shuttling guests to town.
Honest to God, she’d completely forgotten she now owned a cat until she’d opened the door to her pickup and found a note propped on the steering wheel from Gunnar saying Tux (no tomcat worth his kibble was going to answer to Timmy, he’d explained) was locked in his office. He’d be out doing fire chief work most of the day, so Katy was free to retrieve her new pet.
She’d found Tux curled up on a fleece inside an open drawer of a file cabinet, sleeping off what appeared to be a cinnamon bun hangover, judging from the dried icing on his ears and the smell of cinnamon on his breath. Their first night together had been . . . interesting, as apparently any tomcat worth his kibble was nocturnal.
Tux wasn’t all that impressed being stuck inside their cabin, either, when there were wonderful sounds and smells and softly scurrying critters on the other side of the thin material. Oh yeah. Not only did her roof leak, it now also let in mosquitoes thanks to the hole he’d clawed in the door screen.
But despite nearly dying in a moving vehicle, the cat apparently loved riding in her pickup, sprawled on top of the back seat with his nose only inches from the side window she’d opened a crack. He also liked riding in boats, Katy had discovered when she’d met up with Peg MacKeage at the marina. Tux had sat on the pontoon’s raised back deck with his nose in the air and his eyes half closed in pleasure as they’d cruised up the fjord to Peg and Duncan’s house, where he’d then found a virtual army of kids to play with and a barn full of new cat buddies.
Katy had actually thought about leaving Tux at Peg’s, but the little imp had already purred his way into her heart. And really, he acted more like a dog than a cat. She didn’t even have to mess with litter boxes, because apparently no tomcat worth his kibble would even think about doing his business in a silly plastic box filled with fake dirt.
Seeing Tux had decided the popcorn was finally dead enough to eat, Katy tossed down another piece, then snapped the cover over the large tub and set it inside the canvas bag she’d brought for carrying snacks out to the campfires. Lord, she hoped someone showed up tonight, having made a point to tell everyone she knew in town to tell everyone they knew that the firehouse campfires were open to the public. Heck, she’d even told people at the campground.
She’d felt so foolish sitting all by herself for nearly an hour at the first one and could have hugged Jake when he’d walked up and handed her a cup of cocoa—that is, until she’d realized why he was there and that she hadn’t had a clue what to do about it. And then she’d nearly jumped up and hugged Gunnar when he’d come out and sat down beside her—that is, until she’d realized why he was there and turned into a giddy schoolgirl. In fact, the real reason she’d gone to her truck was to take off the turtleneck she’d had on under her flannel shirt, she’d been so hot and bothered.
“I hope you know those campfires are going to bite us all in the ass.”
Katy turned with an armful of snacks she’d purchased at the Trading Post to see Gretchen standing beside the table peering into the canvas bag. Sighing, she said, “Yeah? And why is that?”
“Every Tom, Dick, and jag-off in this community already feels free to butt in on what we do. But don’t let our jobs interfere with your coffee klatch.”
“I’m sorry,” Katy said, deciding to get to the bottom of the lady’s problem. “Have I said or done something to offend you?”
“Yeah, you got hired.”
“And that offends you because . . . ?”
Gretchen scooped up Tux when he started twining around her legs, then cuddled him to her chest and slowly smoothed his fur—the woman’s gentleness in stark contrast to her obvious disdain for his owner. Or maybe occasional roommate and meal ticket was a more accurate take on their relationship.
“I started in public and private stations over twenty-six years ago,” Gretchen said in an acidic tone, “in what was then a male-dominated profession. I’ve been kicked, spit on, punched, and even stabbed, and it’s cost me backaches, heartaches, an untold number of friends, and two husbands to finally