by Myrna Temte
Without intentionally trying to eavesdrop, she couldn’t help hearing Janie’s flirtatious remarks to Cade. J.D. gave Janie little, if any, encouragement as far as Julia could tell. In fact, the long-suffering expressions crossing J.D.’s face were actually pretty funny. Reed Austin simply looked disgruntled.
When it was time for her own lunch break, Julia walked into the kitchen and asked Virgil to make her a club sandwich. She prepared herself a place setting at the employees’ table and set Mike’s percentage of her tips beside his plate.
“Hey, thanks,” Mike said.
“You earned it,” she told the boy. “You did a good job for me today.”
Melissa came out of her office when Mike went home, poured herself a glass of iced tea and sat down across from Julia. “It was nice of you to say that to Mike.”
Julia smiled. “He’s a good kid and he works hard.”
“I’ve had waitresses who resented sharing their tips with the busboys.”
“I’ve worked with people like that, too,” Julia agreed. “I always thought the busboys were pretty clever at getting their revenge. I’d rather make allies out of them and give the customers great service. That way we all make more money.”
Melissa laid a clipboard on the table, then glanced around the kitchen. “We need to talk about the schedule for next week. Where’s Janie?”
“She’s got a couple of customers at the lunch counter.”
“Yeah,” Virgil put in with a laugh. “And one of ’em is that wrangler she’s so sweet on. Probably slobberin’ all over him by now.”
Melissa groaned and gave Julia a questioning look. “Is she making a pest of herself again?”
“Well, um…” Julia hesitated. She didn’t want to lie, but she hated being drawn into the role of tattletale. “I suppose you’d have to ask him.”
Pushing back her chair, Melissa headed for the swinging door, muttering to herself. “If she doesn’t give that poor man room to breathe, I’m going to have to fire her.”
Julia scowled at Virgil. He backed away from the prep counter, one hand clutched to his chest.
“Don’t look at me that way,” he protested. “It ain’t my fault that little gal’s actin’ like a floozy.”
Julia’s temper flared. She usually went out of her way to get along with her co-workers, but for Virgil, she was happy to make an exception. She’d pegged him as a troublemaker from the moment she met him.
Besides, she liked Janie. They’d made a good team during the shifts they had worked together. Virgil was another story. He put out decent meals, but when it came to gossip, he was far worse and far meaner than Lily Mae Wheeler even thought about being. Julia didn’t plan to let him think he could dish out whatever guff he wanted and get away with it when she was around.
“She’s just flirting,” Julia said. “And you know, Virgil, I think I’m beginning to understand why Melissa closed in her kitchen when she remodeled this place. I’d do the same thing if I had a big blabbermouth like you on my payroll.”
“Blabbermouth!”
A crimson flush surged up Virgil’s neck, covered his whole face and continued right over the top of his bald head. While he was still sputtering in outrage, Julia went back out to finish setting up for dinner. Melissa and Janie were huddled back in the servers’ station, talking in heated whispers. J. D. Cade and Reed Austin still sat at the counter, looking as if they were having an intense discussion of their own.
Julia resumed resetting the tables. She thought wistfully of Mama Rosa’s Cantina, the Mexican restaurant she’d worked in for the past four summers. She knew and enjoyed everyone on the staff, knew the routines and where everything was stored, even knew most of the customers. It would have been so much easier to work there again this year.
Well, easier wasn’t always better, she decided, pausing to count how many tables she had left. She wouldn’t get to know her father if she’d stayed in Colorado, or her grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins. She wouldn’t learn anything more about her Indian heritage. She wouldn’t have met Sam Brightwater.
Not that he was any great prize, the big grump. He’d left her a great tip today, but she would much rather have his respect and friendship than his money. With Virgil in the kitchen and Sam out front as a customer, it looked as if she was liable to be in for one long, hot, uncomfortable summer.
Five
Life became hectic but fascinating for Julia during the next two weeks. Between her work with the children in the reading program and the social functions she attended with her family, it seemed as if she must have met everyone living at Laughing Horse. Her job at the Hip Hop brought her into contact with a large number of Whitehorn residents, as well, and her talent for remembering names was taxed to the limit.
An open, friendly person by nature, she’d always found that most people responded to her in kind. Montanans, white and Indian alike, were no exception. It wasn’t long before someone greeted her by name nearly everywhere she went.
She loved having so many relatives close at hand. Her friendships with Maggie Hawk and Janie Carson steadily grew deeper. Even Virgil came around and admitted that when he’d complained about her calling him a blabbermouth, his pals all had a good laugh and told him that he was a big blabbermouth.
There was only one gloomy spot on her summer’s horizon, and it had Sam Brightwater’s name all over it. Honestly, the wretched man acted as if her very existence was a personal affront to him. She simply did not understand his attitude, and it didn’t take long to get pretty darn tired of it.
To make matters worse, he was such a frequent customer at the Hip Hop, she usually ended up waiting on him at least every other day. He infuriated her each time. Oh, he still left her great tips. He was always polite. And he treated her with such cool formality, she wanted to hit him over the head with a hammer—until a Friday morning in mid-July.
She had already taken the kids in the summer reading program to the Indian school’s library, and now they’d come outside to sit on the lawn, enjoy the sunshine and talk about the books they’d read since Wednesday. Some of the kids had already warmed up to her; others still ducked their heads and hunched their shoulders in excruciating shyness whenever she called on them.
She had tried games and telling the kids about herself to help the bashful ones feel more at ease with her. She had brought in her grandmother, her father and Maggie and Jackson Hawk to vouch for her. She’d even tried leaving the students who were obviously uncomfortable with her alone for a few days, hoping they would come to her.
No such luck. Especially with the three little Two Moons boys and the two little Medicine Bear girls. Both families were headed by hardworking single mothers, and all five children were having a difficult time with reading in school. If these bashful darlings would work with her instead of against her, Julia knew she could help them catch up.
Unfortunately, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, they huddled together in a tight cluster at the far edge of the group and watched her with huge, wary eyes, as if they expected her to lash out at them at any moment. Today was no exception. Julia desperately wanted to cuddle them all close and ask them who or what had frightened them. Reminding herself that most good things take time, she just smiled at them, then called on Emma Weasel Tail, a bright-eyed, rambunctious girl who raised her hand whenever Julia asked a question.
Suddenly, Bobby Two Moons, jumped to his feet and waved both arms over his head. “Mr. Sam! Mr. Sam!” he yelled, bouncing around in excitement. “How are you, Mr. Sam?”
Julia looked up in surprise at the outburst, in time to see Sam Brightwater hesitate in the middle of the path that led around the far side of the building to the new elementary-school wing. As usual, he wore jeans, work boots, a blue, sleeveless work shirt and his yellow hard hat. He raised one hand in a greeting, then started to retreat to the work site again.
In an instant, the three Two Moons boys and two Medicine Bear girls ran after him, calling, “Mr. Sam, wait! Please,
wait, Mr. Sam!”
He turned back at the sound of their voices and held out both palms as if to warn them away from something dangerous. Julia couldn’t hear what he said to them, but whatever it was, the kids didn’t even slow down. They simply…mobbed him.
Before Julia could get out a coherent protest, the rest of her class took off to join in the fun. Horrified, she ran after them. She found Sam sitting on the ground in the middle of a writhing mass of arms, legs and bodies, laughing as he fended off exuberant attacks amid shouts of “Dog pile!” The kids climbed on him, jumped on him, hugged him for all they were worth, and she could tell that Sam loved every single second of it.
If not for the arrival of the children’s parents, Julia supposed she would have stood there gaping at Sam and the kids until they were all exhausted. The longer the horseplay went on, the more convinced she became that the old grump she’d known until this moment was nothing less than a fraud. This guy, the one with the laughing, shrieking children tumbling all over him, was the real Sam Brightwater.
He was funny. He was delightful. He was…sexy.
Rose Weasel Tail arrived and ended the free-for-all by dragging her daughter Emma out from somewhere near the bottom of the pile.
“You crazy kids,” she said. “Let poor Sam up for air, will ya? And you, Sam Brightwater, are just as crazy as these kids.”
Rose went on scolding as she sorted out the bodies, but there was no real heat in her voice, and Julia thought she detected a gleam of amusement, even affection, in the other woman’s eyes when she talked to Sam.
“Ya gotta watch out for that big lug,” Rose said, rolling her eyes for Julia’s benefit. “He’s like a kid magnet. They all think he’s a walkin’ invitation to roughhouse, and he always lets ’em get away with it. See ya next week, hon.”
Julia turned back in time to see Sam climb to his feet and brush the dirt and grass off his shirt and jeans. Bobby Two Moons ran around wearing Sam’s hard hat, which covered two-thirds of the boy’s face. Sam’s braid had lost its tie. While he had a ridge of sweaty, matted hair where his hat normally rested, the thick strands that hung past his broad, heavily muscled shoulders were shiny and black as his eyes.
His eyes met hers and she suddenly glimpsed in their depths the same wariness she’d seen in the Two Moons and Medicine Bear children’s eyes. Her heart turned over at the thought of a scared little boy inside this big, rough, forbidding man. That image evaporated in the next instant, banished by the return of Sam’s normally gruff manner.
Without so much as a nod to her, he warned the children away from the construction site, retrieved his hard hat and disappeared around the corner of the building. Disappointed and unsettled, Julia herded her class back out front to wait for the rest of the parents to arrive. When the last child left, she went into Whitehorn to work a shift at the Hip Hop.
With a summer weekend about to start, the café was even busier than usual. Sam and his crew came in toward the end of the noon rush. It was Julia’s turn to wait on them, and she did so with a growing sense of frustration.
Darn Sam Brightwater, he was so unfair. Okay, for whatever reason, he didn’t like her. She wasn’t used to that, but she could cope with it. It didn’t necessarily mean that she couldn’t like him. After all, any man who could play with a bunch of giggly little kids couldn’t be all bad. And just because he didn’t want to be her friend, there was no real reason they couldn’t at least act friendly. Was there?
She turned various ideas about dealing with him over in her mind while filling salt and pepper shakers during a mid-afternoon lull. A cowboy came in and took a seat at the counter. He tipped back his hat, revealing a shock of straight, shaggy blond hair, a pair of blue eyes in a young, boy-next-door sort of face.
“Afternoon, ma’am.” He gave her a grin as broad as his drawl. “Janie Carson around?”
“She’s taking a break right now.” Julia grinned back at him. Despite his brawnier build, the similarities in his appearance and Janie’s were impossible to miss. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to her, would you?”
“Guilty as charged.” Chuckling, he offered his hand across the counter. “Name’s Dale Carson, ma’am. I’m Janie’s brother.”
Julia introduced herself. “I’ll go tell her you’re here.”
The kitchen door swung open and Janie hurried out to the counter. “No need, Julia. I’d know my baby brother’s voice anywhere.”
Dale’s neck and ears reddened. “Aw, Janie, you don’t have to call me that anymore. I’m only a year younger than you.”
“That still makes you my baby brother,” Janie said. “And why haven’t I heard from you lately? You know I’ve been worried about you ever since all that weird stuff started out there at that Kincaid place.”
“What weird stuff?” Julia asked.
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” Janie said. “They’ve had fires and accidents and cows killed and mutilated, and—”
“Whoa, sis, enough already,” Dale protested.
Ignoring him, Janie went on. “Why, Dale and I were both almost killed by a crazy bull out there. Dale even got gored in the leg, and if it hadn’t been for J.D. saving him, he would’ve died for sure.”
Dale grabbed his sister’s hand and squeezed it. “Nobody wants to hear about that mess anymore, Janie. How about gettin’ me some coffee and a piece of that strawberry-rhubarb pie before I starve to death?”
“I swear, all you ever think about is food.” Janie grabbed the brim of his cowboy hat and gave it a yank on her way to the pie case.
Dale yelped in protest, then thumbed his hat back into place and rolled his eyes in such obvious exasperation, Julia laughed out loud. He grinned at her and held up his coffee cup in a silent plea. She filled it for him and one for herself.
Janie plopped a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of Dale’s pie and set it in front of him. Resting one hip against the counter, she stuck her hands into her apron pocket and jingled the coins she’d already earned in tips, while Dale shoveled the first bite into his mouth. He closed his eyes and slowly moved his head back and forth as if the taste gave him intense pleasure.
“So, how’s your leg now?” Janie asked.
“Comin’ along fine.”
“Sheriff Hensley ever find out who’s been causing all the trouble?”
Dale washed down another bite of pie with a swallow of coffee. “Not that I know of. ‘Course, he’s not doing the investigation himself. He’s got that new deputy workin’ on it.”
“You mean Reed? Reed Austin?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy. You know him?”
Janie shrugged. “He comes in here all the time. He talks to J.D. a lot.”
Julia smiled to herself. If Janie thought that was the only reason Deputy Austin came into the Hip Hop, she was sadly mistaken. Every time the poor man came in, he could hardly take his eyes off Janie.
“Have you heard him say anything about his progress?” Dale sat forward and propped his elbows on the counter. “With the investigation, I mean?”
“No. Why? Haven’t you heard anything?”
“Not a word. Of course, if he knew anything, he’d never talk about it to me.”
“I’d like to know why not,” Janie said.
“He probably thinks I’m a suspect,” Dale said.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you were working out there a long time before any of the bad stuff happened.”
“It’s nothin’ personal, sis. Everybody’s a suspect right now. That’s just the way things are.” Dale pushed away his empty plate, patted his belly and sighed. “Lord, but that’s good. Kinda reminds me of Mama’s.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Janie said. “Why don’t you just ask Reed what’s going on?”
“You know him a lot better than I do,” Dale retorted. “Why don’t you ask him for me?”
Now it was Janie’s turn to roll her eyes. Julia wondered if these two knew how lucky they were to have a sibling, even an ex
asperating one. Probably not. Most people didn’t value family members nearly enough until they were threatened with the loss of a loved one.
“I just wait on him sometimes, Dale. It’s not like we’re great friends, or anything.”
“All I meant was, if you ever did hear him say anything about the case, it wouldn’t hurt for you to pass it along, you know?”
The bell over the door jingled. Another cowboy strode up to the counter and stood beside Dale’s stool. He was taller than Dale, but leaner, and probably ten years older, if the worry lines around his eyes and across his forehead were an accurate measure. Dale introduced him to Julia as Rand Harding, his boss and the foreman of the Kincaid Ranch.
Rand tipped his hat to her. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. Wish I could stay and visit, but I’ve got to get back to the ranch. Ready to go, Dale?”
“You bet.” After scrambling to his feet, Dale dropped several bills on the counter, leaned across and kissed Janie’s cheek. “See ya later, sis.”
“You stay in touch and be careful,” she called after him as he followed Rand out of the restaurant. If he heard, he gave her no acknowledgment. Janie sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do about Dale.”
“Why do you have to do anything about him?” Julia said mildly. “He looks like a big boy to me.”
“I suppose you’re right. I guess it’s just the big-sister syndrome, you know? Always looking out for my baby brother.”
“His boss seems nice.”
“Oh, Rand is great.” Janie scooped up Dale’s dirty dishes and set them in a plastic tub under the counter. “And let me tell you how he met his wife. It was so romantic.”
“You see romance everywhere, Janie,” Julia said.
“So? What’s wrong with that? I figure if I’m stuck here waitressing, I might as well enjoy it.”
“What would you rather be doing?”
“I’d go back to college in a heartbeat if I could afford it. Two more years and I would’ve had my teaching certificate.”