Izzy stepped away from the archway and into the hallway that led toward the back offices. The music and curated laughter dulled with each step.
“Depends,” she said. “Am I in trouble?”
A low huff of amusement. “No.”
“I need a favor,” Burke said.
Something in his tone softened—less sheriff, more brother, more friend. It was the same voice he’d used the night they’d gotten Caitlin out, when he’d trusted Izzy with things he couldn’t put in a report.
Izzy’s grip on her phone eased. “What kind of favor?”
“Caitlin’s birthday is next week.”
Her throat went tight. Burke didn’t have to say her name twice to get her undivided attention.
“Okay,” she said, already smiling. “Now I’m listening.”
“I want to do something for her,” Burke said. “Not big. Just… right. And she’d kill me if she knew I called you.”
Izzy’s chuckle caught a little at the edges. “So this is a covert operation.”
“Something like that.”
“What do you need?”
“You here?” he said. “Before she knows about it. I don’t want her catching a whiff of this and getting anxious, so I’m not telling her anything. No cover story. I want her completely surprised.”
Izzy pictured Caitlin’s face—the shock, the way her eyes would go bright, the laugh that always came half a second after.
Her chest ached in a different way.
“I want her to have something good she doesn’t see coming for once.”
That did her in.
“Tell me what hotel to book and I’ll catch the next flight,” Izzy said.
“Hotel?” Burke sounded almost offended. “No. You’re not staying in a hotel.”
She smiled despite herself. “Then where am I staying?”
“You can stay with Grant.”
She blinked. “Your brother Grant?”
“That’s the one.”
She exhaled slowly. “The cowboy.”
“He’d love that description.”
“Caitlin’s used it,” she said. “More than once.”
“I’m sure she has.”
Izzy shifted her weight, already picturing it—land, horses, early mornings, a man who didn’t care about gallery openings or donor lists or anything that came with them.
Not her world. Not even close.
