hearing very soon. Good job, Boone. If you ever want to work for me…?”
“I’d never fit in,” Boone told him. “I use real curse words.”
Hayes made a face at him. “‘Crackers and Milk’ is a perfectly good curse,” he informed his friend.
“Ha!”
Hayes left with his dignity intact.
Boone moved to the bed and tugged Keely up into his arms, careful not to jar her sore arm. “And now we can concentrate on happier times,” he said gently, smiling as he kissed her with breathless tenderness.
* * *
SHE HAD A room next to Winnie’s upstairs, the most beautiful bedroom she’d ever seen in her life. She was afraid to walk on the carpet, which was pure white, dramatic against the blue curtains and bedspread and the blue tile in the bathroom.
“Gosh, the bathroom is bigger than my whole bedroom at home,” she exclaimed when Boone carried her in and laid her on the bed.
“We like a lot of space,” he told her, smiling. “Comfortable?”
She sank into fathoms of feathery softness. “Oh, yes!”
Winnie and Clark came in behind them, bearing flowers and fruit.
“The flowers came from the girls at your office,” Winnie told her, “and the fruit’s from Dr. Rydel.”
“Does he often send you presents?” Boone asked darkly.
“Only when I get bitten by rattlesnakes and end up in the hospital,” she told him solemnly.
Winnie and Clark burst out laughing.
Boone flushed a little. “Cut it out,” he muttered. He pulled his hat low over his eyes. “I’ve got to get the boys working out on the west pasture. I’ll be back in time for supper.” He grinned at Keely. “When you’re better, you can make us some more yeast rolls.”
She laughed, flattered that he’d liked them. “Okay.”
“But not yet,” he cautioned.
She saluted him. He laughed out loud, winked at his siblings, and left them with Keely.
“Imagine that.” Winnie sighed, smiling. “You and Boone.”
Keely flushed. “He’s just being kind.”
“Do you think so?” Clark mused. “I don’t.”
“Shoo,” Winnie told her brother. “I’m going to settle Keely, then I have to go in and work for a few hours. I’m on a split shift this week.”
“You’re worth a fortune, and you’re working for wages.” Clark sighed.
Winnie made a face at him. “I like working for wages.”
Clark’s eyes twinkled. “You like working with Kilraven.”
Winnie blushed. “He’s just one of the guys I work with, now that I’m working dispatch full-time.”
Clark wiggled both eyebrows and laughed as he walked out.
“Besides,” Winnie told her best friend, “Kilraven doesn’t like me.”
Keely had doubts about that, but she didn’t say a word. She just smiled.
Winnie helped her get into a flower-print ankle-length cotton gown with short puffy sleeves and a high neckline. She winced at the scars. “You poor thing,” she said with genuine sympathy. “It must have been so painful!”
Keely lost her self-consciousness at that expression. “Most people would have said how horrible it looks. Yes, it was terrible. The first few days were the worst of my life. And then, even when it started healing, there were the scars.” She shivered and leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. “But I guess it was really a blessing in disguise, because Jock had just gotten out of prison after two years, and he came on to me the day he got back. The scars were all that saved me from him. He thought I was repulsive.” She looked at Winnie meaningfully. “I was thirteen years old,” she said bitterly.
Winnie sat down on the bed beside her and squeezed her hand. “Some men are animals,” she said gently. “Men used to come on to me when I went to parties because they knew who I was, who my family was. They didn’t really want me, they wanted the wealth and power I had access to. Boone spent a lot of time making threats.” She laughed. “That’s why I like working for the emergency management center,” she added. “Some of the newer people don’t even know I come from a wealthy background. They treat me like everybody else. It’s flattering.”
Keely was curious. “Kilraven knows who you are.”
Winnie nodded. She frowned. “It’s odd, isn’t it, that he doesn’t seem to mind.” She hesitated, looking down at her lap. “But most of the time he treats me just like he does the other dispatchers.”
“I’ve always dreamed about Boone,” Keely said. “I never thought he might feel the same way about me.”
Winnie laughed. “I had a hunch about that when he went off and beat up the private detective,” she mused. “That’s not like Boone.