water bucket she always kept filled when she was burning.
“I was burning a few things. And… I was about here.” She stepped to the right a few feet and Joe turned to eye her intently. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. The golden evening light, beaming through the tree canopy, granted his eyes a rich emerald cast. Everything about the man was intense, dark and—waiting on her.
“Yes, here,” she decided, stomping her boot toe into the grass. “I was talking to Stella—”
“There was someone else here?”
“Stella, my wolf.”
“Your…wolf?” He hooked his hands in the back pockets of his pants and looked about. “What the—? You took in a wolf cub?”
“Stella has been with me a few years. I found her in a snare trap when she was a pup. I hate it when hunters call those things humane. They are anything but. I took her to the office in town and had to amputate her back leg. Since then, she’s flourished. She’s not around right now.”
Skylar scanned the area. The wolf must be off with the half-dozen chickens—surprisingly, her best friends. Stella was protective of Skylar, but she always left the immediate area when visitors or company arrived. She was a little skittish until she could scent out the newcomer, and then she would eventually put in an appearance.
“I do rehabilitate animals,” Skylar pointed out to Joe, who nodded.
“Right. I just thought keeping a wolf as a pet…”
“I have a permit.”
“Sure. Still, they are a wild animal.” He gave her a side glance that dripped with judgment.
“She had nowhere else to go. I tried to get her to return to the pack, but they wouldn’t have it.”
“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t having it, either.
Yes, wolves were wild and should never be kept as pets. Skylar agreed with that wholeheartedly. But when injured and abandoned by their pack, the wolf’s only future was living as a loner. And for a pup living out in the wild populated with predators, the fate was most certainly a cruel death.
It didn’t matter to her what Joe thought of her choice to keep Stella. Skylar loved her like a family member.
“So you were standing right there and…?” he prompted.
“I was watching the flames, talking to Stella and…at first I felt something on my ear. Thought it was a wicked mosquito bite.”
She touched her ear and Joe stepped forward. It was well past the supper hour, and the forest edging her backyard filtered the setting sun, turning it into a hazy twilight. He dug out a small flashlight from a back pocket and shone it on her ear. The man stood so close she could smell his aftershave—something subtle yet masculine with a hint of lemony citronella.
He examined her ear, which had been nicked on the top and had bled minimally. Of course, she’d gasped at the sight of it in the bathroom mirror. She’d never been so close to being killed in her life. And that had angered more than frightened her. What would have become of Stella and the other animals she cared for if she had died? The thought of them being relocated, or worse, was heart wrenching.
As Joe looked her over, she studied his face. There were three Cash brothers, all born and raised in Crooked Creek, a sister town to Checker Hill. There wasn’t a female in either of the two close towns who didn’t know who they were, because those boys were genetic anomalies, fashion models roughed up by the wild. Sinuous and muscular. So sexy. And Joe’s deep green eyes were a thing to behold.
“If that bullet had been half an inch closer…” The man suddenly bowed his head and winced.
Skylar was taken aback by his reaction. “Joe? What’s wrong? I’m okay.”
“Right.” He lifted his head and his jaw pulsed with tension. “You always were able to take care of yourself.”
He’d learned exactly what she’d hoped to teach him about her. Regrettably.
Skylar lifted her chin bravely. “Still can take care of myself.”
“Being shot at is no way to go about it, Skylar. If anything would have happened to you…” He winced again and looked aside, toward the fire pit.
Skylar found herself leaning forward in hopes of him finishing that sentence. Then again, she suspected how he would finish it. He’d never hidden his interest in her. And she wasn’t prepared for such a statement right now.
If only he’d said as much to her two months earlier. Of course, then he’d been avoiding her like the plague.
It was well deserved on her part.
He placed his hands akimbo and scanned the lake. “Do you know what direction the shot was fired from?”
She pointed out through the gap in the bowed birch trees that she’d always thought of as a sort of pulled-back curtain to the stage of the lake. “I feel like it came from that way.”
“See anyone down by the shore?”
She shook her head. Then she remembered, and turned to point out the bullet holes that had splintered and pierced the hitching post.
“Two?” Joe bent to study the post with the flashlight. “These are clean, and one goes all the way through.” He paused and glanced at her as if to temper his words for her tender ears.
“I’m a big girl, Joe. You can say the bad stuff without offending or scaring me.”
“I guess so.” He returned his attention to the holes and tapped the post with a finger. “I have some evidence bags in the truck. I’m going to grab them, but I should also call in someone to take some photos and—” His attention veered to the ground behind the post. “Here’s a bullet.”
He tugged out a black latex glove from his pocket, pulled it on and picked up the bullet from the ground. It was long, and Skylar leaned in to peer at it as he did.
Joe swore.
“What is it?” she asked.
“My dad collects guns, and he taught me and my brothers a lot about the different types and their ammunition. This is most definitely from a high-powered rifle, Skylar.”
“I don’t understand. Not the usual hunting rifle?”
“Nope. If that had been the case, that hitching post would be pocked with lead shot. As well as you.”
Skylar sucked in a breath.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to say that.”
She nodded, no longer feeling quite as strong as she wanted to.
Joe turned and again cast a glance across the lake. “I don’t think the shooter was close. Could have been across the lake. Which means this is some serious business.”
He turned to face her directly and asked, “What’s going on? Why would someone be shooting
