"About what?"
"About making a living."
"I've done all sorts of things." With a sizzling look, she took the cigar from him.
"I'll just bet you have," he murmured.
"Right now I'm an illustrator. Kids' books, mostly." Laughing, she passed the cigar back to him. "Doesn't quite fit the image, does it?"
"I don't know. I'd have to see some of your illustrations." He glanced up, and his lips curved. "Hey, Dev."
Savannah shifted to see the man who had just come in. He had the same dark, go-to-hell looks as Jared, a body that was tall and tough and rangy. The eyes were green, as well, but they were different.
She recognized the way they swept the room, checked for details, looked for trouble. Instinctively her muscles tightened, her face went blank. She didn't need the badge on his chest to tell her this was the sheriff. She could spot a cop at half a mile on a speeding horse. She could smell one at twenty paces.
"Saw your car." After one quick scan of the room, one quick smile for Cassie, Devin dropped into the booth beside his brother.
"Savannah Morningstar, Devin MacKade."
"Nice to meet you." An eyeful was Devin's first impression. Then he caught the chill, and wondered about it. "You bought the cabin? The doctor's place."
"That's right. It's my place now."
Not just a chill, he mused. Ice was forming. "That must be your kid I've run into out at the farm. Bryan, right?"
"Yes, Bryan's my son. He's well fed, he's in school, and he's had his shots. Excuse me, I'd better go see what the kids are up to.''
And straight into frostbite, Devin mused as she slid from the booth. He winced as the door swung to behind her. "Ouch. What the hell was that about?"
"I don't know," Jared murmured. "But I'm going to find out." He pulled bills out of his pocket.
"You want a guess?" Devin made way so that Jared could climb out of the booth. "The lady's had trouble with the law."
Damn, damn, damn. On the sidewalk, Savannah struggled to regain her composure. That had been stupid, she berated herself. That had been foolish. The trouble with letting yourself relax, she reminded herself, was that all sorts of nasty things could sneak up and bite you in the back.
Now that she was outside, her fists jammed into the snug pockets of her jeans, she realized that she didn't know what this Regan's shop was, much less where it was. All she wanted was to get her son and take him home.
"You want to tell me what just happened?" Jared stepped up behind her, touched a hand to her shoulder.
Savannah made herself take a careful breath before turning. "I finished my ice cream."
"Then maybe you should walk it off." He twined his fingers around her arm and had them quickly and fiercely shaken off.
"Don't take hold of me unless I ask you."
He felt the MacKade temper stir and clamped down on it. "Fine. Why don't you tell me why you were rude?"
"I'm often rude," she shot back. "Especially to cops. I don't like cops. They're one step down from lawyers. I'm not interested in socializing with either one. Which way are the kids?"
"It seems to me we were just socializing up a storm."
"Now we're not. Go back and talk law and order with your brother." The old fury, the old fears, wouldn't quite let go. "You can tell him to go ahead and run a make on me. I'm clean. I have valid employment, and money in the bank."
"Good for you," Jared said equably. "Why should Devin run a make on you?"
"Because cops and lawyers love to stick their noses in other people's business. That's what you've been doing with me ever since you drove up my lane. The way I live and the way I raise my son are my concern and nobody else's. So back off."
It was fascinating. Even through his own bubbling temper, it was fascinating to watch her simmer and spew. "I haven't gotten in your way yet, Savannah. You'll know when I do. Believe me, you'll know. Right now, I'm just asking for an explanation."