Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Prescott
I hope he’s gone. I amble down the long drive, past the quiet house. His pickup is parked in front of the garage, but it was also there yesterday, and I didn’t see him.
I had a revealing chat with Allison last night after Haven ditched Bootleg.
The chickens dart around inside their pen, which is in a different spot in the yard. Haven must move it every day. I park on the edge of the drive close to the chicken shed. Taking the tote on my passenger seat with me, I start for the barn.
The soles of my sandals crunch against the gravel. “Hey, kitty, kitty.”
The orange fluffy one sprints inside the barn, but a gray tabby trots toward me, its little exclamation point tail pointing high into the air.
“Hey there, Thistle.” I crouch, hoping he’ll run right into my arms .
He starts to when a large shadow emerges from the barn. “Thistle?”
Meadow sprints out from behind him and careens toward me. Thistle skitters to the side, his back arched, watching both the dog and me.
My heart leaps into my throat—first, from being startled. Next, from the handsome, looming cowboy with a fur ball in his arms. “A ditch weed.” I gesture to the orange fluff ball before I give Meadow a bunch of scratches. “That’s Tansy, or Tan for short, and the girl tabby is Daisy.”
Thistle stumbles toward me and bats at the tip of my sandal. The puppy changes direction back to Haven.
Haven sets Tan down, and the kitten spins to dive back into the barn. He’s a skittish one. Can’t say the same about the cowboy, although… “I had a nice talk with Allison. She’s interesting.”
His shoulders go stiff. “Oh?”
“I didn’t realize you two were so serious.”
He blanches and panic fills his eyes. “We’re not. We hardly even dated, and she was joking that I was her future husband—to other people in front of me.”
“I gathered that.” Chuckling, I rise. He’s so scandalized, I can’t keep the ruse going. “She was very intent on letting me know how close you two are. A little too intent, you could say.”
He blows out a breath and scratches the back of his neck. “I gotta say, I’m glad you could see through that.”
“She’s a lonely girl, and you’re what? The most wanted bachelor in town?”
He snorts. “No. If anyone thinks that, they don’t know me.”
That’s odd. Most guys would wear the title with pride.
“ Huckleberry Springs can’t be filled with a lot of options.
” In Chicago, Haven would still top the list. My luck that I found him when I first arrived in town.
Or he found me. “It probably sucks for her to think she fumbled it, and then to think she still has a chance.”
“She’ll meet someone else.”
“In the metropolis of Huckleberry Springs? In the robust crowd at Bootleg?”
“You don’t think it can happen, city girl?”
“I’m not all city.” I dig around in my tote. My tips the last few nights have been good, and it’s likely due to the news that I’m Silas Young’s mystery daughter. “I have some deworming medicine and stuff for fleas and ticks.”
“How?”
“Um, I think they’re both topical. Let me check.”
“No, how did you know that Allison was exaggerating? And how are you not all city?”
I quit rooting around my bag of goodies and adjust the strap on my arm.
“Oh.” That’s my life history right there.
How much do I want to share? “Well, I bartended through college, and you get to know people and see trends in behavior. I hate to say it, but desperation is pretty clear in everyone. Then, as a photographer, I got to see behind the smiles to all the things a gorgeous photo is supposed to hide. As for the city stuff, I moved to one as soon as I could.”
“Where did you live before this?”
“Chicago.” His interest is endearing, but I’m not here to play get to know you with the hot cowboy.
“I’ve traveled enough and bartended enough to know that Allison might meet a nice guy passing through town, and they’ll hit it off and start a good relationship, and then she’ll find out he has a girl in each town he stops in. ”
“Ouch.”
“It sucks.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Or so I’ve heard. Mind giving me a hand to treat these guys?”
If he catches any subtext there, he doesn’t say anything. For the next half hour, Haven brings me each animal one by one for the deworming. They’ve grown in the few days since I found them, and I should probably tell Haven my dirty secret.
“I haven’t called any rescues yet.” I gather all the extra supplies and stuff them all back into my tote. “I know I should’ve called or messaged or at least searched for who to call or message, but I haven’t.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just not used to the late nights at the bar. When I ran the Buford account, I kept banker’s hours after years of working evenings and weekends doing photography. When I wake up, Papa talks my ear off, and then I’m back at Bootleg.”
“Red, it’s not a problem.”
Is he really that chill? “The longer they stay, the harder it will be to get them into a rescue.”
Indecision flickers in his expression a second before it vanishes. “I’ll take the risk. You just moved to town.”
“I’m not moving here.”
He recoils, and yes, I might’ve nearly shouted it. “Sorry. I remember. Are you going to wait until after these guys find a home?”
“They’ll find one before I do.” I wish they could live here.
The kittens are happy, and Meadow is in heaven.
I know that it’s not fair to shove strays on people who aren’t ready or willing for whatever reason, but it’s like this place was made for them.
I can’t ask for more. Haven’s helping me out more than he wanted to.
An engine sounds in the distance. “Are you expecting someone?”
“It’s probably one of the guys.”
A door slams. “Yoo-hoo, Haven?” a woman’s voice calls out.
“You’re popular.” Lead lines my stomach and sinks.
Why am I even surprised? Of course Haven’s got women everywhere.
Look at him and those abs visible through that shirt.
The way he removed himself when Allison arrived to keep from leading her on was more attractive than I care to admit, but it doesn’t change that he’s exactly what I’ve been staying away from all my dating life.
My ex, Milo, broke my heart, and he had less than half of Haven’s charm.
“Not always, but that’s Jamison.”
“Uncle Haven?” a younger girl calls in a singsong voice.
Haven’s grin goes straight to my heart, and if I could get a snapshot in this moment, I’d frame it. His eyes crinkle at the corner, and his white teeth have the perfect asymmetry to make him real, almost attainable, to make a girl think she has a chance at his undying loyalty.
I might still be a photographer at heart, so I do know that pictures can lie.
“That’s Kacey. My niece.” He pops his head out of the tack room. “In here.”
Rapid footsteps slap the ground, and a small girl with rich-brown hair throws herself into her uncle’s arms. He swoops her up and squeezes her tight.
“It’s like I haven’t seen you for three whole days, buckaroo.”
She giggles and kicks her feet. The kid’s cowboy boots she wears with her purple shorts and gray T-shirt send nostalgia swirling through me. Her fashion used to be mine, once upon a time.
He sets her down, and she looks around.
“Where are they?” Her wide gaze lands on me. “Who are you?”
“Kacey, my word.” This must be Jamison. She stands in the doorway, holding a little boy who can’t be much older than a year. He reaches for Haven. As if my ovaries haven’t endured enough hormonal turmoil in the last few minutes, Haven lifts him from Jamison’s arms.
The boy immediately grabs for the brim of his hat. Haven takes it off and plops it on the kid’s head. Only the baby’s chin is visible, and his giggles are muffled.
Haven plucks the hat off and sets it back on his head. “Jamison, this is Prescott Keys.”
Jamison’s amber eyes brighten. “Silas’s daughter?” She sticks her hand out. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.”
I’ve only been here two days. No one’s been that thrilled to meet me, ever. I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. I hear you have kids who can make these cats perfect for families.”
Jamison smirks. “They’ll definitely do that. Kacey tamed a litter before she was allowed to touch them.”
“That’s what they need.” It’ll be easier to find them homes if they can mouse and give cuddles.
Kacey sneaks around her mom and returns five seconds later with the two gray tabbies.
Haven chuckles, pride shining in his eyes. “She’s on the job. Can I get you two anything to drink?”
“Lemonade,” Kacey says, putting the grays down to stalk Tan. The orange cat runs off.
“I should get going.” Yet I don’t want to leave. “I don’t want to intrude. ”
“Don’t let me chase you off.” Disappointment rings in Jamison’s words. “I don’t get to Bootleg much these days, and I’ve got enough of my dad in me to want to chat up a new face.”
I could’ve used a million Jamisons months ago when I was trying to be Prescott the Influencer instead of the human behind Buford.
I won’t mistake her interest as genuine.
For everyone in town, their curiosity begins and ends with my relationship to my dad.
My relationship with him doesn’t go much farther than that either.
“It’s okay. You’re not chasing me off. I told Papa I was going to clean Bootleg today before it opens. ”
“The grime is part of its charm,” Haven says.
“It’s going to attract the health department if something’s not done.” At the risk of being selfish, I can’t get on my feet if Papa loses his income stream. “I’ll let you know what I hear,” I say to Haven.
“You coming out again tomorrow?” he asks.
Understanding fills me. He doesn’t want to be responsible for feeding and watering, and he’s training Meadow. I shouldn’t foist everything onto him. “Yes, I can.”
His grin is hotter than the late June sun. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Haven