Page 30 of OctoBEARfest

The town really was a lovely little place, snugged right up against the mountains. Bill had mentioned it would start snowing pretty soon, but that they usually got through Oktoberfest without the white stuff. The whole place had an old-timey old-west feel to it, with the tallest buildings being maybe four stories, but those were mostly church steeples or statuary on top of government buildings. It was all mostly stonework, not wood like she actually thought of the Old West, althoughthat idea was probably from movies rather than towns that had survived the gold rushes and railroads coming in. The streets were unexpectedly wide, and traffic was surprisingly limited, which Bill had waved off with a pass of his hand. "It's the whole Colorado outdoors lifestyle thing, only moreso for Renaissance. Pedestrians and cyclists get priority. There's a stoplight you have to wait at for almost five minutes over in front of the courthouse. Other places have statement sculptures. Renaissance has a statement stoplight."

Gwen had burst out laughing. "That's incredible."

"It makes everybody mad, including locals," Bill had replied with a grin. "Most of us learn not to drive on Court Street at all, and tourists get alotof tickets there. And since it and Main Street are the main streets, it cuts way, way down on traffic."

There was an airport that catered to the winter tourist season, but of course, ran year 'round with flights to the West Coast and as far east as Chicago and Atlanta. A girl could get to most major cities for gigs from here, if she really needed to. And, although she'd driven, there was a new high-speed train that went from there to Denver, and she could get anywhere in the world from Denver.

Not that Gwen was thinking about moving to Renaissance. That would be ridiculous.

But itwasawfully pretty, and she could obviously drop by the Harlequin to play any time she felt like it, and—and Gwen Booker was smart enough not to throw her entire life over for some guy. At this stage of the game she was, at least. For sure. Definitely. She'd learned her lesson on that front at least three times, and in her grimmer moments recognized that there was probably some kind of pattern there that involved her horrible father and bad decisions regarding men.

Bill really didn't seem like a bad-decision kind of man, though. He practically had 'responsibility' written all over him,given how seriously he took running his family's business, and how frustrated he was with his younger brothers' lackadaisical attitude toward it.

He was the kind of man who would tell her moving to Renaissance so she could snuggle up to his huge, safe self some more was an unwise decision. Dammit.

Gwen breathed, "Hold your horses, girl," under her breath to herself. They had plans for a not-gig-related get-to-know-you weekend the next weekend. That was far enough in advance to be planning stuff for a guy she met yesterday.

Bill, who apparently had amazing hearing, said, "Horse girl?" in an odd tone, and Gwen laughed as they headed back to her car.

"Not really. I haven't ridden since I was a teenager, and I only did then for work. I liked it, though. You?"

"I think it would be cruel and unusual punishment to make a horse carry a guy my size. And they don't like how I smell."

"Really?" Without thinking about it, Gwen leaned over to give him a sniff after they'd both gotten in the car. He still smelled as nice as he had the night before, with the hint of cinnamon fading. "I think you smell nice."

He looked down at her with her nose on his shoulder, fighting off a grin. "Well, thank you."

Gwen sat up again, trying to find some shred of dignity. "I'm not weird."

Bill totally lost the battle with his grin and went straight into a peal of laughter. "Glad to hear it. Let's go home, weirdo."

Gwen's heart gave another silly jump at the wordhome, although she told herself, very sternly, that Bill certainly didn't mean it that way. His home, maybe, more or less, but nothers. Still, she felt bubbly inside, and the drive back to the pub was a quick one filled with more light-hearted chat. Pulling up, shesaw Penny's van, and yowled in dismay. "They got here before us! Oh, but only just, okay, that's fine."

The rest of her band members were in fact just piling out of the van. Penny, a firecracker of a drummer at five foot five; Myles, the lanky bass player almost as tall as Bill who towered above her, Gemma, the keyboardist, and Sandy, who played guitar. Penny waved at the Impala, shouted a greeting, and widened her eyes when Bill got out the passenger door, her gaze darting back and forth between Gwen and the big man with interest. "This is Bill Torben," Gwen called. "He's the owner. We've been out flyering the town!"

"Uh huh." Penny, still wide-eyed, came over to shake Bill's hand. She was a full foot shorter than he was even in her boots, and made entirely of curves and red hair. "Nice to meet you, Bill. I'm Penny, the drummer."

Bill's hand, which enveloped even Gwen's, swallowed half of Penny's arm. He was a little wide-eyed, too, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you too. Welcome to Renaissance and the Thunder Bear Brewpub."

"Thanks. Those are Myles, Sandy, and Gemma. I hope you've got a lot of beer ready, because our socials are actually going nuts." She turned to Gwen, all business. "We had people coming in anyway, you know that, but with this 'OMG potential disaster' thing, they're frickin'rallying, G. I got people posting road trip pics from all over the western half of the country. We got some folks coming down fromEdmonton."

"In a car?" Gwen asked in horrified appreciation. "That's a full day's drive! I mean, a twenty-four hour day!"

"In a car," Penny confirmed. "They left last night and are driving in shifts. Planning to be here by tonight. We better put on a hell of a show."

Sandy, who sang a tenor second lead as well as playing guitar, called, "We always do," in an alto much lighter than hersinging voice. Myles put a laconic thumb into the air, and Gwen ended up beaming at her bandmates.

"Yeah, we do. Okay, Bill, do you mind if we just kind of do our thing for a while? We'll want to get set up and make sure the sound system is all working."

"I brought the screens," Penny said in a significant tone.

Gwen paused, looking from her to the van and back again. "Really? You think it's going to go that well?"

"Babe, you got two new songs from our album going viral and promised four more over the weekend, which, thank you very much you might havewarnedus about, and you sent up a bat-signal-distress-call. People arelovingthis. Yeah, I think it's going to go this well."

"Viral?" Gwen's voice rose. "I didn't film them or anything?"

"Mydude," Penny said in a voice she reserved for when Gwen was being particularly dim, "youdidn't have to film it. The audience at the Harlequin last night did."

---