by Laurel Greer
Her nose stung. Yeah, the morning had left bruises on her soul, but Asher’s were infinitely worse. “I’m happy to listen. Well, not happy. Because it’s obviously the most tragic thing you could go through, and—oh, for crying out loud.” Her cheeks heated. “You should be the one talking, not me.”
Talking? Try babbling. Good work, Maggie.
His bemused smile eased a little of her embarrassment. “He had cancer twice as an adult.”
“Oh...”
Bracing his fingers on his coffee cup, he stared at the black plastic lid. “He was a decade older than me.” The corner of his lips twitched. “I was so infatuated by the idea of an older partner. Anyway, we’d been dating for about three years—I was twenty-two. He was pretty on top of his health. Caught his thyroid cancer early. We went on with our lives.”
She did a bit of mental math based on knowing Caleb was almost forty and Asher was a few years younger. “You must have had Ruth not long after.”
He nodded. “Alex didn’t want to risk biological fatherhood because of his rounds of radiation and chemo, but his cousin in Connecticut was willing to be our surrogate with me as donor. All very clinical, that part. But we ended up with Ruth. Which...science is the best. She’s been nothing less than amazing since the day she was born. Parenting and marriage were a little out of order and complicated by a hell of a lot of paperwork and red-tape—and, let’s be honest, bigotry at times—but it was worth it.”
“Quite the journey.”
“Mmm-hmm. We weren’t expecting the lymphoma, though. We knew he faced a higher risk, but once he reached five years cancer-free, we really thought it wasn’t coming back.”
Tears stung her eyes again. Now it was her turn to want to reach for him, to lay a hand on his leg or arm so he knew she was hearing his pain. Her brain clamored to hold back, but she ignored the warning. She squeezed his bare forearm. His skin was warm against her fingers.
Surprise lit his eyes. He settled his palm over the back of her hand. “You, uh... Your hand is cold.”
“Takes me forever to shed my adrenaline response,” she said. “Plus being tired.”
He studied her face, his expression serious. “You don’t cancel your appointments when you’ve been up all night?”
“Not always. I wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.” Despite her exhaustion, she might need to rely on some melatonin tonight to keep away the visions of the grim surgery she’d witnessed.
“Well, drive safe when you’re on your way home.”
Her fingers were finally warm, sandwiched between his arm and palm. Did he realize he was essentially holding her hand?
Not that she cared either way. So long as he didn’t let go...
No, Maggie, you need to let go. Before he figures out you don’t really want to.
She slid her fingers out from his and forced a smile. Standing, she straightened her scrubs and took another drink of coffee. “I live literally across the street, so as long as I look both ways and don’t fall asleep on the yellow line, I’ll be okay.” She lifted the beverage. “And this’ll go far. Thank you so much.”
He smiled back and rose to his feet. Oh my, he was tall. And broad.
And everything else you can’t afford to notice.
She’d tried not to be cynical once. Told herself relationships could work, that they weren’t all cheating and lies like her parents’ marriage. She’d forced herself to be vulnerable, found a man who shared her hobbies and loved animals... Hadn’t loved her, though. She’d gotten home from work the day to find he’d abruptly left. Losing him had broken her heart. Losing Cleo had been like losing part of her soul. And she’d learned never to ignore her instincts again.
Instincts that never stopped shouting for her to keep her distance from love.
“When will you be starting the work?” she croaked.
“Wednesday evening. See you then?” He backed away a few steps.
“Oh, likely,” she said, waving as he smiled, saluted casually and headed for the hallway.
She couldn’t exactly avoid her workplace. But unless she was able to shed the desire to wrap her arms around his wide shoulders and cling to him until the emotional remnants of her long night faded, she’d best find somewhere else to be when he came back, hammer in hand.
Chapter Four
Maggie lit out of work as if she had a rampaging grizzly on her tail after her shifts on both Wednesday and Thursday, successfully managing to avoid Asher when he came in to work on the barn. And Friday night and Saturday weren’t an issue since he took that time off.
By Sunday, she was about to declare a ghosting victory for the week, when a client called her cell, interrupting her post-lunch attempts to train Jackson in her backyard.
“Maggie! Thank you for picking up, dear. I just—I’m in a pickle, and I need your help.”
Gertie Rafferty was a longtime Sutter Creek local and one of the more community-minded seniors in town. She was also Lachlan’s landlord, and the grandmother of Stella’s jerk of an ex-boyfriend. Maggie chose to ignore that particular connection just now.
“I’m just training Jackson, Mrs. Rafferty. What can I do for you?”
Gertie cleared her throat. “I was training Kittay to use the toilet, you see...”
“Uh, the litter box?”
“No, the toilet. I saw it on the internet, and it looked like an excellent idea. Now that we’re in the senior’s living community, I figured it better to have one less thing to clean up.”
“I’m afraid I’ve never trained a cat to use a toilet, Mrs. Rafferty. And it goes against feline instinct, so it’s not—”
“That’s not the problem, dear. Kittay got stuck in the toilet.”
Maggie stopped dead. “Say what?”
“She caught on quick like a bunny. Was on a streak of using it for a week straight. But then... She fell in. And it must have sent the water level high enough to trigger the auto flush, because I heard this awful yowling, and when I went into the bathroom, Kittay’s hind leg was down the crapper.”
“I—” Maggie cleared her throat. This was certainly a first. “Were you able to get her out? Does she need care?”
“Well, I called my grandson.”
Maggie held in a growl at the mention of the Sutter Creek sheriff. He’d get some ribbing about this one at the station. Good. His long-ago actions meant Maggie and Lachlan had been limited to a long-distance relationship with their older half-sister since high school. Ryan Rafferty deserved every bit of grief thrown his way. “Did the sheriff have any success?”
“Kittay was too wound up to let him get near. Scratching his arms into ribbons. We called in the fire department.”
And no doubt guaranteed themselves a spot on the front page of the Sutter Creek Sentinel.
“Mrs. Rafferty—” as much as this story was bound to be recited in the streets and pews for the next weeks, and Maggie had first access to it, she really needed to prioritize the health of her patient “—did the fire department get the cat out? Does Kittay need veterinary care?”
“Well, it took some time, but they did manage to free her. And I know we’re supposed to go to the emergency clinic in Bozeman on your days off, but I’m afraid putting Kittay in a carrier for the car ride would right do her in. Could I impose—”
“Of course. I’ll meet you at the clinic in ten minutes.” So much for having all of Sunday off. And so much for keeping her distance from the hot librarian who kept popping into her thoughts at the most inconvenient times. After hanging up, she stashed away the noisemakers she’d been using to try to condition Jackson and put a hand between his shoulder blades. “Come on, buddy, time to go to work.”
He stood at attention.
She shook her head. He was so darn good at this part of being a service animal. But her attempts to work with him on his fear of noise were not going
as well. She’d planned to spend her day working up to his desensitization training. With any luck, whatever attention Kittay needed wouldn’t steal too much time away from their schedule. She clipped Jackson’s short leash on his collar and they trudged across the road. “Maybe if we go through the front, Asher won’t notice we’re here. We can get in and out quick.”
The dog cocked his blocky head.
“Oh, you don’t think we can be stealthy? I know I can,” she said to him, letting herself in the front door. Asher was up to his ears in laminate, according to Lachlan’s reports. Hopefully he’d keep to the back building.
After a thorough examination, she determined Kittay was freaked right out, but hadn’t suffered any injuries. She escorted Mrs. Rafferty and the unhappy, carrier-bound cat back to the front reception area.
The bell dinged, and thudding footsteps entered the room. Crud, Asher had—
She glanced up and her heart sank. Not Asher. Ryan Rafferty. She couldn’t decide what was worse. Asher challenged her willpower, but Ryan brought back echoes of her sister’s tears. Especially when he was dressed in cowboy getup, as opposed to his sheriff’s uniform. Gah. How many times had she seen her sister jump in Ryan’s truck and melt all over his bad-boy-on-the-range self? Only to have Ryan toss Stella’s heart out the window when he got in that truck and took off for the other side of the state after a teenage run-in with the law. He’d never responded when Stella tried to contact him to tell him she was pregnant. Or that she’d miscarried.
Yet another reason why Maggie had been reluctant to get into a relationship, and why getting walked out on herself had been extra painful—she should have known better. A short, sex-only fling was okay now and again, but dating someone just wasn’t worth the risk. Not even a seemingly nice guy like Asher. If she let herself dip her toes into the pool of temptation, she’d end up drowning again.
She fixed a neutral, professional expression on her face and nodded at the sheriff. “Good afternoon.”
“Hey, Maggie.” His smile faded. He took the cat carrier from Mrs. Rafferty and gave the older woman a quick hug. “The truck’s open, Gran.”
Mrs. Rafferty thanked Maggie again and left out the front door.
Ryan, for whatever reason, stayed behind.
Maggie stood behind the desk and crossed her arms. It was always a fine balance with the sheriff. She couldn’t forget his past with Stella, no matter how long ago it had happened. Her loyalty lay with her sister. But Sutter Creek was a small town, and both Maggie and Lachlan worked with Ryan on search and rescue operations. The sheriff was the technical head of SAR operations in the county, so as much as she wanted to snub the man, she couldn’t compromise their professional connection. “What can I do for you?”
“Thanks for humoring my grandmother,” he said, tone as tentative as an arrogant, self-involved law enforcement officer’s could be.
“I wasn’t humoring her. Kittay could have had significant joint damage.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess. I appreciate you coming in on the weekend either way.”
She stared at him. Why wasn’t he getting the memo that he wasn’t welcome here? Did he forget what he’d done, stealing a key part of her family? With their parents never providing a warm and loving home in Chicago, Maggie and Lachlan had depended on their summers in Sutter Creek to be their foundation, their chance at normalcy with their grandparents and older half-sister. But when a heartbroken Stella had vowed never to return and took off for the East Coast, Maggie and Lachlan lost their close relationship with her. Stella hadn’t only cut Ryan out of her life, she’d thrown up walls with her siblings, too.
The silence must have grown uncomfortable enough for Ryan to have to break it, because he said, “I—uh—I heard Stella’s investing in the expansion.”
“News travels,” she said, teeth gritted.
“Do you think she’ll be coming for a visit, then?” Faint hope lit his eyes.
Well, it was her job to crush that hope to dust. “You don’t get to ask about her, Sheriff.”
“I know, but, Maggie—”
“But nothing. You’re good at your job, and I respect that. And I’ll take orders from you during any SAR incident when we’re both on scene. But I’m not discussing Stella. And we’re not going to be friends.”
He exhaled, a frustrated noise that filled the otherwise empty waiting room. “Let me know if we can change that at some point.”
Turning on a heel, he trudged out.
She was about to lock up when a throat cleared behind her. She jumped and let out a truly pathetic shriek. Spinning, she took in the burly frame of the man standing in the hall that ran perpendicular to the front desk. His hands were jammed into his worn jeans.
Putting a hand over her thrumming heart, she took a breath and squeaked out, “Asher!”
He sent her an apologetic smile. “Thought you heard me come in.”
“Clearly not.” Oh man. Cotton T-shirts everywhere were probably begging for the opportunity to grace this man’s shoulders. He’d trimmed his beard, and the hitch at the corner of his mouth... A little knowing, a little nervous, a whole lot sexy.
Gah. Those shoulders, that mouth—they were not for her enjoyment. She really needed to keep it friendly.
But the flutter in her belly was not getting the memo. She steeled herself, fighting the silly, instinctive smile that wanted free.
“Third time’s a charm,” he said.
She lifted a brow in question. “What do you mean?”
He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms, and good gracious, that made the ropes of muscle in his forearms bulge in spectacular ways. “You weren’t here either Wednesday or Thursday.”
“I wasn’t. I was, uh, out training Jackson.” That was truthful enough. She didn’t need to explain that the reason she’d taken the dog elsewhere was to avoid having to look into Asher’s dark brown eyes and feel things she shouldn’t be feeling. “Good thing Jackson’s napping in the back room. You would have scared the daylights out of him.”
“Instead, I scared you,” he said.
Heat spilled into her cheeks. “Startled. A little.”
His lips twitched. “If that’s what we’re calling it these days.”
She lifted her chin. “We are.”
“So, uh, who was the guy? An ex?”
“I don’t date,” she snapped.
One of his dark brows raised in a wary arc. “Apologies for hitting a button. I just wanted to make sure you’re safe.”
She inhaled through her nose. “Sorry. Forgot that you’re not a local. You wouldn’t be privy to my life history. That was the sheriff. My sister’s ex.”
“Being in law enforcement doesn’t necessarily mean he’s safe.” Asher’s serious tone was so darn soothing. As was his caution. Her pulse slowed from her earlier anger at Ryan and being startled by Asher.
“He’s not a physical danger,” she said.
“Which isn’t the only kind of safety that matters.”
And by saying and knowing that, Asher was all the more fascinating to Maggie, pushing her that much further into the danger zone.
She backed up a few steps until her rear hit the desk. She glanced pointedly at the clock on the wall. “It’s my day off. I should really get out of here.” If she left now, she could put in three hours of training and playtime before dinner.
His face fell. “Oh. I was going to ask you for a favor. But if you have to go, don’t worry about it.”
Curiosity piqued, she sighed. “What do you need? Someone to hold the tape measure?”
He smiled sheepishly. “No, I’ve conscripted Ruth for that. But she’s been really patient today, and I want to get another hour of work done. I was wondering if she could hang out with your dog.”
“Well, I—”
“Sorry, you prob
ably have plans. You weren’t even supposed to be in today, were you?”
“It’s always something. Today happened to be a cat flushing itself down a toilet.” She smiled, just a small one. If she gave him more than that, she might be tempted to give him even more still.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “With intent?”
“There were no witnesses.”
He chuckled. “Is that why the law showed up? Taking the cat into custody for self-harm?”
Had the law enforcement officer in question not shattered her sister’s heart, she would have laughed, too.
“Nah. But the fire department got called.”
“Oh man. A story destined to make the rounds,” he said. “By the time I open the branch tomorrow, I’ll have three people telling me they heard the firefighters had to give the cat CPR, and extracted the entire toilet from the house, and it took the Jaws of Life to finally rescue the poor feline.”
She smiled fully. With teeth, almost. Shoot. But she couldn’t help it. She could see him standing behind the circulation desk in a dress shirt and jeans, looking sexier than any person deserved to look, humoring a stream of patrons as they spread exaggerated tales of Kittay’s trauma. “You’ve got Sutter Creek figured out.”
“I hope so.”
His eagerness hit her right in the chest. It was impossible to miss how he liked the quirkiness that made the small town home. Given she wasn’t ever going to make a family with a partner, being a part of the community, no matter its overbearing moments, gave her a place. And Asher seemed to want that, too, for him and Ruth.
And I could help with that. With friendship, that is.
“I have to put in a few hours with the dog this afternoon to make up for losing time here,” she said. “But maybe Ruth can give me a hand with desensitization training. She can make noises for me.” The invitation spilled out, unwanted but impossible to take back. No matter. She could figure out a way to ignore the curling heat in her belly for the sake of helping this man and his daughter feel like they were a part of the town. “And I was planning to take him for a walk down Main Street later, if you want to come with.”