Courted by the Cowboy (The Boones of Texas 3)

Shawn nodded.

“Your face looks like it hurts, Uncle Fisher,” Eli said, shaking his head.

“You should see the other guy,” Fisher teased.

“Kylee said you knocked him out with one punch.” Shawn seemed impressed.

Fisher’s gaze returned to Kylee. So she’d told her brother. And while he didn’t want Shawn to think fighting was a good thing, he couldn’t deny it pleased him to know she had mentioned him to Shawn. She looked up then, her gaze searching the dance hall until she found Shawn. Fisher could see her relief from where he stood. Once more he pondered what would make her so anxious, almost like she was running from something. Or someone.

Her blue gaze met his. He lifted an eyebrow, pointing at Shawn with a grin. She smiled and it almost brought him to his knees. It was a real smile, given freely and withholding nothing. She loved her little brother with everything she had. And damn if he wouldn’t give everything to have her smiling over him like that.

“Fisher?” Eli waved a hand in front his face. “Fisher?”

He forced his attention from the beauty behind the bar. “What’s up?”

“What was the fight over?” Eli asked.

Fisher shook his head. “George Carson was upset and I was the one he decided to take it out on.”

“His mistake.” Shawn was looking at him with the same intensity Kylee had. “Sounds like a hothead.”

Fisher nodded, wondering how many hotheads were in Kylee and Shawn’s past.

“Come on.” Eli pushed Shawn’s shoulder. “You can draw later.”

Shawn shoved his sketchbook into the worn canvas bag slung over his shoulder. “Okay.”

“Y’all have fun.” Fisher smiled. “But stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” Eli said. Shawn nodded, giving his sister a quick wave. Fisher glanced back at Kylee, catching sight of her sweet smile again. When she smiled like that, he couldn’t do a thing but stare at her.

Renata joined him. “Looks like Archer’s out of luck,” she murmured.

Fisher frowned at his sister. “Aw, come on, Renata—”

“You might as well stop now. I know you, baby brother. You’re done for.” She was born three minutes before he was and loved to use her “seniority” when able. She patted his arm. “And if you keep looking at her like that, everyone’s going to know it. You’ve never had much of a poker face.”

Chapter Three

Fisher dropped to his knees in the parking lot of the vet school, keeping well away from the edge of the beat-up Jeep. A growl greeted him. His gaze met that of the very angry, very disoriented bobcat crouched smack-dab in the middle under the Jeep. Dammit.

“He’s in the middle,” Fisher announced, seeing two pairs of vet students’ feet—too far back to do much good. He knew these kids were scared, and he didn’t blame them. But if this was going to be their job they needed to learn how to handle difficult situations with hostile animals. Technically, it was a pretty sweet training opportunity. This was one of the reasons he loved his job—he liked a little danger now and then. As long as everything turned out right in the end. Just now, they needed to help this animal. The bobcat was breathing hard, clearly in distress.

“I need the catch pole,” Fisher called out, but the students’ feet didn’t move.

The cat looked around nervously.

“Now,” he spoke again, trying to keep things calm. If they didn’t get the animal lassoed, it would end up running onto the highway. He didn’t want to see that happen.

The vet students’ feet moved, both of them.

“One of you needs to stay there,” he spoke again while mentally cursing the situation. Where was Archer? He could use some experienced backup on this one—just in case.

The cat’s ears perked up as it looked at him.

Fisher smiled. “Don’t suppose you’d let me take you inside? So we can get you fixed up?”

The cat lay down, still panting.