He was about to jump awildcat.
* * *
Linx wipedthe sweat from her forehead as she took a break from cleaning the dog runs. The majestic peaks of the Sierra Nevada rose above the treeline, still white-capped at thetop.
She let the cool morning breeze sweep over her face and took a deep breath of the resin-scented air. This mountain community was her heritage, and she knew every inch of the backroads and trails coming off the mountain range. Her family was as old as the dirt in the hills and the rocks in therivers.
Colson’s Corner was founded by her great-great-great grandfather at the height of the Gold Rush, when nuggets of gold could be found ripe for the picking. He’d built the first series of sluices and owned the general store where he sold supplies to the miners. Once gold fever died down, her family stayed in the area, expanding into farming andranching.
The town was too far off the beaten track to attract the strip malls and chain stores that blighted other towns close by. The lack of cell phone signal in the remote cabins outside of town kept Colson’s Corner the gathering place where people came to check messages or find out about thenews.
Although lately, the phone company had been putting up towers designed to look like the giant sequoia trees native to the region. Just the other day, she’d been stopped behind a large utility truck blocking half of the road to put up a tower. There was no stopping progress, despite the old-timers who wanted to remain out oftouch.
Linx wasn’t sure what she thought about it. On the one hand, development could bring more people into the mountains and grow the economy, but with more people came more traffic and othernuisances.
Linx received a text from Grady.Sure thing. Let me knowwhen.
Bingo. He’d taken thebait.
She tucked the phone back into her pocket without replying. No matter what. She had to be in fullcontrol.
If he thought he could put stakes down in her town and run her out, he had another thing coming. Arrogant Grady Hart was not going to waltz into Colson’s Corner under the pretext of adopting dogs for veterans and drive her intohiding.
She was no longer in awe of the hotshot firefighter—the man with the death wish who would jump headfirst into a blazing forest fire and fill her nights with heat and smoke. Once, she’d crushed on him, believed in him, and counted onhim.
But he’d rejected her when she’d needed him most, and for that, he deserved to be burned and burnedbadly.
Oh, the heat and attraction still sizzled, and desire still held a torch betweenthem.
But this time would bedifferent.
This time, she would havecontrol.
She would twist and turn him inside and out, have him begging for more, and then she’d pulverize his heart the same way he’d destroyed herinnocence.
Linx finished hosing off the walkway and swept the debris over the redwood chips. It was time to let the dogs out of the barn and into the meadow for their dailyexercise.
After securing the front gate, she opened another gate leading to the fenced-in field of green grass andwildflowers.
The dogs were excited, yapping and barking, jumping up and down as she channeled them from their pens through a series of parallel fences to the exerciseyard.
Linx patted Bob, the old bulldog, who waddled after the younger dogs. “I bet your idea of a good day is to sleep under a desk or beside anarmchair.”
The elderly dog panted as she petted him, enjoying the little bit of love she bestowed onhim.
Truthfully, she loved all of her rescues, and she spent a lot of time taking them on wilderness walks. She groomed them, did first aid on them, and sang tothem.
Linx looked after the dogs. Most of them ran in groups, herding into packs, with Cedar front and center, leading the game of chase. But that new one, the German shepherd pitbull stood off by himself. He sniffed around the fence posts, marking them. He’d been neutered late in life, maybe after siring a litter ofpuppies.
“I wonder what your story is?” Linx muttered after the silent but strong male dog. She couldn’t help comparing him to Grady Hart—a loner who had trouble connecting to people, despite being a middle child in a large family—just likeher.
Linx wandered back into the cabin to do the dreaded paperwork which came with running acharity.
“I hear the doorbell,” Tami said from her desk as soon as Linx stepped through thebackdoor.
The problem with Tami was she hated getting off the chair. She’d gone to college and was an English major, and she was as smart as a whip. Her dream was to revive Colson’s Corner’s Gold Rush past as well as bring in newbusiness.
“I’ll get it.” Linx answered the door. It was Jessie Patterson, the five-year-old daughter of the town’s pastor. “Did you come to see thepuppy?”
