That got a fresh spate of screaming, and Frankie lowered the volume. Why, oh why, did she feel guilty that she wasn’t there to help Anja out of the mess her crummy behavior had caused?
Well, if Frankie got Kit and Aric out of the compound this Saturday, it was possible she’d be back in New York by next week. She could get everything back to normal.
She opened her mouth to say so, then shook her head. Making promises that might fall through wouldn’t be wise.
Instead, she made soothing noises and eventually managed to conclude the phone call.
However, Anja’s griping reminded her to check in with her friend who was dropping into her condo once a week to water the plants. Friends were truly the best gifts in the world.
That done, she tried to drink more coffee, but it was all gone. Che cavolo! She’d barely gotten a chance to appreciate it.
Outside, she headed toward her car and noticed a couple of men in the next block painting the outside of the pharmacy. Painting…like handymen might do.
She strolled that way.
The men were probably in their thirties. The brown-haired one was short and incredibly muscular. The other was tall and lanky with a bushy red beard and drooping mustache.
She caught an interested glance from the red-haired guy and smiled. “Hi. I love that color of teal blue.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty, isn’t it?” He tilted his head. “You’re the new server at Bull’s place, right?”
Such a small town. “That’s right. Um, would you guys happen to be Knox and Chevy?”
He brightened. “Good guess. I’m Knox.”
“Chevy, here.” The shorter man set his brush down. “Were you needing work done?”
“Oh. No. Actually, I have a favor to ask.” This felt so strange. “I know Bull parks his truck at your place so he can use the trail there. Could I do the same now and then? I saw a couple of birds—and bats—I wanted to photograph.”
It was the best excuse she could come up with on short notice.
“Huh.” Knox looked disappointed that she hadn’t come over to flirt or something. Then he shrugged. “Bats, huh. That’s different, but sure, not a problem. Did you see where the bull parks?”
“Mmmhmm. I did.”
“Use that spot,” Chevy said, his voice a deep bullfrog sound. “It’s out of the way. Watch out for kids and dogs.”
“I will. Thank you.” Turning, she headed back to her car.
“Hey, New York!”
Recognizing the tenor, Frankie turned in a circle. No Felix.
“Up here.”
Frankie spotted her fellow bar server standing in an upstairs window over the hardware store. “Good morning.” She frowned. Felix looked positively disheveled, hair standing up, a beard shadow. “Rough night?”
His laugh was more grumpy than amused. “Rough two days. On Monday, a friend and I flew up to Godwin Glacier to help set up the dog sledding camp. I twisted my ankle on the ice.”
“Oh, that sucks.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” He grimaced as he moved away from the window.
He was hurting.
And…hadn’t he mentioned he loved working at the roadhouse because he hated to cook. It didn’t even bother him that his rental had only a tiny microwave and mini fridge.
A mini fridge. This was Wednesday. Did he even have food left at home?
A minute later, in the coffee shop, the man behind the counter smiled. “Back again? Did your caffeine wear off already?”
She laughed. “I can always use more. Do you know Felix?” When the man nodded, she added, “What does he usually order—for his drink and pastry?”
“A latte and whatever the scone of the day is.”
“Perfect.” Frankie eyed the counter’s display window. “Then a large latte, a half-dozen of the scones, and one pecan sticky bun. And, since I totally deserve it, how about a large cappuccino with a shot of hazelnut, please. Can you make all that to go, please?”
“My pleasure. Coming right up.”
By the time she arrived back at the hardware store carrying all those goodies, she was glad Bull had given her the night off. The gunshot wound made her arm ache—and didn’t that sound badass?
On the side of the building, she climbed the stairs to the second-floor landing and tapped on the door to the left. “Felix? It’s Frankie.”
“It’s open.”
Balancing the takeout box, she entered the older one-bedroom apartment with a high ceiling, off-white walls, and brown shag carpet. It was probably pre-furnished since she doubted Felix would have chosen the bland blues of the upholstered furniture and landscape paintings.
She glanced at him and grinned at his purple running pants and pale green T-shirt.
On the couch, he pushed to a sitting position. “Girl, what’s up?”
“I brought you some breakfast. And coffee. Obstacles cannot be vanquished properly without coffee.”
His face flushed, a gleam of tears appeared in his eyes, then he smiled. “You’re an angel from heaven.”
“No, my child, from New York, which is a completely different location.” Relieved he’d chosen to laugh, she opened the box and handed over his latte. In the kitchen corner—which needed cleaning—she dug out plates and napkins and arranged the pastries.
“The scones are for you.” After tossing her jacket onto a chair, she fixed him with a stern gaze. “No touching my sticky bun, boy.”
He snickered. “That calls for a filthy response, but I’m not at my best.”
No, he really wasn’t.
Frowning, she sipped her drink, nibbled on her pastry, and studied her surroundings. The rest of the apartment wasn’t truly dirty, just messy.
First things first. She got a pillow off one of the chairs. “Lean back against the armrest and put your foot up on the couch.”
When he did, she tucked the pillow under the one that was all strapped-up. “Did you see the doctor?”
“Doc Caz? Sure.” Felix grinned. “He’s such a hottie.”
“I’d have to agree with you there”—although Bull was much sexier—“but I’m surprised he didn’t arrange for someone to help you.”
Felix flushed. “I said I had it covered, and…he started to ask how, but somebody brought in a guy who’d missed the tree with a chainsaw. Blood everywhere.”
“Ew.”
Felix pointed to her. “See? Exactly how I felt. I hauled ass out of that place.”
“Without getting the help you needed. Bad Felix.” Frankie fixed up an ice bag out of the puny supply of ice in the mini fridge. After laying it on his ankle, she headed for the kitchen. “I’m going to tidy up in here a little.” Most of the mess was containers of food he’d microwaved and dirty glasses and cups.
“Girlfriend, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know. And you didn’t have to help me learn the ropes at the roadhouse.” She grinned at him over her shoulder. “Gratitude paybacks are hell, aren’t they?”
He laughed and relaxed, seeming less lost.
Here in Alaska, she’d learned how it felt, being alone with no one to call. None of her work buddies should ever feel like that. Not if she had anything to say about it.
As she finished up in the kitchen, there was a knock on the door.
Felix shook his head. “That staircase hasn’t seen so much action since the 1900s.” He raised his voice. “It’s open.”
Frankie frowned. “It’s not safe to leave your door unlocked.”
Audrey, the curvy blonde librarian, walked in with filled grocery sacks. “Felix, you should lock your door.”
He burst out laughing. “I’m surrounded by city girls.”
Audrey smiled across the room. “Hi, Frankie.”
A petite older woman with chin-length white hair walked in. “My boy, what have you done to yourself?” The elegant British accent made Frankie blink.
“Lillian, my sweet, would you believe I tangled with an icy glacier and lost?” Felix gesture
d to his ankle. “Someone told you?”
Audrey nodded. “Caz asked Bull if he needed to write a doctor’s excuse for you, but Bull said you were already scheduled off for most of the weekdays this week. He was pretty unhappy you hadn’t called to tell him you were laid up.”
Just the mention of Bull’s name made Frankie’s heart race.
Audrey continued, “He got called to Anchorage for some financial thing, or he’d be here scolding you.”
“Uh, oops?” Felix shook his head. “He would, too. He’s such a great boss.”
He was. Frankie sighed. It’d almost been easier when she believed the handsome face and friendliness were only camouflage for a nasty person underneath. Instead, he was just what he showed the world—outgoing, smart, and concerned about others. Including his employees.
Felix should have called Bull. Scowling, she picked up the glittery phone on the coffee table, pushed Felix’s finger against the reader to unlock the device, and added her phone number to his contact list. “Next time, call me.”
“I—” He blinked as Audrey took the phone from Frankie, added her own number, and handed it to Lillian who entered hers.
Felix bit his lip. “Thank you.”
“We brought some easy-to-heat food and staples.” Audrey picked up the sacks and headed for the kitchen.
As Lillian sat on the couch to check and rewrap Felix’s ankle, Frankie finished tidying up the apartment.
“Still swollen,” Lillian shook her head.
Frankie walked over. It was bruised, as well. “Ouch.”
He shrugged. “It’s a lot better today. I’ll be able to take my regular shift tomorrow night.”
“Keep your ankle wrapped for a few more days,” Frankie advised. Her years in aikido had led to a lot of sprains and strains. “It’ll twist again otherwise.”
“I will. Stupid ankle.” Pouting slightly, he took a sip of his coffee.
As Lillian pulled out a new ACE wrap, she frowned at his drink. “The coffee shop is farther than you should walk today.”
“I didn’t go there.” Felix smiled. “Frankie took pity on me and brought me breakfast.”
“Did she now?” The woman turned to Frankie. “I’m quite sorry. We simply barged in here without introductions. I’m Lillian Gainsborough. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“She’s also known as Mayor Lillian to the Rescue citizens,” Audrey said.
Felix grinned. “She’s also your landlord’s ah…friend, if that’s what we’re calling it these days.”
Lillian looked down her nose at him. “Such a lackluster word, but I suppose it will suffice.”
Felix simply laughed.
Frankie stared. The old Okie who owned the grocery had this sophisticated Englishwoman for a girlfriend? “I’m Frankie Bocelli, also known as one of the waitstaff in the roadhouse.”
“Ah, that’s where I’ve seen you,” Lillian said.
Audrey laughed and told Frankie, “A guy reached for your ass when you were wiping down a table, and you towel-whipped his hand hard enough we heard him yelp all the way across the bar.”
“Quite nicely done.” Lillian nodded her approval. “You were perfectly dignified when you asked him if anything was wrong.”
Audrey was snickering. “Really, what could he say?”
“Was it the Patriot Zealots giving you grief?” Felix asked with a frown.
“No, just a tourist who overstepped the boundaries.” She’d worried that Bull would be upset, but he’d just congratulated her on handling it herself—and reminded her to call for him anytime she wanted him to take care of a problem. His trust in her and his protectiveness were a devastating combination.
“Actually, the PZ crowd won’t be bothering your fair establishment for a couple of weeks,” Lillian said.
“Really?” Audrey paused in putting groceries away. “Did they leave?”
“Unfortunately not.” Lillian folded her hands in her lap. “I spoke to Reverend Parrish to schedule a town council meeting, and he said the entire compound is going into a lockdown for training exercises. Maneuvers.”
“They certainly take themselves seriously—like an army.” Audrey banged the cupboard door as if to express her opinion.
A lockdown for two weeks? Frankie scowled at the floor. Surely, they weren’t on heightened alert because of her? Because of the drone, and then spotting her near the fence. Could they think federal agents were suspicious and scouting them?
Had she caused this? “Is this normal for them?” she asked Lillian.
“Oh, now and then. It’s some sort of readiness evaluation. Chevy said once that there is a lot of shooting going on during their scenarios. The members are restricted to the compound while they test their ability to respond to attacks.” Lillian’s brow wrinkled. “There is a gray area between the practical preparation for trouble or going overboard.”
“I can guess which side the PZs fall on,” Frankie said, her stomach sinking. Kit had chosen Saturdays because the PZ officers would be out drinking. But they wouldn’t leave if they were restricted to the place. And the guards would be extra alert during a readiness evaluation. It would sure be the wrong time to be trying to escape—or cut a fence.
There was no choice. Kit and Aric’s rescue would have to wait until after the lockdown. It was good they’d mentioned rolling the date forward in case of problems.
Rapid footsteps on the staircase caught her attention. Someone thumped on the door.
Felix rolled his eyes. “Come on in.”
The young girl Frankie had seen with Bull danced in. She was short, slender, and maybe nine or ten years old with long brown hair and big brown eyes. She hugged Felix. “I’m sorry you’re hurt, F-man.”
“Yeah, me, too, baby.” Felix kissed the top of her head. “Have a scone—I know you like them.”
Lillian sniffed. “The rapscallion is playing favorites. He didn’t offer any to us.”
“Cuz he likes me better.” Chortling, the girl grabbed a scone, settled on the floor beside Felix, then turned a curious gaze on Frankie.
“You two haven’t met yet, have you?” Groceries put away, Audrey sat down in an armchair. “Frankie, this is Regan, Caz’s daughter.”
“You’re Frankie?” Regan scowled before her face closed down.
What did I do? At a loss, Frankie glanced at the others.
Audrey got an oh-shit expression, whereas Felix and Lillian appeared confused.
“So, Regan, what’d Frankie do to make you mad?” Felix asked, reminding Frankie of how Bull had asked nearly the same question. What was with these guys?
Regan gave Frankie the evil eye. “She doesn’t like Bull. He said so.”
Oh, merda. “Um, actually, I didn’t like him at first. Later, I found out I was wrong, and now we’re friends.” She could feel the heat rising into her cheeks.
“Friends? Again with the insipid descriptor?” Ignoring Felix’s snickering, Lillian pursed her lips. “I am certain our Bull would prefer to be known as a swain, beau, paramour, suitor, or an innamorato, instead.”
There were no words.
Frankie took a sip of her coffee.
Felix grinned. “See, Audrey, you should have Frankie’s skin color. She doesn’t turn nearly as pink as you do.”
After a moment, Regan focused on Frankie. “Are you going out with Uncle Bull?”
Frankie choked on her drink. “No. No, I’m not. No.”
“Why not? He’s really nice—and a hunk. Women are always all over him.” Regan said.
“Oh, really.” Frankie had to unclench her jaw. “Well. I’m sure he’s exceedingly popular with women, but I’m too busy to date anyone—and I’ll be returning to New York once the summer is over.”
“Now, doesn’t that have a familiar ring?” Lillian wagged her finger at Audrey. “However, I’m afraid Bull hasn’t found anyone to capture his interest, which is a shame. He would be much happier with a good woman, don’t you agree, Regan?”
Oh, wait a
minute here. Dragging in children to make a point was cheating. Frankie gave Lillian a frown to show her she’d broken the unspoken rules.
* * *
Regan studied the woman who had just given Lillian a dirty look. Only, her mouth had tipped up, kinda like she was almost laughing, too.
Frankie’d been all embarrassed when she talked about Uncle Bull. Almost like how Niko had turned all red when he sat beside Delaney at lunch, and stupidhead Shelby made smoochie noises. But Shelby’d been right, cuz Niko totally liked Delaney.
Was this Frankie crushing on Uncle Bull? Maaaybe. Uncle Bull wasn’t usually interested in women, but he sure kept watching her across the lake last weekend. Maybe he was like…lonely. Papá had JJ now, and Uncle Gabe had Audrey. Uncle Hawk didn’t act like he’d want a girlfriend, but Uncle Bull might. Grammy Lillian said he’d be happier with a good woman, and she knew, like, everything about love stuff.
But would this Frankie be okay for Uncle Bull?
Papá said Uncle Bull was married two times, but sometimes people didn’t stay together cuz it turned out they didn’t like the same stuff. And that made sense, Regan decided.
Maybe she should check…? Okay, so, Uncle Bull liked cooking and fighting. “Do you like to cook?” Regan asked Frankie.
She blinked and then smiled. “I love to cook. My grandmother taught me a lot, and then, I worked in a restaurant when I was in college and learned a lot of their specialties. How about you? Do you like being in the kitchen?”
“Yeah.” Regan grinned. “I made donuts last week. It was way chill.”
Audrey snickered. “The guys found out, and the donuts were gone before lunch.”
“Four men—I bet.” The way Frankie rolled her eyes made Regan laugh.
“I shared,” Regan said. “I could’ve guarded my donuts if I wanted to, cuz Papá’s teaching me to fight—and Uncle Bull’s helping him.”
When Frankie wrinkled her nose, Regan’s heart sank. Guess she didn’t like to—
“Your father’s probably a good teacher for you, but Bull is huge, and the way he fights wouldn’t be right for you. He’s used to being a lot bigger and stronger than just about anyone.”
What You See: Sons of the Survivalist: 3 Page 14