. “Looks like we beat the rush.”
“Can we have a round of beers?” one of the women asked, commandeering a table in front of the picture window that overlooked part of Stonewall Crossing’s Main Street. “Bottles,” she added.
“Please and thank you, Kylee.” Janet winked.
Kylee was already popping the tops and putting them up on the counter.
Janet turned to Fisher. “Hey, Fisher, how’s it going?”
From the way Janet got all giggly over Fisher’s easy grin, it was clear Janet thought he was cute. And maybe he did have a nice grin, but that didn’t amount to much. Kylee wasn’t sure what to make of the hulking veterinarian. He was a little too tall and a little too broad. And he was nice—too nice. It made her nervous.
“Saving the world, one shih tzu at a time.” Fisher saluted Janet with his beer.
“If I was single, Fisher Boone, I’d say you were the perfect man.” She shook her head, laughing. “All big and muscle-y and a tender heart.”
“That’s me—a lover not a fighter.”
Janet laughed. “You’re adorable.”
“I work hard at it,” Fisher shot back.
Kylee glanced at Fisher, amused in spite of herself. He bobbed his eyebrows at her, trying to include her in the joke. So he had a pleasant grin. And a sense of humor. But something about him set off warning bells. She ignored Fisher and said, “Janet, can you let your friend know we finally got that hard apple stuff she wanted to try.”
“My friend?” Janet asked.
Kylee nodded. “From last week?”
“Oh, that one.” Janet rolled her eyes. “You mean Winnie.”
Kylee shrugged. The only thing she remembered about the woman was the ass chewing she got for not having some hard cider drink. When Kylee ordered new stock, she made sure to get some. Cutter told her to make customers happy, plain and simple. She wasn’t about to argue with the man who’d turned her life around—even if the customer in question was a witch.
“She’s not really a friend. But she’s not exactly the type you want to make an enemy. When she wants to go out for a drink, you go.” Janet took the beers and headed back to the table. “But I’ll tell her.”
“Janet speaks the truth.” Fisher chuckled. “Beware Winnie Michaels.”
Kylee wiped out a few glasses, getting ready for the regular after-work crowd. “Anyone else I should beware of?” She glanced at him again, trying not to let the weight of his steady green eyes bother her.
