Rosey’s face lit up with a bright smile as she pointed a perfectly manicured fingernail at him. “You can stay. Shelby, get this man a beer.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Oh, please, don’t ‘ma’am’ me. The name’s Rosaline Marguerite Shaw with too many other former last names to get into.” The older woman stepped forward and held out her hand. “Everyone calls me Rosey.”
Shelby grabbed a cold beer from the cooler, watching as Dean shook hands with her boss and fell under her charming spell, just like every other man who met her. So why the sudden twist in her stomach?
“Dean Pritchett.” He leaned forward after ending the handshake, his forearms braced against the bar. “This is a nice place you got here, Rosey.”
“My last ex wanted his freedom more than he wanted the Hole. Sometimes I wonder who got the better end of the deal.”
Shelby plopped the icy bottle, twist cap still in place, on the bar. “That will be three bucks.”
Dean straightened and reached for his pocket.
Rosey waved off his efforts. “No need, sugar. This one is on the house.”
“Thanks, Rosey.” Dean spoke to her boss, but his deep green eyes were trained on Shelby.
His steady gaze bothered her more than she would admit. Why was he here? And coming by so late?
Not to mention he’s alone.
Shelby tried to ignore the little voice inside her that had to point out that fact. Again. It’d been years since a guy had managed to occupy any space in her head. There just wasn’t room with everything else she had going on in her life right now.
Rosey was right. For someone so young, she was an old soul and sometimes that old part seemed to reach out from deep inside her to take over every weary bone in her body.
“Shel, honey? Did you hear me?”
Blinking hard, Shelby realized she hadn’t heard a word her boss had said. Knowing Rosey, that wasn’t a good thing. “I’m sorry, what?”
Rosey’s deep red-painted lips twitched, as if she was fighting a losing battle with a grin. Oh, boy, Shelby was in trouble. What exactly had she missed? Her gaze flew to Dean, but he seemed very interested in the bowl of unshelled peanuts sitting on the bar that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
“I asked if the cash register is all set,” Rosey said.
“Oh, right. Yes. It’s ready to go.” Turning away, Shelby walked to the other end of the bar, her boss on her heels. She quickly opened the register, handing over the locked money bag knowing Rosey planned to take it home with her tonight.
Shutting the drawer with a push, she remembered something. “Hey, did you see my letter? I thought I left it tucked beneath the cash drawer.”
Rosey sighed. “I thought I told you to burn that thing after you showed it to me yesterday.”
She had, using a few colorful adjectives that were typical for Rosey. “I know, but—”
“But nothing. What did your mama say when you showed it to her?”
Shelby remained silent.
“She didn’t say anything because you never told her what you were doing in the first place.” Rosey guessed correctly. “Oh, sweetie. Why not? Your mama would have supported you.”
“I know that. She would have supported me so much that she couldn’t have kept her mouth shut about it. Everyone in Bee’s Beauty Parlor would have known and then...” Shelby’s voice faded for a moment. “I just didn’t want it to be public knowledge.”
“Look, you earned that degree the hard way. While I don’t even want to think about how it’d be harder than a whore’s heart to run this place without you, they should have considered themselves lucky to get you. Their loss.”
“They didn’t want me.” She kept her voice low. Damn, it still hurt more than it should to say those words aloud. “Even after all that volunteering I did last month with the summer school program...they didn’t want me.”
“Then they’re morons and I’m worried for the younger generation of this town.”
Shelby nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. “Thanks, Rosey.”
“Honey, you need to get your mind off all that stuff.” She tucked the money bag beneath one arm and cocked her head toward the end of the bar. “Something tells me that hunky cowboy could assist you in that endeavor.”
Pushing the strands of blond hair away from her face, Shelby refused to look even though she could feel his gaze on her. After last night it felt...familiar. “Pass.”
“You’re alone too much.”
“I’m never alone.” Shelby reminded her. “Not for the last five years and that’s exactly how I want it.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Yes, she did. It was a heated topic of discussion they’d shared in the past, but she just wasn’t up to it tonight. “Weren’t you on your way out?”
“Yes, I am, but you play nice. I have a feeling that young man came in here for a particular reason.”
Shelby had no doubt that was true. Nipping that reason in the bud was next on her to-do list. “Have a good night, boss.”
“Oh, honey, when my Sammy’s in town, it’s always a good night.” Rosey shot her a quick wink and then disappeared into the back.
Focusing her attention on the register, Shelby pressed the sequence of buttons to run the end-of-day reports and sent them to Rosey’s computer. She then logged off and shut down the machine.
No sense in putting off the inevitable, Shelby squared her shoulders and started back to the end of the bar.
“Oh, teacher, teacher...”
Shelby froze as Darlene Daughtry’s voice rang out across the bar. She looked over at the booth, spotting both her high school nemesis’s phony expression of innocence and the folded piece of white paper she fanned herself with.
Was that her letter? No, it couldn’t be!
“Oh, my bad. I guess I should have just called for a waitress.” Darlene’s pageant-practiced smile disappeared. “And you would have come running.”
Shock filled Shelby as she realized what Darlene held in her hand. Shock that gave way to a long-familiar, burning shame.
She hated that certain people in this town still had the ability to make her feel that way, after all these years, with just a few choice words.
For all her hard work, there were some things a person never stopped paying for no matter how much time had passed.
Refusing to give Darlene the satisfaction of rushing to the booth, but determined to get everyone out of this place, Shelby set her gaze straight ahead and kept walking, grabbing a nearby tray just so she’d have something to hang on to.
First things first.
Dean looked up as she approached. She expected to see a familiar flirty gleam in his eyes, the same look she’d seen so many times from so many others. His calm and steady gaze confused her, as did the still-unopened beer bottle in front of him despite the growing pile of peanut shells next to it. “Look, I know why you’re here. Not interested.”
“Excuse me?” He tapped the side of the bottle with one finger while cracking open another shell with a simple squeeze of his fist. “I just came in here for a beer.”
“Then I suggest you drink it because the bar is shut off and so am I.” Her mind flew back to the girl he’d been with last night. “Can I say it any plainer? I have zero interest in anyone who’s obviously already taken.”
He started to speak, but Shelby kept on walking. Rounding the end of the bar, she started for the booths, but a warm hand gripped her arm.
She spun around, jerking from his hold, an unnecessary move as he’d already let her go.
“You’re wrong,” Dean said.
The story of her life. “Am I?”
He moved in closer, his work-scarred boots snugging up against the tips of her sneakers. She automatically lifted the round tray to her chest, placing it between them, almost like a shield. Dean’s gaze dropped to the tray for a moment before he took a step back.
“I’m no
t taken.” He pressed a hand to the center of his chest as if to emphasize his words, his voice a low whisper. “Jazzy, the girl you saw me with last night, is an old friend from back home. She was having a rough time and just needed someone to talk to.”
Shelby pulled in a deep breath through her nose, fighting for control. It didn’t work. All she did was take in the clean, outdoorsy scent that seemed to radiate from this man, a scent that managed to make its way through the typical smoky and boozy odors of most who hung out in the bar.
Suddenly very tired, she was ready for everyone to leave. Including Dean Pritchett.
Grabbing the beer bottle off the bar, she pushed it against the back of his hand, forcing him to grab it before it crashed to the ground. “Well, I need to close up. Take your beer and find somewhere else to drink it.”
She spun away from him and stalked over to the booth where Darlene and her friends sat, ignoring how her heart hitched when she heard the Hole’s front door gently bang shut behind her.
“I’m afraid it’s closing time, ladies,” Shelby said with her best phony–customer service voice. “Are you all finished?”
“Hmm, are we finished?” Darlene spoke to her friends, ignoring Shelby as she propped a bent elbow on the table, her fingers tightened around a piece of paper in her hand.
“Oh, did you see the news today?” she continued, batting her mascara-heavy false eyelashes. “Preseason football starts this weekend. Isn’t that exciting?”
The other two smirked in unison. Shelby knew what was coming. The contents of the letter were just the tip of the sword that Darlene planned to jab right through her.
As much as Shelby tried to avoid any talk of the biggest news to hit Rust Creek Falls in decades, even with the flooding last month, it didn’t work. The extensive damage to the town had stemmed the tide a bit, but now things were looking better with the reconstruction going on, and suddenly everybody was a fan of a certain East Coast professional football team thousands of miles from here.
All because of local boy Zach Shute.
The best high school football player to come out of western Montana in years, Zach had graduated from college with a stellar career and was drafted in the first round. At twenty-four, he was a little bit older than most rookies, but his college days had been delayed for almost a year.
Thanks to Shelby.
“You must be very excited about Zach’s prospects.” Darlene looked at her now. “I heard professional ballplayers make very good money.”
All three girls turned to her and waited. “I wouldn’t know,” Shelby said, forcing the words out.
“Really? One would think you’d be the first in line to hit up that poor boy for a big fat check.” Her fingers relaxed and the letter fell to the table, soaking up the moisture from their now-empty glasses. “Seeing how your career as an educator seems to be over before it even started. But is that really such a surprise? Did you really think the town would want you teaching their children?”
Shelby’s fingers itched to snatch up the letter, but she wouldn’t give her old rival the satisfaction.
Not that it mattered. The contents had been short and sweet. Just two paragraphs telling her she’d been turned down for a teaching position at Rust Creek Falls Elementary School.
Despite the loss of the building in last month’s flood, the town was still planning to hold classes any way they could and now that she had her early-childhood education degree, she’d wanted to teach. Shelby had hoped a year in the local school system would add more cushion to her savings and give her some experience to help her find a job in a new city far away from Rust Creek Falls.
She’d done her student teaching in nearby Kalispell, but when she found out the elementary school had openings, she’d jumped at the chance to prove to everyone, to herself, that there was more to Shelby Jenkins than her dubious past.
None of that mattered now.
“I think it’s time for you all to leave.”
“Really?” The girl in the corner, Shelby couldn’t even remember her name, smirked. “We’re not the only ones still here, you know. What about that table of cowboys back in the corner? Why aren’t you kicking them out?”
“Probably because she wants to keep them all to herself.”
Darlene reached for her wallet and cell phone as the three of them scooted out from the booth. Shelby’s fingers gripped the drink tray so hard that she feared her bones would crack. She forced herself to take several steps back, putting as much space between her and this witch as possible without looking as if she was running away.
At one point, she’d tried to understand Darlene’s stinging malice toward her. After all, Darlene and Zach had been a steady item for two years before Shelby joined the cheerleading squad her sophomore year in high school. By the following spring Zach had ended things with Darlene right after the junior prom and moved on to Shelby, who’d foolishly thought dating the star quarterback was the answer to her dreams.
But that had been five years ago. High school should be ancient history for everyone by now. Except one of them had a daily reminder—
“Oh, here’s a tip for you.” Darlene paused, her friends already waiting at the door for her. She unzipped her wallet, yanked out a square foil packet and tossed it onto the table. “Use one of these this time, okay? I think everyone will be happier in the long run.”
All the air disappeared from Shelby’s lungs. The strength in her legs went as well, causing her to sway as Darlene brushed past her. She jutted her foot out to keep from losing her balance and Darlene’s platform sandals caught the edge of Shelby’s sneaker. Arm twirling couldn’t save her and seconds later, Darlene face planted on the floor.
Her friends gasped as she scrambled to her feet and spun around, her face contorted in an angry sneer. “You did that on purpose, Jenkins.”
Had she? Shelby wasn’t sure, but there was no way she could convince Darlene of that. Nor would she try. No, what she wanted to do was yell, to get into this evil girl’s face and tell her she couldn’t talk about the most important thing in her life....
She turned away, her gaze drawn back to the table. The slamming of the door told her Darlene and her friends had left, but she didn’t move as everything in her line of sight faded to black except for that single item on the table.
She blinked hard, hoping it would disappear. When it didn’t, she cleaned away everything, the empty glasses, used napkins—the trash—with one sweep of her arm. Dropping the tray on the now-empty table, she leaned forward, bracing her arms to keep herself upright as she struggled to catch her breath, familiar accusations rolling through her mind.
How could you be so stupid?
This is the last thing I need right now.
There goes my life!
The loud laughter behind her stopped Shelby from heading down a road that led only to heartache. She shook her head, pulled in a deep breath and quietly reminded herself that she was the lucky one.
Turning around, she walked across the room. “Okay, boys, it’s closing time. You all need to head out.”
The four cowboys did as she asked, two helping their one friend who was having trouble putting one foot in front of the other. She smiled her thanks as they walked away, and started to clear away their empties, but froze when she felt an arm snake around her waist.
“Hmm, why don’t I stick around so we can have some fun?” Heavy, beer-ladened words slurred in her ear as male fingers tightened on her hip.
Shelby fought against the tears that threatened by blinking hard. Could this night get any worse? She never let her guard down and got this close to customers, especially those who stayed until closing time.
“No, thanks.” She tried to angle her body away from him, but he practically had her pinned against the table. “I still need to clean up.”
“I’ll help ya.” His breath stank of cigarettes and his rough beard scraped against her cheek. “My buddies are already gone—”
“And you should joi
n them.”
Suddenly, she was free from his mangled hold. Shelby hurried away, moving around to the other side of the table in time to watch Dean escort the sputtering cowboy toward the door.
“H-hey! I wasn’t go-going to do nothing!”
“I’m sure the lady is pleased to hear that in case you ever want to come back again.” Dean’s voice carried back across the bar as he strong-armed the man outside. “But it’s time for you to leave anyway.”
This time she couldn’t hold on. She’d reached her limit and when her legs gave way, Shelby sank into the closest chair.
“I need to get out of here.” Dropping her head, she covered her face with her hands, rocking back and forth repeating the words again and again. “I need to get out of here. I need to get out of here.”
“Any special place you want to go?”
She jerked upright. Dean had returned and knelt in front of her. He’d tossed his hat on the table, making it easy for her to see the sincerity in his gaze.
“Just name the spot, darling.” His mouth hitched upward in one corner, making his smile tentative and sweet at the same time. “Name it and I’ll take you there.”
Chapter Three
Incredible blue eyes stared back at Dean. Eyes the color of the crystal clear falls located in the mountains outside of town. They were also wide and unblinking, which worried him as much as the way he’d found her huddled in one of the simple wooden chairs, after he’d come back inside from making sure that the drunken cowboy left with his buddies.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
Her voice was as shaky as the rest of her. He found himself wanting to pull her into his arms, hold her close and tell her everything was going to be all right.
Which was probably a lie.
He had no idea what the heck was going on other than a drunken cowboy manhandling her and a booth of female customers that took childhood bullying to a new level.
“Offering to play chauffeur?” That got him a small smile, so he continued, “I came for a beer, remember?”
The Maverick's Summer Love (Montana Mavericks: Rust Creek Cowboys) Page 3
