Page 7 of Cowboy Heat

“This is the doc’s house.” She’s pointing to the one on the left. Then she points to the one on the right next. “And that’s the doc’s boyfriend’s house. If you’re wondering why they don’t live together, you’d be met with her giving you the longest speech about how the only magic a relationship needs to work is space.” Kissy goes to get out of the car. “Apparently a whole house of it, to be precise.”

I can tell by Kissy’s body language that she thinks she’s going to turn back around and shoo me off. This time, I decide to get out before she has the chance.

My leg acts right, which helps my speed, and when I’m standing next to her on the grass, she gives me a look.

“I have a feeling if I don’t walk you to this doctor, you’ll try to walk home without being seen,” I say. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind meeting her, seeing as I’m new to town.”

Kissy gives me a look that I can read now. It’s annoyance. But I’m not sure it’s at me. She sighs out long and leads the way, but not before she passes a warning over her shoulder. “You might mind before this is all over.”

There’s movement in the house and light coming through the front door window before Kissy even knocks. Once she’s done it, she steps back shoulder to shoulder with me and fidgets with her forehead. It’s not bleeding anymore and hasn’t been since before our pit stop in the darkness.

Still, her face becomes all concern when the porch light flips on.

That concern is reflected instantly on the older woman who answers the door.

“Kissy?” Her gaze goes up just as quick. She sees the cut. “What happened?”

Here I’m thinking I’ll have to be the one to tell the truth to this doctor, but Kissy bowls right into it.

“I’m fine,” Kissy defends. “Just kind of ran my Jeep into a ditch andlightlyhit a tree.”

“Lightly hit a tree?” The older woman grabs for Kissy while yelling over her shoulder. “Wyatt! Kissy hit a tree!”

Kissy groans. “I didn’t hit a tree,” she yells right after.

A man inside the house, I assume Wyatt, is yelling too but I can’t make his words out.

“You said you hit a tree,” the older woman says.

“I went into a ditch, and my Jeep stoppedagainsta tree, I should’ve said,” Kissy tries. “If it’d been as bad as hitting a tree full stop, then this one here would’ve taken me to the hospital himself.”

She thumbs over to me.

The older woman finally seems to realize I’m there. Her entire demeanor changes as she openly looks me up and down. She’s suspicious. “Are you the reason she went into the ditch?”

I didn’t expect that, but I shake my head. Kissy responds faster than I can.

“No, he’s not the reason I went into a ditch.” She takes a notable beat. A deep breath in and a quick one out. Her tone has gone calm, the annoyance gone. “This is Beau Montgomery, one of the new owners of Blue Lolita. I went into the ditch after our tour, and he stopped to help me.”

That demeanor changes again in the older woman. Like Kissy, she’s letting the bad stream out and the calm come back in. I realize then they match each other. Not only the color of their eyes but the way they’re holding themselves.

I do some quick math, and I guess at what Kissy confirms next.

“Beau, this is Rebecca Lawson,” she says. “The only doctor in Robin’s Tree. And my grandmother.”

Rebecca flashes a smile. Her suspicion is gone, but her curiosity is here to stay. She doesn’t offer her hand, but she does step back into the house. She’s waves us in. “Welcome to Robin’s Tree, Mr. Beau Montgomery. Now come on in so we can take a look at you.”

CHAPTERFOUR

Kissy

Mimi is something to see,flitting about in her home office. Not that it’s a normal office, given there’s a hospital-grade table in the middle, a sink built into the corner with a hazardous waste basket next to it, and several medical supplies cluttering up the cabinets surrounding us.

I see Beau taking it all in after we’re ushered inside and Mimi exits stage left to get something from somewhere else. “There’s a clinic in the main part of town, but she gets the occasional pop-in visit at home,” I say.

There are also some people who don’t like going into town at all. People living onLa Lumiere,to be specific.

But I don’t tell him that.