Chapter Five
Sydney pushed open the bookstore’s heavy glass door, and a wave of warm air, scented with cedar shelves and leather, washed over her.
Dark, angry clouds could be seen through the tall windows, as a handful of readers curled into overstuffed chairs with tall lamps illuminating what they were reading.
She paused by a display of journals, inhaling the faint tang of fresh ink mingled with paper that had seen countless stories.
A few months ago, she’d nearly sold this place, ranch duties had demanded too much, but her heart had refused to let go.
“Hey, Syd,” Beth called from behind the counter.
Sydney returned the smile. “Hi, Beth. Pretty busy today.”
“It is, and it’s not even noon. I am amazed at the people who venture out in this weather if they don’t have to. Any word on your mare?”
“Not yet,” Sydney said, leaning on the polished wood. “Agent Anderson’s on it. He won’t give up.”
“I hope he brings her home,” Beth murmured.
“I do too.” Sydney’s fingers traced the counter’s edge. “I love that horse.”
Beth laughed. “You love all horses.”
Sydney chuckled. “Absolutely.”
“What’s on your agenda?” Beth asked.
“I’m off to lunch with Celine.”
Beth raised an eyebrow. “Smart. You’ll beat the rush.”
“Exactly,” Sydney said, checking her watch. “And you know I can’t skip seeing how we’re doing.”
Beth smiled, shaking her head. “You really care about this place too.”
“It’s my baby.”
“I know that’s true.”
“I’d better get going. Have a great day.” Sydney stepped into the crisp air. Snow dusted the sidewalk as she walked toward the coffee shop, buildings aglow with late-morning light.
Inside The Everyday Grind, the rich aroma of espresso and vanilla sugar hugged her senses. A line snaked past the counter, forcing her to pause, then moved toward the front. A woman in a bright-red parka glared. “Get in line,” she snapped.
“I’m not ordering,” Sydney replied calmly. “I’m here to meet a friend.”
“You’re still cutting,” the woman huffed.
Sydney rolled her eyes, then turned to the counter. “Ainsley, where’s Celine?”
Ainsley, balancing a steaming latte, pointed down a short hall. “In her office.”
“Thanks.”
Sydney squeezed between two people along the corridor. She knocked lightly and pushed open the door.
“Hey!” Celine said. The glow of a computer screen lit her face. “Let me just shut this down. I am starving.”
“Same.” Sydney grinned.
Celine snapped her laptop closed, pushed her chair back, shrugged into her coat, then tucked her purse over one shoulder. “Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
Back at the counter, Ainsley waved. “Take your time, ladies. We got this.”
“I know you do. Thanks!”
They threaded past the woman and Sydney had to bite her tongue not to say something. Then they stepped out into the cold.
“Holy shit. It’s colder now than when I opened this morning,” Celine said.
“Yeah, and calling for a good bit of snow.”
At the diner’s neon sign, they entered and were immediately greeted by friendly shouts, waves, and smiles. Sliding into a booth, they hung their coats on the backrest. The air smelled of sizzling bacon and sweet maple syrup.
“I love this place.” Celine sighed.
“Me too.” Sydney folded her scarf. “Worth the move?”
“Absolutely,” Celine said, eyes sparkling. “Especially since I met the love of my life here.”
“How is that gorgeous man?” Sydney teased.
Celine closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, then grinned. “He is just so… he’s everything to me, Syd.”
“I know he adores you.”
“He does and he shows me every single day.”
Sydney tapped the tabletop. “Think what never would’ve happened if you hadn’t kissed him by mistake.”
Celine buried her face in her hands, laughing. “I still can’t believe I did that.”
“But you’re glad you did.”
Her hands fell away. “The minute I kissed him; a shock ran through me. By the way, any news on your horse?”
“Agent Anderson’s on the case,” Sydney said, eyes gleaming. “And he’s insanely good-looking.”
Celine laughed. “I remember your first meeting, you were speechless!”
“And that’s saying something,” Sydney teased, joining in her friend’s laughter.
“You got that right. ”
“Hey! You weren’t supposed to agree with me.” Sydney tossed her napkin across the booth.
“I’m your best friend, I would not lie to you to make you feel better.” Celine caught the napkin mid-air with a smirk.
Sydney laughed. “Some friend you are.”
“Hey, ladies. What can I get you?” Connie, the owner of the diner, asked, her pen poised over a well-worn notepad, reading glasses dangling from a beaded chain around her neck.
After giving Connie their orders, Sydney leaned over the table, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“He kissed me.”
“What? When?” Celine’s eyes widened, coffee mug frozen halfway to her lips.
“Friday when he stopped by to update me on the case.” Sydney could feel her cheeks getting warm.
“And?” Celine set her mug down with a soft clink.
“Toe-curling, hot, magic, and so damn good.” Sydney fanned herself with her hand.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Celine smiled.
“It was like you said, a shock ran through me.”
“How did it come about?” Celine leaned in, elbows on the table.
“I had told him before that once the case was solved; I’d like to get to know him better.
Thing was, he didn’t answer right away, until he pulled his coat on, then looked at me with those intense honey-colored eyes and said, there was nothing he’d like more.
Then the other day he stopped by to update me and when he was leaving, he said, he shouldn’t do this, then kissed me and said, ‘Yeah, we’re definitely going to get to know each other better once this case is solved.
’ I wanted to attack him, but he left to go talk to someone again.
” Sydney’s words tumbled out in a breathless rush.
“Let me tell you something,” Celine said, stirring another packet of sugar into her coffee, “he will not quit until he finds out what happened to your horse or return her to you. Killian is like that. Every case he’s on, he is so dedicated to finding the animals.
No matter what they are; sheep, horses, cattle, or bison. Any livestock.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I know he wants to find the horse. It’s not just talk.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve seen Killian lose sleep because he’s so dedicated to finding the livestock.”
“I like hearing that. Not that Killian loses sleep over cases, but that they’re so dedicated to finding the animals. I want my horse back.” Sydney’s voice caught slightly.
“I know you do and if Case can find her, he will.” Celine reached across to touch Sydney’s hand.
“Did you know that his first name is really Caysen?” Sydney asked.
“I like Caysen.” Celine nodded approvingly.
“I do too, and that’s what I’m going to call him.” Sydney sighed dreamily.
“It’s different, but I like it too. I feel the same about Killian. I love his name.”
“What’s not to like. Nothing better than a hot man with a sexy name.”
After Connie brought their meals, they dug in and talked. Catching up since they didn’t get a lot of time to spend together. Which was why Sydney always looked forward to seeing her friend.
*** *
The following day, Case entered the MDOL office, the scent of burnt coffee hitting him as he strode across the worn linoleum to his desk.
After removing his Stetson and sheepskin coat still carrying the bite of cold air, he pulled the chair out and sat down to examine the grainy photos of shoe prints, comparing their distinctive patterns to Gibbs’s and Tillman’s boots.
“Hey, little brother.”
Case glanced up to see Hud standing in front of his desk, hands in his pockets, his badge gleaming on his belt.
“What’s up?” Case asked, leaning back.
“Got to run out to Spring City. Three prize Herefords went missing overnight. Grab lunch at the diner when I get back?”
“Yeah, their chicken-fried steak sounds perfect.”
“I’ll text when I’m headed back. Got a feeling this is turning into one hell of a long day.”
Case chuckled. “Sun’s barely up, Hud.”
“Yeah, that’s how I know it’s going to be a long damn day.” Hud grinned before he turned and walked out, boot heels clicking against the floor.
As Case returned to the photos, Sydney’s face floated unbidden into his mind, her flushed cheeks, the soft gasp against his lips. Damn, that kiss in her kitchen had been electric, but he shouldn’t have crossed that line. It could complicate everything.
“Complicate things? It already has because you can’t stop thinking about doing it again,” he muttered, then glanced around the quiet office, relieved no one had heard.
Running a hand through his hair, he knew he needed to keep his distance.
At least until this case was wrapped up, but what if tracking down the stolen horse took weeks?
The thought of maintaining purely professional contact with Sydney for that long made his chest tighten with frustration he wasn’t ready to examine.
He sat bolt upright when the computer froze on a match, the digital imprint of a boot with a chipped heel lining up perfectly with the scanned image.
He pressed ‘print’ and the machine whirred, spitting out a sheet of paper.
Case stood, stretched, then crossed to the printer.
He picked up the paper, studying the pattern. There was no mistaking Gibbs’s boots.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, running a finger along the inked tread.
“Hey, Case.” Rawley’s voice drifted through the room as he strolled by.
Case looked up. “Rawley, take a look at this.” He handed over the printout.
Rawley scanned it, his eyes narrowing. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Gibbs’s boot prints, right at the spot where the horse was taken.”
“I knew he was lying,” Rawley hissed.
Case shrugged. “I’m heading out to the Gibbs ranch. You in?”
“Hell, yeah.” Rawley grinned.