Page 19 of Cinnamon Cider Whiskey
“This place is nice. Thanks for taking me out tonight.” Ever since she’d been back, after spending time with family, she always cried in Austin’s arms half the night. She didn’t know why the tears came every time she laid her head on the pillow. She was glad to be away from Pete. It was a relief to be starting over. But not knowing where Pete was had started to grate on her nerves. While she hadn’t reached out to anyone she knew in Boise, Brad’s contacts had told him that no one had seen him since he’d been bailed out. The closer it got to his first appearance in court, the more she felt on edge.
“I thought you might like getting out of the house for a change. And it is Friday night.”
“I’ve honestly been afraid to leave the ranch.”
“Why?” Austin asked.
“Afraid of what people are saying about me.”
Austin nodded. “I get that.” He glanced around. “To be honest, sometimes when I come into town, there are people who walk on the other side of the street when they see me.”
She reached across the table and took his hand. “That’s terrible. I would think that people would have realized you’re innocent after a year.”
“The problem is that about once a month either a federal agent comes to town or a story hits some news channel, stirring it all up again.”
“Why don’t you fight back? Make your own statement. Isn’t that what Tom or whatever his name does?”
“That’s what he used to do. Now when he speaks out, it’s asking for help. He doesn’t attack me anymore. And it’s not that I haven’t thought about it, but the one lawyer that JW had metalk to recommended that my silence is golden. That anything I say could end up being used against me in any courtroom or the court of public opinion if and when they do find Charity. Besides, at this point, I only care about what my friends and family think of me.”
Boone returned with their drinks and tray of what smelled like a little piece of heaven. “The apps are on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Austin said.
“If I didn’t, my wife would have my head, and you know that.”
Austin smiled. “Thank her for me.”
Boone nodded. “Do you know what you want?”
“I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu,” Cinnamon said. “Do you have a recommendation?”
“Of course, it’s my restaurant.” Boone tucked his long hair behind his ears. “You can’t go wrong with the steak, burger, or pulled pork. But our Cobb salad is to die for if you want something lighter.”
“Oh, I want the steak, medium rare. Does that come with a baked potato?” Cinnamon asked.
“I can make that happen. And our vegetable today is asparagus.” Boone took her menu.
“Sounds great,” she said.
“I’ll have the same. Medium for me.” Austin lifted his drink and sipped.
“He doesn’t know how to eat meat.” She shook her head. “He thinks if it’s red and bloody, it’s going to kill him.”
“I just don’t want it mooing at me.” Austin laughed.
“I’ll put your order right in.” Boone turned but paused as the hostess brought a group of four to the patio.
One of the women pointed at Austin and whispered something to the hostess before turning and scurrying back inside.
Boone let out an exasperated sigh.
“I’m sorry,” Austin said.
“Don’t be.” Boone tucked the menus under his arm. “I can’t stand that woman anyway. If she never returned to this restaurant, it would be too soon.”
“Why?” Cinnamon asked.
“Because she’s a stuck-up bitch who likes to insert herself in other people’s business,” Boone said. “She actually had the nerve once to tell me that my son shouldn’t be in my own place of business. I mean really. Paget and Henry stopped in right before the dinner rush one day and I was short-staffed, so I would have to stay that night. Kind of like tonight. Henry wanted to say good night to Daddy. No big deal. He was in and out. That freaking lady went off on me like I gave my kid a cigar and three fingers of scotch.”
