Page 3 of Tempting Fate
“I have something in my eye.” She tilted the rearview and held her eyelid up, pretending to look for a lash. It was easier than telling the truth. Gabe was the only person in this town who didn’t know the full story of her past, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was bad enough that he knew the shoddy way she’d treated Logan when she first found out about him. All those years, Ray had abandoned his only son and kept any knowledge of him a well-guarded secret.
“Let me see.” He tried to squeeze his big hand through the opening, but it wouldn’t fit.
“There,” she said. “It’s gone. All good.”
“I called Annie and got the things on her list.” He held up a grocery bag. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
She should’ve been thankful that he’d saved her a trip to Graeagle. Instead, she felt a sting of humiliation for not being able to stand up to Donna and Ethel. For letting Gabe see her run out of the Nugget Market with her tail tucked between her legs.
“You want to get a cup of coffee?”
“Cawfee?”
“You making fun of my Jersey?”
She took another pass at her face with the back of her hand. It was hard to be a smart ass with raccoon eyes. “You do know the nearest Starbucks is in Glory Junction? That’s thirty minutes up the road.”
“Forty-eight minutes to Dunkin’.” He grinned, and the dimple in his chin became more prominent. It looked like someone had shot him with a BB gun.
She motioned her head at his bag. “The groceries will spoil.”
“There’s nothing perishable.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” The truth was she wanted a stiff drink. Badly. Caffeine was a tolerable substitute, she’d learned during the last few months. “We’re not going to the Bun Boy.” Donna Thurston might order one of her employees to pee in Raylene’s cup.
“That only leaves one place.”
“Meet you there.” Raylene didn’t wait for a response, just backed out of her parking space and headed to the square to the only sit-down restaurant in town, which also happened to be a bar and a bowling alley.
At least the owners of the Ponderosa hardly knew her. They’d moved up to Nugget from San Francisco, bought the place and rehabbed it while Raylene was still living in Denver with TAB—That Asshole Butch—though her reputation likely preceded her.
She found a spot in front of the Lumber Baron Inn, a Victorian B&B that took up a quarter of Nugget’s business district, such as it was. The hotel was decked out in holiday decorations, as was the entire square. Lights, boughs of holly, and big red bows flocked with a smattering of leftover snow. She suspected the garland and ribbons would be coming down soon, since it was mid-January, and she would’ve stopped to take it all in but it was too cold to loiter. There were a lot of memories in this square. Farmers’ markets, festivals, and concerts. In high school, after a game, they’d all pile into someone’s truck and meet at the Bun Boy, where they’d blare music and eat burgers at the outdoor picnic tables.
Back then, she and her family had been the closest thing to royalty this town ever had. And she’d been the reigning princess, the girl most likely to have everything. Beauty, wealth, and the Rosser’s Rock and River Ranch. A rusty laugh bubbled up in her throat, because all of it was gone.Look at me now.Dull, poor, and alone.
A blast of welcome heat and a Dixie Chicks song hit her as she entered the restaurant. Gabe had already claimed a table—she didn’t know how he’d beat her here—and waved her over.
“Did you fly?”
Again with the obnoxious grin. “Nope, I’m just faster than you.”
She took off her scarf and jacket, draped it over a chair, and took a quick look around.
“Doing a little recon?”
The man didn’t miss a trick, and it was kind of spooky. Retired from the Navy, he and Logan owned a private security firm and still did a lot of top-secret missions for the government.
“Just reliving my misspent youth.”
She watched Gabe scan the long, intricately carved bar. According to rumor, it had been salvaged from a Gold Rush bordello. But people around here liked to make up colorful stories, so the bar could’ve come from Ethan Allen for all Raylene knew.
“So this was your stomping ground, huh?”
She shrugged. “It sure didn’t look like this.” Back when she was a kid, the place smelled of cigarettes and cheap beer and looked like an old-man bar. Now it resembled one of those gourmet tap rooms on Nob Hill. Lots of dark wood paneling, period wall sconces, red velvet curtains, and pleather banquettes. Yet they’d still managed to retain the saloon’s cowboy vibe. A vibe that reminded her too much of her father.
“Sophie and Mariah take pride in the place, that’s for sure.” Gabe perused the menu. “You hungry?”
“We’re gonna eat in less than three hours.” It was potluck, which, knowing the good folks of Nugget, meant enough casseroles to fill the grange hall. The evening would likely prove to be the most trying dinner of Raylene’s life, depending on who attended.
