by Liz Isaacson
“We have a washer and dryer here too. We could get your clothes dry.”
Dahlia wandered a little closer, her boots squeaking against the hard floor as she continued to drip water everywhere. “How big is this place?”
“Pretty big,” he said. “We used to come up here for family vacations in the winter.”
“All nine of you?”
“Eleven,” he said. “My parents came too.” He flashed her a smile, glad he didn’t have to explain to her about his huge family. She used to be one of the patrol officers in the Brush Creek Police Department, and she was well-acquainted with Dawn especially. His wildest sister, Dawn had gotten in the most trouble growing up.
But Kyler didn’t know Dahlia Reid. He just knew of her, the same way she knew of him and his family.
“Do you think there might be something I can change into while my clothes go through the wash?” Dahlia ran her fingers through her hair, combing some water from the curly ends.
Kyler stared at her, sure she was a dark-haired angel straight from heaven. His mind seemed stuck on someone he’d known about but had never seen.
“Kyler?” she asked, cocking her head to the side and training those dark as pitch eyes on him.
He shook himself out of this stupor and said, “Oh, yeah, probably.” The scent of a too-hot pan met his nose and he hurried to turn down the heat under the grill pan. “Let’s see, um, my sisters used to sleep in the first couple of rooms just down that hall. Feel free to look around and see what you can find.”
Dahlia flashed him a brilliant smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and turned toward the hall that led to the back of the cabin. She disappeared through the doorway, and Kyler stared at the ground beef and picked up a handful of it to make burgers.
“Idiot,” he whispered. “You should’ve gone with her to find some clothes.” But he couldn’t go charging after her now. He adjusted the flame under the grill pan and got the meat sizzling.
BB yipped, but Kyler ignored him. The dog’s claws clicked on the countertop and he paced, paced, paced back and forth, giving a gargled yip every time he turned.
“I know,” Kyler said, keeping an eye on the arched doorway that led to the hall. “I should’ve gone to help her.” With all the burgers on the grill, he washed up real quick and rounded the peninsula in the island in favor of approaching the hall.
“Detective?” he called, slowing his steps as he neared the first doorway that led to a bedroom where his sisters used to sleep. The noise from the hail quieted the farther he moved into the cabin, and he listed for Dahlia’s reply.
“Dahlia?” He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.
“Coming,” she called. A few seconds later, the next door down opened and she came out, her fingers still working through her hair. A smile ghosted across her mouth. “I found a few things that will do.”
She wore a pair of loose pajama pants the color of mint toothpaste, and a T-shirt that had a bright red U on it for the University of Utah. Both items were too big and hung off her lithe frame. She might be thin, but she was wiry, strong, and tough. At least if his brother-in-law Tate was to be believed.
Dahlia had trained Tate when he’d first come to town, right before she was made detective for the Unified Police Unit that covered several of the small towns out here west of Vernal.
And that was the bulk of what Kyler knew about her. What he wanted to know seemed bottomless, and he quirked a smile at her. “Where are your wet clothes? I’ll get them going. And I’ve got dinner started.”
“Will there be cheese on the burgers?” She stepped back into the bedroom and returned a moment later with an armful of her wet clothes.
“Of course,” he said.
“Good.” She smiled at him and pushed the clothes into his hands as she passed. “I love cheese.”
He chuckled and followed her back into the front part of the house, where the large living room attached to the dining room and the kitchen where he’d been working spread before him.
“Make yourself at home.” He went through the door closest to the bar and opened the washing machine. The cupboard above the appliance held the detergent pods, and he got her laundry started.
He paused in the doorway to find her sitting on the couch, her back to him, her fingers plaiting her hair as she hummed. The song tickled something in his memory, but he couldn’t quite place it.
The scent of cooking beef met his nose and he lunged around the peninsula and flipped the burgers, the pan hissing and spitting when the juices and raw meat met the hot surface. If he let them go longer than another sixty seconds, they’d be overdone.
He unwrapped the cheese quickly and splashed a bit of water on the grill pan and placed a big lid over the burgers to get the cheese nice and melty. He hadn’t had time to get any of the toppings ready, but he flipped the flame off under the grill pan and removed the burgers to a plate to rest.
He’d never had a problem talking to women, and he sliced tomatoes as he asked, “So, Dahlia, where are you from?” He wasn’t sure of her exact age, but she had to be close to his thirty-five. And she hadn’t grown up here in Brush Creek.
“Vernal.” She looked over her shoulder. “My parents still live there.” Dahlia got up and sauntered over to the counter and leaned against it. “Can I help?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” he said, reaching for the head of lettuce. “Do you have siblings?”
“Nope. Just me.” Her smile seemed tight around the edges, and Kyler turned away from her to get out the ketchup, mustard, and mayo from the fridge.
“Toasted bun or no?”
“It’s fine as-is.”
“Then we’re ready to eat.” Kyler wasn’t sure how long the storm would last, but when he glanced out the window, it was definitely still coming down strong. “At least the hail’s stopped.”
“Yeah.” Dahlia started doctoring up her bun and Kyler copied her.
“So why were you out here?” he asked, knifing some mayo from the jar.
“Police business,” she said, her tone guarded.
“Police business?” Surprise bolted through him. “Out this far?”
Dahlia lifted her eyes to meet his, no fear or hint of frustration in them at all. Her expression was quite unreadable and it sparked something deep inside Kyler’s chest.
“Yes, out this far.” Her words carried a double meaning, and Kyler got the hint.
None of your business.
Dahlia turned away and took her burger to the long picnic-style table in the dining room. Kyler wanted to ask more questions, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to see Dahlia get upset. So he zipped his lips—except to open his mouth and take a big bite of his burger.
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Read More by Liz Isaacson
Love Brush Creek and the Fuller family and want to stay here? Great! Read THE DETECTIVE’S DATE, Book 4 in the Fuller Family in Brush Creek Romance series.
Have you read the Brush Creek Cowboys? They’re all cowboys. Former rodeo stars. Start with BRUSH CREEK COWBOY.
Love these family sagas? Read about 4 brothers at a horse farm in Vermont in the Steeple Ridge Romance series. Start with HER RESTLESS COWBOY.
Like cowboy billionaires? Start the Seven Sons Ranch series with RHETT’S MAKE-BELIEVE MARRIAGE.
About Liz
Liz Isaacson is a USA Today bestselling author and a Top 30 Kindle All-Star Author. She is the author of the #1 bestselling Three Rivers Ranch Romance series, the #1 bestselling Horseshoe Home Ranch Romance series, the Brush Creek Brides series, the USA Today bestselling Steeple Ridge Romance se
ries (Buttars Brothers novels), the Grape Seed Falls Romance series, the Christmas in Coral Canyon Romance series (Whittaker Brothers and Everett Sisters novels), the Quinn Valley Ranch Romance series, the Last Chance Ranch Romance series, and the Seven Sons Ranch in Three Rivers Romance series.
She writes inspirational romance, usually set in Texas and Montana, or anywhere else horses and cowboys exist. She lives in Utah, where she teaches elementary school, taxis her daughter to dance several times a week, and eats a lot of Ferrero Rocher while writing.
Learn more about all her books here. Find her on Facebook, BookBub, Amazon, and her website.
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COWBOY VALENTINE
A Christian Cowboy Romance Collection
by Liz Isaacson
Copyright © 2020 by Elana Johnson, writing as Liz Isaacson
Published by AEJ Creative Works
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Cover and interior design by AEJ Creative Works