Page 21 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
Late in the afternoon, the sun slanted through the windows of the bar, casting light across the polished bar top. Aubrey’s hands moved with practiced efficiency as she stacked the last of the clean glasses.
“Thanks for coming in, Frank,” she called out to a departing patron. “Tell Marge I said hello.”
“Will do,” he called in return, heading outside.
As the door swung shut behind Frank, Aubrey allowed herself a moment to breathe, her shoulders relaxing slightly. The quiet of the empty bar was a stark contrast to the bustling energy of just an hour ago. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at how smoothly things had run, even as her mind raced ahead to the evening preparations.
The jingle of the doorbell interrupted her reverie, and Aubrey looked up to see Betty’s familiar figure silhouetted in the doorway. You couldn’t mistake the purple curls and sunshine demeanor. A genuine smile spread across Aubrey’s face, chasing away some of the lingering fatigue. Betty had become very close with Willow, but Aubrey appreciated her too. She was the grandmother of The Naked Moose that everyone loved to be around.
“Right on time, as usual,” Aubrey said, already reaching for a shaker and various bottles. “I’ve got something special for you today.”
Betty settled onto her usual stool, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. “You know I’m always game for your experiments, honey. What’s on the menu this time?”
Aubrey’s hands moved swiftly, measuring and pouring her latest concoction. “It’s got local huckleberry vodka, fresh lemon juice and a touch of lavender syrup,” she explained, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice.
As she worked, she found herself relaxing into the familiar routine. Betty’s presence always brought a sense of comfort, reminding Aubrey of the community she’d found here in Timber Falls, even if she was missing the big city.
“Sounds divine,” Betty said, leaning forward to watch Aubrey’s technique. “You’ve got quite the talent, you know. This place wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Aubrey felt a flush of pleasure at the compliment, even as a part of her wanted to deflect it. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, giving the shaker a final, vigorous shake. “I think The Naked Moose would do just fine without me. Willow and Charly run the show here.” They’d even hired Miguel to handle the small menu of food they offered, so now Aubrey was more freed up to focus on the cocktail menu, which they were becoming known for.
With a flourish, she strained the vibrant purple cocktail into a chilled glass, garnishing it with a sprig of fresh lavender. “Here you go,” she said, sliding it across to Betty. “Let me know what you think.”
As Betty took her first sip, Aubrey found herself holding her breath, a familiar mix of pride and anxiety swirling in her chest. It was more than just a drink; it was a piece of herself, offered up for judgment.
Betty’s eyes widened as she savored the drink. “Oh my, Aubrey, this is divine! What do you call it?”
“Lavender Twilight,” Aubrey replied, a small smile playing on her lips. “I thought it might be nice for the summer evenings.”
Betty nodded approvingly, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Speaking of twilight romances, have you seen Willow and Eli lately? Those two are practically glowing.”
Aubrey smiled. “I have. It’s…it’s really something, isn’t it?”
As she absently polished a glass, Aubrey’s mind wandered to her friends. Willow, who’d been through so much, now seemed to radiate happiness. And Eli, once so tormented, looked at peace for the first time since Aubrey had known him. “They deserve it,” Aubrey said softly. “After everything they’ve been through…”
Betty’s keen gaze settled on Aubrey. “And what about you, dear? Any chance of finding your own cowboy to ride off into the sunset with?”
Aubrey let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Me? No, I think I’ll leave the sunset rides to Willow and Eli. I’m more of a…sunrise and strong coffee kind of girl.”
But even as she deflected with humor, Aubrey felt a familiar ache in her chest. Her life was nowhere near where she’d thought it’d be nearing thirty years old. She busied herself with wiping down the bar, avoiding Betty’s knowing look.
“Besides,” Aubrey continued, her tone lighter than she felt, “relationships and I don’t exactly have the best track record. I think I’ll stick to what I’m good at—making drinks and keeping this place running.”
Betty leaned forward, her weathered hands clasping Aubrey’s. “Now, you listen here, honey. Good men are like fine whiskey—they’re out there, but you’ve got to know where to look and when to take a sip.”
Aubrey’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “And what if I’ve already had my fill of bad whiskey?”
“Then you know better what to avoid,” Betty countered, her eyes twinkling. “It’s all about timing. The right man will come along when you least expect it.”
“Maybe,” Aubrey conceded, not wanting to disappoint Betty. But inside, her walls remained firmly in place.
The jingle of the bell cut through their conversation, drawing Aubrey’s attention. Her breath caught as Gunner strode in, carrying his guitar, his presence filling the room like a chord struck on his guitar. But he wasn’t alone.
A young girl, no more than twelve, strode next to him, her eyes wide with wonder. Behind them, a woman—clearly the girl’s mother—followed, her expression a mix of gratitude and admiration.
Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Gunner lean down, murmuring something to the girl that made her giggle. His rugged features softened, those soulful eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Well, I’ll be,” Betty whispered, echoing Aubrey’s thoughts. “Looks like our resident country star’s got a softer side.”
