by Laurel Kerr
Although she hated putting the baby puma down, she knew the little trio needed more than just a warm cuddle. “Did you bring something to carry the cubs back down the mountain with?”
Bowie grimaced and shook his head. “I didn’t know the climb would be so steep.”
And, Katie realized, she hadn’t given him time to grab something from his truck either. To her surprise, Bowie was too polite to point that out.
“Do you want me to run back to the house to get a backpack?” she asked.
Bowie shook his head. “We’ll have to improvise. I’m not sure how long the cubs have been without milk, and we need to get them out of this cave as soon as possible.”
Katie scanned the dirt floor of the alcove and saw nothing—not even a twig. She turned back to ask Bowie what he planned on using and stopped. He was halfway out of his shirt. Normally, Katie wouldn’t blatantly ogle a man, but…those abs. And pecs. His biceps flexed as he ripped his shirt down the middle so it made one thick band. Bowie Wilson might be just as bad for Katie as an entire carton of rocky road ice cream, but he looked just as temptingly scrumptious.
* * *
Bowie froze as he lifted his head and found the auburn-haired woman watching him as if she wanted to lick him all over. Something equally hot and elemental whipped through him. He’d never had this much of a visceral response to any woman. If it weren’t for the baby mountain lions, he might have been crazy enough to accept her unspoken offer…even if he didn’t know whether she’d jump him or push him down the cliff.
The lady—who he’d mentally taken to calling Red—might be showing an attraction to his body, but she didn’t appear to like him. At all. She reminded him a bit of the zoo’s honey badger, Fluffy—all snarls, bad temper, and teeth. In the wild, Fluffy’s relatives were known to take down king cobras, and Bowie couldn’t shake the feeling that Red viewed him as one giant snake.
Still, Red had looked soft, sweet even, while cuddling the runt of the litter against her breasts. Sugar and spice—that was Red. And damn if the combination didn’t intrigue him.
As a single father, Bowie should know better than to lust after a woman who was all fire one moment and pure honey the next. If he ever started dating seriously, he’d need an even-tempered partner who could handle the ups and downs of parenthood. He’d already dated one female chimera and learned a lesson about falling for someone with a dual personality. His high school girlfriend, Sawyer, had been classy and elegant with an outward poise that had impressed and intimidated the hell out of his teenage self. But inside, she had a childish mean streak that could strike at any time. She had never wanted anything to do with their daughter, and for that, Bowie was actually grateful. He loved his baby girl and wanted to protect her from the Sawyers of the world for as long as possible.
“Is that going to work?” Red asked, jerking her head toward his ruined T-shirt. She still snuggled the kit to her breasts as she peered at him.
“It should,” Bowie said, withdrawing his Leatherman from his pocket. He cut two slices near the bottom of his shirt and then tore them off to use as bindings. With the zoo’s piss-poor budget, he’d learned to find creative solutions with the supplies on hand. Within a few moments, he had jerry-rigged a semblance of a bag. He tested it with a few rocks first. Satisfied it would hold three pounds’ worth of wiggling cubs, he carefully placed the babies inside, including the one in Red’s arms.
“You always were smart.”
Bowie glanced up at Red. That hadn’t sounded like a compliment, but it wasn’t the only thing that confused him. She certainly acted like she knew him, but he still couldn’t place her.
“How do we know each other?” he finally asked.
She glared, looking every inch like an irate Fluffy during one of his particularly bad moods. “Think a little harder.”
Somewhere, a memory flickered. A fleeting glimpse of red hair. But then the recollection floated away, out of reach. Bowie shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. You seem familiar, I promise, but I just can’t remember from where.”
Rather than mollify Red, his words only fanned the flames shooting from her eyes. Still on her haunches, she spun around and then scrambled out of the cave. Sighing, he gathered his bundle of cubs and followed.
Bowie noticed that Red moved slower descending the cliff than she had going up, probably out of consideration for the cougars that he carried. When they reached the bottom of the rock formation, Bowie spotted Lou standing under the porch light next to a lady with the same fiery mane as Red’s. Instead of Red’s flowing cascade of curls, though, this woman’s hair formed a frizzy halo about her cherubic face. Something jangled in the back of Bowie’s brain, but before he could zero in on it, the older woman called out to Red, waving her hand cheerfully.
“Sweetheart, I was just telling Lou how you came back home to help out your father and me and that you’re looking for work.”
Red shot Bowie a sidelong glance and then spoke through gritted teeth. “I do have some paying projects, Mom.”
Lou, always the peacemaker, quickly added, “Helen was also telling me that you’re designing labels for Clara Winters’s granddaughter’s new jam business.”
So, Red was acquainted with June Winters, Bowie thought, although that clue didn’t help him much, since everyone in Sagebrush Flats knew June. The woman had breezed into town a little less than a decade ago and revitalized her family’s tea shop. What used to be the domain of little old ladies after Sunday church had become the local hot spot. Even the most taciturn ranchers stopped by for the fussy desserts and fancy drinks. Although June’s cooking was the best in town, the food wasn’t the only draw. It was the woman herself. June had long blond hair and eyes as green as the grass during the month after which she was named. But unlike her surname, Winters, her personality was as bright as a summer’s day. Bowie had stopped by the tea shop himself, but he much preferred Red’s earthy sexiness to June’s more classic elegance.
In response to Lou’s comment, Red’s mother bobbed her head like the zoo’s cockatoo, Rosie, when the bird was shaking her plume in time to her beloved punk rock. “Yes, and I told Lou how you redid the menus for June’s tea shop and that the Prairie Dog Café agreed to use the place mats you’re designing—the ones with ad space for local businesses.”
“Your mother thought you could help us with the zoo’s website and our general marketing strategy,” Lou said, looking first at Katie before he turned to address Bowie. “What do you think?”
“Well, it hasn’t been updated since before I started,” Bowie said carefully. Red looked like the zoo’s camel, Lulubelle, right before the animal spit. Clearly, Red didn’t appreciate her mother’s interference. Keeping his voice neutral, Bowie decided to give her an out. “How high are your fees? Our budget is pretty tight.”
Honestly, Bowie wouldn’t mind improving the zoo’s internet presence if he could do it at a reasonable cost. He and Lou needed something to draw folks through the gates. He’d never really had much of an artistic side, and unlike most of his generation, he sucked with computers. Except for the occasional use at school, he hadn’t had much access to them growing up. He certainly didn’t know anything about web design. But Bowie didn’t want to strong-arm Red into helping him, even if it would benefit the zoo.
“I’m sure my daughter would give you a discount,” Red’s mom said. “Wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
Red’s jaw clenched, and she was back to looking like a mulish honey badger. “Mom, Bowie and Lou haven’t even seen my work.”
“I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Lou said quickly. Too quickly. Bowie barely prevented a groan from escaping his lips as he turned from Lou to Red’s mom and then back again. This wasn’t just about building Red’s business or getting low-cost marketing advice. It was a matchmaking scheme, plain and simple. And from the way Red’s shoulders stiffened, she recognized it too.
Before Lou and Helen drove Red into finally losing her temper, Bowie turned to her and asked, “Why don’t you stop by the zoo tomorrow and bring some samples of your work? We can see if it will be a good fit for both of us.”
Before she could answer, her mother beamed. “That sounds like an excellent idea! Doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
Red made a sound that Bowie figured was supposed to be noncommittal, but it came out like a honey badger’s snarl.
Sensing the need for a diversion, Bowie turned to Lou and gestured to the bundle of squirming mountain lions. “Lou, do you want to check on the cubs?” Bowie asked. “I think they’re all right other than they’ll need milk as soon as we return to the zoo.” After Lou took the bundle from him, Bowie turned to Red and her mom to explain, “These little guys are going to need formula about every four hours.”
“Ooo,” Red’s mom said, “that sounds like a lot of work. Will you be looking for volunteers?” She turned to Red. “What do you think, sweetheart? Would you like to help care for them? You’ve always loved taking in strays.”
“Mom, I’m here to help you with Dad.”
Helen waved a hand dismissively. “He’s stronger now, and you’ve been so much help. It’s time you took a break and did something for yourself. We’ll be fine. You could even work on the zoo’s marketing while you watch the cubs.”
“Uh, we can talk about that tomorrow as well,” Bowie said as he quickly swiveled in Lou’s direction. “Are the cubs in good enough shape for the return trip?”
When Lou nodded, Bowie placed his hand on the older man’s upper arm and gently steered him to the truck before either he or Helen could attempt more matchmaking. Considering the zoo’s skeletal staff, Bowie couldn’t afford to turn down volunteers, but if anyone pushed Red further tonight, she would explode. Although he wouldn’t mind watching the fireworks from a safe distance, Bowie was a little too close to the danger zone. Plus, he and Lou really did need to get the cubs back to the zoo.
Waiting until Lou got settled in the truck, Bowie helped arrange the bundle of kits on his mentor’s lap. As Bowie climbed into the driver’s seat, Lou yawned and said, “Nice, sweet girl. Good family.”
Bowie grunted. He really wanted to learn Red’s name and hear what had brought her back to Sagebrush Flats, but he was afraid that any interest would just encourage Lou and Helen’s matchmaking. Maybe if he kept Lou talking, the information would come out naturally. As Bowie considered how to dig innocuously for more details, he heard a snore. A fond smile crossed Bowie’s face when he glanced over at Lou and realized the eighty-year-old had fallen asleep again.
Oh well. Regardless of who Red was, Bowie had a feeling that tomorrow’s meeting with her was going to be interesting.
* * *
Fluffy, the honey badger, stirred inside his man-made den. Night had fallen, and Fluffy preferred the dark to day. Light hurt his eyes, but that didn’t always stop him from leaving his enclosure to spy on the pesky humans when they were most active.
Fluffy didn’t mind the bipeds…much. The Black-Haired One did bring him lovely insects. Although the Gray-Haired One tended to poke and prod him, which Fluffy did not appreciate, he occasionally received a honey-covered bee larva for the annoyance. All in all, the humans were tolerable…not that Fluffy would ever admit it. He did like the Wee One. She always snuck him treats. True, she had saddled him with his ridiculous name, but she’d been a little thing back then, so he could forgive her.
Just then, Fluffy’s ears perked at an unusual noise for this time of night: the crunch of tires on the gravel path winding through the zoo. A loud sound bellowed through the air. Fluffy hissed. It was the Black-Haired One’s truck. It always made the most horrendous noises.
Fluffy stretched his long body, digging his claws into the dirt. Once his muscles felt suitably limber, he darted into his enclosure. The Black-Haired One had dug a large run and then cemented the sides to prevent Fluffy from climbing out. The silly biped thought that he could corral Fluffy when honey badgers were clearly much, much more clever than mere humans.
The Black-Haired One was in the process of digging the already four-foot-deep concrete barriers lower, but he hadn’t reached the west wall. Fluffy scampered over to that weak point and began to dig. It was not the most brilliant strategy, but it was effective. He tunneled quickly through the dirt, popping out on the other side. Keeping his flat, furry tail low, Fluffy scurried through the deserted zoo.
Most of the animals lay asleep, snug in their dens. He heard Lulubelle, the camel, snoring loudly above the llamas as he passed by their paddock. Making a hard right, he ran alongside the enclosure of Frida, the bear. The grumpy old grizzly growled when she caught wind of Fluffy. Fluffy grinned. He liked irritating the elderly bruin. Frida needed a bit of excitement to keep her spry…even if she didn’t always thank Fluffy for stealing pieces of her meat and poaching the berries that the Wee One brought.
Fluffy, however, had more important matters than just Frida tonight. A warm glow seeped from the zoo’s maintenance facility that housed both the feed and the animal hospital. Due to the presence of treats, Fluffy had a long history of invading the building. Climbing up the downspout, he hopped onto a narrow ledge. Slipping his sharp claws between the loose frame, he worked the window free and then wiggled through the small space he’d created. The silly human hadn’t figured out yet that the window was broken. Clinging to the drapery, Fluffy silently lowered himself to the floor and headed toward the light. Carefully, he peeked around a doorframe and spotted the Black-Haired One sitting cross-legged on the floor. Two little sausage-shaped fur balls crawled on the biped as a third cub drank greedily from a bottle. Fluffy could hear the hungry sucking sounds from across the room.
He watched with interest, his little black nose twitching. It wasn’t the kits that drew his attention, though.
No, it was the expression on the Black-Haired One’s face. He looked the way Fluffy felt when facing a challenge—a challenge with honey at the end of it.
Chapter 2
“And then she offered a discount. A discount! To my high school nemesis!”
“Katie,” June drawled in her Southern accent as she turned from the pot of jam on her stove, “you’re a grown woman. You don’t have nemeses. You are not a comic book character fighting aliens.”
“Well then, what do you call a guy who made your life miserable for three years?” Katie asked.
June smiled wickedly as she added fresh raspberries to the boiling mixture. “Why, I’d say he was just a peach, bless his little heart.”
Katie glared good-naturedly at her best friend. Even wearing a ridiculous hairnet, June looked radiantly regal with her perfect blond hair and tall, willowy body. June simply did not understand the cruelty of high school. She’d somehow avoided the awkwardness of the teenage years. Katie knew—she’d seen the photographic evidence. Despite June being a military brat, or maybe because of it, she had managed to become prom queen two years in a row at two different schools in two entirely different parts of the country.
It wasn’t just June’s looks either. As she would say in her Southern drawl, June just drew people like ants to molasses. The child of a second-generation airman, she had grown up all over the world—her mom’s home state of Georgia, then North Dakota, South Korea, Colorado, Germany, Florida, and New Mexico. She had a chameleonlike ability to blend into her surroundings and a way of putting all people at ease, no matter their backgrounds.
If Katie’s gran and June’s grandmother hadn’t arranged for them to be college roommates, Katie doubted they would ever have met. She certainly wouldn’t have attended the parties that June had dragged her to. In fact, her whole college experience would have been entirely different, since Katie would’ve spent it holed up in her dorm room. When June had convinced Katie to try a makeover, she’d done more than introduce Katie to the wonderful but complex world of hair product and conditi
oner. June had helped Katie discover her confidence.
Back in high school, Katie had looked a mess. A geek since the first grade, she had ended up clinging to the role as if it defined her. She’d never attempted to dress the way the popular girls did. And her hair, before June had taught her to tame it, had looked like a flaming bush, as Bowie and his girlfriend used to tease. It wasn’t until she met June that she realized a girl could be both nice to others and well dressed.
“Here, taste this.” June handed Katie a spoon filled with hot jam. Katie took it and blew on the mixture before popping it into her mouth. Decadent sweetness with a hint of tart heat exploded on her tongue. June had the same way with cooking that she had with people. She could combine the most unexpected ingredients to make something extraordinary.
“What’s in this one?” Katie asked.
“Fresh raspberries, my great-grandmother’s berry cordial, and a smidgen of cayenne pepper.” June leaned her elbows on the counter where Katie was sitting. “What should I call it?”
“Drunken Fire Berries,” Katie said, the image for the label already springing to her mind. She’d draw two reclining raspberries drinking from champagne glasses with little flames over their heads.
June clapped her hands. “I love it. I knew there was a reason I keep letting you into my kitchen.”
“Har. Har. Har,” Katie said, reaching for her sketchbook to create a mock-up of her idea for the tag.
“Do you want more jam for inspiration while you work?” June asked, putting some extra liquid into a bowl. Katie waited until the sample stopped steaming and then took a huge mouthful.
It was then that June made her strategic move. “You know, Katie, your mother may have a point.”
Unable to form a retort with warm jam filling her mouth, Katie glared at June.
“If you want to make a go of freelancing, you’ll need more clients than me and the Prairie Dog Café.”