Courted By The Cowboy

“Kylee,” Cutter waved her toward the admissions desk. “This is Donna. She’s looking to retire in...?”

“Right before Christmas. Five months, two weeks and about seventy hours,” Donna said, shaking Kylee’s hand. “Cutter said you might be interested in applying for the position?”

“That’d be cool.” Shawn nodded, his blue eyes inspecting the waiting room and check-in desk. “Learn about helping animals and stuff.”

“It is pretty cool.” Donna winked at Shawn before turning back to Kylee. “Money’s not bad. Hours are regular, rarely any overtime—that falls to the student workers who come on in the evenings for emergency duty. You get school holidays, which is nice when you have family.” She winked at Shawn. “It can get a little hairy now and then, but I guess working at the bar you’ve seen it all. Oh, and you get health care and retirement, too. And tuition reimbursement, if you want to go back to school.”

Kylee was speechless. She had no intention of applying for this job. But hearing the laundry list of reasons why she should apply gave her pause. A real job? Health benefits, normal hours, and vacation time with Shawn. She glanced at her brother, who was looking at her. She knew that look, that how-can-you-say-no? look. How could she say no?

She shook her head. She didn’t have a vehicle, for one, and it would be a long walk from the bar to the vet hospital. “I’m not so sure,” she spoke up. “I don’t have much experience with computers. Or animals.”

“I’d train you. It’s not hard—most of the programs are tailored for the school. You just gotta stay on top of things.” Donna shrugged. “And be nice to customers. They’re real uppity about being nice to the customers.”

Which was another problem. Kylee was civil but nice was a stretch.

Shawn snorted. “Never mind.”

Donna and Cutter laughed, too.

“Hey.” But she was smiling, too. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am.” Shawn stared around the lobby. He was clearly impressed. But then, he hadn’t spent much of his life in a place this interesting—or clean. “You should work here.”

Her gaze followed his, taking in the detailed mural that ran around the top of the waiting room. It was gorgeous, a rainbow of subtly faded colored animals. Between the fish tank and the sliding glass doors into the clinic, there was a light and airy openness. Maybe that was why she felt nervous? The bar was dim and small, easier to hide in. She knew to be on guard and what to look for. But here? Working here would put her on display, front and center. Easy to find, if someone was looking.

“Just in case.” Donna slid several sheets of paper across the counter. “Here’s the application.”

Shawn nudged her until she picked up the papers. “Thanks.”

“Better be gettin’ back,” Cutter interrupted. “Got a bar to run.”

* * *

THE WEEK FLEW BY. Fisher was in charge of the spay clinic on Tuesdays and neuter clinic on Thursdays. Wednesday and Friday classes were followed by afternoon clinical rotations. Every day he checked on Kylee’s sweet-natured stray. The clinic had named him Chance—because he’d been given a second chance. He hadn’t lost the eye, but he had lost most of his ear. His back leg wasn’t broken, but the tissue and skin had been badly damaged. Chance had more stitches than Fisher cared to count. The dog would heal, but his gait would probably always be a little off. All things considering, Fisher was pleased things had turned out so well.

By the time quitting time rolled around Friday, he was glad he didn’t have emergency duty that weekend. His thumb was better, but still tender. And next week he’d need full range of motion to handle Goliath for his post-op visit. He and the giant rottweiler didn’t see eye to eye when it came to who was alpha in the room. It didn’t help that Goliath’s hundred-pound owner spoiled the beast. But it was time to check the damn dog’s pins and he was the only doctor who would still work with him, so resting his thumb was necessary.

Besides, a few days off from the hospital was a good thing. Not that his father would let him sit around and do nothing. Nope, Teddy Boone had a never-ending list of things to be done on the ranch. Cutting cedar, replacing fence stays, grading the back road that had washed out during the winter rains and rounding up calves were on the old man’s agenda. But tonight Fisher was going to enjoy himself.

Every weekend Cutter opened the dance hall off the bar, bringing a good portion of Stonewall Crossing out to enjoy the live music and family-friendly atmosphere. His brother Ryder had invited the whole family to the Shots dance hall that night.

His brothers—minus Archer—their wives and his cousins from Montana would all be there. Ryder’s wife, Annabeth, was getting close to delivering their twins so there weren’t a lot of nights out in their future. Annabeth wasn’t really up to dancing, but he suspected Ryder and their young son, Cody, were trying to cheer her up. She’d been pretty uncomfortable the last few weeks.

Knowing he’d see Kylee was an added incentive. She was a prickly little thing, someone he didn’t understand—yet. But that hadn’t stopped him from thinking about her throughout the week or hoping he’d see her when she checked in on Chance.

“Eye’s lookin’ better,” Cutter greeted him as he walked into the bar.

“Thanks. Feelin’ a bit better, too.” Fisher smiled.

“Here’s hoping this weekend is downright uneventful,” Cutter laughed.

“No arguments from me,” Fisher agreed, heading through the open doors and into the dance hall in back.

Most of his family was there already, crowded together around two tables. They smiled, waving him over.

“What happened to you?” Renata, his twin sister, was on her feet. “And why didn’t I know about it?” She frowned at her brothers.

“Nothing to tell, really.” Fisher hugged her.

“Way I hear it, he took one in the eye for Archer.” Ryder, the youngest Boone, grinned.

“First his roommate, now his stunt double,” his cousin Tandy said, wincing and shaking her head. “Archer owes you big time, cuz.”

“I’m with Tandy. Being the oldest means I have to look out for all of you, but—” his big brother, Hunter, pointed at Fisher’s eye “—taking a punch to the face for Archer is going above and beyond brotherly duty.” Hunter grinned. “I’m betting Archer didn’t shoulder much guilt over it. Or is he coming to buy you a thank-you beer later?”

“Nope,” Ryder shook his head. “He bowed out, something about some new something-or-other at the refuge needing his attention.”

“He needs a girlfriend,” Renata sighed.

Fisher, Ryder and Hunter burst out laughing.

“Hey, Fish— Your face!” Annabeth, Ryder’s very pregnant wife arrived, almost dropping the pitcher of water she carried.

“He’s fine, princess.” Ryder stood and pulled a chair back for her. “Don’t get yourself all worked up.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

“What are we laughing over?” Josie, Hunter’s wife, joined in. “I’m assuming it’s not Fisher’s face?”

“Sort of.” Hunter kissed his wife’s cheek.

“I was just saying Archer might benefit from the company of a lady friend,” Renata offered.

“What about the new bartender?” Annabeth asked. “She’s gorgeous.”

“She is, at that.” Toben, his cousin and Tandy’s twin, tipped his beer bottle at the bar. “I don’t think Archer could handle that one.”

“Kylee and Archer? As a couple?” Fisher asked before he could stop himself. He didn’t like the way Toben was looking at her. He heard the shock in his voice, and so did everyone else around the table. He didn’t miss the grins the women exchanged.

“Kylee, huh?” Hunter piped up, hiding his smile behind his beer.

Ryder was looking at him wide-eyed. “Huh,” he murmured before craning his neck to see the bar at the back of the room. “Where is she?”

“Working at the back bar,” Annabeth answered. “Long black hair. Biggest blue eyes. Other than yours, of course.” She grabbed Ryder’s chin and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Fisher watched, seeing the satisfied smile on his little brother’s face. His brother, the player...he never thought he’d see his brother so happily settled, but then Fisher had never had a woman look at him the way Annabeth was looking at Ryder. “Guess I’ll get a beer,” he mumbled, pushing himself up from his chair.

Which led to a few giggles from the women.

He didn’t respond as he made his way across the dance hall, smiling and exchanging pleasantries as he went.

Kylee didn’t see him, she was busy filling mugs and popping tops off beer bottles. Cutter didn’t serve hard liquor when the dance hall was open—only beer, water and soda. Cutter said it kept things from getting out of control and was more family friendly.

“What can I—?” She paused, her gaze meeting his. She caught sight of his face and wrinkled her nose.

“Evening, Kylee,” he said, smiling.

“Doc.” She nodded. “How’s the dog?”

“Getting stronger. Jarvis said you’ve stopped by a couple of times. Sorry I missed you.” He smiled. “You should come see him again. Nothing perks a fella’s spirits up like a visit from a pretty lady.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He held his hands up. “He told me to say that.”

“He? As in, the dog?” Kylee asked, smiling even though he could tell she tried like hell not to.

“Yep.” He nodded. “The dog.”

“Good to know he’s feeling well enough to talk.” She shook her head, looking uncomfortable as she murmured, “Thank you for looking after him.” She was pretty when she blushed. Who was he kidding? She was pretty all the time. Especially when she wasn’t frowning at him.

“Hey, lady, can we get a beer?” someone called from the other end of the bar.

“Cutter got you workin’ alone?” he asked.

“Joni called in sick.” Kylee shrugged. “Meaning her boyfriend is in town. Bobby’s coming in about an hour.” And with that, she went back to work.

“How’d I know I’d find you here?” Jarvis asked, sitting on one of the bar stools. “You should know, your whole family is watching.”

“More reason to stay here.” He sighed.

“Fisher,” Kylee called out, sliding his preferred beer down the bar toward him.

He grabbed the bottle—even though he hadn’t told her what he wanted. He shouldn’t read too much into it. She was a good bartender and he’d been a regular customer. That’s all. A bartender who was working...so he should leave her alone and stop giving his family a reason to talk.

“Feel free to join me.” He pointed to his family. “My cousins are new in town. I can introduce you to Tandy, if you promise to behave.”

“Making no promises,” Jarvis said.

Fisher took his beer, trying to dodge a group of kids—his nephew Eli, Hunter’s son, included—and stepped back, bumping into something. He turned to find a boy bent over, collecting papers and shoving them into a notebook.

“Sorry, mister,” the boy murmured, looking up at him.

“No problem.” He stooped beside the boy, picking up several papers. The boy liked horses; he’d drawn a lot of them. One in particular caught Fisher’s eye.

“I’ll meet you over there,” Jarvis said, leaving him for his very blonde, very pretty cousin.

Fisher nodded, still inspecting the sketch. “Did you draw these?”

The kid nodded, thick black hair flopping onto his forehead.

“These are really great.” Something about the kid was familiar. “Having fun?”

The boy’s smile was small, almost nervous, as his clear blue gaze met Fisher’s. “Yeah, I guess.”

He helped the boy pick everything up before offering the boy his hand. “Fisher Boone.”

The boy’s eyes went round. “You’re Doc Fisher?” The boy looked him up and down.

“Hey, Uncle Fisher,” Eli showed up. “Hey, Shawn.”

“Hey, yourself.” Fisher grinned at his nephew, then glanced back at the boy. “And who are you?”

“He’s Shawn, Kylee’s brother,” Eli offered up.

Shawn nodded in the direction of the bar. “The crazy dog-lady bartender. That’s my sister.”

Kylee had a little brother? It was obvious now. They both had black hair and blue eyes—and they both seemed nervous, wound too tight. What they were nervous about, he had no idea. Knowing she had a younger brother here with her was a surprise. Were they on their own? Shawn couldn’t be that much older than Eli. He had the gangly height and loose limbs of a boy on the cusp of manhood. Where were their parents?

“Nice to meet you,” Fisher said, glancing at Kylee. She worked with quick efficiency, at ease behind the bar. She was a puzzle, a beautiful puzzle. Meeting Shawn tonight reminded him there was a lot he didn’t know about her—a lot he wanted to know. “You’ve got a pretty cool sister,” he added.

Shawn nodded.

“Your face looks like it hurts, Uncle Fisher,” Eli said, shaking his head.

“You should see the other guy,” Fisher teased.

“Kylee said you knocked him out with one punch.” Shawn seemed impressed.

Fisher’s gaze returned to Kylee. So she’d told her brother. And while he didn’t want Shawn to think fighting was a good thing, he couldn’t deny it pleased him to know she had mentioned him to Shawn. She looked up then, her gaze searching the dance hall until she found Shawn. Fisher could see her relief from where he stood. Once more he pondered what would make her so anxious, almost like she was running from something. Or someone.

Her blue gaze met his. He lifted an eyebrow, pointing at Shawn with a grin. She smiled and it almost brought him to his knees. It was a real smile, given freely and withholding nothing. She loved her little brother with everything she had. And damn if he wouldn’t give everything to have her smiling over him like that.

“Fisher?” Eli waved a hand in front his face. “Fisher?”

He forced his attention from the beauty behind the bar. “What’s up?”

“What was the fight over?” Eli asked.

Fisher shook his head. “George Carson was upset and I was the one he decided to take it out on.”

“His mistake.” Shawn was looking at him with the same intensity Kylee had. “Sounds like a hothead.”

Fisher nodded, wondering how many hotheads were in Kylee and Shawn’s past.

“Come on.” Eli pushed Shawn’s shoulder. “You can draw later.”

Shawn shoved his sketchbook into the worn canvas bag slung over his shoulder. “Okay.”

“Y’all have fun.” Fisher smiled. “But stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” Eli said. Shawn nodded, giving his sister a quick wave. Fisher glanced back at Kylee, catching sight of her sweet smile again. When she smiled like that, he couldn’t do a thing but stare at her.

Renata joined him. “Looks like Archer’s out of luck,” she murmured.

Fisher frowned at his sister. “Aw, come on, Renata—”

“You might as well stop now. I know you, baby brother. You’re done for.” She was born three minutes before he was and loved to use her “seniority” when able. She patted his arm. “And if you keep looking at her like that, everyone’s going to know it. You’ve never had much of a poker face.”

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