Page 30 of Flick

Gunner put out his hand as she walked closer, but she opened her arms and hugged him.

“We’re huggers around here. Welcome,” Beth said.

“It’s good to be here. Flick couldn’t stop talking about how great Bluff Creek was, and although I loved Mistletoe Canyon, it wasn’t home.”

“Hey, food’s on. Let’s eat, then relax,” Bootstrap yelled from the clubhouse.

They walked toward the clubhouse, with Flick grabbing Brody’s small bags from his saddlebags.

“Is this it?” Flick asked.

“I travel light. Half of that contains my chef’s knives. Three pairs of jeans, socks, and shirts are plenty for me,” Gunner replied as they walked in.

“Prospect, grab his bags and take them to his room,” Bootstrap directed.

The prospect walked quickly over but was limping.

“Get a move on. Stupidity doesn’t get you any grace,” Bootstrap yelled.

Bootstrap motioned to the bar, and Beth, along with the guys, grabbed drinks. Beth didn’t like beer that well, except for Bluff Creek Brews, which was the beer the club brewed. All other beers made her imagine that’s how piss tasted. Ugh.

They sat down at the huge tables Della, Winnie, and Rose had arranged.

“Okay, I know this might not be the game you all usually play in the clubhouse, but I wanted a game night. Here are the teams. It’s a guessing game similar to that old game Concentration on television. You’re trying to get your teammate to guess the word, but there is a list of words you can’t use. Also, no hand gestures allowed, got it?” Winnie asked, staring around the room.

Beth hid her smile because her sister was serious about games. Their family was very competitive. Their parents had never let them win just because they were younger. They wanted the sisters to learn that there were consequences of winning and losing, along with the girls learning strategy.

“Oh, come on. Beth and Flick are partners. Cheating much? They’re best friends and know what the other is thinking with a look. Della and I haven’t spent that much time together. Unfair,” Brew whined.

“Are you going to ball up or cry about it, biker boy?” Rose chided, rubbing her knuckle against her cheek.

Laughter echoed, with Bootstrap jeering at Brew.

The prospect limped back in and gave Gunner his room key.

“Fourth room on the left,” he said.

Gunner nodded his thanks.

“Prospect, tell the group why you’re limping,” Bootstrap directed.

“A friend asked me to run a half marathon with them,” he said.

Beth smiled. The prospect looked young and nervous.

“Oh, that sounds fun. Do your feet hurt from training?” Beth asked.

“No, the half marathon was Saturday, and I had no idea you were supposed to train,” he said.

Beth stared over at the girls across the table. Winnie’s eyes were wide, but Rose had laid her head on the table and was chuckling.

“I want to make sure I heard you right. You just decided to run a half marathon and ran it that weekend? Isn’t a half marathon thirteen miles? Do you run on a treadmill or anything like that?” Gunner asked.

Bootstrap was guffawing, slapping his leg and shaking his head.

Beth couldn’t believe someone would just decide to run a half marathon.

“Go cover the guardhouse. You can sit as long as you can see the gate and anyone coming up to it,” Brew directed.

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