Page 40 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

He slipped his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. “Start small. What is your last name?”

“Smith.”

He tossed her hand away. “You’re lying.”

“I am not. That’s my actual last name.”

“I’m not certain I believe you, but you have a nice hand, so I’m willing to keep holding it,” he said, sneaking back to pick up her fingers and caress them.

“I’d like to see a Venn diagram of the things you say and the things serial killers say because I think there’s probably a lot of overlap,” Celeste said.

“Tell me what you did for The Colonel, and I’ll help you make one,” Sam offered.

She shook her head.

He stared at her in frowning frustration. “Your skin is perfect.”

“That’s going on the diagram,” she told him and Avery arrived with their food.

As they left the diner, someone else called Celeste’s name. She turned in time to see Maybe begin to dart across the road, right in front of a pickup truck. Before she could be flattened, a cowboy darted after her,picking her up around the waist and sweeping her out of harm’s way.

“Maybe, there issomeoccasional traffic here. Woman, you have to look,” the cowboy said, setting her down. “Dadgum, blasted…” he might have continued, but Maybe mashed her palm over his mouth, cutting off the flow of angry words.

“They should know to look out for me by now,” Maybe replied, though she did check both ways before crossing this time, the cowboy in her wake with a grumpy expression. “Hi,” she said again, waving frantically to Celeste as though they were at a great distance and not right next to each other.

“Hi,” Celeste said, returning her wave with a weak flutter.

“I finished the list,” Maybe said.

“The list?” Celeste asked, her eyes flicking automatically to the cowboy in question. He shrugged, so obviously he wasn’t in on it.

“The LIST.Black teeth. Eligible cowboys. Although it looks like it might be a bit late for that.” She smiled up at Sam and held out her hand. “Maybe Montgomery.”

“Sam,” he said, shaking her hand with a charming smile. He gave off such a little boy cuteness in that moment that it was nearly impossible to reconcile him with the man who’d coldly threatened a beefy cowboy only a short while ago. He took Celeste’s hand and gave it a squeeze, making her realize she was wordlessly staring at him as she tried to puzzle the two sides of him.

“Sam and Celeste. That’s adorable,” Maybe declared. She rested her hand on the cowboy’s bicep, bringing him into the conversation. “This is my husband, Baird. He provides the sanity, I have pizzazz.”

“She has it in spades,” Baird affirmed, shaking both their hands. “Welcome to Paradise. I’ve heard a lot about you both.”

“Would you like to buy a rug?” Sam asked and Baird blinked at him, a deer in salesman headlights. “Joking,” Sam said.

Baird gave a relieved chuckle. “I didn’t think that particular rumor was true, but sometimes Paradise’s rumor mill is eerily prescient.”

“Did you come to help Celeste restart the orchard?” Maybe asked hopefully, clutching her hands together under her chin.

“Did I?” Sam asked, facing Celeste.

“That seems an insurmountable task at the moment,” Celeste replied, fighting a climbing rise of panic. It felt as though the entire town of Paradise was counting on her to revive an orchard when she had never seen an apple not in sauce form until she was in basic.

“We’ll think about it,” Sam promised, smiling at her when Celeste tossed him a frantic look.

“My son, Jack, is coming home in a couple of days. Guess what he does,” Maybe said.

“Poison snake milker,” Sam said, causing Celeste to dart him a look again. “What? She said to guess.”

“That would certainly make for more interesting party conversation, but no. He’s a mechanic,” Maybe said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Congratulations?” Celeste tried, not certain what the announcement had to do with her.

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