Breakfast at the Honey Creek Café

by Jodi Thomas

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then you’ll start training tonight. Come in a couple hours early to read the manual. We only got one and we don’t pay for you reading. After a few weeks I’ll have someone watching you to see if you’re fast enough to do the job.”

  “You sure about no uniform?”

  LeRoy mumbled a few cuss words like he was chewing them up before he spit them out. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and tossed Pecos a handful of blue shirts with a sheriff’s badge covering about heart level. “Wear these. All we got is mediums and all the deputies are too fat to wear anything but extra extra large.” He looked Pecos up and down. “I’m hoping you wear out those shirts before you move into double Xs.”

  Pecos smoothed out the material bearing the embroidered badge. “I’ll take good care of them and give them back if I leave.”

  LeRoy scratched his bushy sideburns. “You do that, boy.”

  Pecos wanted to run out and tell Kerrie, but he went around and applied for three more jobs first. None gave him much time or hope. Every kid in town wanted a summer job and most had relatives who were pressured into hiring them.

  It was almost nine when he made it to Kerrie’s house. He’d hoped she’d be on the porch waiting. He’d promised her last night that if he got a job, they’d celebrate with breakfast or lunch at the Honey Creek Café. After all, it was the best place in town.

  Her father, Brad Lane, had answered the door without smiling and told Pecos to sit down. “She and her mother are talking, so who knows how long Kerrie will be.”

  Barbara, Kerrie’s mom, yelled for Brad to come upstairs. Brad rolled his eyes. “This doesn’t sound promising. The delay might be longer than I thought.”

  “I’ll wait.” Pecos had no place to go.

  Ten minutes later he was still sitting in the empty room. The whole house reminded him of a showroom in some big furniture store. Everything matched and fit perfectly together. Creepy, he thought. None of the tables had anything useful on them.

  There was shouting from upstairs. Pecos couldn’t make out the words. So much for thinking Kerrie had the perfect family.

  This couldn’t have anything to do with him, could it? He knew he was just the “almost boyfriend” until someone better came along. He wasn’t important enough to warrant all that shouting.

  Another ten minutes passed. Now he heard crying. The need to go up and comfort Kerrie was strong, but he didn’t move. This was none of his business. He felt like he was trespassing just sitting on the couch.

  Finally, Kerrie came down the stairs in a full run.

  He stood and caught her as she slammed into him as if he were her only safe place in the world. He held her tight, unable to think of anything to say. His clean shirt Mr. Winston had insisted on ironing this morning was getting wet with her tears and Pecos felt helpless. All he could do was hold her.

  Her heart finally stopped pounding against his and her breathing slowed. “They . . . hate . . . me. I thought they’d love me no matter what, but my parents hate me.”

  He rocked her from side to side. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I can pretty much swear to you that your parents don’t hate you.” He kissed the top of her head. Maybe he should tell her about his parents. Then she’d know what having parents who hate you is really like. Only Pecos had to admit to himself that Mom and Dad didn’t hate him either. More accurately they simply forgot about him.

  Pecos looked up and saw Kerrie’s parents frozen halfway down the staircase. Both looked furious.

  “I’ll kill him,” Brad said through gritted teeth. “I swear, I’ll kill him. I can’t believe he just walked into our house as cool as you please.”

  Pecos wanted to point out that Brad had been the one to open the door, and invite him in, but the man didn’t look like he was interested in logic. He looked more like Mel Gibson in Braveheart with a club in his hand as he waited to run into battle.

  Pecos stepped in front of Kerrie. For a few seconds he wondered who the man was talking about. No “him” was in the room, just Kerrie and her mom.

  Then her father stormed close, his stare never leaving Pecos’s face, and Pecos realized he was the HIM.

  Instinct took over. Pecos widened his stance in front of Kerrie. As he turned to face her obviously crazy father, the nutcase swung and caught Pecos in the nose. The fist continued into his eye. Pecos was so shocked he hadn’t even tried to block the hit.

  He raised his arms when the second fist flew toward him, but he couldn’t fight back. This was Kerrie’s father.

  Brad shifted his weight and prepared to attack again. Pecos wanted to run, but he was all that stood between Kerrie and her father. He’d taken a lot of blows in his life. He could take more, but he wasn’t sure he could take her getting hurt.

  Just as Brad swung, Pecos bent low and rammed her father in the stomach. Both men fell, shattering the glass coffee table and cutting themselves in several spots as they landed.

  Pecos rolled on top of Brad just as Kerrie’s mother screamed for them to stop. Her scream was so loud it seemed to shake the house. “NO. NO. NO. This is not happening! Stop!”

  Right now both of the parents seemed to be cracking up. He almost wished for his own house, where his parents simply ignored each other and cold silence reigned. Pecos might not be able to do anything about the screamer, but he was strong enough to hold the father pinned.

  To his surprise, Brad’s muscles began to still. Barbara’s screams had broken the madness somehow.

  Barbara knelt beside her husband and tried with a Kleenex to wipe off blood throbbing out of her husband’s arm. “This can’t be happening. It just can’t. This is not us, Brad. I can’t stand this. I can’t.”

  Brad looked at Pecos. The fire was gone from his eyes now. “Get off me. I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t. It’s tearing my wife apart. The desire to kill you wouldn’t be worth shattering her. She’s already dealing with enough right now.”

  Pecos slowly moved away but stayed at the ready. “I don’t know what this is all about, Mr. Lane, but I suggest we worry about that cut on your arm, then figure out why you want me dead later.”

  They moved to the kitchen. Somehow the insane father had settled back down. Both his daughter and his wife were fussing over him while Pecos sat at the other end of the bar dripping blood.

  After a few minutes of trying to stop the blood, Barbara said, “I’m taking him to the hospital. Do you need to see a doctor, Pecos? Your eye’s almost swollen shut.”

  “No, I’ve been hit much harder by my old man.”

  Kerrie brought the medicine kit over to him. “I’ll patch him up.”

  Barbara helped Brad to his feet. “Call me if he faints or starts throwing up. I’ll be right back to get him if you call. Dad’s going to need stitches.”

  Pecos felt like he was on a bizarre merry-go-round. Nice dad, killer dad, nice dad, killer dad. Good mom, screaming mom, then back to good mom.

  Kerrie talked to him softly as she cleaned each scrape, doctored it, and bandaged it. When she was finished, his nose was still bleeding a bit, but the cuts on his palm and on his elbow would heal fine. She put a cute little ice pack that looked like a penguin on his eye and told him to lie down on the couch.

  As he closed his good eye, he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had come in, sat down, and heard voices. Kerrie had run to him, and then her dad had tried to kill him. Man, he hoped this wasn’t an average Monday morning at the Lane house.

  As his heart slowed and his body relaxed, he drifted to sleep vaguely aware that she was cleaning up the glass. Kerrie was safe. She hadn’t been hurt and that was all that really mattered.

  Sometime later the front door opened and Brad and Barbara were back. Kerrie’s dad’s arm was wrapped in a sling and he had more bandages in other places than Pecos did. Barbara was crying now as she bossed her husband around.

  Brad walked past the couch and dropped into the armchair facing Pecos. “I’m sorr
y,” he said without much meaning in the words. “I was so angry for what you two did. My wife said that it’s both your faults, but I don’t see it that way.”

  Pecos felt like a fog had settled in his brain and with only one eye the whole room didn’t look right. Somehow her parents must have figured out they went swimming yesterday after graduation. He would expect them to get mad, but they were carrying it way too far.

  “Dad, Pecos had nothing to do with my problem.”

  Pecos raised up on his elbows. “Yes, I did. I was all in when she suggested it.”

  All three of the Lanes stared at him and Pecos saw a bit of the fire crawling back into Brad’s eyes. He didn’t know if he should run, fight, or play dead.

  “Once I had my clothes off there was no going back. I jumped.”

  Yep, the fire was back, Pecos decided. At least they had the coffee table out of the way.

  “Stop, Pecos,” Kerrie cried. “You’re making it worse. You don’t know what we are talking about. I told my parents I’m pregnant and they assumed it was you.”

  Brad leaned forward like a lion posed to pounce. “Kerrie, are you saying he’s not the father? Then who is? Damn it, tell me. I don’t want to kill the wrong sperm donor.”

  “No one is.” Kerrie cried as if no one was listening to her. “This is my baby. Just mine.”

  Barbara was so calm now they could have been having tea. “No, honey, you know that’s not true. But you have to tell us. Were you raped or drunk? Oh dear, were you drugged? We need to know what happened.”

  “No, I wasn’t drunk or drugged. I wasn’t raped.”

  “Then tell us. Stop trying to protect Pecos or whoever it was.”

  Brad sneered at Pecos. Since he still felt bad about the swimming, he probably looked guilty. But Kerrie was taking all the blame. She wasn’t trying to involve him. That might have been the easy way out. He was no one. A “weekend boyfriend” still hanging around on Monday.

  “You’re going to tell us, Kerrie, or I swear I’ll beat up every boy in this town.”

  She shook her head and began to cry.

  Pecos put his hand over hers. Now he understood. He’d been an idiot for not noticing the signs. He’d had sex education in school. Crying all the time, bigger boobs, rounded stomach. She had all the signs he could remember.

  “Who is the father of the child you are carrying?” her father demanded.

  Kerrie lifted her chin but didn’t answer.

  The house was so silent, Pecos’s voice echoed, “I am, sir. I came here this morning to make it right. I know girls don’t get married these days, but I want to be a father to this baby and I think we need to marry to do that.”

  The whole Lane family seemed incapable of speech.

  Pecos tried again. “I love Kerrie and I’ll love the baby.”

  Still no reaction. The Lanes looked like they had turned to porcelain. If they didn’t move soon, he’d have to set them on the shelf.

  In his mind, Pecos saw his dreams tumbling down. But he had to do this. Deep down he knew he was nothing but a dumb farm boy who barely got out of high school. And Kerrie was a shining star.

  He’d give up his goals and do all he could to allow her dreams to come true. He’d stand beside her for as long as she needed him, and then he’d walk away so she could get on with her life.

  Brad came out of his shock first. “I still want to kill you.”

  “Fair enough. It was my fault, but I’ll do my best to make it right.”

  “No,” Kerrie cried. “No, it is mine, all mine.”

  Barbara stood as if she were the guest lecturer at a sorority party. “It doesn’t matter who is to blame. It’s done and it can’t be undone. Now we have to make the best of it. You two can go somewhere for a few weeks and come back married. Everyone will know when the baby is born that it’s early, but Kerrie is right. Folks don’t care about those things these days. Your friends will still be your friends and no one will even talk about it after a while.”

  “I can’t go away,” Pecos said. “I have a job at the sheriff’s office. I report for duty tonight to be trained as a dispatcher.” He had to keep his job. He was about to be a husband and a father now. If Brad didn’t kill him.

  “He’s got a job, Brad.” Barbara almost clapped her hands as if Pecos had finally done something right.

  Brad frowned. “Great. He’ll be leaving our daughter alone every night. Could this mess get any worse?”

  “She won’t be alone. Mr. Winston will be there. I’m staying with him.”

  Brad glowered. “You’re staying with us and that’s final.”

  Kerrie, Barbara, and Pecos all spoke at the same time: “No.”

  When her parents left to go have a discussion, Kerrie leaned close. “Pecos, you don’t have to do this. It’s too much.”

  “I’m doing this, Kerrie. If you’ll have me.”

  There were tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips. Kerrie leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Who would have thought a knight in shining armor would show up in a tie?”

  “I’m no knight. But I’ll help out for as long as you need me. Now how about we walk down to Mr. Winston’s house and ask if we can rent from him for a few months?”

  She stood and took his hand. “How are you going to explain that black eye when you show up for work tonight?”

  “I’ll just say my new wife is very passionate.”

  Kerrie stepped aside and Pecos saw her parents staring at them. Barbara smiled slightly as if she thought they were cute together. Brad still had that future killer look in his eyes.

  Barbara took over. “We’ve figured it out. We’ll call that new preacher and get him to marry you two this afternoon. Just a small ceremony in his office. Then we can work on fixing up your room for two. Your father insists.”

  “There won’t be any celebrating.” Brad glared at Pecos. “There is nothing happy about this wedding.”

  Kerrie pulled him toward the door. “Pecos and I have got a lot to talk about, Mom. See you later.”

  Barbara opened her mouth to say something, then stopped.

  Pecos and Kerrie ran to his old pickup. He’d been on his own for two days and everything was about to change again. He had a feeling life might not go the way he planned, but it was certainly going to be interesting.

  Chapter 28

  Morning

  Sam

  Sam took his time dressing. He wanted to look proper for his last day as a pastor in honor of his father. He now understood his dad better than he ever had. It’s hard not to get mixed up in people’s lives, their problems, their dreams, when they look to you for help. He really felt a duty to lead them, not just yell at them on Sunday.

  He had learned something else, too. He’d discovered that he wasn’t dead yet. He’d lived in a desert so long he barely recognized the rain of emotions until Anna Presley wrapped her arms around him and pressed her warm body against his. He came alive.

  He refused to dwell on the way she hurt him when she made light of what happened. She had given him so much, he could deal with the sting of rejection at the end.

  For that one hour they’d held each other, he’d felt newly born and he was thankful for that. He’d learned he could still feel. But he wished she hadn’t started something she had no intention of finishing. Last night when they were rolled up in the blanket and his arms were around her, he thought there was something between them. The start of something that might grow.

  But she’d made it plain when they said good night at his car that she was just playing around. Passing time. She wasn’t looking for more than an hour under the stars. Meanwhile, Sam had no idea what he wanted. Not love—he’d given up on that. Not a relationship, considering that if they were talking they were arguing. What, then?

  Now that he thought about it, Sam figured Anna had been smart to stop something that had no chance of going anywhere.

  Sam strolled around the bachelor parsonage. The place had grown on him. He was starting
to give the plaster angels names.

  At ten he headed to the church, and found the back door locked. Maybe Monday was a day off and no one had bothered to tell him. He used his key and went in.

  Sure enough, in his office he saw that church hours were posted. No office hours on Monday.

  Stella wasn’t at her desk, of course. She probably stayed up all night talking to Anna.

  Without its usual activity, the church felt strangely empty. Sam heard no janitor bumping his way down the hallways. The lights were all off, giving the place a melancholy feel, as if yesterday’s joy and peace had slipped away.

  Sam sat down in his plain, little office and wrote out a short note saying he that he had to leave. An emergency. He was sorry.

  It wasn’t a lie. He did have to leave. The emergency was a fire up north of Denver. He’d had a text saying that if it kept growing, they’d need him tomorrow, if he could make it. Since Sam could either fly the plane or jump in if fighters were needed more than pilots, he was always in demand.

  A part of him regretted having to leave. Sam realized he’d always think of this as his hometown. If anyone asked, he’d simply say, “I’m from Honey Creek, Texas.” If they wanted to know where the town was, he’d add the slogan on the town sign, Where the Heart of Texas Beats.

  Sam stared at his note. He’d planned to give it to Stella, not just leave it on her desk. If her brother showed up, Sam could give it to him, but who knew where Benjamin was. People in this town seemed to appear and disappear at will. Like that sheriff who’d caused such a happy uproar during the Sunday service when he showed up with his new bride. Or Boone Buchanan, who didn’t even live in town, but was said by some to be the mayor’s fiancé. The way the mayor was dancing with that cowboy, she didn’t seem to be too brokenhearted about her missing boyfriend.

  Sam shook his head. He was turning into a local. He was even starting to worry about poor Daily Watts.