Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2)

by Jody A. Kessler

  Disbelieving how far he’d let this train get away from the station, he said, “Turn on a baseball game, will ‘ya?” He stared up at the television suspended from the ceiling. The game mattered little to him, but he wanted a believable way out of this conversation.

  A woman Dean didn’t recognize walked behind the bar and grabbed the remote control. “I got it,” she said.

  Gena turned to her replacement and flashed a wide smile. “Hey, thanks again for coming in.”

  As the girl pointed the remote at the T.V., Dean stole a look at her. He appraised her long, braided hair and narrow figure appreciatively. She wore dark jeans that reminded him of something his ex-wife might wear, but this woman had plain tennis shoes on, whereas Marissa would have worn something with deadly points and heels that no one should ever walk in. He never could understand where her toes were inside those awful shoes, but he had enough sense to know that she liked them, so he didn’t question her choice. Once again affirming that it’s better to keep his mouth shut.

  “I don’t see a listing for any games tonight,” the mystery woman said as she scrolled through the guide.

  “It was my attempt at shutting down Gena’s man-dar.”

  The two women exchanged a look that told Dean that he should definitely stop talking. He hid behind his beer as the new bartender asked, “How about Sports Center?”

  “Sure,” he answered and pretended to look toward the door, wondering how long it would take Badger to show.

  A couple of weeks earlier, Badger had found Dean’s grandmother listed in the phone directory. His Marine pal was coming all the way from Newfoundland where he had been contracted to maintain equipment for a gold mine during the last two years. Badger told her that his contract had ended, he was done with Canada, and was coming back to the States. Grandma Rosemary invited Badger out to Montana for a visit. That was all it took, and now Dean was faced with having to confront his past.

  He finished his bottle of beer and contemplated how numb he’d like to be for the meeting. Beer may not be sufficient for the task.

  His Marine days were part of the time in his life that he no longer thought about. That experience was securely tied in with meeting his wife and starting his family. He buried those thoughts two years ago, but he couldn’t tell Badger not to come. They had too much in common to ignore and throw away. Badger claimed to be a full-blooded Kainah Blackfoot; a Blood. He said his parents left Montana to find work in Colorado years before he was ever born, and then ended up in Butte when his father started working for a copper mine. That’s where Badger had grown up.

  Dean was an Amsskaapipikani, a South Piegan, but they were both Blackfoot, and it was rare to find anyone from home in the service. Strangers in their youth, sheer luck and synchronicity landed them in the same unit in the Marine Corps, deploying to Iraq. Badger was a few years older than Dean, but no one could ever tell because of his baby face and broad smile. Everyone in their squadron assumed they would be fast friends, including Badger. He was always eager to talk about home and tribal councils and the summer pow-wows, but Dean didn’t understand Badger’s motivations and remained cautious around the man. At least at first.

  Dean grew up on the reservation and Badger had never lived on one. It was hard for Dean to understand why Badger wanted to know so much about life there. It was home and nothing all that special, but Badge acted like he had missed out on something great. Dean tried to convince him that all he was missing was a bunch of boring nothing, but Badger never believed it, and pumped him for information constantly.

  During their five tours together, Dean began to trust and even like the opinionated, hot-headed Marine, and they eventually did become friends. Dean knew that after eight years in the military and all of the deployments with Badger, he should have kept in touch with his buddy. He also knew that he should have done a lot of things that he’d neglected, but life had taken a crushing turn for him, and he wanted to forget everything. He had to; otherwise, he was going to be singing his death song a lot sooner than his grandmother would approve of.

  Dean stared at his fingers resting against the bar and noticed how his hands looked like they belonged to some fifty-year-old roughneck, not the twenty-eight-year-old that he actually was. The grime and grease from running the drill rig and working on his truck wouldn’t leave the cracks in his skin for at least a week. By then, he could be on a new job drilling or be out repairing some broken part. Available work was there for him when he wanted it. He was lucky like that. So many others on the Reserve never knew steady work, and probably never would.

  He flexed his hand and felt the ripped skin tear open where he’d scraped his knuckles ten times too many. It’s too easy for his body to forget that he’s still a young man. The work at the mines made his knees and shoulders ache. It made him look older too, but that didn’t bother him. For all anyone else knew, he was just a cranky old bastard. It helped people stay away.

  Working the rigs paid well. The last contract had been decent, and his living expenses were so low that his paycheck would see him through for a few months. Now all he needed was regular sleep and time off from the ear-splitting machines. He was somewhat happy to be home, and grateful that Gena was working tonight before he holed up in his cabin. If he could endure this reunion with Badger quickly, he would then be free to disappear on his land until he left for his next job.

  “Will you grab me another Corona?”

  Gena was out of her apron and had her purse in her hands, but she leaned down and opened a cooler to retrieve yet another beer.

  “I don’t see your friend,” she accused as she opened the bottle and set it down in front of him, stuffing a wedge of lime into the top.

  “I’ll walk if he doesn’t show,” Dean said, placating her.

  “Twenty miles?” The dubious look was back.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and took a drink.

  “What’s going on?” the new bartender asked.

  She was inquisitive, but only just, with nothing particularly friendly in the straight line of her mouth or the cool gaze behind her doe-shaped eyes.

  Dean chanced a steady look at her face. Even in his drunken stupor, he could observe and assess a target in seconds. It was a desirable trait to have in the field, and he had often been consulted by his Commanding Officers for his keen vision. He decided that she was definitely Native, but looked different than the girls he was used to seeing on the Blackfoot Reserve. Her face was slimmer and more angular, kind of like her body. Her eyes were deeply set, or maybe it was just the way that she looked back at him. There was a shield behind those dark eyes, and it felt awfully familiar. He didn’t want to see any more, and looked at the T.V. quickly before he noticed too much, or she did.

  “Kai, this is my cousin, Dean. I take care of him because he’s a good tipper, and he’s family. Plus he’s usually not too big of a pain in my ass,” Gena said.

  “Don’t listen to her,” he said without looking at them. “I am.”

  Unable to help himself, he glanced at Kai for the second it took to see her raised eyebrows and lack of enthusiasm.

  “Dean, this is my friend, Kai. She’s working here during the tourist season while she’s out of school for the summer. Don’t give her a hard time.” Gena said this last part in a playful way, but he knew she meant it.

  He swallowed. His mouth felt dry. Dean couldn’t remember ever having felt like he’d swallowed his tongue because of meeting a woman for the first time. “Hey,” he said, and gave a brusque nod.

  “Now give me your keys.” Gena held out her hand expectantly.

  “I thought you were leaving,” he grumbled.

  “I am. Right now. So hand them over. Kai can hold them for you until Badger gets here. I’ll find out later if you’ve lied to me about your fake ride.”

  Knowing she wouldn’t give up, he dug out the key to his truck and then watched Gena hand it over to her friend. Kai slipped it into her apron pocket, and he knew he’d just been swin
dled out of his key for a twelve pack of beer.

  “He’ll be here,” he said.

  Gena gave him an evil smile and turned to Kai. “Stop serving him whenever you like. Especially if he gets out of line.”

  “Oh, I will,” she said with a sobering glance at Dean.

  “You’re the one out of line, Gena. Without me, this dump would shut down. You’d be jobless, and we can’t have that.”

  Dean could hear the alcohol starting to warp his tongue. He hated that. Despised himself for being drunk in public, but it was the only way that he’d been able to handle the reality of his life.

  “I mean it. Don’t be afraid to cut him off,” Gena said to Kai as she walked out from behind the bar toward the door. “There’s a list of numbers next to his name on the phone pad. Anyone you call will come pick him up if his ride doesn’t show.”

  >><><<

  Kai watched Gena as she gave her an encouraging nod and then hustled out the door, excited for her date.

  She went to the sinks and began washing glasses before moving on to restock beer bottles. The couple of patrons sitting at the bar weren’t of the chatty sort, and her one waitress on duty tonight was taking care of the floor. With virtually nothing to do, Kai thought about spending her summer in this place, and almost walked right out. It wasn’t ideal, but it should be easy cash, and she needed all she could get. Working with Gena part time at the daycare was her better job, but the hours were minimal and so was the pay. She and Gena had become trusted friends quickly, so when Gena offered her the summer position at Growler’s, she took it. She decided that she could give up one summer working both days and nights to build her savings, especially since her aunt was willing to watch her son. She needed to have a few dollars saved up before the fall and winter semesters began. Bartending would have to hold her over.

  Now that she had been through her first week, Kai could see why Gena always looked so tired after a long night at the bar. The customers could drain the life out of you with one dreadful drunken story after another. That, and she’d already been asked out a half dozen times by belligerent and loathsome old men who made her want to gag.

  Now she found herself behind the bar trying not to stare at Gena’s cousin while wondering just how many beers the guy could drink before floating off his bar stool and drowning in his own watery piss. It’s really too bad that someone with such an amazing body and ruggedly handsome face could waste it by dating Senorita Corona.

  Half an hour before last call rolled around, his supposed friend had still not arrived, so she stood in front of Dean and asked, “Can I call someone for you?”

  “No thanks.”

  His eyes were unfocussed, and she thought again about the unfortunate commitment she’d made in agreeing to work at the bar through the tourist season.

  “We’re closing soon.”

  “How about another beer then?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said while tapping her fingers on the bar.

  “The injustices of the world never stop, do they?” he slurred. “Someone always thinks they know what’s best for you.”

  “You know what I call an injustice? Making your server responsible for taking care of you because you’re too drunk to do it yourself. That seems a bit unfair to me.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” He paused, attempting to focus on her face. “What’s your name again? Leah? No, that’s not it, is it? I have a terrible memory when I’ve been drinking.”

  “Really? I wonder why that would be.” Her sarcasm was probably lost on him in his drunken haze, but she didn’t care.

  “Kai. Right? I got it,” he said, sloppy pride tingeing his voice. “I can’t put my unfortunate state of being on you. I’ve got buffalo chips for brains. Excuse me,” he apologized, and then pushed himself off the sticky vinyl barstool.

  Surprised by the unexpected response, she watched him shuffle over to the restroom and disappear inside. Not knowing what he may or may not do next, she kept an eye on the door to make sure he didn’t just pass out on the floor. This was her first night to shut down the bar by herself, and it would be embarrassing to have to call Gena to come back in and help her. Her friend was giddy with excitement over having an actual date, and Kai wasn’t about to ruin it. When Dean didn’t reappear after ten minutes, she grudgingly knocked on the men’s room door.

  No answer. She sighed and then berated herself for telling her waitress that it was okay to leave an hour earlier. She dreaded having to handle a drunk man twice her size by herself, but she gritted her teeth and gingerly pushed the door open.

  Dean turned at the sound of the creaking door and embarrassment flushed her face as she saw that he was only slouched over the sink washing his hands, not passed out next to a vomit-filled toilet. She backed out of the restroom and let the door close in her face. Mortified that her suspicions had proved unwarranted, she was about to go hide behind the bar when something odd occurred to her, and she slammed the door back open.

  “Are you bleeding?” Kai strained to get a good look at his head.

  Dean’s hand rose to his forehead and she rushed forward. As she passed the trashcan, she noticed soiled paper towels that were bright red with blood.

  “What the hell did you do to yourself?”

  Dean tried to step around her and leave the bathroom, but she wouldn’t let him. Not until she got a look at the injury.

  “It’s nothing,” he said, and stumbled back into the sink.

  She gripped his arm, partly to steady him and partly so she could turn him around and look at his head. She recoiled as she stared at the split on his skin and the rising lump just above his right eyebrow.

  He ducked his head away from her so she couldn’t see it, and then pulled free of her loose grasp.

  “The damn door bites. Now back off. It’s nothing.” He walked out of the men’s room, leaving an astonished Kai standing inside with her mouth hanging open.

  Collecting herself, Kai followed him into the bar and then decided to call someone on Gena’s list. Looking around though, she realized that Dean had walked out into the late night and he was no longer her problem.

  Uneasy relief settled over her shoulders as she realized that she was at last completely alone and could now finish shutting down the bar. She wished Gena’s cousin would have just let her call someone, but she already knew not to argue or confront a drunk. If he could put himself in this situation, he could get himself out of it. With that in mind, she cleaned the bar top, the taps, shut down the jukebox, and closed her register.

  As Kai walked to her car, her brain told her that her son would be awake in five hours or less. Could she really handle working such late hours? The brutal reality that sleep had become a precious commodity felt like another drain on her spirit, but Kai knew it could be a lot worse. She could be broke, hungry, and homeless. She had firsthand experience with even worse fates than those. Sleepy was the lesser of the current evils, and if she had to remind herself a thousand times a day that she was working to make her and her son’s lives better, then she would keep it up like a mantra. She yawned as she turned the key to start the engine and dreamed about what it will be like after she graduated nursing school, started working at the medical clinic, and could get her own place.

  She drove across the lot toward the empty street, but as she passed the only other parked vehicle, she happened to see a pair of boots dangling over the edge of the open tailgate.

  “Why me?” she asked the sliver of moon hanging over the western horizon.

  Unable to ignore her natural tendency to nurture and take care of the needy, she stopped her car and climbed out. The thought of him lying there with a concussion forced her to drag her sorry, exhausted self over to his supine body.

  She approached with caution. “Yo. You alive in there?”

  “I wasn’t until you started screeching at me,” he said, and sat up.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not screechy.”

  “No
. You sound more like a bawling, sultry cow.” He covered his forehead with his palm, winced, and then lay back down in the bed of his truck.

  “A cow?” she asked, insulted and disbelieving the craziness unfolding on her first night alone at the bar.

  “A key stealing cow,” he said.

  Right. She touched the pocket on her apron and felt the foreign object. She started to toss it over, but remembered Gena threatening him about not driving. And what happened to his buddy?

  She wanted to go home. Unlocking the bar to call strangers in the middle of the night to come pick up some drunk Indian wasn’t happening either. She could call Gena who was probably back from her date, but it didn’t seem fair to do that to her friend on a much needed night off. Her mind imagined calling the cops and letting law enforcement teach this enormously inconvenient man a lesson, but she knew she would never ruin a man’s reputation and record for making unwanted comments while lying in the back of his own truck.

  “Can I have my key, Kai? Or do you just want to stare at me a little longer first?”

  “You’re a serious douche. And the answer is no. Now get up and get into my car before I change my mind.”

  He pulled himself up once again and she noticed that the strain of his movements had opened the cut on his face. In the shadowed light of the parking lot she watched a trickle of blood seep from the wound, drawing a thin black line down his forehead.

  “I’ll quit bothering you if you just open my truck. I’ll sleep it off in the parking lot.”

  It was a good alternative to her idea, but Kai had already made up her mind to take him home herself. Sleep could wait, and Gena wouldn’t have to know just how out of hand the night had gotten. Besides, if she could get a better look at his head, she could take him over to the emergency room if needed.

  “Get down from there and tell me where you live. Do it,” she ordered after he merely stared at her, unmoving.