Page 3 of Beat around the Bush
She frowned. “The rain makes my hair frizzy. Stop avoiding the question.”
Accepting that she wasn’t going to back down, I sat back in my chair. “I got in an accident last night.”
Her eyes widened. “A car accident? Are you okay?”
I leaned forward in my chair, setting my elbows on my knees. My body felt restless. “I’m fine. Just got rear-ended.”
“The square body was hit? Is the truck okay?” She sounded more worried about the vehicle than she was about me.
My eyes narrowed. “You’re asking if my truck is okay?”
“That thing is basically an artifact. You should be preserving it.”
A frown pulled at my mouth. “It’s a ‘78.”
“Your point? You forget that’s already forty-six years ago. The truck is only fourteen years older than you,” she poked.
“You trying to say I’m old?”
She held her hands up in mock surrender. “You said it, not me.”
Shaking my head, I shuffled through the papers on my desk, coming across the application for the interview today.
Jacey must have seen the stress on my face because she leaned her broom against the door frame and came to sit in the chair across from me. “Talk to me, Len.”
“I’m just nervous about this interview.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be the potential employee who’s nervous?”
I shot her another frown, then sat back in my chair again. “I need this one to work out. While I love the store-”
“And working with me,” she added.
“I’m overworked,” I continued, ignoring her comment. “I’ve barely had time to see my family lately. All these hours covering the register, on top of all the paperwork I have to do, I’m stretched thin.”
Jacey scooted her chair forward an inch, resting her hands on my desk. “I know. You’re doing everything you can. Don’t pile the world on your shoulders.”
“I have no choice. Not until I find someone to hire.” Jacey hadn’t wanted the manager position when the opportunity came up. I’d jumped at the opening, dying to dive further into the business side of things. Little did I know, I’d just be doing both jobs with a hundred more things on my to-do list.
Tumbleweed Feed was a mom-and-pop shop, created and owned by one of the locals before he retired, which was when I took over the business.
“I have a good feeling about this one,” she said confidently.
“Let’s hope.”
I grabbed the register till from the safe under my desk and stood, walking out to the floor. Jacey followed, the broom back in her hands. Popping open the register, I set the till inside and closed the drawer.
Jacey got to work with the rest of the opening checklist, flipping the sign on the door from closed to open and turningon the rest of the lights in the store. I decided to stay up front with Jacey while I waited for the interview time to roll around.
A few locals came in, purchasing grain, chicken feed, horse dewormer, dog treats, you name it. For a small town, we filled a large demand and had a good amount of customers come through every day, which meant there was rarely a dull moment. We knew a lot of the customers by name, but every now and then, a stranger would come in, just passing through town. Not many people moved here, but when we did get the occasional new resident, we welcomed them with open arms.
“How’s it going, Len?” Eric, one of the local cattle ranchers, asked as he set his bag of electrolytes on the counter.
I turned from the bulletin board beside the register. “Same old, same old. How’s that rescue horse treating your daughter?” Eric’s daughter had fallen in love with one of the mustangs that Bottom of the Buckle had taken in from an elderly lady who couldn’t handle him.
He pulled his wallet out as Jacey scanned the barcode on the bag. “He’s a wild one, but she’s breakin’ him in. Almost thought about callin’ Brandy out a time or two.”
My little sister’s best friend, Brandy, broke horses on the ranch, and helped with the more unruly ones at the rescue. If anyone needed help with a green horse, they called her.
