Chapter 10 Lucy #2
"Coming to meet my replacement, of course.
The one I've been hearing such wonderful things about from half the county.
" Her grin is wicked as her eyes bounce between Colt and me.
"Not just from clients, mind you, but from my dear brother here, whose praise doesn't come easy and who apparently can't stop talking about his new assistant. "
She's looking at me with undisguised curiosity, like I'm a puzzle she's dying to solve, and I feel heat rise in my cheeks.
"Emma, meet Lucy Reid," Colt says, his voice carrying that particular tone of affectionate exasperation that only comes from years of sibling warfare. "Lucy, this is my sister Emma. She used to help me run this place before she decided to go off and reproduce."
"Reproduce?" Emma laughs, the sound rich and infectious as she swats at his arm hard enough to make him shift Gucci protectively. "You make it sound like I'm one of Blackwell's prize heifers. I had a baby, you Neanderthal."
"Same thing," Colt mutters, but there's warmth lighting his eyes for the first time since he walked in.
"Emma, this is Lucy Reid. The one who's been keeping the clinic from falling apart while you're off playing house."
"Hi," I manage to squeeze into their rapid-fire banter, extending a hand.
She takes my hand with a grip that's firm and warm, the kind of handshake that says she's used to holding her own in a world full of ranchers and cowboys.
"And can I just say, thank God someone finally showed up who knows what they're doing. I was starting to worry Colt was going to run this place into the ground while I was on maternity leave."
"Hey," Colt protests, but there's no real heat in it, just the comfortable rhythm of siblings who've been giving each other hell for decades.
Emma ignores him completely, focusing on me with the kind of laser intensity that probably makes her a formidable opponent at poker night.
"You know what? You look like someone who's been cooped up with grumpy veterinarian and sick animals for too long.
When's the last time you had a proper night out?
And I don't mean grabbing a burger at Murphy's counter. "
"I... what?" The question catches me completely off guard.
"That's what I thought." Emma's grin is infectious, the kind that makes you want to smile back even when you're not sure what you're agreeing to.
"I've been trapped at home with a colicky baby for six weeks. I love my son to pieces, but if I don't get out of the house and have an adult conversation over something stronger than coffee, I'm going to start having philosophical discussions with the houseplants."
"That's... actually very relatable," I admit, a small laugh bursting out of me before I can stop it.
"See? You get it." Emma's grin widens as she studies me with the shrewd assessment of someone who's clearly her brother's sister.
"You know, in all his endless chatter about you, my dear brother somehow forgot to mention how pretty you are. Didn't you, Colt?"
"Emma," Colt says, a note of warning creeping into his voice that could freeze a Montana creek in July.
But Emma's on a roll now, clearly enjoying herself.
"Oh, he's been talking about you quite a bit, actually.
'Lucy this, Lucy that, Lucy's so good with the animals, Lucy reorganized the whole filing system.
' Very unlike him, usually I have to drag information out of him with a crowbar and a bottle of whiskey. "
"Emma," Colt says again, and this time there's definitely a threat in his voice.
"Oh, hush." She waves him off like he's a pesky fly. "What do you say, Lucy? You and me, proper girls' night out. Nothing too scandalous."
She pauses, her grin turning positively wicked. "Well, maybe a little scandalous. It is Friday night in a small town, after all."
I open my mouth to decline automatically. This is exactly the kind of thing I should avoid. Getting more entangled with the people in this town, creating connections that will hurt to break.
But something about Emma's energy is magnetic, pulling at a part of me I thought I'd buried under two years of survival mode.
It's been so long since I've had a female friend, since I've done anything that felt remotely normal for someone my age. Since I've been invited anywhere, wanted anywhere.
"I don't really have anything to wear for—"
"Honey, you're talking to someone whose entire wardrobe currently consists of nursing bras and yoga pants with mystery stains I'm afraid to identify. We'll figure it out." Emma's eyes gleam with the kind of determination that probably moved mountains back in her pioneer ancestors' day.
"Besides, you deserve a night off. From what I hear around town, you've been working yourself into the ground."
"Emma, don't—". Colt growls.
"Don't what? Don't take your hardworking employee out for a well-deserved break?" Emma's voice is pure innocence, but there's something wicked dancing in her green eyes as she looks between Colt and me like she's watching a particularly entertaining tennis match.
"Or are you worried your assistant might discover there's more to Briarhaven than the inside of this clinic? Maybe meet some of the local... attractions?"
The innuendo in her voice is unmistakable, and I feel heat flood my face like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't.
Colt's expression has gone thunderous, but before he can respond, Emma claps her hands together with the satisfaction of someone who's just won a particularly satisfying argument.
"That settles it then. Lucy, meet me at my house at seven sharp. Colt will give you directions…he knows where I live, seeing as how he helped build half of it." She heads for the door with a spring in her step, then pauses, looking back at both of us with a grin that belongs in a wanted poster.
"And Lucy? If you're gonna turn heads tonight, might as well do it in boots and eyeliner. Trust me on this one, I know what works in this town."
The door swings shut behind her, leaving Colt and me standing in sudden, charged silence that feels thick enough to cut with a knife.
"I should probably warn you," he says finally, his voice carefully neutral in the way that means he's working hard to keep it that way.
"My sister's idea of a quiet night out usually involves at least three watering holes and someone's reputation in tatters by sunrise."
I look at him, taking in the way his shoulders are rigid with tension, the way he's holding Gucci like a fluffy shield between us, the way his green eyes are fixed somewhere over my left shoulder instead of meeting mine.
"Maybe that's exactly what I need," I hear myself say, and the words surprise me as much as they seem to surprise him.
"Lucy..." The way he growls my name is half warning, half something I don't want to name because it makes my knees weak.
But I'm already moving toward the door, because if I stay here much longer, listening to the rough desperation in his voice, watching the way his hands clench around that ridiculous chicken, I'm going to do something monumentally stupid.
Something that will make leaving feel impossible instead of inevitable.
The countdown that used to feel like salvation now feels like an anchor dragging me toward a decision I'm not ready to make. And I'm not sure which scares me more, the thought of staying and risking everything, or the thought of leaving and losing this feeling forever.
But for tonight, maybe I can pretend I'm just Lucy Reid, normal twenty-year-old girl going out with a friend. Maybe I can pretend that the way Colt's watching me doesn't make my pulse race, or that I'm not already wondering what kind of trouble Emma has planned.
Maybe for one night, I can forget the ticking clock entirely. Pretend there's no deadline hanging over my head, no escape plan mapped out in meticulous detail.
Just boots, eyeliner, and the dangerous possibility of belonging somewhere long enough to call it home.