Breakfast at the Honey Creek Café

by Jodi Thomas

  “So why are they following the drunk?” She’d finally caught his interest.

  Piper smiled. “It took me a while to figure it out, but I think they’re waiting for him to pass out. When he does, they plan to load him in the wagon and take him home. They need a daddy.”

  “Anyone tell the kids it doesn’t work that way?”

  “Who knows, Pastor, maybe this time it might.”

  Chapter 5

  Friday night

  Pecos

  Pecos Smith pulled his tie from his backpack and slipped it over his head as he headed into the high school gym. He had to rehearse for a graduation ceremony he probably wouldn’t be attending.

  The fact that he was the only kid in high school who wore a tie didn’t bother him. He saw it more as the other kids’ problem than his.

  He was going to be somebody someday and any pictures of him would reflect that he knew that fact from an early age. He’d be rich in twenty years, and no dumb high school photo would blackmail him through life. No matter how old the picture, he’d look sharp. After all, he would be “on the job” tonight, already starting his climb to success.

  As he took the school steps two at a time, Kerrie Lane caught up with him. Pecos swore he could smell her before she reached his line of sight. The blond, perfect senior smelled so good, like gingerbread cookies and honey straight from her granddad’s farm.

  “Hi, Pecos. You going to the dance tonight?”

  “No, I’ll be working.”

  It amazed him that she even cared enough to talk to him. Most girls looked right through him. He was six feet, bone thin, and covered with brown pimply skin.

  Who would have thought a girl like Kerrie would ever bother to speak to someone like him. She was the top of the graduating class and he was holding up the other end. Her brain was probably dumbing down just smiling at him.

  Her steps matched his. “You’ve got a job?”

  “Sure, I own my own company. I’m Honey Creek’s first Uber driver.”

  “But you drive a pickup.”

  He chose to look at the positive side. “I can only take two people, but I can haul lots of junk in the back. I figure all the sophomores who can’t drive will pay me to drive them to the last dance of the year. Showing up to the dance in a pickup is better than having your parents drop you off. For ten bucks I’ll even park out by the river for fifteen minutes before I take them home.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a bit creepy?”

  “No, I’ll step out of the truck, with the keys, of course. I’ll watch the river until the fifteen minutes is up. That should give any sophomore time to get a few kisses in.” He handed her a handmade card. “Pass this to someone who might need a ride home tonight. After a look in to see how they transformed the gym, I’ll be waiting for business in my truck out front.”

  She stuffed his card in her jacket pocket. “You got it all figured out, don’t you?”

  “No, but I’m working on it.”

  Just before she turned off at the door she added, “Love your tie.”

  Standing there watching her walk away, it occurred to him that he liked pretty much everything about Kerrie Lane. Someday, when he was rich, he’d ask her out and he wouldn’t be driving an old pickup.

  She’d probably turn him down, but he’d put it on his bucket list anyway. Pecos liked to think ahead and make plans. Seemed to him that if he started his list at nineteen, he’d have a much better chance of completing it by the end of his life.

  Pecos turned down the handicap ramp as a dozen giggling girls headed up the steps loaded down with tissue flowers dripping with glitter. He had decided against going inside. At any minute someone might need him out here. Anyway, he’d learned about all his brain could handle.

  In two more days he’d hopefully be graduating. This year wouldn’t be summer break. This year would be the start of his career, his life. Time to stop planning and start doing.

  With his diploma he might apply for a deputy job in town. Since he’d failed the second grade, he was already a year older than everyone in his class. Come September, he’d be twenty. That should be old enough.

  He figured his chances of getting the deputy job were pretty good. According to all the gossip, the sheriff’s department had been knee-deep in problems lately. He wouldn’t be surprised if the feds came in and arrested them all, even poor old Miss Daisy the dispatcher. Rumor was they were covering for the sheriff, but for what no one seemed to know.

  Just rumors. That’s all. It wasn’t likely old Sheriff Hayes did anything wrong, or that the seventy-year-old dispatcher was guilty of doing more than passing gas. She couldn’t possibly be running drugs or robbing banks. Miss Daisy could barely walk to the bathroom.

  If Pecos took the job, he might be sheriff in five years, mayor in another five. From what he saw, all deputies have to do is drive around. That would give him plenty of time to plan, and with luck the sheriff would let him use the squad car to make Uber runs when no crime was happening. When he got around to calling the Uber company and officially signing up, he’d ask if they minded that his car belonged to the county sheriff’s office.

  He had so many great ideas they were blowing off him like dandelion seeds in the wind.

  Chapter 6

  Late Friday night

  Colby

  Colby McBride knew he should probably get a cheap motel, but the thought of a lumpy bed covered in thin sheets and bed bugs as company didn’t appeal to him.

  He’d take the mayor’s suggestion of sleeping on the edge of town in Fisherman’s Lodge.

  Colby had walked past the rambling cluster of cabins between the river and a little creek that eventually fed into it. The place had that lost-in-time kind of look. It’d be quiet, and with luck they’d serve a decent breakfast. Plus it was only a ten-minute walk to city hall. He wouldn’t bother with a car, but it might be fun to ride a bike again. Colby planned to check that out in the morning.

  Fisherman’s Lodge didn’t have a neon sign or even a blinking OPEN in the windows of what had to be the office, but the lights were on inside and he could see a small lobby and a check-in desk.

  He took the steps two at a time. The boards were as loud as most doorbells.

  As he slipped inside he saw no one, but a voice bellowed, “Come on in, stranger.”

  Colby scanned the room. Empty. The place was decorated in fishing décor. Half-a-dozen species of fish were mounted on wooden boards with dates below. Old fishing poles spelled out Welcome on the wall behind the desk. A bear on his hind legs took up one corner, and a wild pheasant served as a lamp ornament. Most of the chairs in the lobby looked like they rocked. Handmade doilies he hadn’t seen the likes of since he visited his great-grandmother when he’d been about eight decorated every table.

  On the positive side, what looked like homemade cookies were on a platter at the desk, and the place was spotless.

  Colby took a step backward, then reentered.

  “Come on in, stranger.”

  Great. The ten-pound bass was talking to him.

  Colby heard a toilet flush and then an old man stepped from the door behind the desk like an outhouse cuckoo clock.

  “Sorry, son. Hope my watch bass didn’t scare you. Digger is my name and this is my place.”

  “No, the bass seemed friendly enough. Now if that bear greeted me it might have scared the hell out of me.” Colby moved closer with his hat in one hand and a Walmart bag in the other. “I was hoping you might have a room.”

  Colby casually laid the key the mayor had given him on the counter.

  The owner shook his head. “We ain’t got no rooms, but we got cabins. Built them myself. Scattered them among the trees so you’ll feel like you’re deep in the woods and not just at the end of town. We got the Brazos on one side of us and Honey Creek on the other.”

  The old guy raised one bushy eyebrow. “Sorry I wasn’t in the office, but I didn’t hear you drive up. That gravel is usually better than an alarm.”
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  “I walked from town. My pickup broke down about forty miles north of here.” Colby smiled. The old man was nosy, just the kind of local he needed. “Hoping to pick up a bike here. Wouldn’t know where to find an old Harley that’s running, would you?”

  “I might. I’ll make a few calls.” Digger swung the hotel register around. The thick book looked as old as him. “You checking in? Sixty a night or three hundred a week. Includes breakfast. Nothing fancy but good food.”

  Colby pulled out the worn wallet his friend bought at the secondhand store along with the clothes and boots he was wearing. He counted out three hundred dollars in twenties.

  The owner studied him a moment, then said low, “Since you’re by yourself I don’t reckon you’ll be using much water. How about I let you have the back cabin for two fifty?”

  “Fair enough.” He wrote his name in the ledger. “I’m Colby McBride.” The trooper began his cover story. “Used to rodeo. You ever heard of me?”

  “Nope.” Digger counted back fifty. “Never been much of a rodeo fan. Lost my leg in ’Nam, so it wasn’t a sport I’d ever try.”

  “I appreciate the discount,” Colby said.

  At that moment a barreled-chested man walked into the lobby and headed to an old cigarette machine at the back of the lobby. The man might be a trucker, but he didn’t look friendly.

  Colby turned back to the lodge owner. “I’ve been living lean for a while, but I’m coming into a little inheritance. If things work out, I might be buying a small place around here.”

  The smoker walked back out without a word, or even a glance in their direction. Digger seemed to take the big man’s measure, before turning his attention back to Colby.

  “What kind of place, buddy?” he said. “Maybe I can help. Know most of the folks around these parts.” Digger cut his eyes quickly toward the open window where the smoker had stopped to open his pack.

  For a moment Colby caught Digger’s glance and knew they were both aware the big man could be listening.

  Colby continued playing his part. “You know the mayor?”

  “Sure, everyone knows Mayor Mackenzie.” Digger pulled a key from the drawer, not the board, and laid it atop the key the mayor had given Colby.

  Colby pushed his chest out a bit. “Well, she don’t know it yet, but I’ve come to ask her to marry me.” He wasn’t crazy about playing the idiot or, worse, the idiot in love, but that was his cover story and he was sticking to it. “She was married to my best friend in college and I knew the minute I saw her she was too good for him. They didn’t last a year.”

  “And you think you are good enough for her, cowboy?”

  “I don’t know, but I figure it’s worth a try. She’s the one woman I’ve never forgotten. I remember every word she ever said to me.”

  Digger scratched his spotty beard. “What was the last thing she said?”

  Colby acted like he was thinking about it. “She said, ‘Get lost.’ ”

  The old man laughed. “Well, I wish you luck, Mr. McBride. I got a feeling you’re going to need it. Most of us locals never set eyes on that short-term husband. They were married and divorced before she even brought him home. I should tell you, half the single men in this town have asked her out and she’s turned them all down. And now with all that’s going on, she won’t have time for a date.”

  “I’m still going to try. What could be more important than finding the right mate?”

  Colby picked up the cabin key and the one the mayor gave him. He linked them together.

  Digger gave a slight nod. “The back cabin’s quieter. You’ll find all you need there.”

  Colby took the flashlight the old man offered and said, “Good night.”

  Halfway to the door he turned back. “By the way, what is going on in Piper’s life? Anything I should know before I reintroduce myself?”

  Digger stood a bit taller. “Nothing except that the last fellow she went out with disappeared. Most folks think his body will be floating into the Gulf of Mexico any day now.”

  Colby called back as he opened the door. “Well, I won’t be that easy to get rid of.”

  By the time he stepped back on the porch, the barrel-chested smoker was gone, but a half-smoked cigarette was still glowing on the gravel.

  Colby had no doubt that Digger was watching him through the window wandering around looking for the cabin. Finally, he found the last cabin on a winding road that led close to the water.

  A raccoon ran across the tiny porch jabbering, then disappeared.

  Colby was too tired to even be startled. He’d spent most of the day walking the town, eating at every café that was busy and eavesdropping on conversations.

  He unlocked the cabin door and stepped into his new home. Surprisingly, it was neat and clean. One room with a rock fireplace in the back corner and a tiny kitchen lining the left wall. There were no windows across the back, but the front would have a clear view of any car heading toward him.

  Colby relaxed for the first time since he walked out of the back door of the hospital. He pulled off his shirt. The wound on his upper side had bled through the bandage, but not the plastic bag he’d taped over it.

  He stripped off the covering and began to clean the two inches where a bullet had grazed him twenty-four hours ago. A souvenir left over from the last assignment.

  As he worked, he dialed his cell phone, set it on the sink, and punched speaker.

  “McBride?” The Ranger on the other end shouted. “About time you checked in.”

  “I made it to Honey Creek. Man, this place looks too much of a postcard picture to have trouble.”

  “Did you contact my sister?”

  “I did. You forgot to tell me your sister’s hot?”

  “Forget it. She’s not your type.”

  “I’ve already had this conversation with one Mackenzie tonight. Just as soon not repeat myself.” Colby bit his lip as he pulled the gauze away from the wound at his side. “Overnight me my service weapon and two thousand in twenties. I’m staying at Fisherman’s Lodge.”

  “I’ll have it delivered. It’ll look just like any other Amazon box.”

  “What time?”

  “That’s anyone’s guess. Early, hopefully.” The Ranger hesitated. “Be at the office when it comes if you can. I wouldn’t put it past Digger to open it.”

  Colby slowly cleaned blood away. “Is the old man one of the good guys or one of the outlaws around here?”

  “He’s harmless, but nosy. Despite his age, in a fight I’d trust him to cover my back. Word in town is that during the war he was a real hero, but after telling the story so many times Digger polished it into the Captain America version. Piper may have called and asked Digger to put you in the back cabin. I think she trusts him more than I do.”

  The phone was silent for a few seconds, then Texas Ranger Max Mackenzie said, “Be careful, Colby. You’re just there to collect information, watch what’s going on, not arrest anyone. The sheriff’s office might be mixed up in this somehow and if it is, we got to find out how. Boone Buchanan may be missing, but if he turns up in Texas, someone will recognize him. He’s tall, good looking, and rich. Plus, he loves getting his picture in the paper. If I didn’t know better I’d swear he was running for some office ten years in the future, and if you start asking too many questions you might find yourself in trouble.”

  “Believe me, I’m not planning on being used for target practice again. I’ll check in with any news tomorrow. Someone in this town knows what’s going on and I plan to find out who. If Boone Buchanan is hiding out in this place, it shouldn’t be too hard to flush him out.”

  Colby clicked off the phone and dropped the bloody washcloth in the sink.

  When he turned to pull out the supplies he’d bought at the pharmacy in the local Walmart, something moved just inside the back door of the cabin.

  Out of habit he reached for a weapon. It wasn’t there.

  The shadow moved again, into the light.


  Colby relaxed and tried to hide his injury. “Evening, Mayor. Glad to see you found your shoes.” She had on sneakers now that didn’t go with her boxy brown suit at all.

  “Shut up and sit down on that bed.” She advanced. “Why didn’t you mention you were injured?” She lifted his arm so she could examine the wound on his side.

  “Because your brother wouldn’t have hired me even though he knew I was the best man for this job.” Colby faced her straight on. No use trying to hide the wound. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Just a scratch, really.”

  She leaned down to stare at the bloody wound. “You’ve been walking all over my town bleeding?”

  He sat on the bed. “Sorry I’m leaking on your perfect little town. I’ll tell that street rat who shot me in the alley last night that you won’t have me dripping all over your nice, clean sidewalks.”

  “Why did you take on this job? You look like you should be in the hospital.” Her hand pushed his fingers away so she could see.

  “I’d already accepted the assignment. The bullet was just a stray. No one noticed I was shot. It was a wild bullet and both guys firing in the gang war are dead. I figured this was as good a place to recuperate as any.”

  “You’re crazy. It won’t be worth the money you’ll make if this gets infected. And you’ll be in big trouble when you get back. Bullet wounds have to be reported.”

  “I’ll worry about that later. Right now I’m here to make sure you are not in danger. I’m your guardian angel, Mayor.”

  “Then I’d better get you patched up.”

  He couldn’t help but notice how anger made her green eyes darker.

  Colby watched her go to work like he was a practice dummy at the first-aid station. She wasn’t gentle, but she was efficient. This wasn’t the first wound she’d treated, he’d bet. “I’m not doing this for the money or the thrill. I figured this might be my chance to get into the Rangers a few years sooner. Plus, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to help you. Word is you’ll run for governor one day.”