“She was the big one in the band, right?”
Colin bristled. “If by big you mean the pretty one, yeah.”
“I loved them. So, anyway, do you think I can borrow the money?”
“What about going on unemployment? Didn’t we talk about that?” He hated that he had to say that to her. No one in his life should be on unemployment. But Nikki just didn’t seem to be able to stick with a job for more than a few weeks. She’d never been able to.
“I checked. Unemployment will pay me $200 a month. There’s no way in hell anyone can live on that.”
He stayed quiet and pressed his thumb into the kitten’s forehead. She purred so loud she sounded like a tin can full of quarters.
“So, come on. Can I borrow it?”
Borrow. As if she’d ever paid back a dime in her whole life.
As if he needed her to. He didn’t. But a little gratitude would go a long way. “Fine. I’m at work, though. I’ll get it to you later today.”
“You mean you’ll come over here?”
The hope in her voice drove a nail of heat into his already painful eye. He couldn’t go to her place and not lose his cool. She knew that. “Meet me at the Golden Spike at five.”
“You’ll buy me a drink?”
“What are big brothers for?” Big brothers were for pushing their little sisters, for making them do more, be more. This was his fault for not encouraging her to do better in the past. For not making her be the person he knew she was.
Colin sat in his chair and lifted Asiago to eye level. Such a cute little thing. A bright spot in the day. Just like Molly had been.
“Sweet!”
With a click, Nikki hung up, leaving Colin to wonder as he always did what more he could have done. And what more he would have to do.
Asiago opened her mouth and again nothing but a squeak came out.
“Yeah, well.” Colin rubbed her forehead once more. “Sometimes the words just don’t come out right, huh?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
You love me like a rock
You got me on a roll,
I never saw you comin’
But I got you in my soul.
Molly and Adele perched on the edge of the rickety old stage in the saloon, a perfect place to sing and play. In fact, it was where Molly had learned to play guitar, she remembered. There used to always be someone propped there, shaping chords and singing songs. It felt like coming home, sitting next to her sister in the not-busy bar. Three guys playing cards in the corner ignored them completely, and Norma – the one who’d been draped in Christmas lights the night before – was the only one sitting on a barstool. She still had the lights around her neck, but they remained unlit. She herself seemed quite lit and tossed back shots with alarming alacrity.
Adele had asked Molly to listen to a song she was finishing, one that was due to her producer in Nashville by the end of the week. Adele had looked almost nervous when she’d asked her, and that had broken down Molly’s defenses. It had only taken Adele less than ten minutes to convince Molly to sing along on the chorus. Ten more minutes and Molly was adding a second line to the third verse. It felt good, being with her sister like this, drawn back into that sisterhood of music, that relationship made of sweet harmonies and rhymes.
Adele strummed through the chorus one more time, quickly. “There’s something not quite right.” She rubbed her nose.
Oh, Molly had missed watching Adele think. The way her eyes unfocused, staring softly into the distance. Their mother had had that look when she was writing songs, too. That’s where Adele got it from, the love of putting words and music together. Adele and Katie Darling, as close as any mother and daughter could be. Molly, always closer to her father, had just been the lead voice, and only because they’d made her.
“It’s perfect. There’s nothing missing.”
Adele glanced at her quickly. “Something. I’m telling you.”
Molly leaned back and stretched, feeling the rough wooden stage under her fingertips. “It’s a country song about love. You don’t need more than a guy, a girl, and a misunderstanding solved by a kiss.”
“It’d be nice if life worked like that. Although I do think many things can be solved by a kiss.” Adele’s cheeks went prettily pink.
“You have it bad.”
“I do.”
“Are all these songs about him, then?”
“What else am I supposed to write about? He’s all I think about. It’s ridiculous.” Adele feigned a deep interest in the G string’s tuner key. “I did have to write a heartbreak song for Jason Aldean, and he sent it back saying it was way too chipper and I should send it to Taylor Swift.”
“Ouch.”
“Right?”
The song they’d just been singing was stuck in Molly’s head now. It was catchy. It would do well. “So, are you going to keep writing songs, even though you’re not in Nashville anymore?”
“They seem to be letting me do the job remotely. I guess I have some credit finally built up in that town.”
“Finally. And now you’ve got the media trailing you again, huh?”
Adele’s popularity had been enjoying a resurgence since a California lifestyle magazine had printed a picture of her and Nate singing to each other in the bar. The tabloids had jumped on it, and now she and Nate were also known as the Darling Lovebirds, Adele had told Molly. I haven’t bought a single copy of any of those magazines – I wouldn’t – but people keep tagging me on Facebook with their posts.
No one tagged Molly in Facebook posts.
“Yeah, they’ve been around. I guess it’s good for business. You know,” Adele said slowly, “if you stayed, we could do more of this.”
Molly looked down at her cowboy boots. She hadn’t worn them in years, but she’d packed them to come back here. They still fit right. “How do you like living with Nate?”
“Way to change the subject. What did you think about my idea to split the property?”
Molly had hoped that the subject wouldn’t come up for a few days, till after the new year, maybe. She’d hoped she would have an answer prepared. And she didn’t.
Adele seemed to take her pause as a bad thing. “I know it’s not fair, me wanting to keep the saloon open. I know the two of you probably want to sell. But there are three properties, right? The saloon, the café and the hotel. If we divvied them up, we could each do what we wanted with them. And I know me taking over the saloon, which was the only thing up and running, is actually worth more money, so I’d be willing to adjust the terms for that…”
“Oh, stop. We think it’s fine to do it that way.”
Adele jerked as if someone had tugged her upwards. “You talked to Lana?”
Molly kept her eyes on the toe of her boot. “Yeah.”
“When?”
“Before I came.”
“What did she say?” Adele’s tone was ragged.
This. This was what Molly wasn’t going to do. She wasn’t going to be the one in the middle, not anymore. She wasn’t responsible for making either of her sisters happy. Not anymore. This was the time she was going to think about herself. For once. But she supposed she did owe Adele a little bit more in the way of explanation. “She said it was fine if you want the saloon.” What Lana had actually said was, Are you serious? Why she thinks I’d want any part of that property is beyond me. She can do whatever the hell she wants to.
“Seriously? Does she want the hotel? I thought the café would be perfect for you, since you’re a nutritionist, and you know about food, and you used to love being there with Uncle Hugh –”
“Slow down there, tiger.”
“Does she need money?”
“I don’t know.” That was the truth.
Adele propped the guitar against the edge of the stage and turned to sit facing Molly. “And you told me on the phone you need money. Are you okay?”
She didn’t want to go into this. Not now, not here, in the place that was making her feel at home in
an almost startling way. “I’m thinking about things, okay?”
“Let me help.” Adele’s face was all concern, her brows drawing together, her eyes worried.
“There’s nothing for you to fix. I’m okay. Lana is okay.”
“There’s nothing I want more than for you to stay.”
The thing Adele didn’t say, that she also wanted Lana to come home, hung in the air between them as clearly as if she’d said it.
“I know.”
“But…” Adele bit her bottom lip briefly, and Molly felt it – she knew what was coming. “What about your money?”
And there it was. Molly drew her legs up under her to sit cross-legged. She folded her arms. She’d had money, yes. All three girls, when the band broke up, had split with the same amount of cash. Molly knew Adele had made good investments. She also knew that Lana had blown her entire wad within the first six months. She herself had held on tightly to the money, waiting for exactly the right thing to come along to invest in. And it had. She’d let Rick persuade her that the kelp health smoothie would be the future wave of healthy eating. It had science behind it. It was actual vitamins and minerals, in an almost undetectable flavorless liquid. It had been the first thing Rick had bullied her about. Health made easy. Even you could lose weight on this stuff.
Her daddy would’ve been disappointed in her. He’d always said that if you bought into something (or someone) like that, you deserved what you got.
So yeah, she had deserved to lose all that cash. “I invested in a boyfriend’s stupid pyramid scheme.”
“Oh, no.”
“Lost it all.”
Adele put her hand over Molly’s. “How’s your heart?”
Molly looked at her fingertips, which were dented from the guitar strings. Her calluses were long gone. “Fine. Mostly.” Rick had been exciting, with his big plans and charisma. She’d loved him, and she’d had dreams of their future. Then he’d gotten verbally mean. She’d stuck around way longer than she should have. It had all made her feel so stupid.
“Do you really have to go back to the ship?”
She still hadn’t told Adele she’d quit. Maybe she hadn’t really admitted it to herself. And the last thing Molly wanted to think about was getting back on board any sea vessel, even a new one. The funny thing was that she’d always been prone to seasickness. She’d drugged herself with non-drowsy Dramamine during the day, and slept fitfully at night. She never got to go into town when the boat docked, because she’d been so busy with appointments. She’d been to a hundred dream destinations without ever getting a chance to see the sights. The benefits had been good, that was true. Free room and board. The food wasn’t even that bad. She had helped co-workers cobble together meals that wouldn’t kill them, nothing like the luxurious, fattening fare of the regular passengers. There was no lobster or all-you-can-eat buffet for staff, although there was always plain chicken and good salad. When they’d hit more tropical destinations, there was beautiful fresh fruit. It didn’t make up for the loneliness. New crew members came aboard and left, kids taking a break between college years. At thirty-one, Molly had sometimes been the oldest one in the staff dining room, something she had tried not to think about too hard.
“More. I demand more time with you.”
Adele, demanding. She’d always demanded and bossed and pushed (so had Lana, come to think of it). But it was done in love, and Molly knew that. “Demand all you want. I’m tougher now. I can stand up to you.” She didn’t mention that she’d been googling nutritionist jobs in California. She’d even researched nutritionist jobs in Darling Bay. She’d come up with a big fat zero, of course. No surprise there. Molly smiled and leaned sideways to nudge her sister’s shoulder with her own. “Besides, I went in there already. Into the café. It’s a complete nightmare.”
“You did? Today?”
“Last night. Well, really early this morning.”
“But the power isn’t on.”
Molly laughed. “And that was terrifying. I used my cell-phone light to look around.”
“You shouldn’t have gone there in the dark. I should’ve gone with you. Oh, my God, you could have died. There are probably three or four different ways to perish painfully in there.”
“Are there rats? Because I swear I heard something that sounded like rodents in the walls or under the appliances.”
Adele blew a breath of air out through her lips. “I have no idea. I went in there once to look around, tripped over some piece of metal on the ground and hit my head on the old stainless-steel sink. I got a small cut, and pretty much decided I was going to die from some terrible disease. I haven’t been back since. I guess I’m trying to pretend it doesn’t exist.”
“You haven’t heard the best part yet. The local sheriff thought I was a burglar, and I was briefly arrested. It’s just my fast talking and sexy Kermit pajamas that got you out of having to bail me out this morning.”
“Colin McMurtry?”
“I threw my cell phone at him in the dark. He has a bruise over his eye today.”
Adele nodded while looking over Molly’s shoulder. “I can see that.”
Molly’s throat clenched. “No.”
“He just walked in.”
“Oh, my God.”
Adele narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Wait, your back is to him. How did you know he has a bruise? It wouldn’t have come up that fast, would it?”
Her sister never missed a thing. “Saw it when he pulled me over this morning.”
“Damn, girl. You know how to make an entrance.”
“What? I didn’t get a ticket.”
Adele laughed but Molly stayed frozen, unable to turn around. For a moment, she let herself remember how Colin had looked sitting in her car, water streaming down his face, his eyes so dark the pupils disappeared. Her stomach tensed at the thought.
“See. There are many reasons you should stay. A good-looking man who bruises easily.”
Molly shook her head. “I can buy an apple if that’s what I want.”
“Okay, a man who’s in charge of things. Cops are hot, right? Even if his family is…”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing, really. Don’t you remember his cousins, though? Those four guys who raised hell?”
Molly had a vague memory of thin boys with dirty faces, the kind of boys who had thrown mud clods and sold weed in high school. “What happened to them?”
“All in jail, I think. Along with their dad. Colin’s dad did okay – you know he was the sheriff before him?”
It sounded familiar. “Kind of.” She wanted to look – she wanted so badly to look behind her.
“Anyway. He looks good in uniform.”
Molly couldn’t help it – she twisted her head the slightest bit, shooting the quickest glance she could.
Colin was not in uniform. He wore the same blue denim jacket he’d been wearing early this morning when she’d assaulted him. His dark-brown hair was standing on end as if he’d been dragging his fingers through it. The woman across the small table from him was young. And blonde. And beautiful.
Crap on a biscuit. She turned back to Adele. “I wouldn’t stay in town if you paid me.”
“Okay, so what if I paid you?”
Molly gave an exaggerated sigh and slid lower in her chair. “Stop.”
“Seriously. I could put you on the payroll.”
“I’m not taking your money. Period.”
Adele crossed her arms. “Then I’ll loan you enough to help you open the café.”
“I’m not looking for a new job.” She wasn’t. No way. Maybe if she told herself that long enough, she’d believe herself. “And you’re not going to boss me into it.” She felt the shape of her pocket – that silly plastic Junior Deputy badge dug into her thigh. She liked it. It reminded her she used to be braver. “No more bossing, from anyone.”
“We never bossed you!”
Molly just stared.
“Okay. We bossed you constantly
.”
“Between Dad telling me what to eat, and you making me sing louder and Lana making me do any harebrained scheme she couldn’t talk you into –”
“Come on, Molly.” Adele’s voice was pleading. “I miss you so much.”
“Guilting me will make me feel worse, but it won’t make me stay.” It might.
“Oh, fine. More in a couple of minutes.” Adele stood. “Nate is in the back, I think – I need to get Colin and Nikki drinks.”
Colin was on a date. It made sense, Colin was a handsome man. And of course he’d be dating someone adorable, someone named Nikki. Just one more quick glance. They wouldn’t notice.
Molly craned her head.
They were laughing together, their heads bending close to each other. Then, horrifyingly, Colin caught her looking and gave her a cheeky wink.
Molly gasped and dropped her eyes, mortified.
Wait. Why was she the embarrassed one? How could he do that in front of another woman? How completely and utterly rude. Molly tried to feel a pang of pity for the gorgeous blonde across the table from him but failed miserably.
Yeah.
Heaven help her and her sainted mother forgive her, for one hot second, Molly wished she were the skinny blonde.
CHAPTER NINE
Molly Darling was in the bar.
Colin should have known she would be. Okay, if he had searched his heart, he might’ve been able to admit that it was why he had suggested meeting his sister at the Golden Spike.
He wasn’t going to look at his motivation that closely, though. He would save the scrutiny for her.
Molly Darling – with those curves that went on forever– wasn’t even pretty. She was beyond that. Colin’s father had had a word for a girl like her: a beaut. “What a beaut,” he’d trumpet loudly, turning his head to follow with his eyes the woman they’d just passed on the sidewalk. There had been nothing more embarrassing to Colin, but often, if his father was in uniform, the woman in question wouldn’t seem to mind the comment. She would blush prettily and maybe toss his father a saucy glance. Colin had noticed the same thing happening when he himself was in uniform, of course. Women were more attentive. Waitresses smiled more, filling his cup of coffee more often than anyone else’s. There was something about the badge, it was true. Something it was possible he had profited from – hook-up wise – in the past.
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