“I want you to photograph Tornado.”
My entire body stiffens, my pulse skyrockets to a thousand, and I nearly stumble over my own two feet. Macy grips me tight against her, her looped arm the only thing keeping me upright.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say brushing my leggings as though I’d fallen in the dirt, looking anywhere but at my concerned friend.
Though Macy’s been back in town more than a month now, we’ve yet to talk about Oklahoma. Panic rushes me at the memory of my Nikon case resting near the coffee table the morning after Wyatt carried me into my apartment. Printed photos from that awful storm’s aftermath were scattered beside it.
He knows something’s up.
It’s no wonder I’ve been hyper fixated on him taking care of me and what it might or might not have meant. It’s easier to navigate a possible crush on one of my closest friends than face the past I sped away from. As long as it stays a thousand miles away where I left it, I’m safe. But if Wyatt’s piecing things together…
“You sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”
“Just lost my balance. Must’ve tripped over a rock or something.”
“Maybe we should get some coffee in you first,” Macy says, chuckling. “You’ll need your wits about you around Tornado.”
“Yes.” I agree, pivoting toward the main house. After a minute of silence, I say, “I didn’t know you named the little guy Tornado.”
“When you see him, you’ll understand,” Macy says, no trace of the earlier concern in her tone. My stiff shoulders drop, but before my nervous system can fully relax, Macy adds, “I was hoping you could take some pictures of all the animals, actually. For the website we’re building.”
“I don’t think I’ll have time?—”
“I’ll help you unpack,” Macy insists, her way of calling bullshit on my excuse. “We need the website up and running to help us get approved as a nonprofit.”
I could tell my bestie the real reason I don’t want to take pictures, but that would require a level of vulnerability I refuse to access.It’s for a good cause, you idiot. Just say yes.
“How about tomorrow night?” I suggest, remembering that Wyatt’s coming over to assemble furniture then. It’d probably be best to have a buffer so I don’t do something completely stupid around the man, like throw myself at him. Win-win. “I’m putting your brother to work too.”
“Perfect. I’ll bring pizza.”
CHAPTER 4
Wyatt
“I’ve got a slice of French silk pie with your name on it, Sheriff,” Jean James says as I slip onto a stool at the front counter ofThe Cow’s Moo.
“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” I say as Jean fills a mug with hot coffee and slides it to me.
“I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Thanks, Jean.”
My gaze scans the diner, partially on police instinct, but mostly for signs of a certain feisty blonde. It doesn’t matter that I know Everleigh’s not working today. Everywhere I go, I automatically search for the woman who’s had a vice grip on my heart for months now.
I haven’t seen her since Macy whisked her away at the ranch yesterday, and dammit if it doesn’t feel as though literal years have lapsed since I discovered her in the nearly see-through tank top and black shorts that were definitely panties. I had to stroke my cocktwicelast night to get an ounce of fucking sleep after that encounter.
Get your mind out of the gutter, Knight.
“I just made this pie this morning,” Jean says, sliding a plated slice of French silk pie and a fork to me.
“This looks amazing.”
As it’s too early for the main dinner crowd, the place is mostly empty aside from an unfamiliar young redheaded woman and little girl with matching hair in two long braids sitting in a corner booth. Considering the sedan with the Pennsylvania license plate in the parking lot, I’d guess they’re just passing through—probably on a road trip to Disneyland or Glacier or some such place—and stopped at the promise of ice cream.
Two older women who frequent the local bingo nights sit at a table beside a window, quietly chatting and sipping coffee. Delma Banks and Ester Thompson. I wonder if they might know something about what happened to Walter Smalley. Paps only knew that he’d been taken to the hospital in the middle of the night and never came back. Whatever happened, the grandson stepped in and made all the decisions from that point forward.
