couple in the next few days. He jotted twenty-four on the list. Made his way to triple sec...rye...rows and rows that started to slither like snakes on the page so he traced across with his finger to make sure he was writing on the correct line.
Half an hour later he was finished and desperate to escape from any more paperwork. Fortunately, he had errands to do. He was still moving into the house he’d rented a few blocks away from the bar. He needed dishes, cleaning supplies, pretty much everything. As much as he hated shopping, it would be better than more forms or schedules. He set down the clipboard and headed out to the bar.
Kit was still chatting with the hikers. The scruffy bearded guy was telling Kit a story, gesticulating with hands that housed a woven rainbow-colored bracelet and a thick silver ring, while she polished glasses.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Tyler said, not sorry at all. “I’m gonna head out for some errands. What time do you want a break?”
“In an hour. Or later is fine, too.”
“Okay then.” Still, he lingered, glancing toward the guys at the bar and not liking the way the bearded hiker stared at her backside with the rapt expression of a guy in his own personal heaven.
“You’ve got my cell number,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t hesitate to call if these clowns try anything.”
One raised eyebrow messaged her utter disbelief. “These college boys? Please.”
“I don’t like the way they look at you.”
She laughed at that. “Tyler, I’ve been doing this job for years. I know how to handle a few hikers. Now go do something useful.”
She still saw a kid when she looked at him and Tyler felt that old high-school need rise up. The need for her to see him as more than just a buddy. It grated. Here he was, fifteen years later, still wanting her to see him differently. Some things never changed.
He had to get a grip. Kit Hayes wasn’t the reason he was in Benson. He should focus on what really mattered—making a name for himself, right here in his hometown. Showing everyone who’d doubted him that he was more than a bull rider. More than the kid who’d never been anything but trouble in school and regret in his daddy’s eyes.
He gave the hikers one last stern look before he headed out the door.
* * *
KIT WATCHED TYLER stalk out of the bar and glanced at her phone. Still no message from the High Country Sports Bar, though she’d handed in her application a couple days ago. Lance, a bartender there, had said they might be hiring. But so far, no word.
She resisted the urge to duck into the storeroom to check Tyler’s order. It was tough to let go of control, especially when he was doing all the jobs she’d done. But he owned the place now, and if he wanted to order and inventory and schedule, well, that was his right.
She should be happy. She was pulling down the same wages Chris had paid her, but doing a lot less work. All she had to do was chat with customers, make drinks and keep the bar clean.
She leaned against the counter behind the bar. Tapped a restless foot to the nineties mix playing on the speakers. The thing was, she’d never been much good at just hanging out. She had too much energy for that.
The door opened and she recognized a group of field biologists who came through from time to time. Relief had her smiling broadly as they approached the bar. They were studying reptile populations. Not her favorite topic, but she’d take anything over this boredom.
“What can I get you?” she asked. And when the pints were on the counter, “So how’s the research been going lately?” And willed herself to be fascinated by the hunting behavior of the long-nosed leopard lizard. And to ignore the unruly part of her mind that kept wondering when Tyler would walk into the bar again.
Because something was different. In all of her mixed-up feelings around him taking over the bar, there was this awareness of him. Of how he moved with an intense power and grace that was probably what kept him on the back of a bull long enough to be called a champion. Of the way his smile slid sideways to reveal a wry humor, as though he’d seen more ups and downs than most people. Of the creases around his eyes that gave his face a lived-in look and roughed up his beauty enough to keep it manly.
How could she not notice it? Every woman did. Even Lila had been talking about Tyler the other night when Kit went to her friend’s house for dinner. She’d gushed so much that Ethan, her fiancé, had finally said he was coming to the bar to check this Tyler guy out. He’d said it laughingly, because he and Lila had a bond that was unbreakable. But he was definitely curious.
Kit had to remember that Tyler was her boss now. He wasn’t the kid she’d had hay fights with, swam in lakes with and thrown snowballs at. Their past didn’t mean much now that he signed her paychecks. And until she heard from the High Country, she needed those paychecks. So she had to ignore these confusing feelings that had her glancing toward the door.
Lizards, she reminded herself, smiling at the biologist who, thankfully, seemed oblivious to her wandering mind. Focus on the lizards.
* * *
IT WAS TYLER’S first Friday night behind the bar. It didn’t matter how many times he reminded himself that he’d spent the past decade riding bulls whose sole desire was to get him off their backs so they could stomp him to death. After that, nothing should make him nervous. But this did.
So he kept himself busy, slicing lemons at the counter behind the bar. Away from the customers so he’d have a chance to observe a bit before he jumped in.
Kit was on the schedule tonight. Apparently she and Lila usually worked Friday nights together, along with Tim. Ernie and Loomis were by the door ready to bounce anyone who got too rowdy.
He’d understood the books enough to see that most of the bar’s income was generated on weekend nights. But he also knew how busy the High Country got on the weekends. Benson wasn’t a big town, so he was curious to find out who spent so much money at the Dusty Saddle.
The jukebox in the corner was pounding out one country hit after another. It was still light outside, only about six. This time of year, it wouldn’t get dark for another hour. But the door of the bar flung open and the first customer came in, and Tyler couldn’t help but stare.
The guy looked like something out of a history book. His faded canvas pants and flannel shirt weren’t too surprising around Benson, but his beard was down to his belly and the lines in his face spoke of twenty-four hours a day in the elements.
Then the old-timer spotted Kit and his face lit up in a boyish grin. “There’s my angel,” he called as he strode across the room to shake her hand, which turned into a hearty, across-the-bar hug and a fatherly peck on her cheek. He did the same for Lila, and gave Tim a hearty handshake and clap on the shoulder.
“How’s it going, Crater?” Kit pulled a pint glass from the rack above. “Did you have a good week out there?”
“Better than most.” The big man parked himself on a stool that looked impossibly small for his frame. “You know mining. One minute you think you’re striking it rich, the next you’re chipping away at nothing.”
Mining? Tyler had forgotten there were still solitary miners out here. Scraping out silver and gold in high desert claims, burrowing into veins the mining
