Page 41 of Through the Fire
“I don’t know.” Crouching down, he absently picked up a few small pebbles, his brain fully occupied with the mystery that was K9 Officer Kit Jernigan. “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Hang on. I think I need to get comfortable for this conversation.” There were a few rustling noises, and then Leila spoke again. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s start with the first time you met. Tell me what happened.”
“I needed propane, so I refilled my tank at the station on the southeast side of town. I wanted to be back home before things got busy—”
“Wesley,” she interrupted. “I’ve been to your Podunk town, remember? It never gets busy. There are, like, ten buildings and eight people total.”
“The population of Monroe—”
“Nope. Don’t care. Tell me the story.”
It never hurt his feelings when Leila cut him off like that. In fact, he appreciated her directness. It was easier than trying to guess what a person was thinking by their body language or tactful words. “Four days ago, I was driving west on Mule Drive at six fifty-four, but I was forced to stop due to an SUV backing a small utility trailer into a driveway.” He frowned at the memory. “Attempting to back a small utility trailer into a driveway.”
“Go on. No, wait! Let me guess. Did you save this woman from getting run over?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Go on, then. What did happen?”
Wes smiled slightly. His sister was terrible at listening to stories. She didn’t have any patience, wanting to rush right to the conclusion instead. “After talking with the driver, I didn’t think she’d move the trailer into the driveway efficiently—which meant I’d be late—so I got out of my truck in order to help.”
“She was the driver?” Her voice was hushed, amusing Wes.
“Yes.”
“That’s so romantic!”
His eyebrows scrunched together. “It is?”
“Well, not really, I guess. I think I’m just anticipating that it’s going to be romantic soon. Go on! Get to the good part!”
He hesitated. “I’m not sure what you’d consider the good part.”
Her gusty sigh was audible. “Just tell me the rest. I’m dying of curiosity here!”
“I helped her get the trailer into her driveway and unhitched it.”
“And then?”
“She drove away.”
There was a long beat of silence. “That’s disappointing.”
“It was.”
“Did she tell you her name, at least?”
Wes found himself smiling. “Yes. Kit Jernigan.”
“Kit,” Leila repeated, trying out the name. “I like it. It sounds unpretentious and a bit sporty, but clever, too.”
“She is all of those things.”
“What does she look like? I bet she’s pretty.”
“She’s beautiful.” His face was flushing again. He could feel the heat as he pictured Kit in his mind—her taut, subtle curves and the warmth in her almond-shaped eyes and the eight freckles dotting the bridge of her nose.
Leila cleared her throat loudly.
