“If that’s how she reacts . . . maybe we oughtn’t give her the Wyoming version of that drink,” Garnet said.

“Wait. You’ve had this shot before?”

“Yep. Didn’t do much for us so we tweaked it a bit.”

“How?” Tanna demanded.

Bernice grinned. “You want us to tell you? Or are you game to try one?”

A challenge? Bring it. “Let’s see whatcha got.”

Pearl clapped her hands with glee, grabbed the tray and headed to the bar.

When Tanna looked over, Sherry gave her a you’re in for it now headshake.

They had to be bluffing.

Tanna believed that when Pearl delivered the shots. She even believed it during the “to Wyoming, the equality state” toast. But the instant that sweet, hot and blistering heat singed the lining of her throat, caused her lungs to seize up, and every hair on her body to stand on end, she wanted to cry uncle, swear she’d never doubt them again just to make it stop.

Bernice whacked her on the back with a sharp, “Breathe.”

She sputtered. Coughed. Sucked in great gulps of air. Luckily she didn’t throw up. God. She’d never live that down. After she wiped her streaming eyes, she glanced at the faces peering back at her. Not a single one of them had even broken a sweat.

“Oh. My. Lord. Are y’all fixin’ to kill me?”

Laughter.

“What was that evil concoction?”

“It’s called a Wyoming wildfire. Everclear, cinnamon schnapps, topped with habanero hot sauce.”

Tanna drained half her beer in an attempt to vanquish the fire. Then she choked out, “Where’d you get the habanero sauce?”

Pearl pulled a bottle out of her purse. “Always carry some with me. Most food is so bland.”

Unreal.

“Who’s up for a pink panty dropper shot?” Garnet asked.

“Not me. I need to—”

“Grow some balls?” Tilda intoned sweetly.

What the hell?

“It’ll take at least two more shots for you to live up to that Texas wild woman reputation we’ve heard about,” Bernice warned.

Hey. Was the senior set looking at her with pity? Screw that. “Fine. A panty dropper and a . . . ?”

“Zombie killer,” they said in unison.

Jesus. “Do I even want to know what’s in it?”

“Nope. But I suggest you limit yourself to one.”

Two shots later, Tanna decided she was done drinking for the night. She switched to Coke, but drank out of a lowball glass so the Mud Lilies didn’t know she’d quit drinking and wouldn’t accuse her of being a Texas marshmallow.

Tanna had passed some kind of test and the ladies embraced her like a long lost granddaughter. She hadn’t felt this much warmth and personal connection for longer than she cared to think about. She laughed. Listened to outrageous stories that had to be true.

Then the guys showed up, much to the ladies’ delight. It was sweet and amusing how these women had wrapped the young, strapping cowboys around their fingers. Tobin, Hugh, Ike, Max and Holt served as guardians and dance partners.

She felt a pang of disappointment Fletch wasn’t with them. And she had too much pride to ask his friends whether he planned to join them later.

At first her misgivings about getting involved with Fletch had been based on her temporary resident status in Wyoming. But now, knowing the doc’s brutal work schedule, getting involved with him would likely be a recipe for loneliness.

Tobin caught her eye. “Everything all right?”

“It will be when you dance with me.”

He grinned. Lord. Why couldn’t she fall for a sweetie pie like him? Tobin was good-looking. Built. Smart. Eager. She could totally train him to be the kind of man she wanted in bed.

But Fletch already is the type of man you need. Experienced. Bossy. Playful. Intense.

“Tanna?” Tobin said softly.

Her focus shifted back to him. “Sorry. I think that zombie killer drink ate part of my brain.”

“Probably.” Tobin held out his hand, helping her to her feet. “Word of advice. Run if them gals mention pixie dust drinks. Sounds like an innocent girlie concoction, right?”

“Right.”

“Wrong.” He led her onto the dance floor. “Let’s just say I still have no recollection of the deputy sheriff hauling my ass home or why I thought it’d be a good idea to sleep bare-nekkid in a lounge chair on my deck.”

Tanna couldn’t help but laugh.

“So now that you’re in a good mood, can I ask when you’re gonna go out with me?”

“I’m dancing with you, aren’t I?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“I’m older than you.”

He winked. “Just means you’ll be impressed by my youthful stamina.”

“True. But it’s also true that I’ve got a lot of baggage.”

“Isn’t it ironic I used to be a baggage handler at the Split Rock?”

She smiled at him, completely charmed. Too bad she’d met another too-charming guy first.

And Tanna’s feet missed a step when she saw him walk in the door.

Chapter Thirteen

One benefit of hanging with the Mud Lilies? No one approached him for animal care advice because most people in town were scared of them.

In the last half hour Fletch had kicked back and caught up with the women who absolutely cracked his ass up. They’d thanked him for introducing Cora to their group, but Garnet and Vivien purposely distracted him when he’d asked Cora’s whereabouts on a Saturday night.