Small-Town Heart Page 2

  Once we pulled up to her cute little bungalow-style house, I was reminded of the places my friends lived in, growing up. A bit of nostalgia tugged at my heart as I remembered summers playing in the sprinklers and sleepovers with friends. With a bountiful garden of bright flowers, yard art, and a bright red front door, Vera’s home was exactly like her—inviting, bold, and a bit quirky.

  After a quick tour of the house, Vera led me to the restroom where I stripped off my day-old clothes and indulged in a long hot shower using all of Vera’s fancy body scrubs, gels, and masks. After my shower, I was greeted with a margarita and a plate of delicious tacos. Vera is the ultimate hostess, and I’m grateful for her hospitality.

  When I woke this morning with a slight headache, I wanted to blame it on sleeping in a strange bed or not having my own pillows. But I couldn’t do that. Sleeping on the bed in Vera’s guest room was more like sleeping on a cloud. Or, what I’d expect a cloud felt like. Nope, the headache is likely thanks to the pitchers of margaritas and debate over Team Edward or Team Jacob. Honestly, I had never seen the movies, so I just went with Jacob because that actor is smoking hot. Now. Not then. Then he was a child in the most unfortunate wig. But now, in real time, he should be modeling those abs he sports. I’m not saying following celebrities on social media is a secret guilty pleasure of mine but if it was, I may have some personal knowledge of those abs.

  Once I’ve sucked down twice as many cups of my morning coffee as usual, I get ready for our trip to town. Vera doesn’t bother with the radio during our short drive. Instead, she fills the quiet with commentary on the townsfolk and an update on her cook. She assures me there’s plenty of time for me to check in with Earl before The Mess Hall is busy. Parting at the front of The Mess Hall, I head down the street toward Earl’s shop sending up a little prayer he has good news for me.

  I’m standing here, watching Earl flip pages in a catalog, tap on his computer, and then sigh dramatically for about twenty minutes now. Sure, he greeted me with a smile and offered me a bottled water when I first arrived. Other than that, though, he’s been engrossed in whatever research he’s doing.

  “Umm, excuse me, Earl?”

  Another sigh followed by a grunt is his response. Well, alrighty then. Admitting defeat, I take a seat on one of the red vinyl chairs against the large plate glass window to wait. Looking around the waiting area, a million redecorating ideas run through my mind. The space is a little dated, and while I’m no computer whiz, even I know his computer with the apple on it is pricey. That tells me there’s at least some funds available to give this place a facelift. If I were Earl, I’d replace the cracked and peeling linoleum with something more durable and of this century, add some color to the wall behind the counter, and for all that is holy, reupholster these chairs.

  I’m mentally ticking off the simple steps Earl can take to modernize this room when he clears his throat and catches my attention. Still not speaking to me, he motions for me to join him at the counter. The look on his face does not fill me with confidence. Maybe I’ll be lucky and there’ll be a bus, or someone headed to Austin to catch a ride with. I have a feeling Gerty and I are about to part ways.

  “Just give it to me straight, Earl. I’m ready.” I’m not.

  “Miss Mercy, your car”—he pauses—“well, she’s about had it in this life.”

  “I thought you might say that.” I’m devastated and freaked the hell out. Gerty has been a constant in my life and knowing I’m not going to drive out of this town with her guts me. The reality I won’t drive out of here is just the shitty bonus to bring on the waterworks. Figures.

  Sniffling, I say, “Thank you for taking the time. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” I turn on my heel to walk away when I hear him mutter a few swear words under his breath.

  “Now, don’t get ahead of yourself. I said about had it. I can fix her for ya. That is, if you’d rather put money into her instead of a new vehicle.” Turning quickly, my eyes widen and a loud squeal escapes. My reaction is emphasized by the echo through the room, but I don’t care as I invade Earl’s space and throw myself in his arms.

  “Yes! I mean, of course I’d love a new car, but I’m broke as fu—heck,” I say sheepishly, causing Earl to laugh. “I don’t have a lot of money so please make my day and tell me this won’t cost me a fortune.” I know Earl isn’t in control of the cost of the parts, but I’m hoping his friendship with Vera and his small-town manners will work in my favor.

  “Well, it’s just that the parts I need are on backorder. This particular make and model were quite popular back in the day, but for some reason, it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to get what I need for a few weeks. And,” he says, scratching his scruffy beard and looking out the window. “That works well for me, I was plannin’ on being closed a few days as it is.”

  My heart thumps in my chest like a marching band. Weeks? What will I do without a car for weeks? I can’t stay here, I need to move on and start my life. I come back to the idea of finding a bus route or hitching a ride with someone heading to Austin. I can find work and simply return for Gerty when she’s ready. “Let’s get to it, Earl. Numbers. Tell me what I need.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, I wait for him to toss out a number and pray it doesn’t hold a comma in the amount. “The parts themselves are about a grand.” A grand. One. Thousand. Dollars. That’s a comma. Why couldn’t he say a few hundred? That would be my emergency fund, but this is one of the reasons I have it.

  One thousand dollars is going to take almost everything I had set aside to live off of until I can find a job. I was already planning a life fueled by Ramen and cheap cereal just to get by.

  When Earl turns his gaze back at me, I’m faced with a look I can’t quite decipher. Sympathy or sorrow, I’m not sure. Regardless, I have a bad feeling. “And, well, the labor would normally just about match that price.”

  My heart begins to race, and my eyes start to fill with tears. I cannot afford that. Two thousand dollars will take everything I have. Not only my emergency fund but my entire bank account. His next words pull me from my slow building anxiety attack.

  “But, Vera is a friend, and she said I’m to extend you a little Fayhill family discount, so I’ll shave the labor down to two hundred.”

  That’s twelve hundred dollars. I’ll be far into the hole and need to find a cheap motel to stay in until I can start saving. “When you say a few weeks, are we talking fourteen days or fourteen weeks? I need to know, Earl.” My voice raises ten octaves, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the dogs in a ten-mile radius hear my shrill. “I’d garner to say about four.”

  “Four weeks!” I shout before covering my mouth in horror. “Earl, I don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t stay here for a month and to fix Gerty will cost me almost all of my life savings. I need to get to Austin and find a job. A place to live.” The tears begin falling before I can fathom stopping them. Earl awkwardly pats my shoulder in sympathy and lets me cry for a few minutes.

  But self-pity isn’t in my DNA, so I put an end to my cryfest just short of the random catch of breath and runny nose before turning my attention back to Earl. “Let’s do it. If you can pull any strings and get me on the road sooner, or find the parts for less, I’d be really grateful.”

  Exiting the shop, I start my slow walk through town back to The Mess Hall. In my gut I know leaving town and making my way to Austin without a car, my rainy-day fund depleted, and no job isn’t the brightest idea. Maybe I can find the parts faster on the internet myself. You can find almost anything if you scour the web.

  As I approach the door to the diner, the “Help Wanted” sign catches my attention again. Formulating a quick plan, I open the door and grab the sign from the window before making a beeline to the counter where Vera is standing with a smile on her face.

  “Don’t get too excited. A month max. That’s max, Vera.” My tone leaves no room for discussion, but Vera’s wide grin still broadens as she laughs.

  “Sweet Mercy,
we’ll just see about that. How about a little room and board in exchange for an hourly wage and you keep the tips?”

  “Vera, you drive a hard bargain. You also keep this sign in the window in case someone looking for full-time work comes calling.”

  “Honey, I think someone just has. I have a feelin’ things are about to get really interesting around Fayhill,” Vera says, looking from me toward the door that signals a new arrival.

  I follow her gaze and my breath catches at the sight filling the door. Tall, dark hair, muscles that only come from working with your hands, and half-day scruff fills the doorway with the late morning sun casting an angelic haze behind him. The moment he catches my eye and smiles, exposing a dimple on his left cheek, I realize Vera’s right.

  Things are about to get really interesting.

  Chapter 4

  Composure is something I pride myself on. I am the go-to girl for “fake it ‘til you make it.” I’m always able to put a smile on my face and blend in with a crowd. It’s probably why I take to life in customer service, specifically waitressing. I can hop from table to table and make small talk with my customers, conforming to the situation.

  I was a cocktail waitress in a large bar in a small town for almost two years. Country Road is a town staple in Lexington and the regulars become friends more than customers after a while. We had our share of out-of-towners, and I spent a lot of time laughing and flirting with good-looking men. But, right now? Standing here with this damn “Help Wanted” sign in my hand, I’m speechless. Well, except for the “wow” I just whispered.

  Although, by the snickers from the gentleman at the counter, it wasn’t much of a whisper. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome tips the brim of his cowboy hat in my direction before removing it and making his way to a group of men in a corner booth. I follow his movements with my eyes, and because I love to tease myself, I allow my eyes to drop to the way his ass fills out a pair of jeans.

  Glorious.

  “Sweetie, I could use some help with this crowd. Feel like grabbing an apron?”

  I turn to Vera standing to my side with a pot of coffee in her hand and a large smile lighting her face. My eyes blink repeatedly, and I have yet to respond when she simply shakes her head and walks away from me. I must have left my composure in Gerty’s trunk because this is so not me.

  After getting my act together and putting on an apron, I manage to help Vera through the morning rush and into the pre-lunch preparations. I introduce myself to Sam, the cook, and I know within minutes he and I are going to be fast friends. I also think he’s a little sweet on Miss Vera, but she’ll neither confirm nor deny. Thankfully, I don’t have to serve the handsome cowboy and his table of friends—yes, also handsome cowboys—and he leaves before the awkward version of myself reappears.

  Once the breakfast crowd disperses, Vera forces me to take a break before the lunch rush starts, completely against my will, yet here I sit. I check my phone for missed calls and messages and don’t have any. That says a lot about how I’ve lived my life the last few years. I’ve had friendships, but none that are close enough for anyone to check on me. That’s a sad realization. My mom and I talk once a week on Thursdays but since I just left her house a few days ago, I don’t expect to hear from her yet. I’m sure she’ll be entertained by my twist of fate and my being stuck here in Fayhill, considering my declarations of big city living goals just a few days ago.

  After finishing my early lunch of a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of Sam’s homemade tomato soup, I freshen up in the restroom before another shift with Vera. I will work all shifts to make sure I know how to open in the morning and close in the afternoons. I’ve offered to work evenings if she wants to extend hours for a while, but she says dinner time is for families, and she won’t stay open. Personally, I think Vera simply wants to have more Twilight marathons and drink tequila in the evenings.

  Looking into the mirror in the poorly lit restroom, I take in my appearance. My long blonde hair is still holding some resemblance of a braid down my back with the fallen pieces curling around my face from perspiration. I had foregone much makeup this morning and just applied a smidge of mascara and some gloss. No wonder hot cowboy only smiled and went about his business, I look like I just rolled out of bed. The volume of voices begins to filter through the walls, and I know break time is over. I’ll have to make do with this half-assed version of myself. Tomorrow I’ll put forth my usual efforts.

  “Wow, I wasn’t gone very long; what’s with the crowd?” I ask Sam as I’m walking past the kitchen.

  “It’s my tomato soup.” Sam’s tone leaves no room for discussion, and I turn to him with a look of confusion when he starts laughing. “I’m kidding. Nah, at least twice a week we have a huge lunch rush, and today must be one of those days. Usually, it’s a dull roar, but when you get that group of guys over there,” he says, motioning to a group of men sitting at a long row of tables pushed together, “plus the Jordan crew over there, it gets kind of loud. It’s strange for those fellas to hit us twice in one day.”

  “Jordan crew? And who are the men at that table?” I ask while reaching for my apron.

  “The Jordan Ranch is just outside of town. Great family, been in the area for decades. I think some of the guys were here this morning. Kind of a rowdy bunch when they’re all together but nice kids.” Sam’s cut short in our conversation when Vera taps the order bell a few times and tosses a glare our way. Ignoring her, he continues, “As for the other guys, military men. Fayhill has become somewhat of a refuge for retirees.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. I’ll make sure to thank them for their service. Thanks for the background. It helps me know what I’m walking into out there,” I reply before rushing out to help Vera with the growing lunch crowd.

  “Looks like the town heard of your arrival, sweets.” I pause mid-tie of my apron to look at Vera. “There’s no other reason for this lunch crowd. Plus, the handsome ranching cowboys don’t often come into town twice in the same day. I’d say the young men of Fayhill are interested in the new lady in town.” Her wink hovers on the verge of a weird twitch and if it weren’t for the smirk on her face, I’d be worried. “I’ll let you greet them while I take care of the too-hot-for-their-own-good military men over there,” she says, nodding to the other side of the room.

  I turn on my heel, facing the crowd of cowboys filling the corner booth for the second time today. All have their hats off, a few running their hands through their unruly hat hair while others are roughhousing in the booth. One man stands out as he shushes them to quiet while smacking one on the back of the head. It isn’t any of those men who hold my attention.

  Sitting with an arm casually strewn across the back of the booth, his dark brown hair is tousled from where he’s likely run his hand through it and he’s listening to the man next to him, a toothpick resting between his lips. His plump lips. Shit. Do not look at the hot cowboy’s lips.

  As I approach the booth, he barks out a hearty laugh and I do a little Kegel squeeze. Goodness. The closer I get to the table, the more I notice that damn dimple I saw earlier is dancing on his cheek beneath a light scruff. Double goodness.

  I’ve seen my share of hot guys. If there’s one thing guaranteed to be found in Lexington, it’s hot men. Hell, I worked with a few at Country Road. My boss, Taylor, being one of them. But this guy, he’s more than just attractive. When he turns his attention to me and our eyes connect, I slow my steps. His deep chocolate eyes widen before his smile grows and small lines blanket the side of each eye.

  I blink double time in response because, obviously, I’ve lost my composure. Again. He’s a composure stealer. Clearing my throat, I turn my attention to the other side of the booth and plaster on the biggest, and fakest, smile I’m able to muster.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can I grab Y’all to drink?” I’m all business. I’m not going to let sexy cowboy deter me from my work. I’m a professional, dammit. A professional liar because my heart is racing, my palms a
re a little sweaty, and I’m pretty sure he just smacked his buddy on the back of the head when he called me “sweetheart.”

  “Show some respect to the lady. We’ll all just have waters, thank you.”

  Tucking my pathetic and hypothetical tail between my legs, I rush away from the table to secure five waters before returning. I continue to pay more attention to the other men than the chocolate-eyed hottie as I take their orders. When it’s his turn to order, he pauses and smiles, his hands clasped on the menu in front of him.

  “I don’t think I caught your name.”

  “Probably not since I didn’t give it.” Okay, that was a little snarky but what can I say, this guy has me flustered.

  “Boys, this here is Mercy. Mercy, these are a few of the Jordan crew. And this young man using his manners, unlike these heathens, is Shane Abbott. Don’t let Shane give you a hard time; he’ll have a double cheeseburger with grilled onions, no pickles, and double order of fries. He orders the same thing every week. I’ll take the order to Sam, so you can better acquaint yourself.” Vera doesn’t offer me an opportunity to argue and snatches the order slip from my hand before putting it in the kitchen window.

  “Mercy.” He voice is deep, and his accent is slight but the way he says my name, slow as molasses flowing from the bottle, sends a shiver up my spine. “Tell me, Mercy, what brings you to Fayhill?” Something about him using my name twice in a conversation makes me feel more like he’s poking fun at me than showing interest.

  “Well, Shane, I had a little car trouble. I’m only here until Earl can fix Gerty, and then I’m back on the road.”

  “Well, sweetheart, if you’d like someone to show you around town, I’m free tonight.” The invitation comes from the young kid sitting next to Shane. I’d say he’s barely out of high school. Cute enough but a little young for me. I smile and shake my head in response.