Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

Rodeo Father

Автор
Жанр
Год написания книги
2019
<< 1 ... 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 >>
На страницу:
13 из 15
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

Disappointment thrummed through Rachel. So that’s the kind of man Travis was, a guy who kissed strangers, but liked flashy women like Cindy. Was the man a player? Had she pegged him all wrong? “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? But I’m working. You’re taking care of Tori.”

“I know. I’ll ask Laurie to babysit for a few hours.” Cindy went to the porch and bent to talk to Tori. “You don’t mind, do you, honey? Laurie is fun.”

“She colors with me.” Tori smiled with Cindy’s dimples.

“But I can’t afford to pay her,” Rachel objected, knowing Cindy wouldn’t offer to pick up the tab.

“Sure you can. You make good tips at the bar.”

“But—” What could she say? I need money to move out, to get away from you? She couldn’t bear to sound so cold and ungrateful, especially not when Cindy had been kind enough to take her in. Rachel should have never moved back into the trailer with Cindy and her resentment, but what else could she have done? Davey had left her with nothing but broken promises and hot air.

Rachel gave in to the inevitable. “Okay. I’ll be home after one.”

Before leaving, Rachel kissed Tori again because, while Davey hadn’t been able to keep a buck in his pocket, he had made her laugh a lot and had given her the most precious of gifts, two children.

Just as Rachel opened her car door, Tori called, “See you later, aggilator.”

Ah, Victoria, my sweet divine daughter, you raise my spirits as much as your father used to.

Rachel blew her an air kiss. “Alligator, Tori-ori-ori-o. In a while, crocodile,” she sang and got into her old car and drove away laughing, but not before catching her new neighbor watching her with a strange expression on his face.

Travis Read, who are you? The man who loved his carousel ride this morning, or the kind who is attracted to a flashy, shallow flirt like my mother?

* * *

A HEADACHE POUNDED behind Rachel’s left eye. The tray full of beers she carried dragged down her arms. Was the music louder than usual tonight?

Honey’s Place was the only bar in Rodeo. True, there was the diner, but her friend Vy ran an alcohol-free eatery, and most people wanted beer with their fries on a Friday night.

A lot of these people were cowboys who worked the ranches in the area. They came in at the end of the week for liquor, great burgers and fun music.

Despite her aching legs and feet, Rachel hustled. She needed her tips, needed to come up with an alternative plan now that Abigail’s house had been sold.

If she felt a tad desperate, well...she was.

A table called for a round of beers. Rachel headed to the bar to fill the order.

“How’re you doing?” Rushed but efficient, Honey Armstrong filled orders as quickly as her servers brought them to the bar. Her mane of long, blond curls wild tonight, she peered at Rachel critically. “You look tired.”

Fearful of giving Honey a reason to send her home early, Rachel put on her game face.

“I’m good.”

“Rach, don’t try to fool me. You know you can’t.”

“I’ll take a dinner break soon,” Rachel promised.

Honey pointed a finger at her. “You’d better. You look worn out.”

It was Friday night, the bar was packed and Rachel needed to hustle. She would take care of her aching body tomorrow morning.

Off-duty, Sheriff Cole Payette, sidled up to the bar and sat on the only empty stool. His spot. No matter how busy Honey’s got, the locals left it empty for him. Friday and Saturday nights often found him sitting there for hours, nursing a beer.

Rachel liked him.

As it turned out, Rachel didn’t get that break she’d promised Honey she would take. Her energy flagged, but customers continued to pour in.

With every step, her feet screamed for attention.

Too bad. As long as there were customers, she would continue to work and bring in tips.

She set a heavy tray of mugs of beer onto the table next to the front door and handed them around. She was just making change when she felt a draft. New arrivals. Good. More tips.

She glanced up...and froze. Cindy walked in with Travis, the man freshly shaved and movie-star handsome, the tips of his hair still damp from a shower, she guessed.

Why couldn’t Cindy have taken him to the diner for dinner? Why come here? But Rachel knew. Her mom was showing off that she was with the handsome new cowboy in town, and Honey’s would be a lot more crowded than the diner. Cindy liked an audience.

She wore even more spangles tonight and had put on her sparkly eye shadow.

When he saw Rachel, Travis raised one eyebrow as if to ask, “You work here?”

Rachel suppressed the part of herself that found him attractive.

Fantasizing about a handsome stranger when she looked like a beer barrel on legs was just the type of daydreaming she had to quit.

Anyhow, Cindy must be his type. He’d asked her out on a date pretty darn quickly, hadn’t he? Which meant he wasn’t Rachel’s type. And why was she having those kinds of unlikely thoughts, anyway? He was dating Cindy, and he had bought Rachel’s house. Cindy was welcome to him.

Rachel’s dating days were long over.

Then why, in the middle of a crowded bar surrounded by people she’d grown up with and loved, did Rachel feel so lonely? So in need of someone to talk to? Of someone who would listen? Or who would just hold her hand so she didn’t feel desperately alone?

Travis and Cindy sat at one of her tables, and Rachel left them with menus while she finished delivering drinks to another couple of tables.

When she returned, she pointed to the hooks lining the walls on either side of the door. “You can hang your hat there.”

Travis raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t notice them. No one will take it?”

Rachel’s grin might have been tired, but she dredged up a ghost of this morning’s sass. He needed to understand what kind of town he’d moved to.

“Not in this town. A man’s hat is sacred around these parts. All the establishments in town have their cowboy hat hooks.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“What can I get for you two?”
<< 1 ... 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 >>
На страницу:
13 из 15

Другие электронные книги автора Mary Sullivan