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The Bull Rider’s Return

Page 13

by Joan Kilby


  Not everything was rosy here, though. A homeless man sat on a piece of cardboard outside the bank. He wore an ancient suit jacket and track pants and his lank gray hair hung to his shoulders. A bedraggled paper poppy was pinned to his grubby jacket from some long ago Veterans Day.

  Kelly pulled in to a diagonal parking spot a few stores down and walked back to the Cherry Pit. The help wanted sign was still in the window. She let her breath out and with a big smile, walked inside to the sound of a tinkling bell overhead. She paused on the threshold and surveyed the diner, noting details she hadn’t the first time she’d come here. The restaurant was straight out of the nineteen sixties with red vinyl booths, each with its own small jukebox. There was a black-and-white tiled floor, and a long counter with red stools and an old-fashioned soda fountain. It had a fun vibe.

  The blonde waitress with the ponytail smiled at her as she went past carrying burgers and fries to one of the booths. “Sit anywhere you like. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Kelly waited at the cash desk until the waitress returned. “Actually, I wanted to apply for the job.” She fished in her purse for her résumé, which she’d printed out at Cody’s place. “I’ve got lots of experience.”

  “Oh, I know you. Kelly Reid. You were in here last week looking for Cody.” The waitress’s eyes widened. “I saw all that stuff on Twitter about him giving your son his prize money.”

  “That’s right…” Kelly looked at the woman’s name tag. “Skye. I’m staying in town for a while and I—” Kelly broke off, aware that the manager wouldn’t want to hire someone short term. Fudging the truth slightly, she said, “I’m moving here. I’ll be studying in Missoula and my little boy will be starting first grade at the elementary school.”

  She spoke quickly, laying out the daydream she’d teased Cody with as if it was reality. She hadn’t been here long but she could already tell she would love living in this friendly little town. The lake, the mountains…Cody. If Cody wasn’t in the picture—Her mind shied away from that scenario. One day at a time.

  “So are you and Cody…?” Skye grinned and rocked a hand.

  “We’re friends,” Kelly said firmly. She didn’t want to start the town gossip mill going but word would be out soon enough so she might as well give the official version. “My son and I are staying at his place. He had an accident at the rodeo—”

  “Oh, no. Is he badly hurt?”

  Kelly explained about the shoulder. “He can’t drive or do a lot of stuff so I’m helping out.”

  “Needs someone to tie his shoelaces, does he?” Skye said, still grinning.

  Kelly laughed. “That’s right. So, do you have an application form I can fill in?”

  “No need for that,” Skye said. “Our new manager has his own methods of hiring. Come back at five o’clock for our rush hour. If you cope, you’re in.”

  *

  “I think I’ve got the job,” Kelly announced as she came through the door into Cody’s living room twenty minutes later.

  Ricky was seated in the middle of the floor, playing with toy horses and a plastic barn and corral. A leaf was stuck in his mussed blond hair and bits of tree bark dotted the shoulders of his green T-shirt.

  Cody was in the galley kitchen, making peanut butter and jam sandwiches one-handedly. “That was quick.”

  Kelly moved past him to get a glass of water, breathing the scent of fresh air that clung to his clothes and hair. She felt a pang, a fervent wish that coming home to Cody could be real and lasting.

  “It’s not a done deal,” she admitted. “I go back at five to work the dinner rush. If I do okay, I’m in. But I’m not worried. The Reno diner seated two hundred people. The Cherry Pit can’t be more than fifty or sixty. I can handle that standing on my head.”

  Hearing that, Ricky giggled. “You’d have to walk on your hands and carry plates with your feet.”

  “If I have to, I will.” Kelly walked over to pick the leaf from his hair and brush off his shirt. “What have you guys been up to?”

  “I climbed a cherry tree,” Ricky told her. “But there weren’t any cherries.”

  “We went for a walk around the orchard,” Cody explained.

  Ricky made a palomino gallop and leap over the fence into the corral. “With Taffy.”

  “Taffy, our golden retriever, is Ricky’s new best friend,” Cody explained.

  “Can we get a dog, Mom?” Ricky asked automatically but he was too absorbed in his play to listen for her answer. Or else he’d heard her say no too many times to hold out any hope.

  “Some day,” she promised, vowing that ‘someday’ would be soon. She glanced over at Cody but he was looking at Ricky, a thoughtful expression on his face. She sidled up to him and put an arm around his waist, dipping her fingers into the back pocket of his jeans. Lowering her voice so Ricky couldn’t hear, she said, “Do not get him a puppy.”

  “Who me?” Cody replied so quickly she knew that’s exactly what he’d been thinking. Then he tickled her, making her spin away, laughing before trapping her against the counter.

  Kelly felt his breath gusting on her forehead and the hardness between his hips. She looked over her shoulder but Ricky was busy moving his horse figurines into the barn. She leaned up, kissed Cody briefly on the mouth. “I don’t want him to think anything’s going on between us.”

  “Discreet is my middle name,” Cody said.

  “Yeah, right.” Laughing, she pushed on his chest and made him step back so she could put distance between them. “You and Ricky should come to the Cherry Pit for dinner and give me moral support.”

  “Call it the Pit,” Cody said. “That’s what the locals say.”

  “The Pit.” Would she become a local? Despite knowing better than to believe any guy—especially a bad boy like Cody—would stick around for the long haul, a very big part of her hoped she would.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kelly scanned the diner to see if any customers needed attending to. The past hour she’d been busy taking and delivering meal orders but now there was a brief lull. Skye worked the right-hand side of the diner while Kelly had the counter and the left-hand side with the majority of the booths.

  Mr. Parker, the owner and manager, had introduced himself by his last name only. He made fresh coffee and took over the cash register when she and Skye were too busy to attend to it. He was youngish, not more than forty years old, rounded and soft right up to his hazel eyes and fine brown hair. But behind his horn-rimmed glasses his gaze was alert, taking in every detail of the diner’s operation. While he seemed okay, Kelly was cynical about bosses. When it came to the crunch, business won out over people. It always did.

  Everything had gone well so far, though. She’d kept up with her orders, kept her section cleared away. Now it was nearly seven o’clock and the stream of hungry diners through the door had slowed to a trickle.

  Linda had dropped off Cody and Ricky on her way to her book club meeting and they’d eaten up at the counter. As Kelly took away their empty plates, Cody winked at her and she felt her cheeks warm but didn’t respond. The manager was watching everything she did. “Dessert?”

  “Two hot fudge sundaes,” Cody said. “Right, Ricky?”

  The boy nodded enthusiastically.

  “You’ll spoil him,” Kelly warned but she smiled to see the delighted grin on Ricky’s face. Then she noticed what Cody was wearing over his blue chambray shirt. “Is that the vest I made you?”

  “My lucky vest,” he said. “Thought it might bring you luck, too.”

  She was touched. He would have had to get his mother or Garret to help him put it on over his strapping and she’d already found out how much he hated having to ask for help. “I’m sure it will.”

  The bell tinkled and an older man shuffled in. It was the homeless fellow she’d seen sitting on the sidewalk. He was making his way to the counter when he saw her and stopped, a fearful flicker in his rheumy eyes.

  Kelly felt her heart sink just a little.
Her first day and the manager was right there, watching her every move. She didn’t know what Mr. Parker’s policy was but there was no way she was turning this poor man out into the chilly evening.

  “Come sit over here,” she said, indicating the free stool next to Cody with an encouraging smile. “What can I get you?”

  “Coffee,” he rasped and held the counter with shaking hands as he climbed onto the stood.

  She poured him a cup and handed him the cream and sugar. “Meat loaf is our special of the day.” In Reno she’d been trained to upsell on the smallest order. She hated to do that when someone was clearly down on their luck but she could feel Mr. Parker’s eyes on her. She really wanted this job. As well as solving her immediate problem of cash flow it would give her a foothold into the community, something of her own to build on that wasn’t dependent on Cody. “Piece of pie? It’s fresh today.”

  Hunger flared in the old man’s watery eyes. Once upon a time they’d been blue. Then he shook his head and looked down as if he didn’t trust himself not to ask for some. Kelly watched him shake in three packets of sugar and fill the cup to the brim with cream. His hands were unsteady as he raised the mug to his lips. She glanced over at Cody and saw he’d noticed and was frowning. His spoon had gone limp in his sundae, as if he’d lost his appetite.

  Kelly had known hungry times herself. She had never been down as low as this man but she couldn’t bear this another second. Turning to the pass into the kitchen, she called to the cook, “Meat loaf, extra mash and gravy.”

  The manager had stopped in the act of pouring fresh coffee into the machine. Not looking at him, she stalked up the cash register and rung up the order then took a handful of tips from her pocket and counted out the cost of the meal, adding extra for a piece of pie and the coffee. She placed the bills in the correct slots and ripped off the receipt.

  Then she collected the plate of meat loaf from the pass and placed it and the receipt in front of the homeless man. “This is on me.”

  He gazed at her, glanced at the manager standing impassively in the corner, and back to Kelly. His grizzled jaw split briefly into a smile that was missing at least two teeth. “Thank you,” he mumbled and picked up a fork.

  Finally Kelly looked at Mr. Parker, her chin set defiantly but a worried crease between her eyebrows. Her heart was thudding and she pressed her damp palms to her apron. His face was so round and smooth—so well fed—that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Probably wondering how soon he could tell her to hang up her apron and get the hell off his premises. But more than likely he would want her to work till seven thirty and finish the shift so Skye wasn’t left on her own. With a sigh, Kelly set off across the diner to gather plates and take dessert orders. She didn’t look at Cody. She couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in his eyes.

  She forced herself to be just as cheerful to the customers as before even though her heart was sinking the whole while. But she didn’t regret giving the old guy a hot meal even if it cost her a job. When he finished he laid his paper napkin neatly on his clean-as-a-whistle plate and thanked her again before shuffling out into the night.

  After he left, Cody and Ricky got up too. She met Cody at the cash register. “Guess I blew it, huh?”

  “It was a nice thing you did. I was going to offer to buy him a meal but you beat me to it.” Cody glanced over at the manager. “The new owner is the son of the old owner. He only started managing the diner six months ago. I don’t know what he’s like. I could call Skye later and ask her what she thinks. She and I went to school together.”

  “No, don’t bother. What will be, will be.” She ruffled Ricky’s hair and handed Cody his truck keys so they could wait there for her to finish. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  She cleared all her tables and tidied up the counter, restocking the sugar and condiments. Skye was doing the same on her side though her shift wouldn’t end until closing at ten p.m. The manager was at the cash register chatting to customers as they paid their bill. Finally she couldn’t delay any longer. Taking off her apron, she threw it into the laundry basket at the back of the kitchen and retrieved her purse from the locker in the tiny staff room.

  “Good night, Mr. Parker,” she said. “I appreciate you giving me a tryout.” She turned to go.

  “What hours are you available next week?” he asked, without looking up from a stack of receipts he was checking.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’ve got the job if you want it.”

  “Really?” Her spirits lifted and she retraced her steps. “You didn’t mind that I served that homeless guy? I paid for his meal; I don’t know if you saw that.”

  “I saw it.” His face softened and she almost thought she saw his eyes moisten. “That man is my great-uncle. He has mental health issues. He also has a loving family who try to help him but he has his pride, or he’s ornery, or…well, I don’t know why he won’t accept our help. He comes in every night for coffee. Every night I try to give him dinner and he always says he’s not hungry.”

  “He was hungry,” Kelly said. “He practically inhaled the meat loaf.”

  “I know. This was the first time he’s eaten. So thank you for that. Just so you know, if he comes in and will eat, it’s on the house.” Parker handed her a few bills. “Here are your wages for tonight as well as the price of my uncle’s dinner.” For the first time that evening, he smiled at her. “Thank you for being so kind. There’s not enough of that these days.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Parker—” she began.

  “Parker’s my first name. Parker Hammond.” He held out a damp pudgy hand. “Welcome to the Cherry Pit.”

  Smiling, she pumped his hand. “I have a feeling I’m going to like it here, Parker.”

  Cody was leaning against the truck when she came out, his legs crossed at his ankles, his sheepskin jacket buttoned to the neck and the collar turned up against the cool night air. Ricky was in the back, playing a hand-held video game.

  Kelly couldn’t quell the skip in her step or wipe the big cheesy grin off her face. “I got the job!”

  With a whoop, Cody picked her up with his good arm and spun her around. “Congratulations. So the manager didn’t give you a hard time for feeding that homeless man?”

  Ricky spoke up from the back seat. “She did that all the time at the diner in Reno. Old poopy face got mad if he found out.”

  “Don’t say poopy face,” Kelly admonished. To Cody she said, “The Pit is so different from where I worked in Reno. I think I’m going to love it here.”

  “Helps that your new boss has a heart.”

  “A big one.” She hugged Cody and then climbed in behind the wheel, watching as he swung awkwardly into the passenger seat, his right arm strapped tightly and immobilized against his chest. He had a toothpick from the diner between his back teeth and it worked as hard as he did. She loved that he’d worn her vest to bring her luck. And that he would have fed a poor, crazy old man he didn’t know, just as he’d helped her, another stranger. She was watching him after he’d buckled himself in. Then he glanced her way as if to see why she wasn’t starting the truck. “You’re a good man, Cody Starr.”

  His eyebrows rose in a baffled expression. “Why did you say that?”

  “Because you are.” She turned the key in the ignition and headed for home.

  *

  For Cody the next eight days crawled past. During that time, Garret drove him, Kelly and Ricky to Marietta so they could pick up Kelly’s car. Aside from that small diversion, he quickly got bored. There wasn’t a lot a man could do when his good arm was out of commission. Chores like chopping wood and raking leaves with his left hand took hours to complete and even rawhiding was out of the question. The sling was so confining there were times he just wanted to roar and break free like the Hulk cracking out of his human form.

  Only the other day he’d got up to go outside for more fuel for the wood-burning heater and cursed under his breath when he realized his boots were
in the truck and the only shoes he had next to the door were his running shoes. He pushed his sock feet awkwardly into first one and then the other shoe, then sat on a low stool and pulled them on with his left hand. He stared at the laces spilling over the tiles like snakes. Well, he would just have to go out without tying them.

  “Want me to do them?” Ricky said, eager to show off his new skills. “I can tie a bow now.”

  “Sure, thanks.” The kid was sweet but having him kneel at his feet and laboriously make the loops and wind the other lace around and through was another reminder that he was more helpless than a child.

  “There,” Ricky pronounced, pleased as punch with himself.

  “Great job.” The bows were sloppy and lopsided but they were better than Cody could manage. “Come and help me carry the wood.”

  Finally the day came when he could see Dr. Simmons, the family GP he’d been going to since childhood.

  Kelly dropped him off outside the clinic midmorning. “Do you want us to come in with you?”

  “No, thanks,” Cody said. “Garret’s picking me up afterward. We’ll have lunch and then he’ll drive me out to the ranch. I need to check in with my boss, Ben, and give him an update.”

  “Do you think you’ll take that foreman job now?” she asked. “It might be easier than training bulls.”

  “Foremen work right alongside the hands but yeah, I could probably get away with light duties for a few weeks,” Cody said. “The extra pay would come in handy.”

  “A few weeks?” Kelly’s mouth twisted. “Cody, I’ve been googling a shoulder dislocation. You might be out of action longer than you think.”

  “I’m hoping I get the all clear.” He wasn’t some couch potato. He was an athlete, in top physical shape. Surely he would heal quicker than the average man.

  Dr. Andrew Simmons was in his sixties, a marathon runner with a lean physique and cropped gray hair. If anyone would be inclined to give Cody a free pass to get back to his normal life, it would be him.

 

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