Songbird's Call

by Herron, Rachael

  He should shut her down. June in Compliance would do it in a heartbeat.

  But he wouldn’t. Not out of spite.

  He was not Chuck McMurtry.

  “Put the fire out. Get it fixed – really fixed – within fourteen days. If I hear you’ve fired it up even once during business hours, I’ll find a reason to cite you and close you down for a month.”

  “Colin –”

  “The very worst part? You want to know what that is?”

  “What?”

  In that single word, her voice was so sad it broke his heart to hear it. That is, it would have if he’d still had a heart to break, but a man trapped at the bottom of a lake of ice had no heartbeat at all. Not a single thump.

  “I was falling in love with you.”

  She gave a small sound, the edge of a sob. “Colin –”

  “I thought I could trust you. Such a small thing. So easily earned, you know? A guy picks me up off the side of the road when my car breaks down, and I’ll trust him forever. I gave you that trust, and you broke it –” He had to stop and breathe so that his own voice didn’t break in that dead giveaway. “And now I’m taking it back. You can’t have it.” He took a moment to look her up and down. Then, very deliberately, he said, “You don’t deserve it.”

  He waited a beat to see what she’d say.

  She didn’t say a word. Her eyes said it all, but he refused to listen to what they were telling him.

  “I thought you were the brave one,” he said. Jesus, he was taunting her. What kind of an asshole was he? “The voice of your sisters.”

  “I am,” she managed, just barely.

  “Bullshit. If you’d been brave, you would have gone against what she wanted. You would have told me what was happening, the way you promised.”

  “Oh, my God.” Her breath was heavy. Loud. “You are such a bully.”

  Colin didn’t move a muscle, but the word knocked him sideways.

  “This is what you do when you don’t get your way?”

  “No, I don’t –” How had she just turned this upside down?

  He heard her breath catch in her voice. “I understand that I screwed up. But I also told you I didn’t like doing what I was told. You were right about Nikki. And you’re right – I’m not very brave.” Her voice broke. “But you don’t get to boss me around. No one does. I sure as hell am not your mother. I am not trash. I worked through this with one guy already. I’m not going to do it again. If you’re going to act like your extended family, if you’re going to act as low as your father was, get out.”

  The way she was pulling air into her lungs as if oxygen was the thing that gave her strength and purpose, just like the fire that was finally catching behind her – she was marvelous. Gorgeous.

  And he was just a McMurtry.

  He was the wrong person from a long line of people used to being nothing but wrong.

  Trash.

  Like his father. She was absolutely goddamn right.

  Funny, though. He’d told her she didn’t deserve his trust. As Colin left, the heavy door thudding closed behind him, he had the feeling like he didn’t deserve one damn thing, either. Ever again.

  The thought made him want to howl.

  Instead, he floored the Chevelle’s gas pedal, and roared out of the parking lot, then out of the marina area, then out of Darling Bay as fast as a man could make a 450-pony engine go. Maybe if he drove fast enough into the dark he could outrun the thing that made him feel most sick.

  Himself.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Someday Molly would live in a house. In that house, she’d have an entry hall and then a room or two, and then a bedroom so when people knocked on the front door it didn’t sound like they were standing inside her brain.

  Her sister’s voice floated through the hotel door. “Are you okay? You’re usually up by now! What’s going on?”

  Molly opened the drawer of the side table. The hotel had always provided ear plugs for its customers who didn’t want to hear the bands playing late into the night in the saloon, and she knew there was still a plastic-wrapped pair or two at the back of the drawer. With her ears blocked, the knocking became more like a counterpoint to her jagged thoughts.

  She should have told him. He’d been right. He’d been a jerk about it, yes. But he’d been right. She’d been wrong, so wrong, and so had Nikki. Nikki, though, had the excuse of wanting to protect her brother from pain. Molly didn’t even have that.

  She’d just wanted to help Nikki. She’d wanted to do something good for a woman who’d been helping her, who’d been listening to her. Molly had ignored that voice in the back of her head that had said to call Colin. To text him at the very least. How long would that have taken? Your sister is hurt. Meet us at Kalamas Sheriff’s Office. Molly groaned. Her breath was hot against the sheet over her face but she didn’t tug it off. At least with the ear plugs in, her own voice was louder and better drowned out her sister’s. So she groaned to herself again.

  She could even admit the truth: she’d wanted to impress Colin. Not that she’d gone through it all in her head clearly – she hadn’t – but she’d had a brief vision of herself greeting him in a sterile police department hallway. Your sister will be fine. I’ve been with her. We’ve got it handled, but we’re glad you’re here. He’d kiss her, gratefully. He’d embrace his sister. She wouldn’t be a hero, exactly, but she would have been helpful.

  She used to be helpful. A long time ago.

  What an idiot. Instead, she’d contributed to a man going on the run. She’d assisted him in getting away. Todd Meyers wasn’t behind bars because of her.

  “I will let myself in, see if I don’t!” Adele’s voice was muffled, soft at the edges. It was only because Molly knew her so well that she understood what the words were at all. But Adele wouldn’t be able to open the door. On Molly’s way up the walkway from the café the night before (after Colin had dropped the bomb on her, after she’d carefully put out the puny fire in the oven, after she’d had a quick and violent attack of tears, after she’d swallowed them back along with the taste of soot and grief), she’d made a brief detour into the saloon. It had been almost closing time, and Adele had been nowhere around. Nate was behind the bar and had given her a friendly wave. She’d made a show of grabbing a can of Coke from the back room, holding it up and cheerfully calling, “Pay you later, okay?”

  Nate hadn’t noticed that she’d palmed the master key when she’d grabbed the soda.

  So now, Molly waited. Eventually, her sister went away.

  A little later, the pounding got louder and stronger. Nate’s voice filtered thickly through her earplugs. “Your sister is worried! Molly!”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Just give me a sign you’re alive, or I swear to God I’ll get the fire department over here to bust this open. If there’s anything Tox Ellis loves to do, it’s use his tools.”

  Molly threw a pair of balled-up socks at the door.

  Nate went away.

  Another hour went by.

  A softer knocking.

  Molly knew it wasn’t Colin.

  She took out an earplug, listening, waiting.

  For one second, she dared to hope.

  “Molly?” Nikki’s voice was loud but shaken. “Are we working today? Should I do the stuff on my list? You’re freaking me out. What happened?”

  A pause.

  “Did Todd get to you?” Terror laced Nikki’s words.

  Molly sat up. She stood and opened the door, just a crack. “I’m fine.”

  “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just need a day off.” Or a year. Maybe a lifetime.

  Moving more quickly than Molly would have predicted, Nikki slipped inside. “Talk to me.”

  “I just think…”

  “Are we still opening in four days?”

  God, wouldn’t that be great? If they put it off? Forever? “I saw your brother. He said the oven isn’t working right, and that it�
��s a hazard.”

  “Oh, that asshole. I’m going to kill him. He shut us down because you helped me?”

  “No.”

  Nikki frowned. “No, he didn’t shut us down? What’s going on, then?”

  “How do you feel?”

  Nikki touched her arm cast self-consciously. “Like I fell off a horse. But I’m not the one hiding. Talk to me.”

  “I just think I’m not up for working.”

  “Today?”

  “Ever.” It was suddenly true. Lana’s voice came back to her. If you want to run, just let me know. I’m pretty good at hiding. She slid back under the covers. It was only out of courtesy that she didn’t pull the blanket over her face. Yet.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe.” Molly could run. Get the hell out. She’d have bad credit for the rest of her life, but you couldn’t get blood from a turnip, right?

  Shit. The Golden Spike. Adele had co-signed on the loan for the café. They’d come after the saloon if Molly left town.

  Tears rose, and she pushed them back as hard as she could. If she started crying, she would never, ever stop. The room would fill with salt water, and she’d drown.

  But after she drowned and died, she’d have to eventually drag herself back to life and stand up. She’d have to take a shower and walk down to the café and work with Nikki on all the last-minute things they still had to do (so many, even more now that they couldn’t offer pizza for a while).

  “What else did my brother say to you?”

  Molly shook her head.

  Obviously guessing, Nikki said, “Something about Kalamas County being a bad place to file the report.”

  “You knew?”

  “Of course. If my brother got hold of Todd, he’d go down for years. I figure a failed report in Kalamas plus a restraining order might be all I need. I have to get away from him, that’s all. I don’t need him to be behind bars. I just have to turn off the juice. Make myself stay away from him.” Nikki bit her bottom lip.

  “But you will. Stay away from him. Right?”

  She shrugged. “I’m going to try. Love is really stupid.”

  “I know.”

  Nikki didn’t look surprised. She sat on the edge of the bed and touched Molly’s knee. “What are you going to do?”

  “You think I can get a restraining order against myself?”

  “Girl. If you could, I’d have been the first in line a long time ago.”

  “Colin really loves you.” His name was painful in Molly’s mouth.

  Nikki sighed. “I know. It’s awful. And I see the way he looks at you. He loves you, too.”

  The air in the room got thin. “No.”

  “He does.”

  “He said he didn’t.” Molly’s chest hurt, as if her heart wanted to get out, to run away without the rest of her body. Could she live without her heart? Manage the café and talk to people and serve coffee and smile at babies, all the time without anything to pump her blood? She’d figure out another way to get her blood pumping through her body. Maybe Amazon sold a machine for it.

  If she didn’t have a heart, she wouldn’t think of Colin.

  She’d called him trash.

  And his raised voice had triggered anxiety she’d thought she’d put behind her.

  It was the lowest moment she could remember.

  I was falling in love with you.

  I was falling in love with you. All night, as she’d struggled through sleep, she’d heard his voice as if someone had put it on repeat. Thought you were brave.

  “Then he’s an idiot, too.” Nikki closed her eyes as if thinking.

  Molly waited, daring to hold the smallest whisper of hope. Maybe Nikki would have the answer. The way Molly could fix this. She knew Colin, after all, better than anyone else.

  But all Nikki finally said was, “Yeah. Maybe we’re all idiots.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Four days later, the grand opening was a smash. The Golden Spike Café was swamped. They opened their doors at four o’clock in the afternoon, and by five, there was a line halfway down the block.

  Molly broke a sweat in the first hour and her hairline never quite dried after that.

  A TV crew from a network affiliate down the coast arrived right after Molly noticed she had ketchup already smeared on her black apron. A man with a lot of thick white hair and teeth to match shoved a microphone in her face. “Molly Darling, how does it feel to be starting a new venture in this tiny town? Following in your big sister’s footsteps? Worried about failure?”

  She felt herself turn red.

  “Oh, come on, have I ever been scared of failure before?” Of course she was terrified. That’s all she’d ever been. But he didn’t need to know that.

  “Can you show us the back of your shirt?”

  That, she could do. She was proud of their new shirts, which were also for sale to the public. On the front was a sketch of the Coffee Caboose. On the back was printed: Get Nailed at the Golden Spike.

  The reporter gave a hearty, fake-sounding laugh as she turned back around. “Ah, that’s great. Hey, you look like you’ve lost weight – quite a lot. Can you tell us how much?”

  Molly shouldn’t have been so surprised. Reporters always hit harder if their punch came out of nowhere. “Would you like to hear about our grand opening specials on the menu?”

  “Any tips for our heavier watchers? Have you got any diet secrets on your new menu?”

  Once, on a red carpet for the launch of their fourth album, a reporter had flat-out said, “What do you weigh?” And Molly had lied. Instead of retorting something appropriate like, “Mind your own business” or an even more satisfying, “Why don’t you fame whores objectify women less?” she’d just mumbled a figure that she hadn’t seen since she was sixteen. They’d run it on national television with a big caption that said, Really, Molly?

  Now, still in the bright light of his cameraman’s spotlight, Molly stuttered, “I…I…”

  An image of Colin flashed in her mind. His voice replayed in her head. You’re incredible. I want to just look at you for the next ten years, is that okay?

  She leaned in to the microphone. “Diet tips? I recommend hot sex, a lot of it. As much of it as you can get with a man who thinks you’re perfect the exact way you are now, not the way you could be if you lost weight.” She pushed past the reporter, ignoring his pleas for another sound bite as good as that one had been.

  “Who’s it with, Molly? That sex? Can we have a name?”

  No, they could not. “Whoever you’ve got, buddy!” It felt good. To just walk away from them. To not have her career riding on something they said, something the press could just make up.

  At six o’clock, she climbed up on a just-vacated table (after carefully covering it with a paper kids” menu) and announced they were moving to standing-room only. Tables were carried to the back parking lot by the busboys and eager-to-help customers and it turned from a dinner party into a cocktail party.

  It was a roaring success.

  The locavore mac’n’cheese that Molly was serving (made with flax seeds, organic cheese, and the liberal addition of fresh, locally sourced broccoli) was a smash. She cut pieces of it and served it in Dixie cups. Her server, Boris, new to running the espresso machine, had it mastered in the first hour and was turning out mochas and lattes with floral foam decorations by the time they closed. The fresh-caught salmon crudités were a huge hit.

  They ran out of macaroni at the same time they ran out of cheese.

  The coffee was gone, both regular and decaf.

  The milk cartons were empty.

  They eighty-sixed champagne after Molly raided the Golden Spike for their last six bottles.

  When there was literally nothing more to serve anyone except water, Molly stood on a chair. She raised her hands.

  The town (because by now most of the town had squeezed in, defying Nikki’s half-hearted attempts to keep the crowd at the legal fire-code limit) settled do
wn, their faces turned up to look at her. Lord. Molly had forgotten she used to have stage fright, but there it was, large as life. That sick dread in her stomach, the faintness in the back of her neck.

  Brave. She was brave.

  What a lie.

  “Thank you! Thank you so much for coming.” Her voice shook. Molly tried to keep herself from searching the room for Colin, but it was impossible, just as it had been all night. He wasn’t there. He probably never would be. She hadn’t even seen so much as his patrol car since he’d told her she’d lost his trust. Since she’d kicked him out of the café for being a bully.

  Since she’d kicked him out for being right about what she should have done, and hadn’t.

  A tremor shook her legs. Exhaustion threatened to take her down, knees first. “It means the world to me. To us.” She smiled her brightest and hoped her lips didn’t tremble. She thought with longing of her bed and how good it would feel when she was able to cry underneath the covers again. “I’d make a big speech, but honestly, I’m too overwhelmed. For now, I’ll just say thank you again. I’ll do my best to serve you all the way my Uncle Hugh used to: good food with maybe a few more healthy additives –”

  Norma gave a huge groan. Everyone laughed.

  “Don’t worry, I’m keeping bacon on the menu, and I’ll put it in everything I possibly can, just like he did. This weekend we’ll have our first barbecued oysters, so make sure you come back for that. I’m reinstating the jalapeño quesadillas with added kale that you’ll hardly notice, and you’ll be happy to know the shake machine should be here next week.” She waited for the cheer to die down. “The wood-fired pizza oven needs a little work, but soon enough we’ll be serving you crispy crusts, both regular and gluten-free.” She paused. “What, no cheer for the gluten-free part?” More laughter. “Come visit the Coffee Caboose – it’ll be open at six in the morning. And from this Darling girl to Darling Bay, thank you all so much.”

  She stepped down carefully. The grand opening was almost over, and she hadn’t died. Maybe she wanted to, but she probably wouldn’t.