Breakfast at the Honey Creek Café

by Jodi Thomas

  Pecos

  After the lights went out in the town square, Pecos walked back to his pickup, trying to remember every detail about the fair. For a few moments under the tiny lights waving in the summer breeze with the band playing and everyone smiling at them, Pecos felt like a prince. But inside, he knew he was just the frog.

  He glanced back in the direction of her house as he climbed in the back of his pickup. Pecos wished he’d spread hay in the back of the truck before he’d left the farm. At least he’d remembered an extra blanket. He pulled off his boots and used the suitcase as a pillow. Tomorrow he’d try to find a cheap place to rent, or even better, a room he could trade for free labor.

  Leaning back, he closed his eyes and thought he could still hear the band playing slow, going-home songs. She’d felt so good cuddled up next to him on the dance floor. He’d loved the way she’d whispered in his ear about little things she thought were funny. They were in the middle of a crowd and yet they were in their own private world.

  A bump against the side of his truck rocked him out of his memories. Pecos frowned. Surely there weren’t dogs big enough to jump into a pickup bed.

  Another bump irritated him.

  “You plan on sleeping out here?” a low voice asked.

  Pecos sat up, preparing to argue. There was no law against sleeping in your own pickup. Plus, he had almost a thousand dollars tucked away on him and he wouldn’t give it up without a fight if the shadow planned to rob him.

  Then he saw the outline of the round, little man wearing a fedora hat. “Mr. Winston, I’m not bothering anyone.”

  “I didn’t say you were, but before dawn it’s going to rain. You’ll get soaked. Go park under a bridge or something.”

  “No, I want to be close to Kerrie.”

  “You could go home and come back tomorrow. It’s not that far.”

  Pecos pushed the blanket aside. “I left home. I’m not going back. Come Monday I’m hoping to get a job and look for an apartment. I’m grown. I’m on my own.”

  Mr. Winston finally seemed to understand. “Sounds like a very logical plan. I just see a few problems. If it rains, you’ll look pretty bad to go interview in the morning. Then there’s the problem when lightning tags along with the downpour to come. It’ll probably hit the pickup and then you’ll be looking chicken-fried for weeks. They say if you’re struck you don’t die, you just go around jittering for months.”

  Pecos frowned. He’d had enough to worry about before the old man came along. “You got any ideas, Mr. Winston, ’cause I’m not going back home.”

  “Well, since you’re parked at the end of my block, you might as well come home with me. I’ll dust out one of the extra bedrooms. You could stay with me till you find a place.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “I wouldn’t mind.”

  Pecos followed Mr. Winston into the old house that everyone thought was a bit frightening. A few of the older folks said that years ago, Winston used to come every summer. He’d hired a cleaning crew to polish the place until it shined; he’d even hired a gardener.

  Then he waited. When asked, he’d say the family would be coming soon, but they never did. As the years passed he did less and less to prepare, and finally, he came one summer and never left. The garden died and Winston no longer hired cleaning crews. None of the family he talked about ever came.

  By the time Pecos was old enough to know about Mr. Winston, twenty years had passed since he’d forgotten to leave in the fall. Some folks said he was rich but lonely. Others said he was broke and had nothing but the old house.

  Just in case the second might be true, Pecos pulled out the jar of honey Papa Lane had given him. He handed it to Winston. “We can have this for breakfast.”

  “I’ll make biscuits in the morning. We’ll have a regular feast.”

  As they entered the once-grand home, Pecos followed close because Mr. Winston didn’t bother to turn on any lights.

  They moved through the shadowy streetlights that spilled into the hallways. They climbed a narrow stairway off the kitchen and Winston opened the first door he came to. The door creaked. The floor creaked. Even Mr. Winston creaked.

  The old man pulled the drapes open to let in the streetlight glow. “You’ll be comfortable here. I ran out of lightbulbs a while back and borrowed the ones in this room, but there is enough to see to move around.”

  Pecos dropped his suitcase and helped fold the plastic covering the bed.

  “I keep the sheets clean. The bathroom is down the hall, but there may or may not be hot water. The plumbing seems to have a mind of its own these days. Breakfast will be at eight. That all right with you?”

  “You’re very kind, sir. I hope I can pay you back one day.”

  “Don’t even think of it.” The old man smiled. “I’ve been much blessed. I’m glad to have the company.”

  After Winston left, Pecos walked around the large room. Everything was covered in dust as fine as winter’s first snow, but beneath looked to be delicately carved furniture.

  Pecos stripped down, folded his clothes over a chair, and slipped into bed. The bed felt so much better than the pickup, he must be in heaven.

  A lazy sliver of moon passed across his window like a lost smile among the stars, then disappeared behind clouds.

  Pecos closed his eyes and grinned back. What he’d been waiting for all his life had begun. He’d make his own way from now on. He’d carve out a career, a name for himself, a future.

  Chapter 26

  Midnight

  Colby

  By the time Colby made it back to the fair, the mayor was gone and the booths were all closed down. He walked the square, feeling terrible for abandoning Piper and worse for losing the trail of the dark-haired woman.

  Marcie, the invisible barmaid the preacher told him about, had turned a corner and thirty seconds later when he reached the same corner, there was no one in sight. No girl. No car pulling away. Nothing. It was as if she simply vanished and along with her went his only clue to where Boone Buchanan would be.

  Maybe the hotshot lawyer was at the bottom of the river. As far as Colby knew, he was chasing a ghost.

  He thought about looking for Piper, but it was late. He didn’t even bother to go back and pick up his Harley parked in front of Widows Park. He simply walked to the edge of town and turned in at the lodge.

  Digger’s office light was still on. Colby decided to drop in. The old guy was probably observing Colby’s every move. This assignment had more layers than the Palo Duro Canyon.

  The lodge keeper looked up from his desk when he heard the fish talking. Strange, no matter how many times Colby came into the office, it still made him laugh to hear the greeting.

  “Evening, Digger.”

  “Evening, Colby. You lost your girl tonight. Mr. Winston walked away with the mayor on his arm.”

  Colby shrugged. “Just my luck. Women are always attracted to the sharp dressers.”

  Digger looked him up and down. “You could work on that a bit, son.”

  Colby considered the fact that the advice was coming from a man who was wearing overalls and a BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY T-shirt. He decided to change the subject. “I thought I saw that woman named Marcie up on the stage with her brother tonight. Then she disappeared.”

  “Why go after Marcie when you had the mayor in your arms? That’s the first time I’ve seen her dancing in a long time. Piper used to dance with her grandfather, but that was years ago. You two looked grand when you whirled her around. When you left her, every single man wanted to take her for a spin around the floor, but she said she had to call it a night.”

  Colby hated that he’d left her without a word. He’d been focused on the job. “I’ve got to try harder, Digger. I’m crazy about her.” The words came easily. Colby realized he wasn’t acting.

  “That you do, son.” The old man hesitated as if debating with himself. Finally, he added, “I’ve seen you walking the river’s bank at night. You know
there are fishermen who go out on the water only when it’s dark. They stay pretty much to themselves, but they see things at night. You might want to talk to a few of them.”

  “How do I find them?”

  “They got places close to the river. Mostly just fishing shacks. Turn off any dirt road and you might find one. There’s a few two miles north on a road without a name. Try stopping to ask for help with getting the mayor’s boat back to the Honey Creek Café. She stores it there as part of the ambiance. One of the fishermen told me you probably broke it. Said she’s been riding that river for years and never had a problem with the motor until you came along”

  “You know we were out there?”

  “Sure. Several of them saw you floating by. You just didn’t see them. They’ve lived out there so long they blend in with the night.”

  “Anything else?” Colby studied Digger.

  The old guy smiled and pulled a box from behind the desk. “Yeah, this came for you yesterday, Trooper.” He handed it over. “The box had been opened.”

  “I’ll report it.” Colby stared at Digger.

  “No need to do that. I might have accidentally opened it thinking it was mine.” He didn’t meet Colby’s eyes. “One service weapon, one badge, just in case you need them.”

  “Busted.” Colby grinned. No use denying it now. Digger knew the truth. “I was sent to watch over Piper, and find Boone if I could.”

  “I knew something was up. I’m not sure what’s between you and the mayor. You two were burning up the dance floor. But if you’re protecting the mayor, I’m on your side. Call on me anytime.”

  “Thanks, Digger. I will. And keep this under your hat.” Colby wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already told half the town.

  “I will. But you got to be careful with our mayor. I know you’ll protect her, but don’t you break her heart, cowboy. The act you’re putting on is like playing with fire. You hurt her and half the town will line up to murder you. Then we’ll dig you up every anniversary of your death and kill you again.”

  Colby nodded and left before he arrested Digger. Tampering with mail. Death threats on an officer of the law. Messing with a corpse.

  Funny thing was, Digger was on his side. That was a frightening thought.

  When he left the office, Colby took the back way to his cabin by walking along the water’s edge. It was after midnight, but he realized he wouldn’t sleep without apologizing to Piper.

  He walked slowly, listening for any sound of the fishermen. He thought he saw one, but the shadow disappeared in a blink. Colby was halfway to Piper’s room at the café when he saw a man sitting at the outcrop of a rock dangling his legs off almost in the water.

  Colby stood in the pale moonlight five feet away. “How you doing, Daily? Thinking of jumping in?”

  Daily raised his chin. “Ever’ night. How about you?”

  Colby moved over to Daily and sat almost touching him. For once he didn’t smell alcohol on him. “You not drinking tonight?”

  “No, I can’t sleep, but if I drink I won’t wake up in the morning. My brother, who turned into my boss, says if I’m late one more time he’ll fire me.” Daily’s voice was low and deep, as if he were standing in a well. “I wouldn’t blame him if he did. We used to own the place together, but I didn’t hold up my end.”

  “You ever think of doing anything else?”

  Daily shook his head. “I grew up in the shop. When my wife died I just stopped going to work. My brother took over. He pays my bills so I kept the house, and he gives me money for food and drinking. That’s all I need.”

  Colby had heard a lot of stories in the years working as a state trooper, but this beat any of them. He thought of telling Daily Watts that he was alive and still young, but he doubted it would help.

  “Any chance you saw a man climb out of the water almost a week ago.”

  “You mean the one who parked in the middle of the river?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think so. I did see something that night. Thought it was a beaver slithering up on the mud. But this was way north of where folks claim the car went in. He would have had to be a strong swimmer to make it so far upstream. Anyway, the muddy critter rested on the river bank for a while, and then he stood on his hind legs and I realized he was a man. He disappeared back in the bush. It rained that night so there wouldn’t have been any tracks.”

  “Have any idea who he was?”

  Daily shook his head. “He was covered in mud.”

  “Did you tell anyone about this?”

  “I told the sheriff that night. He was packing for his honeymoon, course I didn’t know it at the time. He didn’t seem to be interested in a mud creature who turned into a man. He said I needed to go sleep it off, but I wasn’t drinking that night.”

  “You still seeing those angel kids at night?”

  “Yeah, but only when I drink. The preacher says I should stop and talk to them.”

  “You want me to walk you home, Daily?”

  “No, I’ll stay awhile. It’s quiet out here.”

  Colby took a step and turned back. “Do you ever see fishermen out here at night?”

  “I do, but I leave them alone and they leave me alone.”

  Colby said goodbye and continued on his journey. When he got to the Honey Creek Café it was almost two a.m. He’d learned several things tonight, even if he didn’t get to talk to Marcie.

  If he woke the mayor up to tell her, she’d yell at him. If he didn’t, she’d yell at him. Hell, it was worth the argument just to see what nightgown she was wearing.

  Yesterday at breakfast he’d left a window unlocked that was hidden behind a curtain. Much better way in than climbing the trellis.

  He pushed on the glass window and it gave. Then Colby shoved his body through the opening, fell into a chair, and rolled across the dining room. He cussed as he dusted himself off and checked for broken bones.

  He was heading to the front stairs when he heard an upstairs door open and then footsteps. Colby took a deep breath and looked up.

  She was there. Green spaghetti straps holding up a forest-green silk gown that barely covered her bottom. It took a few heartbeats for him to see the old Colt .45 in her hand pointed right at him.

  “PJ, do you have any idea how sexy you are like that? If we were in the Old West you could rob a bank in that outfit and no one would press charges.”

  “Do you know how close to death you are? You can’t just break into my house.” She waved the weapon at him. “And you stood me up tonight. Just disappeared. Left me at the fair.”

  “Sorry about that. I was chasing a lead.”

  “And did you find one?”

  “No, the woman vanished. I crossed every major street in town looking for her. No luck. But I did find a man who said he saw a stranger covered in mud crawl out of the river the night Boone disappeared.”

  “Why didn’t he come forward?”

  “It was Daily Watts.”

  She lifted the Colt again as if using it as a pointer. “Daily Watts, the drunk who sees angels following him? There is no telling what he sees.”

  Colby knew he wasn’t winning. He might as well start up the stairs and get shot.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I thought I’d stay here and protect you.”

  She lowered the Colt and simply stared at him.

  “I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe. Someone could break in here from any one of a dozen windows.” He was on the same step. “I’ll sleep here tonight on guard.”

  “You can’t sleep in my room.”

  “Why not? I did last night.” He opened her bedroom door wider and waited for her to enter.

  “I’m too tired to argue.” She set the Colt on the dresser. “But, I swear, Trooper, if you touch me, I will shoot you.”

  When he headed to the bed, she pushed him backward to the settee.

  Colby didn’t argue. He wrapped up in a quilt, put a pillow ov
er the arm of the settee, and tried to get comfortable.

  An hour later he was still wide awake and she was sleeping soundly. Almost sleepwalking he rose and moved to the empty side of her bed. He’d get up early and be back on the settee before she woke. She’d never know.

  Just before he fell asleep, he felt her roll against him. Colby opened his arm and let her snuggle into his side. When he kissed her hair he whispered, “You’re safe, honey. You’re safe.”

  Monday

  Chapter 27

  Morning

  Pecos

  Pecos sat on the long couch in the Lanes’ huge living room. He couldn’t stop crossing and uncrossing his legs. This was his first day out in the world and he was feeling more and more like a man. He’d had breakfast with Winston at dawn. They’d talked about his plans as Pecos ate most of the biscuits with honey. Mr. Winston was a good listener but lean on advice.

  Then Pecos went to the sheriff’s office and asked for an application.

  LeRoy Hayes frowned at him. “Well, I’ll put you on the list, Pecos. But to tell the truth, I don’t know when there’ll be an opening. How do you feel about being sheriff? That will probably be the next posting.”

  Pecos thought for a moment and said, “Why not. How hard could it be? You’ve been doing it for years.”

  To his surprise, LeRoy laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair. “Tell you what. I’ve got an open spot for a dispatcher. You’d have to be trained, but that don’t take long. And I should warn you, you’ll have to work the ten to six a.m. shift with Daisy. I can’t tell you why no one wants those hours. Could be they just don’t want to work with her. She’s mean as they come, but she knows the business.”

  “I’d love that time slot.” He was already reasoning that he could get a day job, too, and still have eight hours to sleep, eat, and shower. “Do I get a uniform?”

  “Nope, you can show up naked if you want to. Daisy probably won’t notice. Pays eighteen dollars an hour with two rules. No visitors in the dispatch room, and no matter what, you show up sober and ready to work. You miss a night you’re scheduled and you’re gone. Understand me? No second chance.”