Chris nodded. “But as much as I rely on you, we need to get a few things straight if you’re going to continue working here.”
Juanita’s mouth pinched up and she seemed to swell to twice her size as she took in air through her nose. “Are you fixing to fire me? Because I’ll quit in a heartbeat if you want me to.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I want you to keep on working here. Like I said, I rely on you.” Chris shook his head to clear it. How did he get on the defensive?
“Then would you please tell me why you dragged me out here? I have customers waiting on their lunch, you know.”
Chris took a deep breath and tried again. “I didn’t say anything when you overheard my conversation with Carlos this morning.”
“Oh, is that what this is all about?” Juanita waved a dismissive hand. “Well, I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes. But you yourself said you don’t have the faintest clue of how we like things at the Dip ’n’ Dine. I was just trying to help.”
“And as I said, I appreciate your efforts.” When had he ever said he hadn’t the faintest clue? “But what I don’t appreciate, and what cannot continue, is your going out there and discussing things you overhear with the patrons.”
“Patrons? You mean Elizabeth? She’s one of my oldest friends. I don’t keep secrets from my friends, and if keeping secrets is part of this job, well then—”
Chris held up his hand to stop her. If he heard one more threatened resignation today, he’d probably take them all up on it, and then what would he do with the lunch crowd?
“Look, Juanita, I’m not telling you to keep secrets from anybody, just to—” He was about to say “use good judgment,” but Juanita cut him off in mid-phrase.
“Well, I should hope not. Because as much as I love this job, deceit and deception have never been anything I could tolerate, and frankly, I’m surprised that you even ask it. I am as honest and as open as the day is long.”
“Deceit and what? What are you talking about?” Chris knew they were speaking English, but nothing was making sense. “I’m just saying don’t talk about private restaurant business in front of the customers. Does being honest and open mean telling everything you hear to everyone you see?”
“Of course not, Chris. I am discretion itself. I thought we were talking about a conversation I had with my oldest friend that you listened in on.”
“As did everyone else who was in the restaurant at the time.”
“I was whispering.”
“I could hear you in the kitchen!” Chris could feel beads of sweat break out on his forehead. He dug in his pocket for his handkerchief.
Juanita was silent a long moment as she considered what he said. “Okay. I see what you mean. If the whole town knows all the problems we’re having right now, the Dip ’n’ Dine might go belly-up before you have a chance to get adjusted to the way we do things around here.” She smiled and patted his arm again. “But don’t you worry. You are doing fine. You’ll be up to speed in no time.”
“There’s one more thing.”
Juanita had turned to go into the kitchen, but she paused with her hand on the doorknob.
“The comment about the biggest rancher’s youngest daughter was completely out of line.”
Juanita finally had the grace to look embarrassed. “Oh, that, well, I was only—”
“Completely out of line.”
She puffed up again like she was going back on the attack, but she seemed to think better of it this time and only nodded before opening the door and disappearing into the kitchen.
Chris sank onto the back step and gazed out across the brush of the high desert behind the Dip ’n’ Dine. The craggy mountains across the valley were already beginning to stretch blue shadows across the desert floor. It was beautiful in its own austere way and one of the things that had made him fall in love with Last Chance the first time he saw it. But it had never occurred to him that people tempered by the harsh and unforgiving landscape might be just a bit inflexible themselves. What had he gotten himself into? It had taken every dime of the modest inheritance his grandparents had left him, plus every dime he had been able to save, to buy this place. He was just allowing himself to wonder for the first time if he may have made a mistake, ranchers’ beautiful daughters notwithstanding, when the back door opened again and Juanita stuck her head out for one last observation.
“Although I have to say, Chris, eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves. Just a word to the wise.”
2
You know, I like this cute little car.” Elizabeth slid into the passenger side of the compact Ford and snapped her seat belt. “It suits you.”
“I think so too.” Sarah waved at the driver of a passing extended cab pickup and pulled out onto the road. “I’m done hauling horses, and as long as they keep the road to the ranch house graded, this will get me anywhere I need to go.”
“You’re not planning on living at the ranch after school starts, are you?”
“Nope. I’m a town girl now. There’s not a lot to choose from here, but there are a couple places I’m looking at this afternoon. Want to come?”
“I thought you might come live with me. You practically lived with me anyway your senior year of high school, and we got along fine. And think of the money you’ll be able to save.”
“I loved staying with you in high school.” Sarah glanced at her grandmother and smiled. “I got to have a real senior year that way. But I’m all grown up now. I need my own space.”
“I don’t know what you think you’ll be doing at your place that you couldn’t do at mine.” Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I understand all this need for your ‘own space.’”
“Says the lady who hotfooted it to town the minute Mom took over the kitchen at the ranch.” Sarah grinned. “Face it, Gran. I got a lot more than my middle name from you, and there you have it.”
“Well, I’m not sure you’ll find that an unmixed blessing, but if you think you’re at all like me, I couldn’t be more pleased.”
“I have an appointment to see a place in about five minutes.” Sarah slowed as she reached Elizabeth’s house. “Do you want me to drop you off, or would you like to come?”
“Oh, I’d love to come. I hope it’s nearby.”
“This close enough?” Sarah came to a stop two doors down.
“Really? The Carter house? I knew his kids were fixing it up, but I thought it was to sell. Are you buying something?”
“I wish. No, they decided to hold on to it awhile to see if the market improves. Meanwhile, they’re offering it for rent. Let’s go see.”
“Oh my. There’s no carpeting.” Elizabeth stepped through the door that Mike Carter held open for her.
“Nope.” He looked around in satisfaction. “Can you believe it? We took up that dark yellow shag and found hardwood underneath. We sanded and refinished the floors all through the house.”
“You’ll need a lot of rugs just to keep the noise down.” Elizabeth looked uncertain as their footsteps reverberated through the house.
“Well, I love it. And rugs won’t be a problem.” Sarah headed toward the kitchen.
“I would’ve liked to have done a lot more in here, but we didn’t want to price it completely out of the market here in Last Chance.” Mike followed her. “We did put in new sinks and a dishwasher, though. And the stove and refrigerator are new.”
A quick tour of the two bedrooms and the single bath with new fixtures brought them back to the living room.
“And the fireplace works, of course?”
“Yep, draws like a champ.” Mike looked around. It was clear he saw the refurbished little house as a work of art.
Sarah had to agree. “I love it. When can I move in?”
“I have the lease there on the kitchen counter. Let’s get it signed and I’ll hand the keys over now.”
“Look at this!” Sarah held her key chain up and jangled it. “My very own key to my very own house.”
She placed another key on Elizabeth’s kitchen table. “And you, madam, may keep the spare key.”
Elizabeth turned from the refrigerator holding a pitcher of iced tea. “That’s a good idea. Hang it on the hook by the door, would you, honey? And while you’re up, get a couple glasses.”
Sarah did as she was bid. “And since we’re talking keys, I think it would be a good idea if I had one of yours.”
“Why?”
“Just in case. You never know. If you needed help in the middle of the night, I could come. Which reminds me, I brought you something.” She reached for the bag she had brought in with her and handed it to her grandmother.
“What is this?” Elizabeth pulled a box from the plastic bag.
“It’s a new phone to put by your bed.”
“I have a phone by my bed and it works just fine.”
“And it’s worked just fine since the Nixon administration. There have been a few improvements to the system made since then.”
“What else do I need? It rings; I answer it. I dial; someone else answers. That’s what phones are supposed to do.”
“But look at this.” Sarah took the box and opened it. “This has speed dial. One button and you get 9-1-1. One button and you get me. You can program other numbers in too. And look, it even has voice mail.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake. What is the big hurry? I can dial seven numbers almost as fast as you can push a button or two.”
“Because, dear Gran, I’m trying to make it easier for you to stay right here where you want to be.” Sarah put both hands on her grandmother’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I shouldn’t say this, but I heard Mom and Dad talking about whether you should be living by yourself. They think it might be time for you to move back to the ranch.”
“Oh, they do, do they?” Elizabeth’s blue eyes shot sparks. “And do I have any say in this, or were they just going to come down and toss me in the back of the truck?”
“Don’t get all upset.” Sarah kissed her grandmother on the forehead. “It was just a conversation. No one is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But you have to admit, knowing I could get here in two minutes flat will certainly help put their minds at ease.”
“Is that why you took the Carter house? So you could babysit me?”
“No, Gran, I took it because it is hands-down the cutest house in Last Chance. The fact that you live two doors down is the cherry on top. After all, you’re my BFF.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” Elizabeth still didn’t look happy.
Sarah laughed and gave her a hug. “It means we’re best friends forever.”
Elizabeth shook her head and looked in the box. “Black? At least the pink one in my bedroom goes with the bedspread.”
Sarah took the package from her and extracted the phone so her grandmother could see it better. “It’s the function that’s important, Gran, not the color. All the new phones are black. See how sleek and modern it looks?”
“Mmm-hmm, nothing says modern like a black phone.”
“And look. It’s cordless.” Sarah tried to keep her voice cheerful. When Gran got her heels dug in, moving sunrise could be easier. “You can put the receiver right there on the table next to your recliner and never have to budge when the phone rings.”
Elizabeth didn’t look convinced, but she did take the receiver and hold it to her ear. “I guess it’s comfortable enough. And light.”
Sarah saw her advantage and pressed it. “And my number’s not the only one you can program in. You’ll be able to reach the ranch, the church, and any of your friends by pressing a button or two. Just think, you can call Ray and Lainie in Santa Fe without having to hunt up your address book. Just punch two buttons.”
Elizabeth sighed and got to her feet. “Well, let’s go plug it in and see how it works. But you’re sure it doesn’t come in pink?”
Chris turned off the neon Dip ’n’ Dine sign and returned Juanita’s wave as she got into her car and drove away. It had been one long day. He wandered into the kitchen where Carlos was getting ready to give the floor a final scrub.
“You can leave that, Carlos. I’ll do it before I go.”
“It’s no problem, boss.” Carlos went right on filling his bucket. “I just scrub my way out the back door. Be done in no time.”
Chris tied on an apron. “I’ll get it for you tonight. I feel like doing some cooking. It relaxes me.”
Carlos looked at him as if he had just said he was going to burn the place down. “Here? In my kitchen?”
“Yep. That little electric stove at my house doesn’t do it for me.”
“But I’ve already cleaned the stove.”
“I know how to clean a stove.”
Carlos did not look happy. At all. “No one cleans my kitchen but me. Not even the crew that does the dining room sets foot in here. You know that.”
Chris opened the refrigerator and removed some chicken breasts and mushrooms. He put them on the counter and turned to face his fuming cook. “Look, I know how to clean a kitchen. I’ve cleaned more kitchens than you can count for some of the fussiest chefs on the planet. And believe it or not, since I do own this restaurant, I’m pretty particular about how clean it is myself. You’ll never know I was here. Now, go on home. See you tomorrow.”
Carlos glared at his bucket, at his stove, and finally at Chris. Grabbing his hat off a hook by the door, he yanked the back door open. “Maybe.”
Chris ignored the resounding slam of the back door. Counting Carlos’s earlier warning, Pete’s show of solidarity, Juanita’s two offers to quit when he talked to her this morning, and now this, he’d had five threatened resignations since breakfast. And that was just today. He slipped his smartphone into the dock on his desk and adjusted the sound. As the soft wailing of a saxophone insinuated itself throughout the kitchen, he felt his shoulders ease. He had a feeling that if his love of cool jazz were known, he’d be considered even more of an outsider than he already was, but an evening in the kitchen with Davis or Brubeck relaxed him in a way nothing else did. He unrolled his own set of knives and got to work.
It was nearly 10:30 before he turned off his music and put his phone back in his pocket. Foil freezer containers were stacked on the counter, ready for him to take home. That was the trouble with getting creative in the kitchen. It was impossible to cook only enough for one. But the individual containers would provide him with fallback meals on those days when he didn’t feel like cooking. And truthfully, it was hard to get excited about cooking on the little four-burner electric stove in the mobile home Fayette had sold him when he bought the Dip ’n’ Dine from her.
He stood in the doorway and gave the kitchen one last look. If Carlos found any fault with this kitchen in the morning, it would be because he felt he had to make a point, not because anything was wrong. Chris sighed, picked up his food, and let himself out the back door.
Last Chance was absolutely silent. He could have walked down the center of Main Street all the way home for all the traffic there was. He had been told that the High Lonesome Saloon across the road had once been open late at night, but it had been closed since before he arrived in Last Chance. Now it sat abandoned and boarded up in its weed-infested parking lot. Chris got into his Jeep and pulled out onto the deserted street to head home. It was at times like this, when he was through with work and away from the Dip ’n’ Dine, that he missed having someone to talk to. Unbidden, the image of Sarah Cooley surfaced in his mind. She sure was a little bitty thing. If she wasn’t going to be teaching second graders, there was a good chance some of her students might be nearly as tall as she was. He winced as he remembered how she took him down. Size would never stop Sarah Cooley from taking charge.
He parked his car in the carport attached to the yellow-and-white singlewide, gathered his food, and went inside. It was way too frilly for his taste. Fayette had lived there for nearly twenty years, and it looked every bit a woman’s home. One of these days, when
he had time, he’d have to change some things.
The fifteen hours or so he had just spent at the Dip ’n’ Dine settled on his back and shoulders like a lead jacket. He didn’t even feel like heating up one of the meals he had brought home with him. He’d just scramble a few eggs and hit the sack. That alarm clock was going to go off awfully early.
Settling himself at the kitchen table with his plate of eggs, Chris bowed his head. Even after a day like this one, he still had a lot to be thankful for. He had almost finished his quick meal when his phone rang. He took it from his pocket and frowned at the screen. This was awfully late for a phone call, even from his sister. He hoped nothing was wrong.
“Hi, Uncle Chris!” The voice chirping in his ear made him smile.
“Olivia! What are you doing up?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s 11:00.”
“Oh, Mom lets me stay up as long as I want in the summer. I hardly ever go to bed before midnight.”
“So is everything okay?” Chris couldn’t shake the feeling that all was not as it should be. “Where’s your mom?”
If a seven-year-old’s voice could drip with contempt, Olivia’s did. “Oh, she’s out with Jase. Where else?”
“You’re with a babysitter, right?” Even as Chris asked the question, he knew the answer was a no-brainer for most parents yet anything but that for his sister.
“A babysitter? What for? I’m no baby.” Her words were more confident than her tone.
“You’re not by yourself.” His statement was more to reassure himself than to ask for clarification.
“Yes, but don’t worry, I know the rules. Keep the door locked. Don’t open it for anyone. Don’t use the stove. And if anyone tries to break in, call 9-1-1.”
Chris took a deep breath. Kaitlyn had been only seventeen when Olivia was born, and he had tried to cut her some slack as she learned parenting on the fly, but this went beyond careless parenting well into child endangerment. Their parents had never been much help. Consumed with their own careers, they had always depended on Chris to look after Kaitlyn. He was only four years older than her, but he had tried. And he had to admit he had come up short.
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