by Anna Furtado
“—and a mug of my hand-crafted root beer,” Jackie smirked as she pushed the large, frosty tankard of the dark, foamy liquid in front of Tucker.
Actually, Jackie didn’t brew the root beer herself, but it was local. She was instrumental in getting the Bartlett brothers set up to go large-scale, which allowed her to take some credit for it. Tucker took a healthy swig and gave a satisfying groan. Jackie’s smile widened.
Jackie stood watching Tucker. “Anything exciting going on, Tuck?”
“No. Nothing I’m aware of. I just finished doing my prep for this afternoon’s meeting. I hope we don’t meet with too much resistance to the proposed opening of the mine. Doing mine tours will be good for the town.”
“True, but with the old rumors and fears about something bad associated with the mine, a lot of unease has stirred people up with a vengeance. You can’t believe it’s going to be easy.”
“Probably not. That’s why I’ve been working so hard on my proposal. I’ve got some statistics from other towns where they do this kind of thing, and the rise in income when they started doing mine tours is impressive. Hopefully, it will help facilitate the process.”
Again, Jackie stared.
When Tucker said, “What?” Jackie gave her a weak smile. “Jackie, if you’ve got something on your mind, just say it.”
More silence as Tucker watched Jackie chew on her lower lip. “I talked to Leah.”
“Oh, yeah. I hope she’s feeling better about the house. I tried to reassure her.”
“She’s fine about the house. Happy, actually. It’s you she’s having a reaction to.”
“Me?” Tucker didn’t mean for the sound to come out so shrill. She coughed, hoping to restore her normal timbre and took a deep breath. Her voice sounded normal again when she said, “What do you mean ’me’?”
“She likes you.”
When Tucker gave her a quizzical look, Jackie wiggled her eyebrows.
Tucker harrumphed. “Surprising, since I did something stupid and admitted to her I thought she was an aging librarian.”
Jackie laughed out loud. A few patrons turned in their direction, but quickly returned to their own conversations. “She told me about your little faux pas. Quite the Don Juan, aren’t you? Way to charm a girl, Stevens.”
“I was at her house as her landlord. I didn’t go there to ask her out.”
“And yet you’re having dinner with her later.” Jackie raised her copper colored eyebrows until they reached the edge of her untidy bangs.
“Dinner is only to make it up to her—about my little misstep. It was her idea.” Who was she kidding? Jackie would never fall for her excuses. Jackie always saw right through her.
“Mm hmm.”
Tucker leaned across the bar closer to Jackie and spoke in a whisper. “Look, Jackie, I’m not sure what’s going on—you know—in my head right now.” She pointed to her temple. “So the last thing I want is to get involved with someone when I’m not even sure I’m—” she hesitated, “—you know, mentally stable.”
Jackie slapped the surface of the bar with her open hand. “Oh, pooh. You’re fine, Tucker. You have to stop dwelling on the past.” In a whisper, she added between clenched teeth, “You are not your mother.”
Tucker stared down into her root beer. When she looked up at Jackie, she smiled knowingly. “You like her, don’t you? Admit it. You like Leah. You have a girl crush on her and you’re not even gay.”
“Yes, I like her. She’s a great person—and you, Tucker Stevens, like her, too. It’s written all over your face. You may as well accept it and surrender. Stop looking for excuses.”
Jackie was fierce when she knew she was right. Why not? What did she have to lose by admitting she was attracted to Leah? Jackie already knew it anyway.
Tucker blushed when she said, “She’s—beautiful.” She continued with a growl. “And if you breathe a word to Leah, or to anybody, for that matter, Jackie O’Malley, I will strangle you.”
A shiver ran down her spine when she said it. It was a figure of speech. She meant nothing by it. “I—I didn’t mean—you know what I mean.”
Jackie tapped the back of Tucker’s hand, resting on the surface of the bar. “Stop being such a worrywart, Tucker.”
“Just keep it to yourself, okay?”
Jackie put her hand over Tucker’s. “Tuck. It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.”
As Tucker finished the last of her root beer, Jackie glided over toward a group of tourists who wanted to pay their bill. Tucker watched as she handed them their change and sent them on their way to explore the town. The Charlie was empty now, except for the two women who came in while Tucker and Jackie talked. They looked like they would stay a while. Jackie came around from the back of the bar to serve them their drink order then sat on the stool next to Tucker.
Tucker pushed her mug around in the little pool of water forming from the frost on the glass. She looked at Jackie and said, “Tell me about Leah.”
“Well, as you know, she’s been here for about three years. She’s the old lady librarian at the high school in Portero.”
Tucker took in a breath to protest Jackie’s chiding, but Jackie held up her hand to stop her, telling Tucker she meant nothing by her remark and continued. “Apparently, she used to visit here as a child. That’s how she knew about Elder Creek. She told me she remembered fond summer vacations here. When she discovered an opening at the school in Portero, she applied and got the job. Folks tell me she’s good with the kids, good at her job. I don’t know much else. She comes in occasionally and we chat. I’d call her a friend, but we’re not what you’d call close. Maybe we’ll both get to know her better now.”
Tucker looked at Jackie, an expression of alarm on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jackie laughed. “Oh Tucker, don’t look so scared. I only meant now that we’ll all be seeing more of each other while we work on the revitalization project together, we’ll both get to know a little more about Leah.”
Tucker jumped at the chance to change the subject. “Speaking of the project, will you be able to come to the meeting?” Tucker pulled out her phone to check the time and added, “I’m going to have to get over to the meeting hall in a few minutes.”
“I’ll be there. Tracey’s on duty in about fifteen minutes.”
As if on cue, Tracey walked into the bar from the back and waved. Jackie waved back.
“See. All set.”
“Good.” Tucker put her phone back in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I saw the mayor before I came over here. He gave me a list of people who might be opposed to the mine opening. He didn’t want me to get blindsided at the meeting.” She handed over the list. There were only three names on it. “What do you think?”
“Well, I’m thinking Doris and Phil Ackerman aren’t going to be that much of a problem. They’ll bitch and moan a lot, but it’s what they do. It’s not like they’ll stand in our way. I’ll talk to them to get a feel for what they’re thinking, but I suspect it will be the same as always—once a curmudgeon, always one.”
Tucker chuckled.
“And Leah? Is she on our side? About the mine?”
“Leah’s fine about it, I think. Don’t forget, she doesn’t have the history the town’s old-timers have.”
“By the way,” Tucker said, “is she a sister?”
Jackie looked confused. “I don’t think so. She goes to the Methodist church now and again, I believe.”
“Not a nun, you doofus, a sister. You know. Is she gay?”
“Oh.” Jackie looked surprised. “I don’t know. We’ve never talked about it. I’ve never seen her with anybody. But, you know, since I’m not gay, I don’t have that radar thing.”
Tucker laughed and shook her head. “It’s called gaydar.”
“Yeah, that.”
Tucker took the paper back from Jackie and thumped it with her free hand. “Well, what about Joe Dawson? Why’s he so opposed to Elder
Creek pulling itself up by the bootstraps? Is he a curmudgeon, too?”
“I wouldn’t call him that. I’m not sure about him. He never voiced having a problem until a few weeks ago, and then he started to get very vocal about it. Do you want me to talk to him, too?”
“No, why don’t we see if they show at the meeting. Then we’ll take it from there. I might take you up on feeling these three out later, though. Right now, I’d best get over to city hall.”
“I’m right behind you. Let me check in with Tracey and I’ll meet you over there.”
As Tucker walked out The Charlie’s front door, Dunbar’s face flashed through her mind. He wore a threatening sneer, causing her to shiver. She shook the vision off. She couldn’t give in to wild phantoms with all the work she needed to get done.
THE NOISE IN The Charlie surged to a crescendo as Tucker sat opposite Leah perusing her menu. Apparently, Jackie instructed Tracey to reserve them a table tucked back in a corner of the saloon.
Tucker spent the past few minutes sneaking glances at Leah over her menu. Leah read with intensity as she studied her choices as if the food options were part of an important historical document. Her concentration delighted Tucker.
Leah lifted her eyes from her menu to meet Tucker’s, and she raised her voice enough to be heard above the din. “Something wrong, Tucker?”
A smile slowly materialized across Tucker’s lips. “Not a thing.”
“Why were you staring?”
“I wasn’t staring.”
“Then, what were you doing?”
“Appreciating.”
Inwardly, Tucker groaned. No, no, no! her brain screamed. No flirting! This is a business relationship. She’s your tenant. She’s on the city revitalization committee—and quite frankly, you don’t know if you’re losing your mind or not. So. No. Flirting.
Leah gave her a long, sultry look, then glanced back down at her menu. One corner of her mouth curved upward as she said, “I see.” She scanned the page again.
Sweat beads formed on Tucker’s forehead as she fought for something else to say—preferably something that didn’t sound like she was trying to charm Leah out of her sexual favors.
While keeping her eyes on her own menu, Tucker tried to sound nonchalant as she spoke. The first word got stuck. She tried again. “So, how did you think the meeting went today?”
“Pretty well. Too bad there are some dissenters, but I guess it’s bound to happen. It shouldn’t be too difficult to bring them over to our side and convince them of the benefits of opening the mine, though.”
“The Ackermans may be easy, but I’m not so sure about Joe Dawson. He may be a hard nut to crack.”
“Surely he’ll want Elder Creek to succeed at this project. Everybody will gain from it. He will, too.”
“How do you figure the town junk man will benefit?”
Leah pursed her lips as she thought. “Recycling?”
Tucker cocked her head to one side.
Leah continued, “You know, he should have lots of plastic to cash in if he picks up all the water and soda bottles people leave behind. There will be aluminum cans, too. He’d make a killing.”
“You don’t think we should put in recycle bins so the city can get the benefit from them?” Tucker pulled out a small notepad from her shirt pocket to write a note about city recycling.
“Maybe the city can award him the contract to do the recycling. That way, the city gets the money, and he can profit from it, too. We need to start doing better in the recycling department anyway. It’s an opportunity to have the townspeople start separating out cans and bottles, also. We’re way overdue for it. Maybe the city should hire Joe as the recycler for the whole town.”
“Hmmm. I’m not sure Joe would go for that. He’s kind of a loner—likes working on his own, doing his own thing. I think schedules, routes, and reporting to someone at city hall isn’t exactly something he’d like. But I’ll talk to the mayor about it and see what he thinks. Maybe a bit of the revitalization budget might be apportioned for recycling downtown and start small. It’d be an important part of keeping everything clean and can raise the consciousness of the citizens and get them ready to go city-wide with the effort later.” Tucker made another note.
“I’m surprised you don’t do that in your phone.”
Tucker looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Your notes. If you did it in your phone, you’d be able to ditch the notepad and pencil.”
Tucker’s cheeks tinged pink as she realized Leah must think her a country bumpkin.
“Well. Um. I’ve always carried a notepad, ever since I was a kid. I’d jot down thoughts, questions and story ideas, random stuff like that.”
“Oh, yes, Jackie told me you’re a writer.” Leah paused before asking, “What do you write?”
And there it was—The Question. In some circles, the answer came easily. Among others, it was tricky.
“Um. The four books I have published are about women in the Old West.”
Leah rested her elbows on the table, joined her hands, and placed her chin on them. “Really? Tell me about them.”
And there’s the second part.
As if on cue, Jackie materialized at their table, saving Tucker from answering.
“Hi, folks. Sorry it took so long to get to you. We’re kind of busy tonight. What can I get you?”
Jackie’s rusty colored hair fell in front of her eyes in wisps. She looked a little frazzled.
“What are you doing here? I thought you took the night off,” Tucker said.
“I did. Tracey called me in. Look at this place.” She whirled her pencil in a circle, indicating the room as if with a magic wand able to bring the chaotic commotion around her under her control. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but there’s no way Tracey could handle this all by herself.”
Tucker looked around. Almost every seat was taken—an odd occurrence for the dying town on any evening, even on a weekend night.
“Perhaps the message is getting out about your delicious food, and don’t forget your great root beer.” Tucker glanced back down at her open menu and didn’t give Jackie a chance to respond to her sarcasm. “I’ll have the Cowboy Burger with everything, French Fries, and a Blue Moon.” Tucker closed her menu and handed it to Jackie with a grin.
Jackie smiled at Leah and said, “Leah, what can I get for you?”
“I think I’ll have the Chicken Caesar, with extra Parmesan, please. And I’ll have a Blue Moon, also.”
As Jackie took Leah’s menu, she glanced over at Tucker and smirked. Tucker gave her a stern look, willing her not to say anything sophomoric about her and Leah having dinner together. Jackie winked at Tucker and walked away, causing Tucker to blow out a sigh of relief.
Tucker looked over at Leah and said, “I pegged you as a white wine kind of woman.”
Leah laughed. Tucker thought she’d give her anything she asked for when she heard her laugh like that.
“There’s a great deal you probably have me pegged for, which may or may not be true, Tucker Stevens. However, there’s only one way to find out what those things may or may not be.”
“What way is that, Miss Hudson?”
“You’ll just have to spend more time with me.”
This time, Tucker knew her cheeks didn’t merely color pink. Her whole face burned. She knew she was bright red. She couldn’t even blame it on the beer since they didn’t have their drinks yet. She found an excuse to prod the conversation in a more professional direction readily enough. “Well, we will be working on the revitalization committee together,” Tucker mumbled.
She’d done it. She’d managed to make Leah laugh again, and it sounded wonderful. She sat with Leah, a smile on her own face, until Jackie returned with their meals and frothy glasses of beer on a large, round tray.
She plunked everything down in front of them and said, “I hope you don’t think I’m being rude, but we’re so busy tonight, I don’t have time to chat.”
“Not a problem,” Leah responded. “We’ve got lots to talk about. We’re getting acquainted.” She batted her eyes at Tucker.
Jackie looked from Leah to Tucker. Tucker’s face reddened again. Jackie raised an eyebrow at her before excusing herself to attend to another table where a small group hailed her from a recently vacated table.
“So,” Leah said, “you were telling me about your writing.”
Damn, the reprieve is over.
“Well, the one I’m working on now is about a woman who worked as a teacher in Durango after the civil war.” Tucker hoped her vague information would be enough to appease Leah, however, her theory proved wrong.
“Go on.” Leah stabbed some of her salad and took the contents of her fork into her mouth. After she swallowed, she said, “Is she an older woman? A librarian, perhaps? Maybe in her dotage?”
“Um. No. She’s actually in her twenties.” Tucker decided to ignore the obvious tease. “The teacher meets a Pinkerton detective who’s after a fugitive from back East. The teacher has information about the whereabouts of the guy, but isn’t sure she trusts the Pinkerton agent, so there’s tension there.” She didn’t want to mention the detective was also a woman, and the tension was something other than a personality conflict.
“So how did you get interested in writing Westerns?”
“I think living in this town growing up probably gave me my initial interest. My field of study in college was cultural anthropology. Put that all together and you’ve got the books I write with an emphasis on the West in the 1800s.”
“So tell me more about this book you’re writing,” Leah said.
Tucker hoped her next remark would put a stop to this topic of conversation. “Well, I don’t want to tell you everything in case you want to read it someday.”
“I probably will. I have read your others already.”
“You have?”
“Yes, you know, read them.”
“How could you do that?”
