He held his hands up. “He told me to say that.”
“He? As in, the dog?” Kylee asked, smiling even though he could tell she tried like hell not to.
“Yep.” He nodded. “The dog.”
“Good to know he’s feeling well enough to talk.” She shook her head, looking uncomfortable as she murmured, “Thank you for looking after him.” She was pretty when she blushed. Who was he kidding? She was pretty all the time. Especially when she wasn’t frowning at him.
“Hey, lady, can we get a beer?” someone called from the other end of the bar.
“Cutter got you workin’ alone?” he asked.
“Joni called in sick.” Kylee shrugged. “Meaning her boyfriend is in town. Bobby’s coming in about an hour.” And with that, she went back to work.
“How’d I know I’d find you here?” Jarvis asked, sitting on one of the bar stools. “You should know, your whole family is watching.”
“More reason to stay here.” He sighed.
“Fisher,” Kylee called out, sliding his preferred beer down the bar toward him.
He grabbed the bottle—even though he hadn’t told her what he wanted. He shouldn’t read too much into it. She was a good bartender and he’d been a regular customer. That’s all. A bartender who was working...so he should leave her alone and stop giving his family a reason to talk.
“Feel free to join me.” He pointed to his family. “My cousins are new in town. I can introduce you to Tandy, if you promise to behave.”
“Making no promises,” Jarvis said.
Fisher took his beer, trying to dodge a group of kids—his nephew Eli, Hunter’s son, included—and stepped back, bumping into something. He turned to find a boy bent over, collecting papers and shoving them into a notebook.
“Sorry, mister,” the boy murmured, looking up at him.
“No problem.” He stooped beside the boy, picking up several papers. The boy liked horses; he’d drawn a lot of them. One in particular caught Fisher’s eye.
“I’ll meet you over there,” Jarvis said, leaving him for his very blonde, very pretty cousin.
Fisher nodded, still inspecting the sketch. “Did you draw these?”
The kid nodded, thick black hair flopping onto his forehead.
“These are really great.” Something about the kid was familiar. “Having fun?”
The boy’s smile was small, almost nervous, as his clear blue gaze met Fisher’s. “Yeah, I guess.”
He helped the boy pick everything up before offering the boy his hand. “Fisher Boone.”
The boy’s eyes went round. “You’re Doc Fisher?” The boy looked him up and down.
“Hey, Uncle Fisher,” Eli showed up. “Hey, Shawn.”
“Hey, yourself.” Fisher grinned at his nephew, then glanced back at the boy. “And who are you?”
“He’s Shawn, Kylee’s brother,” Eli offered up.
Shawn nodded in the direction of the bar. “The crazy dog-lady bartender. That’s my sister.”
Kylee had a little broth
er? It was obvious now. They both had black hair and blue eyes—and they both seemed nervous, wound too tight. What they were nervous about, he had no idea. Knowing she had a younger brother here with her was a surprise. Were they on their own? Shawn couldn’t be that much older than Eli. He had the gangly height and loose limbs of a boy on the cusp of manhood. Where were their parents?
“Nice to meet you,” Fisher said, glancing at Kylee. She worked with quick efficiency, at ease behind the bar. She was a puzzle, a beautiful puzzle. Meeting Shawn tonight reminded him there was a lot he didn’t know about her—a lot he wanted to know. “You’ve got a pretty cool sister,” he added.