Just in case, she mentally went through herNot-to-Love List.Designed to save her in situations like this, where her mind mattered more than her heart—that only got her into trouble.And trouble was the last thing she needed when she had a job to do.
Let’s see, Porter was an incredibly laid-back lawman.That’s a red flag right there.Easygoing meant unreliable.Strike one.
Good.
Financially independent—but on a lowly cop’s salary.Which also put him into the territory of beingmarried to the job, like Finn.Strike two and three.
Good.Really good.
Porter was also a slob.She hated the disrespect he showed the uniform in the way he’d casually stroll into the police station while in various stages of getting dressed.She had yet to see his work boots polished, and his uniform never saw an iron.How his superior officer let Porter get away with it was impossible to fathom.And that was a big slash off her list, as a big fatno!
Which meant he’d be impossible to live with.
But…
He had a stable.
And a room that came with the stable for a horse she hadn’t yet seen.It was stupid to even contemplate such a thing.Especially when she wasnotgoing to buy a horse.
Nope.Not gonna happen.
Besides, living with Porter would only become fuel for the town’s local gossip.
‘It’s a small town, Amara.And no,’ said Craig, ‘it wasn’t Porter who told me about Finn.I haven’t seen Porter today.’
‘Who, then?’
‘One of the stockmen, camping in the back of the pub, spotted Porter carrying Finn to the troopy, and then gallantly drop you back twenty minutes later.So your reputation as the untouchable duchess is safe.’
She rolled her eyes.‘Hey, you knew Finn before he was a cop?’
‘As a stockman, sure.’He then patted her shoulder.‘Don’t worry, Amara.Finn will bounce back.Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll pass.All he needs is another job, or is he still obsessing over the Stock Agent?’
In all honesty, both Amara and Finn were obsessed in their hunt for the elusive Stock Agent, now responsible for two known cases of stock smuggling.Genetic materials were so much harder to chase down than a truckload of stolen steers.
‘Here we are, sir.’Amara passed Finn his coffee.He’d barely said two words to her this morning, with his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses and his black stockman’s hat topping off the ensemble.
Finn nodded at Craig.
Who nodded back in some secret stockman’s language that usually came with a caveman’s grunt.
‘Is this your first livestock auction, Amara?’Craig asked.
‘In Elsie Creek it is.’
She took a sip of her coffee.It was top notch, despite coming from a food van.She’d become their first customer every morning for breakfast and coffee to take on her way to work.And she loved that walk down the main street in the morning.
After months of working on the road with Finn, before settling in this town, Amara had discovered she had a thing for small-town main streets.Somehow, the whole place had that homely, cosy feeling—like freshly mowed lawns and sprinklers ticking in summer.Except this town came with a friendly water buffalo named Cecil, who greeted her daily wearing a headdress of flowers and ribbons.
And yet she was still an outsider, with a job to do.
Craig nodded to someone in the crowd, then tossed out that laconic, one-fingered salute they all did driving past each other on back roads.‘The Elsie Creek Auction is a lot different from ones down south.’
‘I’m pretty sure you’ll find cattle and a lot more sheep in the southern auctions.’
‘I doubt they’d have buffaloes?’He pointed to the yard, filled with assorted water buffalo.‘But it’s more than that…’ His smile faded into something sullen.‘This small-town auction isn’t just about buying and selling livestock, Amara.It’s a heartbeat check for the district.’
‘How so?’
