be a terrible joke.”
His lips thinned. He didn’t want her having hysterics, but she had to realize this was life or death. “I’m serious, Lynne,” he insisted. “Do you have any family you can stay with?”
“No.”
He glanced toward the nearby door. It was perfectly fine for keeping out the winter wind, but one good kick would shatter it. “You can’t stay here alone.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Kir finished his coffee and rose to his feet. “I’ll get my things.”
Chapter 12
It was five thirty on Sunday morning when Lynne’s phone rang. She was out of bed and pulling on her clothes before she finished the call.
Unlike most professionals, Lynne worked with creatures who had no respect for the fact that it was her day off. Or that the snow was tumbling through the air in thick swirls. Like feathers escaping from a busted pillow.
She’d tried to be quiet as she crept through the darkened house, but she was still pulling on her heavy boots when Kir appeared from her father’s bedroom, already dressed.
Lynne hadn’t bothered to argue with him as they left the house to drive over the icy roads to the distant farm. She was still freaked out from the picture that’d been left on her shed. She wasn’t eager to be completely alone in such an isolated location.
And honestly, it was unexpectedly nice to have someone to chat with as she plowed her truck through the snowstorm. She enjoyed her own company most of the time, but Kir was easy to be around. Smart, interesting, and comfortable with silence when she wasn’t in the mood to talk.
It surprised her. When they were young Kir had seemed so shallow. Now she was beginning to realize that he used his reckless charm as an armor to hide his sensitive heart.
Because she kept her speed at a snail’s pace to avoid ending up in a ditch, it took almost two hours to reach the farm. Once there, she’d tried to convince Kir to stay in the truck. Not only was it going to be insanely cold in the barn, but she also suspected her work was going to involve a lot of blood.
She’d been right. The pygmy goat had managed to catch his leg on a barbed wire fence and ripped open his flesh down to the bone. It’d taken over an hour to suture the flesh back together. And then another half an hour with the owner so she could express her profuse gratitude. Which meant it was past eleven when they arrived back in town.
Relieved to be on roads that had been packed down by other vehicles, Lynne glanced over at Kir. He’d been quiet on the drive back, and his handsome face was paler than usual.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He sent her a wry smile. “That’s not for the faint of stomach.”
“I warned you to stay in the truck.”
“I wanted to see you in action,” he insisted. “I’m impressed.”
She turned her attention back to the road. There was a steady stream of traffic as the citizens of Pike headed to church. “Because I stitched up a goat?”
“Because you climbed out of bed at five thirty in the morning and drove through a blinding snowstorm to stitch up a goat.”
“Seesaw is like family to Jemma. She would be devastated if she lost him.”
He turned in his seat, his coat whispering softly against the worn leather upholstery. “You devote so much of yourself to caring for others. Who cares for you?”
Her heart gave a funny jerk. As if it was reacting to some deeper meaning in his soft question.
“I have my father.” She cleared a sudden lump from her throat, eager for a distraction. She found it in the small, red brick building with a towering steeple that was just ahead of them. “Isn’t that Pastor Bradshaw’s church?”
Without warning, Kir was leaning forward, his body stiff with tension. “Pull over.”
She whipped the truck against the curb across the street from the church. “What’s wrong?”
Kir pointed toward the graveled parking lot. “That van.”
Lynne studied it in confusion, not sure why he was so interested. “That’s the delivery van from Randi’s flower shop.”
“Why would it be parked at the church?”
She shrugged. “I suppose they’re going to have Randi’s funeral here.”
“Rita said Randi attended church in Grange,” he told her. “She didn’t think the churches in Pike were fancy enough for Randi’s taste.”
Lynne’s lips parted to point out her family might want a local funeral, only to have the words