by Lisa Emme
Young and with a new family to worry about, Randy had kept his protests to himself, afraid to defy his father and draw his ire. Duncan had never mentioned the fact that Grace was pregnant. Randy doubted the old bastard had even told their mother she was going to be a grandmother again. Marie died a little over a year after Grace ran away, the cancer that had spread from her breast to her liver, finally taking its toll.
When Grace had arrived back in town for the funeral, it had been a real surprise to see her cradling her own tow-headed baby in her arms. Duncan refused to see her and even went so far as to forbid her to attend her own mother’s funeral, and still, Randy kept his mouth shut.
Over the next few years, Randy managed to keep tabs on Grace through Howard’s sister Elaine, but he never made an effort to reach out to her. The fact now left a bitter taste in his mouth. Between the two of them, Grace had always been the one with the backbone, standing up to their father. Unlike Randy, who hated to rock the boat and preferred to just duck his head and defer to their father’s demands.
If only he had reached out to her, stayed in contact with her. If only. His life seemed full of past regrets. Of course, how was he to know that five years later, his much-loved sister would be dead, along with her husband, victims of a hit-and-run drunk driver?
Grieving over the loss of her youngest and last surviving brother, Elaine and her husband Russ, already well past middle age, had opened their home to the orphaned child. Randy, busy with his own family and helping to manage the growing family cattle business, had taken the easy road yet again, and hadn’t offered any assistance to the young orphaned girl. Duncan, as stubborn as ever, continued to refuse to even acknowledge her existence. Young Allie grew up right under his nose, while remaining for all intents and purposes, a stranger.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Randy picked up the phone and punched in some numbers. “Hey Sal, it’s me. Listen, I know I said I’d stay a silent partner when it came to the day-to-day business of running Rowdy’s, but there’s something I’d like to do...”
***
Awhile later, Randy hung up the phone a much happier man. The employee health plan he had just told Sal to implement would go a long way to helping out his niece. They already had the plan in place for all their ranch and cattle company employees. Why not include the bar employees too? Just let his father complain. At least his niece would have one less worry.
“Ahhh, Sal. Do I have to wear the stupid hat?” Allie looked at the little pink Stetson in disgust. Bad enough she had to wear shorts so short it felt like her ass cheeks were hanging out.
“Damn straight you do.” Sal, a six foot six, former football player, looked down at Allie, towering over her. He grabbed the hat and jammed it on her head with an evil grin. “It’s all part of the look.”
“Not to mention that if I have to wear it, so do you.”
“Marla!” Allie beamed at the older woman who had come to stand beside the bar. The woman’s hair, a flamboyant orange, made a striking contrast to the pale pink hat. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Just about every damn night for the last three years, which you would know if you ever bothered to come to town. How are you, Sugar? How’s that young boy of yours?”
“Fine, fine. We’re both fine.” Marla raised a skeptical eyebrow and Allie rushed on, “Well, you know, as fine as we can be.” She shrugged. “If feels kind of weird to be back though. Everything’s changed, but still the same, if that makes any sense.”
“Sure thing, Sugar. I know what you mean.”
Allie grasped Marla’s hand. “Listen, I was sorry to hear about Ted.”
“Ah, thanks. I told that old buzzard that them cigarettes would be the death of him and I guess I was right. Thank God the town banned smoking in public places or I don’t think I could stand to be in here night after night.”
“Alright you two birds, quit your chirping. It’s almost Happy Hour.” Sal pointed to the chalkboard beside the bar where ‘Whiskey Sour’ was written. “Allie, here’s the drink special for tonight.”
“Do you want those ‘Old Fashioned’ or fancied up?”
Sal scowled. “Old Fashioned. I don’t want none of those citified drinks here.”
“Alright already. Just asking.” Allie walked round the bar, acquainting herself with the set up. “Draft on special during happy hour?”
“Yeah, but by the pitcher only.” He turned to leave but then turned back. “Oh, and before I forget, I’ve got some papers in my office that need signing.”
“I thought I signed everything the other day.”
“Not the new medical papers.”
“Medical?” Allie looked up hopefully.
“Oh Sugar, isn’t it grand? We get full medical benefits, just like them boys up at Circle D.” Marla smiled at her.
“Really? Does that include prescriptions?” Allie could hardly believe it. It was like an answer to her prayers.
“I think so. Don’t it Sal?” Marla turned and looked at Sal.
“Yep.” He started counting off on his fingers. “The plan covers prescription costs, semi-private hospital, ambulance fees…” He threw his hands up. “Oh hell, a whole bunch of stuff. I can’t remember it all.”
“That’s fantastic. Do the benefits kick in right away?”
“Yep. Just need your signature.”
Allie felt dazed. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Medical benefits just when she really needed them. Finally, something good had happened for a change.
***
As ‘Happy Hour’ progressed, the bar began to fill. Allie was amazed at the number of people who stopped by the bar for a drink at dinnertime. Towards the end of the magical hour, which was more like ninety minutes, a noisy bunch of dusty cowboys came in laughing and joking with each other.
“Bar keep! Beer and lots of it. Put it on the new guy’s tab.” A chorus of cheers accompanied this pronouncement, as the group filtered through the crowd to a table at the back.
Allie looked up at the ‘new guy’ as he approached the bar. Mike was looking mighty fine tonight. She felt a little flutter in a region south of her waistband as she took in the sight of him. He was wearing worn jeans and a black t-shirt that more than accentuated his well-defined chest. The short sleeves stretched over his biceps. He had that athletic look, without being over-muscled. Mmm, mmm, that man looked fine. She shook her head, berating herself. Allie Daniels, get a grip on yourself. You are practically drooling.
“Hey Mike. I see you found the bar…and some new friends.” Allie tried to sound casual.
“Yep, looks like I did. I was just up at the Circle D checking things out when some of the guys suggested we head into town.” His smile made her heart go pitty-pat as he gave her the once over. “Nice hat,” he added with a cheeky grin.
Allie rolled her eyes and groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
“Come on Dr. Mike. We’re thirsty over here”
Mike looked across the crowded room where one of the guys was waving at him impatiently. “Yeah, yeah, be right there.” He turned back to Allie and slapped a bill on the counter. “Better get me a couple pitchers of draft, please.”
Allie placed a full pitcher of beer on a tray with some mugs and then set another pitcher under the tap. She pushed the tray across the bar to Mike. “Here, take this. Don’t want the yahoos getting restless. I’ll bring the other pitcher out in a sec.”
The second pitcher filled, Allie checked to make sure no one at the bar was waiting to be served, before carrying it out to the thirsty cowboys. Her arrival at the table was accompanied by a few wolf whistles. Blushing, she put on a stern face.
“Now see here, you boys all behave yourselves. Marcus Tilby if you lay a hand on my ass I will tell your wife.” She spun around in time to see Marcus yank back his hand.
“Shee-it! Allie Daniel
s? Well, look at you.” He sized her up. “All grown up.”
“Ha ha. I was all grown up the last time you saw me.” Allie rolled her eyes, hands on her hips.
“Yeah, but that was what? Six or seven years ago?” He moved his hands up and down in a wavy motion. “Now you done filled out, if you know what I mean.” His words were followed by another raucous round of hoots from the boys.
Allie laughed and snapped her bar towel at him. “You old dog. What would your lovely wife say?”
“Ah now, the missus, she don’t care about a bit of harmless flirting. But you watch out for these here young fellers.” He pointed to the men across the table then looked at Mike. “Can’t account for the new guy. But I reckon he’s just as bad.”
At Mike’s feigned injured look, Allie laughed. “I think you got that right.”
***
A half an hour or so later, the boys headed off as ‘happy hour’ wound down. Mike wandered over to the bar and pulled up an empty stool at the end.
“Whew! It’s busy in here,” he said, looking around the still crowded room.
Allie smiled. “Only bar in town.” She pulled another draft then lined up a couple of shots. Next she grabbed an old fashioned glass and scooped in a couple of ice cubes. She splashed in a shot of whiskey, a dash of bitters and some maraschino cherry juice. Topping the glass up with some 7up, she grabbed a slice of lemon and skewered it on a bar pick with a cherry.
“Here you go Marla, one Whiskey Sweet. Same price as the Sour.”
“Thanks Sugar.” She grabbed the drink and put it on her tray along with the beer and shots and hustled off into the crowded room.
Allie glanced down the bar but didn’t see anyone waiting to order so she pulled out her bar rag and started wiping down the counter heading towards Mike’s end of the bar.
“Pretty fancy drink. Where’d you learn to tend bar?”
“Paid my way through graphic arts school working a bar in the city.”
“Oh yeah? Me too.”
“You went to art school too? Does old Doc know you’re pretending to be a veterinarian?”
“Oh hardy-har. You know what I mean. Of course it was more of a way to supplement my meagre student income…and meet girls, of course.” Smiling, he winked at her.
“Oh, of course.” She leaned back against the counter behind the bar, happy to have a breather. “You’re not heading home for dinner?”
“Nah. I thought I’d grab something here. What would you recommend?”
“Eating somewhere else.” She gave him a wry look. “Really. But, I guess if you were to take your chances on the food here, you’d probably be safe with the Spud and Steak special.”
“Sounds good. Make the steak medium rare, please.”
Allie punched in the order then pulled Mike another draft. A customer down the bar waved at her and she moved along to serve him.
The night passed quickly, even though Allie’s feet were killing her. Mike spent the evening perched at the end of the counter, nursing what Allie was sure, was by now a very warm, flat beer. He had been good company, entertaining her with stories of the pampered pooches and exotic pets he had encountered as a city vet. They had also spent a good portion of the evening trying to stump each other with drink recipes.
“Okay,” challenged Allie. “Here’s a tough one. A Mad Hatter.”
“Child’s play,” Mike said, grinning. “Amaretto, Southern Comfort, orange juice and 7-up.”
Allie looked impressed. “Huh, I thought I would get you with that one. Alright, my turn, take your best shot.”
“Hmmm, let me see.” He paused for a moment, an exaggerated look of concentration on his face. “Okay, how about a Screaming Orgasm…” He held up a finger shushing Allie who was about to rattle off the ingredients of the popular shooter and added, “San Francisco style.”
“San Francisco style? You made that up.”
“Nuh-uh. Scouts honour. It was real popular for a while.”
“Well, not where I worked.” Allie scowled. “Okay, I give. What’s San Francisco style?”
“Keep the Bailey’s but instead of Vodka and Kahlua, use Triple Sec and Cognac.”
“Ewww.” Allie screwed up her face. “I think I’ll stick with the original Orgasm.”
“You and me both, Sugar.” Marla cackled as she eyed Mike lasciviously. Allie blushed. She was saved from further comment though by a customer down the bar.
Near the end of her shift, a group of young men came in heading straight to the pool tables at the back of the room. A lean, lanky man with sandy blonde hair and a goatee peeled off from the group and stepped up to the bar. When Allie noticed him, her face lit up and she quickly set the glass she was drying down, and ran out from behind the counter.
“Evan!”
The man caught her up in a big bear hug, lifting her feet right off the ground. Mike decided to take an instant dislike to the man until he heard him reply, “Hey there cuz!”
“Oh, ouch. Careful Ev, you’re practically squeezing out all my stuffing.”
With another squeeze, he laughed and set her back down on her feet. “Back in town for days and you never came to see me.” Evan pouted.
Allie punched him in the arm. “Yeah, well, you know where to find me and I sure wasn’t going out to the Circle D.”
Evan rubbed his arm. “I’m not there anymore. I’ve got an apartment in town. Didn’t I tell you that last time I called?”
“No. You didn’t. I can’t believe his lordship let you move off the ranch.”
Seeing a customer, she led him back towards the counter and circled in behind. After pulling a draft for the man, she turned back to Evan. “Ev, have you met the new vet? Mike Finn, meet Evan MacAllister, my cousin.”
Evan held up his hand giving a little salute. “Hey neighbour.”
“Neighbour?” Mike looked surprised.
“Yeah. Aren’t you the new tenant in 2B?”
“That’s me.” Mike nodded affirmatively.
“I thought I saw you moving your stuff in the other day. Nice Harley.” He leaned into Allie conspiratorially and whispered, “Nice ass too.”
Allie laughed in response. “I’ll say,” she whispered back and then blushed at the thought. She looked over at Mike and then said a little louder, “Don’t think you stand a chance though. I do believe the good doctor here plays for a different team than you.”
Mike looked from one to the other, confused, while Allie continued on, “At least I don’t think he’s gay, judging by how he’s been hitting on me all week.”
“What? Gay? Hell no. Uh, I mean. No, sorry. I’m definitely a ladies man.” Mike paused, a worried look on his face and said hastily, “Uh, I mean…I’m not a player or anything, I just like girls.” He frowned again. “I mean women.” He grimaced. “I’ll shut up now.”
Laughing, Allie smiled at Mike and patted his hand. He was darn cute when he was flustered. “It’s okay, Mike. We get the picture.”
Evan rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “It’s always the same. All the cute men are straight.” He stopped to watch as another man, carrying a pool cue, approached the bar.
“Come on Ev. We’re up next.”
“Well, maybe not all the men.” He winked at Allie. “Later, cuz.”
Allie picked up the glass she had been drying and set it behind the bar then looked at Mike. “You know, it’s not that I haven’t enjoyed your company, but are you planning on warming that stool all night?”
Mike shrugged. “Not like I have anything better to do. Don’t have my TV hooked up yet. Besides, I’m enjoying the company too.” Allie smiled shyly, and dipped her head down to hide her blushing cheeks.
***
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favourite cousin, Allison Daniels.” The words dripped with sarcasm, complete with air quotes on the word cousin. Allie
grimaced at the long and lean man approaching the bar. Mike did a double take looking at the man at the counter then back at Evan who was still shooting pool at the back of the room.
Seeing his confusion, Allie explained, “Mike, meet my cousin Rowdy, Evan’s twin. His evil twin.” She looked at Rowdy. “Rowdy, this is Mike Finn, the new vet.”
Rowdy barely acknowledged Mike as he continued venomously, “I heard that Sal had hired you, but didn’t believe it. What’s the matter, couldn’t make it with your crayons in the big city?” Noticing Mike’s scowl, he added, “Better just keep away from my cousin here. She’s nothing but trouble, especially if you want to work in this town.”
“I’ll take my chances,” said Mike.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Nothing but bad luck this one.”
“Just shut up Rowdy.” Allie scowled at him. “Order a drink or go somewhere else.”
“What’s the matter cuz? Truth hurt? Dead parents, dead boyfriend, mutant kid…”
Allie bristled with anger. “You watch your mouth, Rowdy MacAllister.”
“What? It’s the truth isn’t it? Your kid’s got some weird gene mutation or something? He’s nothing but damaged goods.”
“Now wait just one minute…” Mike jumped to his feet, giving his stool a push.
Allie reached across the bar and grabbed Mike’s arm. “Don’t get involved Mike.”
Rowdy stepped up to Mike, towering over him by several inches. “Yeah Mike. Mind your own business.”
Mike shook off Allie’s grip and took another step closer to Rowdy. Not wanting any trouble, Allie hustled around to the front of the counter and stepped between the two men. She pushed Mike back down on his bar stool, pointing a finger at him. “You, stay there.” She swung her finger around and pointed it at Rowdy. “And you, don’t you ever say that about my boy again, Rowdy MacAllister. He is not damaged. He’s exactly the way God made him. Just like God made you with a dick the size of my pinkie and a brain to match. Now order a Goddamn drink or get the hell away from me.”
