Page 19 of Howling Night

Donna pushed herself away from the counter. “Let’s get you acquainted with everything. Come on back.”

I stepped behind the bar, feeling like I didn’t belong, as she pointed out the essentials.

“Beer taps are here. We’ve got six local brews and the usual domestics. Wine’s in this fridge, but no one ever orders that. Hard liquor up on these shelves, mixers down below. Glasses are underneath. Cash register’s pretty straightforward.”

She showed me how to operate the register, pointing out the envelope Steven left for me. Next, she showed me how to pour a proper draft beer and where to find the coasters or anything else I might need.

“Most folks order simple stuff,” she said, studying me.

“Okay,” I said, breathing as I wiped my hands on my jeans.

She laughed as she shook her head. “Don’t be nervous. You’ve got this. It’ll be beer, whiskey neat, and maybe a Jack and Coke here and there. Nothing that complicated. If someone orders something you don’t know, just call me over.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” I said, biting my lip.

“You won’t be,” she said.

Just as she was about to show me where the napkins were stored, the front door swung open with a squeak. I looked up, instinctively straightening my posture.

“That’s Paul. He’ll run the kitchen,” Donna said, turning back to the napkins.

The man was tall with broad shoulders, dressed casually in a T-shirt with the bar’s name printed in a small font on one side and his name on the other. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and looked up.

I froze as I realized I’d seen the man before… but where? A sharp jawline and those intense eyes… my mind raced, flipping through mental images until it landed on the right one.

Oh God. The woods.

ChapterNine

Donna lightly touched my arm. “Let me introduce you real quick. Paul,” she said, leading me to the other side of the bar. “This is Everly. She’s helping us out tonight. Everly, Paul.”

Paul glanced up, his gaze flickering over me without any hint of recognition. His eyes were distant, like he was physically present but mentally somewhere else entirely.

“Hey,” he mumbled, giving a halfhearted nod before heading toward the kitchen. “Gotta get back there. A little late.”

“I see that,” Donna said, flicking a look at the clock above the shelves of booze.

I stood frozen as he went to the kitchen, and Donna went back behind the bar. There was no doubt in my mind that it was the man Ryder had been talking to in the woods. Did he really not recognize me, or was he just pretending?

“Everly,” Donna said, waving at me to join her. She arranged some glasses behind the counter, flashing me a quick look as I stepped up beside her. “Don’t take it personally. He’s been in a mood for a couple of weeks now.”

“Oh,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s fine.”

Before I could dwell on it further, the front door swung open and a group of four people walked in, laughing loudly. It almost seemed as though they’d already gotten a head start on the drinking for the night.

“Here we go,” Donna said with a wink.

The group settled at a table near the bar, and within an hour, The Timber Tavern transformed. What had been a quiet, almost empty space became a packed, rowdy establishment that seemed to defy the town’s small population. Country music blared from speakers in the corners, competing with dozens of overlapping conversations.

I struggled to hear orders over the noise, leaning so far forward that I nearly crawled across the bar-top.

“What was that?” I shouted for the third time to a man with a weathered face and a trucker cap.

“Jack and Coke!” he yelled back, holding up two fingers.

I nodded and turned to make the drinks. My hands had found a rhythm — pour, mix, serve — and I was starting to enjoy the fast pace. I was so busy I couldn’t think, and the tips jar was filling nicely too.

Donna worked the other end of the bar, her movements fluid and confident as she fielded multiple orders without missing a beat. Every so often, she’d check on me, offering a thumbs up or a smile when our eyes met.

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