“Kinsey’s mama cat had babies, and this little girl looked like a good mouser to me.” Quaid smiled.

“Thank you. I’ll take good care of her.” Jill cuddled it up against her face and talked baby talk to the critter.

“I’m glad you like her. Maybe I’ll give you a call later this week, and we can plan something for Sunday?” Quaid said.

“Sawyer and I had plans for yesterday that got interrupted, so we’ll be real busy next Sunday while we make up time. But thank you for the kitten,” she said.

Quaid blushed. “Well, then maybe the next week. See you at Polly’s sometime.”

He was gone before Jill could say another word.

Sawyer reached over and scratched the kitten’s ears. “Did you see the expression on his face? We might not be able to prove it, but we were right. That was the face of a kidnapper, right there.”

“You want to hold her?” she asked.

“No, you go on and spoil her. It’s your cat. What are you going to name her?”

“Ollie,” she said quickly.

“I can see you’ve given this cat idea a lot of thought. Why Ollie?” he asked.

“It’s the pig’s name on a kid’s animated movie called Home on the Range.”

His dark brows drew down into a single line and then shot straight up. “You are wicked, Jillian Cleary.”

“But I’m in a much better mood. A little retail therapy and a new kitten works wonders on me.” She grinned up at him.

“So what did you buy? Oh. My. God! Is that a misprint or did whatever come in this box cost that much?” He pointed.

“Oh, yeah. I expect Kinsey wears them to work. And eight hundred dollars for Prada is on the low end of the scale,” Jill said.

“Do you…?”

She shook her head before he could finish the sentence. “Not on your life. I could buy two pair of Lucchese boots for that price, and they’d last a hell of a lot longer and never go out of style. You sure you don’t want to hold Ollie?”

He reached out, and she put the kitten in his hands. “Here piggy, piggy.” He smiled. “Your real name might be Ollie, but I’m going to teach you to come runnin’ when I holler piggy, piggy, instead of kitty, kitty.”

“And you call me wicked,” Jill said.

Sawyer leaned across the counter and brushed a sweet but hot kiss across her lips. “To be so open with each other yesterday, we sure clammed up this morning, didn’t we? Aren’t people who sleep together supposed to talk more?”

“We aren’t sleeping together,” she argued.

“Yes, we are. We aren’t having sex, but we are sleeping together. Every Sunday so far, and I liked it,” he said. “You can sleep with us, little piggy, if you want to.” He scratched the kitten’s belly, and she rolled over in his arms like a baby and shut her eyes. “Right now, I need to stir a pot of chili I’ve got going on the stove. You can go with me if your new mommy trusts me.”

“I’m not that cat’s mommy, and, yes, I trust you. Here, take her box in case you need to put her down while you stir,” she said.

She went back to her tablet and was busy plotting her next move in the pig war when the bell rang again, and there was Tyrell. At least he didn’t have a shoe box in his hand, or roses either, so that was a good thing.

“Hey, Jill. I missed seeing you in church yesterday,” he said.

I’m sure you did. I bet you even looked for me and Sawyer when you got to your destination and the back of that van was empty, she thought.

“Sawyer and I went for a hike,” she said.

“Well, I overheard Gladys telling Polly that you had a mouse problem at the bunkhouse, so I went out in our barn and rustled up a kitten for you.” He pulled a yellow ball of fur from his pocket and handed it to her by the scruff of the neck. “You’ll have to tame her. She’s a little wild.”

The kitten spit at her and growled, but after a minute of gentle petting, it was as tame as Ollie.

“So do you like her?” Tyrell asked.

“She’s cute as a newborn chicken,” Jill said.

“She’s a cat, not a chicken.”

Jill pushed the issue. “But her fur is the same color as a fresh-hatched chicken.”

“I guess it is. Well, I’ve got to go. Hope she’s a good mouser,” Tyrell said. “You got time for a picnic lunch anytime this week?”

“Looks like a busy week on Fiddle Creek, but thanks for the kitten. I’m sure she’ll love the bunkhouse.”

“You might want to ask your roommate if he’s allergic to cats. If he is, I’ll take the kitten back to the barn out on Wild Horse.”

Jill smiled up at Tyrell. Was he the one who had been wearing a mask and had taken them from one van to the other? Or had he been one of the first kidnappers? She couldn’t tell. It had been dark, and they were all tall men wearing cowboy boots.

“Sawyer loves cats even more than I do. He might even claim this one for his very own,” she said.

Tyrell frowned. “I brought it to you.”

“And I really do thank you.”

“See you at Polly’s sometime this week.”

“I’ll be the one filling pitchers behind the bar,” she said.

He shut the door behind him when he left, but a gust of cold air breezed across her face all the same. “Now that’s fitting, isn’t it, Audrey? Kidnap me and then bring a present to cover it up. Pretty damn cold, if you ask me.”

“Did I hear someone talking?” Sawyer asked.

She held up the yellow kitten. “Her name is Audrey because…”

“I watched that movie with Finn’s kids. Audrey is the name of a chicken, right?”

She nodded.

“So Quaid brought a playmate for Piggy here?”

“No, Tyrell did.”

His laughter echoed off the walls. “Well, come on over here Chick and meet Piggy. We’ll see if the Gallaghers and Brennans can get along in feline form.”

They set them on the floor behind the counter, and the two sniffed each other. Audrey reached out and swatted Ollie, who promptly swatted back, and then they jumped three inches straight up and landed in a bundle of fur, kicking and biting each other.

“The feuding blood runs deep,” Jill said.

“Not necessarily. They’re playing, not fighting. They think they are sisters,” Sawyer said.

They stopped, flopped down beside each other, and fell asleep with Audrey curled up in the middle of Ollie’s stomach.

“Aha,” Sawyer said. “And the pig and the chicken shall lie down behind the counter in peace. Think we’ll live to see the day the Gallaghers and the Brennans make friends?”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath. I don’t look good in that shade of blue, and don’t be getting too close to me after almost blaspheming the holy word.” Jill laughed.

He started around the counter. “Why is that?”

She backed all the way up to the far end, beside the cash register. “Because if lightning shoots out of the sky, I don’t want to be the one it gets instead of you.”

“Here comes lightning.” He pinned her hands behind her back.

She barely had time to moisten her lips before his closed in on hers. He was dead right. It was electrifying, sending jolts of pure desire shooting through her whole body. She wanted Sawyer, plain and simple.

“Ouch,” he said when he broke the scorching kiss.

“I didn’t bite you.”

He pointed to his leg. Audrey was climbing it like it was a tree.

She reached down and picked the yellow kitten from his jeans and held her close. Did fate intervene in the form of a kitten, so they wouldn’t take the kissing business to the next level? Was it trying to tell her to pay more attention to the Gallaghers, since it was Audrey who had put a stop to things?

“I had no idea that chicks could claw like that,” he said.

“They can’t, but cats can,” Jill said. “And now it’s closing time. We’d best load up enough of that chili for our supper and put the rest in the refrigerator for later. We have to take these critters home before we go to the bar. I won’t have them inhaling all that cigarette smoke. I’ll get a bag of litter and a couple of cans of food from the shelves if you’ll take care of the chili.”