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kiss across her cheek before she could dodge it. “Enjoy your walk, Cinnamon. I’ll see you later.”

Then Colt Rafferty strolled casually away—a real feat, considering he had to tromp through snow up to his knees in some places.

As Sage watched him go, rather than the relief she expected, frustration swirled inside her. She felt the need to take one final shot. “Is that a threat, Rafferty?”

He halted and slowly turned around. The cold air fogged his breath as he called, “Nope, it’s a promise. And while we’re on the subject, there are a couple things about me that you should know, darlin’, because they’re written in stone.”

“Oh, yeah?” she called back, even as she silently asked herself, Why am I acting like a nine-year-old?

“Yeah. And here they are. First, I always keep my promises, and second, Dr. Anderson, I always collect my debts.”

With that, he gave a wave and continued his trek toward his cabin.

Sage blew out a long breath. This could be trouble. He could be trouble.

No, he was trouble. A mountain of trouble. How had he managed to snag the house next door as his rental? That was all she needed!

She watched him through the window as he plowed his way through the snow with relative ease. Those shoulders. That walk. That confidence.

Those blasted dimples.

All within a stone’s throw. Or a mad dash. She blew out a breath that fogged the window glass. Despite the winter chill in the air, she felt flushed.

Lighten up on yourself, Anderson. She wasn’t blind. Or dead. A woman would have to be dead not to be affected by Colt Rafferty.

And the audacity of the man! She owed him a kiss? Why, he could kiss her … Oh, dear.

Now Sage needed exercise more than ever, so she quickly donned her snowshoes and headed out. She walked hard, moving fast, pumping her arms and trying not to think about Colt Rafferty or kisses or how exhausted she was. She refused to think about nightmares. Or Africa. Or Peter. Eventually she worked off her snit and found the peace she was seeking. Some might call it the Zen effect at work. For Sage, it was the magic of Eternity Springs.

She turned and retraced her steps. Now she was able to enjoy and appreciate the beauty of a lakeside hike in a mountain valley on a sunny winter afternoon. She returned home shortly before dusk, weary but relaxed—until she spied the insulated cooler on her porch at the base of her front door.

Tensing, Sage glanced around suspiciously. She expected to see Colt dart out from behind a bush or a tree or pop up from beneath the snow. Energy hummed in her blood, and she was dismayed to realize the sensation wasn’t anger or frustration but rather anticipation.

Only Colt didn’t show. A full minute passed, and she was still alone.

Studying the ground, she counted the tracks between her house and his rental. Two sets, coming and going. “Okay,” she murmured. “Unless he flew over here, he has come and gone. Good. That’s good.”

She insisted to herself that she actually meant it.

She climbed her porch steps, then bent over the cooler and unzipped the lid. Inside, she found a covered stoneware pot wrapped in kitchen towels. The spicy aroma teased her senses and, in spite of her misgivings, brought a smile to her face.

Colt Rafferty had brought her a bowl of chili.

Midmorning the following day, Colt opened the door of the Eternity Springs Veterinary Clinic and stepped inside. “Hello, Mountain Girl.”

Nic Callahan looked up from her paperwork. “Summer Boy!” She rose to welcome him with a hug. “This is a lovely surprise. I didn’t think you visited Eternity Springs in the off-season.”

“Ordinarily I don’t,” he replied, returning her embrace. “I got sent to detention at work, and this seemed like a good place to serve my sentence.”

He took a step back and studied her. She looked a little tired, but more lovely than ever, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt over a knit tee. “You look great, Nicole.”

“Thank you. I feel great. The girls have both slept through the night every night for two weeks. That’s a record.”

“Congratulations.” He glanced around the clinic and asked, “So, where are the little princesses? I’m anxious to see them. Do you have them in a kennel or something?”

She laughed. “Oh, I won’t kennel my girls until they start crawling. They’re with their daddy this morning—he bought a building on Fourth Street that he’s remodeling—but they should be home in

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