A Word With The Bachelor

She reached an arm in front of Jack and shook the sheriff’s hand. “Erin Riley.”

“Will Fletcher,” he said.

A beautiful blue-eyed redhead walked over to them and stopped on the other side of the bar. “If it isn’t Blackwater Lake’s famous author.”

“Hi, Delanie.”

The woman looked from Jack to Erin and waited expectantly. Apparently she got tired of waiting because she asked, “Who’s your friend?”

“Erin Riley.” He rested his forearms on the bar. “And we’re not friends.”

“Nice to meet you, Erin.” Delanie stared at Jack. “So, if you’re not friends, what are you?”

The silence grew as all of them stared at Jack, waiting for clarification. He finally shrugged and said, “That’s a good question.”

Erin jumped in. “I’m his research assistant.”

“Okay, then. What can I get you two?” Delanie asked. “Food? Drinks?”

“I’d like to see a menu, please. And a glass of chardonnay would be lovely.”

“You got it.” The woman grabbed two plastic-covered sheets containing the food choices and set them in front of her and Jack. Then she opened a bottle of white wine and poured a glass, putting it on a napkin in front of Erin. “Beer, Jack?”

“The usual.”

“How long have you been in town?” Sheriff Fletcher asked.

“A day. So far I haven’t seen much except the lake and marina. And Main Street. But Blackwater Lake is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”

“Where are you from?” Delanie used a rag to wipe nonexistent spots from the bar.

“Phoenix.” The bar owner and the sheriff were nodding as if that explained a lot. “Don’t judge. There’s a beauty in the Arizona desert, too, it’s just different. I actually haven’t done much traveling, though, but I’ve always wanted to.”

“So, you’re a research assistant?” Sitting at the bar, the sheriff leaned his forearms on the edge of the oak. “Is that a permanent arrangement?”

Erin looked at Jack and he didn’t seem inclined to answer so she was forced to wing it. “Not permanent. Just for the book in progress. I freelance and in between assignments I work as a substitute high school English teacher.”

“So you’re overqualified to read that menu,” Jack said.

She got his point. He was hungry and wanted to get this over with. After scanning the list of options she said, “I’d like a club sandwich and side salad.”

Jack never even looked at the choices. “Burger and fries.”

“Coming right up,” Delanie said, then disappeared in the back.

The sheriff stood and dropped some bills on the bar. “Good to see you, Jack. Don’t be a stranger. Welcome, Erin. I hope you enjoy your stay here in Blackwater Lake. It is a pretty place. Take it from me. I left for a lot of years, but couldn’t stay away. There are good people here.”

“I look forward to meeting them.”

“What’s your hurry, Sheriff?” Jack hadn’t been particularly social so the question was unexpected.

“I have paperwork to finish up at the office. Then I’m taking April out to dinner.”

“Is that your wife?” Erin asked.

“Fiancée.” Will Fletcher’s rugged features softened when he smiled. “But us getting married is long overdue. We’re making plans to rectify that. Can’t be soon enough for me.”

“Congratulations,” she said.

“Thanks. Good luck with the book, Jack.”

Erin had a feeling she was the one who needed luck helping Jack with the manuscript. His cooperation would be a good place to start. “He seems nice.”

“I suppose.”

“He said people are friendly. Have you met a lot of folks since you’ve been here?”

“No.”

“Have you made an effort?”

“No.”

“I’m going out on a limb here and say that everyone you’ve become acquainted with has been a customer here at Bar None.”

There was a challenge in his eyes when he met her gaze. “So?”

“Have you ever heard the saying that ‘no man is an island’? You have to reach out and meet people halfway. On top of that, writing doesn’t happen in a vacuum. You have to fill up the creative well. That happens with experiences and to have those, being sociable helps.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” she said.

“And, Erin?”

“Yes?”

“It occurs to me that the armed forces of the United States don’t need to stockpile weapons. All the brass needs to do is turn you loose on the enemy to talk them to death.”

She wondered whether or not to be offended by that, then decided one of them needed to be an optimist. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

* * *

The morning after taking her to town, Jack went upstairs to his office, leaving Erin in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast. She was a good cook. If his editor ever spoke to him again he’d have to thank her for that. The omelet, fruit, toast and coffee was the best morning meal he’d had in a long time. Whatever he threw together was maybe one step above the army’s MREs—meals ready to eat.

He turned on his laptop and opened the file “Mac Daniels,” which was the name of his ex-army ranger, Special Forces hero. After reading through the pages he’d written, he said, “This sucks.”

If the pages had been printed out, he’d have wadded them up and tossed the balls of paper across the room. They weren’t and he deleted them. Right now he’d take a black ops mission over this. But army rangers never quit and he was literally on borrowed time with this project. After he’d left the military and his wife left him, he’d been pretty sure that being a soldier was the only thing he was good at.