Soul Mates

“Thanks, Katy, I’m glad to hear you’re in my corner, even if you didn’t wallop Lester upside the head. So…will you come with me tonight?”

Nate could tell by the way she sidestepped that she was still reluctant to break her habit of avoiding men. Nate reached out slowly, so as not to startle her, then took her hand in his.

“I doubt that anyone else in town would accept the invitation, me being a no-account drug lord who has surrounded himself with hoodlums and headquartered at my house where I keep a former law official under my roof. But I really would like to show off the place to someone. I really would like for that someone to be you, Kat.”

“Okay,” she said finally. “But just for a little while. I’m sure Tammy has homework, so I don’t want to keep her out late.”

Another small victory, Nate thought as he strode over to grab a hot pad so he could scoop up the casserole. Although he had developed the Midas touch when it came to financial investments, his profits seemed insignificant in comparison to coaxing Katy from her house, to spend time with him.

How far do you plan to take this crusade of yours, Nate? he asked himself on the way to his car. Given the rumors circulating around Coyote Flats, Katy might catch flack because of her association with you. For God’s sake, don’t hurt her more than she’s already been hurt!

Nate wondered if maybe he had jumped the gun by trying to draw Katy from her hermitage so soon after his return. Maybe he should have waited until he had earned the trust and acceptance of the citizens first—if ever. Maybe Fuzz was right in criticizing his methods and strategy of constructing a branch office of Sunrise Oil Company in town without announcing ownership. Maybe he had screwed up after only a week in his hometown.

Yet, one look at Katy slumped on the bucket seat renewed his determined resolve. Teaching Katy to live again had become his number one priority. If he had to take on the lynch mob, commandeered by Lester Brown and his sidekick, then he would. Nate owed Katy for building up his ego all those years ago, for believing in him, for offering her innocence to him with such extraordinary trust and affection.

Somehow, he was going to make this work, he told himself. Even if Lester had the citizens of Coyote Flats believing the devil incarnate had returned to town, hurling pitchforks and breathing fire, he was going to give this economically strained town the boost it needed.

Of course, there was a strong possibility that he would have to drag the residents—kicking and screaming—every damn step of the f—

Nate came to a mental halt. He was not going to start slinging around derivatives of the F word, just because he had returned to his old stomping ground. He had reinvented himself and he was not—repeat not with great emphasis!—going to backpedal.

“Every blessed step of the way,” he corrected himself aloud.

Katy stared curiously at him. “Pardon?”

“Nothing.” Nate flashed a grin. “I was just talking to myself. Now, give me directions to Skinny Alice’s place. I can’t wait to take a gander at the male magnet you claim she has become.”

Katy watched Alice Rother Phelps recoil in the doorway of her expensive brick home when she realized who was standing behind Katy. “N-Nate Channing?” she stuttered, wide-eyed.

Katy felt the fierce need to protect Nate from Alice’s stunned reaction. Nate had been hurt enough by the citizens of this town. Knowing she was the reason Nate had been sent away left Katy feeling personally responsible for ensuring that he was granted a new start in Coyote Flats.

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