Page 25 of Jewel of the Sea

“Is she a ranger, too?”

“She is. It was pretty hard on her, growing up. She had a soft spot for animals since she was little.” The fondness in his voice was unmistakable.

Aymee smiled. “You two are close?”

“We are. Our father tends to keep her nearby when he sends me out, though. He thinks we soften each other up too much to be effective, or some krullshit like that.” He frowned and glanced at Aymee. “Sorry. Rangers don’t usually mind their language.”

“It’s all right. I’ve heard a lot worse treating injuries in town.”

“How about you, Aymee? You have a brother, right?”

The leather strap of her satchel bit into her neck, rubbing uncomfortably against her skin. After adjusting it and finding little relief, she finally lifted the bag over her head and laid it on the bar. “Yes, Andrew. We’re not close. My parents had difficulty after he was born, some complications, miscarriages. He was already nine by the time they had me.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t met him yet. I’ve been talking to as many people as I can since I got here.”

“He hasn’t been in The Watch for a few years.” She smirked. “My family has its own trade that’s been passed down through generations. My father started bringing us to the clinic with him when we were young and taught us the family trade while we grew up. When Andrew was old enough to strike out on his own, he started traveling to other towns to provide his services where needed. He ended up meeting a woman in one of those towns, and he’s lived there with her ever since.”

“I’ve been to a lot of places,” Randall said, absently rotating his mug, “and met a lot of people. Everyone always talks about going somewhere else, about how much better it’ll be, how much more exciting…but it all gets to be the same after a point. At least he found happiness. That’s all anyone can hope for, right?”

Aymee’s thoughts shifted to Macy. Macy, who’d been unhappy for years after losing her sister, who felt like she always had to do more, tobemore, to atone for the pain she’d caused. It had taken her own near drowning and a rescue from Jax to push Macy to take control of her life and choose happiness.

As Aymee opened her mouth to answer, a heavy arm fell over her shoulder. Cider — fortunately cooled enough not to burn — sloshed over her hand. The stench of alcohol and sweat hit her nose.

“Look at you, Randy, talking up the locals.” The man peered at her. “Isn’t this that fish-lover?” he asked, grinning broadly between Randall and Aymee.

Aymee recognized the cruelty in his smile. He was the man who’d laughed when she said the rangers had come to The Watch for themselves. She pushed her mug aside and frowned. “Please remove your arm.”

“She’s a pretty thing,” the man said, turning his head toward her, his breath hot against her ear.

“Cyrus, get the hell off her,” Randall warned.

“I’m just trying to be friendly, Randy. Isn’t that what you told us to do?”

“Sir, if you do not get off me, I will make you,” Aymee said patiently.

Randall pushed his stool away from the bar and stood up. Cyrus removed his arm from Aymee and stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender; he held a glass of beer in one. He looked to be in his late forties, his tanned skin weather-worn and his short beard flecked with gray, but he was tall and well-built.

“Relax, kid. We’re on the same team, me and you, right?” Though his speech was slurred and his stance unsteady, there was a hardness in his eyes that belied a deeper meaning to his words.

“We are. Which is why you’re going to apologize to Miss Rhodes and hit your bunk.”

Randall and Cyrus stared at one another for several tense seconds.

“Pulling rank doesn’t work the way you think, kid. Not out here,” Cyrus said in a low voice before turning to Aymee. “Name’s Cyrus Taylor, miss, and I’m awful sorry. Your town has some of the best booze I’ve ever had, and I seem to have partaken a bit heavily.”

“That’s all right. Just make sure you drink plenty of water before you hit that bunk.” She slid off her stool and smoothed down her skirt.

Cyrus chuckled. “You’re the doc’s daughter, right?”

“Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting late.” She smiled at Randall and picked up her satchel. “Thank you for the company.”

“I’m sorry, Aymee. You don’t have to go,” Randall said.

“It’s okay, ma—”

“Whatcha got here?” Cyrus snatched her bag and flipped it open before she could stop him.

Her eyes rounded as he pulled out several of her sketches. She lunged forward, grabbing for the papers. “Stop!”

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