Читать книгу No Ordinary Joe - Michelle Celmer, Michelle Celmer - Страница 7

Reily Eckardt sat in the back of the Colorado State Police cruiser, palms sweaty, hands trembling, feeling sick down to her soul with dread. Since she’d left Montana three days ago it had been one disaster after another, but this time she had sunk just about as low as she could go.

First, in her excitement to make good time, she was pulled over for speeding as she crossed the border into Wyoming and had received a costly ticket for her carelessness. Then, halfway across the state, the water pump on her car blew and she’d had to spend the night while the part was ordered and replaced. She’d blown out a tire driving into Colorado, which turned into a four-hour fiasco that put her even further behind schedule and over budget, and she hadn’t gotten back on the road until nearly four-thirty in the afternoon. But the icing on her disaster cake hadn’t happened until she’d stopped at a gas station just off the highway around eight to grab a cup of coffee. She’d figured she could make up lost time by driving till midnight or so before stopping at a motel for the night. Bad move.

Apparently she’d been more tired than she had realized, or she wouldn’t have left her keys in the ignition when she ran inside. And when she’d walked back out, coffee in hand, no car.

The officer who had taken her statement opened the rear door of the cruiser and gestured for her to come out of the air-conditioned interior. She grabbed her purse and climbed out. The sun had dropped below the mountains and a gentle breeze moved the hot, dry air around her. “Did you find it?” she asked, her voice filled with hope and desperation.

He shook his head grimly. “We put an APB out on the plate, but nothing so far.”

Her stomach sank a little lower. It had been more than an hour since her car was stolen. Everything she owned in the world, including the money she had saved for the past two years for her new life in Nashville, had been in that car. Her clothes, her photos, her mom’s guitar… it was all gone. All that was left of her worldly possessions was her purse and the change from the fifty-dollar bill she’d grabbed from the stash in her suitcase before running inside.

How could she have been so careless?

“What do you think the chances are that it’ll turn up?” she asked him.

His grim expression was her answer. “You’ll probably want to file a claim with your insurance. Even if it’s recovered, I doubt it will be in one piece.”

The car was so old, it wasn’t insured for theft.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself against the wave of hopelessness and despair, fearing she might be sick right there in the parking lot. Yes, things seemed pretty bad, but life had taught her that they could always get worse. She would get through this and come out swinging. She always did.

She’d already called her cousin in Arkansas and told her she wouldn’t be stopping in for a visit. Sweetheart that Luann was, she’d offered Reily a place to crash for a few days. But as a divorcée on welfare with three small children to care for, she didn’t have the space or the money to be taking in destitute houseguests. Reily’s aunt barely got by on her Social Security so she was in no position to be loaning Reily the money to get to Nashville, and Reily refused to go running back to Montana with her tail between her legs. Besides, she was used to taking care of herself. She would get to Nashville, and she would make it big as a country singer. It just might take a little longer than she anticipated.

“Is there somewhere I can drop you, Miss Eckardt?” the officer asked.

Reily turned to him, really seeing him for the first time. He had a kind face and a paunch belly, and that middle-age softness where there had perhaps once been lean muscle. His name badge said he was Officer Phillip Jeffries, and though he’d probably told her that when he’d arrived on the scene, she had been too shaken to absorb much. Stepping out of the gas station to find the spot where she’d left her car empty had been without a doubt the most surreal experience of her life. Even now it was hard to believe it was really gone. But dwelling on her troubles wouldn’t solve them. She needed a plan of action. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

“You could give me a lift to the nearest town,” she told Officer Jeffries.

“That would be my hometown of Paradise, about five miles up the road.”

It’s not as if she had a whole lot of choice. Denver was two hours in the opposite direction. Besides, a small town would be cheaper than a big city. And a town called Paradise, small or not, would have to be pretty nice. “I don’t suppose Paradise has a women’s shelter or a YWCA?”

“Nope. But we’ve got the Sunrise Motel if you’re looking for cheap. Tell Roberta I sent you and she’ll put you up for twenty-five dollars.”

It was that or the gas station parking lot. “Sounds good to me.”

He let her back into the cruiser—the front passenger seat this time—then climbed into the driver’s seat.

“I don’t suppose you know if anyone in town is hiring,” she asked as he pulled back out onto the interstate.

He glanced over at her. “You planning on sticking around for a while?”

“I don’t have a choice. Everything I owned, every penny I’ve saved, was in that car. I have forty-eight dollars and fifty-two cents to my name. Unless my car is miraculously found, I need to make some money before I can go anywhere.”

“You don’t have any family who could help you out? Maybe wire you some cash? There’s a Western Union at the post office in town.”

She shook her head, the knot in her belly cinching tighter. “I’m pretty much on my own.”

As a state trooper he probably saw lots of people in bad situations. But that didn’t mean he would help her.

“What kind of job would you be looking for?” he asked.

“I can do pretty much anything I set my mind to. But most of my experience is in bartending and waitressing. And singing. And I have excellent references. You can run a background check or whatever it is that you do. I’ve never been in trouble with the law. And until two days ago, I never even had a parking ticket.”

He glanced her way and said with a grin, “I know.”

Of course he would have already checked to see if she had a criminal record or warrants against her.

He was quiet for a minute, then said, “I don’t make it a habit of rescuing strangers, but you seem like a nice girl and you’re in a pretty bad spot. How about if I take you by Joe’s Place? He can usually use an extra hand. And if he can’t, the diner at the opposite end of town might have a place for you.”

She was so relieved and grateful she could have wept. “You have no idea how much I would appreciate that. I’m so desperate, any job would be a blessing.”

“No promises,” he said.

“I understand. And thank you, Officer Jeffries.”

“Call me P.J.,” he said. “Despite thirty years as a state trooper, the folks in Paradise never did take to calling me ‘Officer.’ I guess that’s the problem with small towns.”

“I grew up in a small town, too. And I know just what you mean about people not taking you seriously.” Since she was ten she had wanted to be a country-western singer, but no one ever believed she would have the guts to go to Nashville. And when she’d finally worked up the courage and saved enough money to start over, even her best friend thought she would come crawling back a failure after a month or two. Which was why she just couldn’t go crawling back after only a few days. The town would never let her live it down.

P.J. turned off the highway onto a deserted, two-lane road bordered by farmland on one side and dense wilderness on the other.

“Is Paradise a tourist town?” she asked.

“Nah. We’re too far off the highway and too far from any of the good skiing spots. We’re mostly a farming community.”

It sounded a lot like her hometown in Montana. Which was exactly what she was trying to escape. A cosmic joke perhaps? But it was only temporary, she reminded herself again. She had the feeling she would be doing that a lot until she could get back on the road.

They drove another few miles, before the Sunrise Motel and RV Park came into view up on the left. It was a little run-down from age but it looked clean and well kept. She just hoped it was cheap. They hit a curve in the road, then it dipped and flattened out and Paradise popped up out of the landscape. The welcome sign boasted a population of 1,632.

“This is it,” P.J. said, driving past a row of neatly kept little houses and straight down Main Street into downtown, which couldn’t have been more than three blocks long. She was no architectural expert, but some of the buildings looked to be over one hundred years old. Like most old towns, some were recently renovated while others sagged in disrepair. But all in all, from what she could see in the waning light, it seemed like a nice little town.

It wasn’t Nashville, but it would do until she could make a few dollars and be back on her way.

Lou’s Diner occupied the first city block corner and across the road was Parson’s General Store. The next corner was home to a feed store and a thrift shop, and across the street were the post office and a dollar store. In between were small shops and professional offices, all closed for the day.

There were a few cars parked in front of the diner, but otherwise the street was deserted until they reached the opposite end of town. Across the street from the VFW hall was Joe’s Place, a massive log cabin–style building on the farthest corner of the business district. It was clearly the town hot spot. The street out front and the adjacent parking lot were packed with vehicles. Mostly pickup trucks and a few older-model cars, with a motorcycle or two in the mix.

“This is it,” P.J. said.

“It looks busy.”

“Joe does a good business. He took it over when his father, Joe Senior, passed three years ago.” P.J. pulled up and double-parked near the front door. “Used to be it wasn’t much more than the local watering hole, but Joe Junior took the insurance money his daddy left him and gave the place a complete overhaul. Smartest thing he ever did if you ask me.”

Country music blasted from inside the bar as P.J. and Reily got out of the cruiser. Butterflies danced in her belly in time with the beat as she followed P.J. to the door. He opened it for her, and what she saw inside took her breath away.

The interior was gorgeous. All rich wood and small-town charm. Booths lined both sides of one end of the room and tables filled the space between. The stage and wood-planked dance floor occupied the right side of the opposite end, and on the left wall was a massive and well-stocked bar with an enormous flat-screen television tuned to ESPN. From the walls hung a variety of vintage-looking signs and antique sports equipment and a collection of mounted animal heads. Though dead animals usually creeped her out, somehow it fit.

Joe Junior clearly had spared no expense when he renovated, and if the food was half as appealing as the atmosphere, it was no wonder it was so busy.

P.J. led her across the room to the bar and had her wait while he talked briefly to the bartender, a petite and energetic-looking woman. She gestured him through a door next to the bar. Reily assumed it was probably the kitchen.

She waited, pulse jumping in anticipation, watching as the waitresses hustled food and drink orders to their tables. If it was this busy on a Thursday night, she could only imagine how packed it would be on the weekends. Even if she could only get a position part-time, she could make a killing in tips.

P.J. reappeared a minute later, emerging from the back with a man Reily assumed was the owner.

P.J. gestured her over. “Reily, this is Joe Miller. Joe, this is Reily Eckardt, the woman I told you about.”

For some reason she had pictured the owner as older. In his forties or fifties at least. In reality he couldn’t have been much older than thirty. He was tall and slender, and attractive in a dark, brooding sort of way. He wore faded blue jeans, a black T-shirt with the bar logo and a deep scowl.

Uh-oh. He did not look happy to have been disturbed.

P.J. took Reily’s hand and shook it warmly. “I have to get back on patrol. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eckardt, and I hope everything works out for you. Hopefully I’ll be seeing you around. And of course if there’s any news about your car I’ll call you.”

There wouldn’t be, and they both knew it. It was long gone.

She smiled anyway and said, “Thank you, Officer.”

When he was gone, Joe Miller leaned against the edge of the bar and regarded her with a long, slow, assessing look, his dark eyes lacking even the slightest trace of warmth or friendliness. When he spoke, his voice was so low and deep she had to strain to hear him over the blare of the jukebox. “P.J. tells me you’ve hit hard times and you’re looking for temporary work here in town.”

Hard times was an understatement. “I’m pretty desperate, Mr. Miller. If you have any position at all I would be eternally grateful.”

“What kind of experience do you have?” he asked.

She had to lean in so close to hear him, she caught the scent of his aftershave. Old Spice, just like her father used to wear. It made him seem slightly less intimidating. “I’ve waitressed and tended bar for the past six years.”

“You’ve got references?”

“Of course. I had a résumé but it was stolen with my car.”

He grabbed a pen and an order tablet from behind the bar and handed it to her. “Write down the name and number of your most recent employer.”

She hesitated. The bar she’d worked at since she was eighteen was owned by her best friend’s father, Abe. Abe was the town gossip. If Joe called him, it would take five minutes flat before the entire city learned that she hadn’t made it to Nashville.

But she didn’t really have a choice, did she?

She wrote down the name and number and handed it back to him.

“How long were you planning to stay in town?” he asked.

Everything had happened so abruptly, she hadn’t had the chance to give it much thought. “I’m not exactly sure.”

“I need someone for at least six weeks. If you plan on hanging around for a week or two, then taking off, don’t even waste my time.”

Yeesh! The guy didn’t mince words, did he? “I need enough money for a bus ticket, plus first and last month’s rent in a new place once I get to Nashville. So I’m thinking six weeks at least, depending on how many hours you’re willing to work me.”

His tight-lipped nod said he was satisfied with her answer. He waved over the bartender.

“Lindy, this is Reily. She’s going to give you a hand while I make a phone call. Consider this your audition,” he told Reily, his expression suggesting that he fully expected her to blow it. Then he slipped through the door to the back. Not the warmest guy in the world, but she was in no position to complain if he was willing to even consider giving her a job. From what she’d seen of the diner, even if they were hiring, the tips would be nothing compared to this place.

Lindy handed Reily an apron. “You don’t look familiar. Are you from town?”

Reily secured the apron around her waist. “Just passing through, hoping for temporary work to get me to Tennessee.”

“And you chose this hole-in-the-wall town? Why not Denver?”

“I actually hadn’t planned to stop at all, but my car was stolen from the gas station off the highway a few miles back. Everything I owned in the world was in it. Including my money.”

Lindy gasped and slapped a hand to her chest. “Oh, you poor thing! You lost everything?”

“Luckily I had my purse with me so I have my ID and my cell phone, but everything else is gone.”

“What about clothes?”

She looked down at the tank top, jeans and cowboy boots she was wearing. “You’re lookin’ at ‘em.”

“If you do end up staying in town awhile, I’m sure we can find someone your size who would be willing to donate some clothes.”

“That would be really awesome, because until I can make some money, staying is my only choice.”

“Well, I hope it works out here. Since our other bartender, Mark, busted his wrist Monday, it’s pretty much been just me and Rick, but he only works a few evenings a week. This weekend is going to be a nightmare, even with Joe behind the bar with me. It’s about time he hired me some help.”

It sounded as if Joe needed her as badly as she needed him. She mentally crossed her fingers that he would take pity on her.

Lindy pointed out the location of the things she would need, then they got to work taking orders and making drinks, tasks that were second nature to Reily. She chatted up the customers, using a bit of mild flirting when the circumstance necessitated it, finding everyone friendly and curious as to who she was. In the twenty-five or so minutes it took Joe to call on her references, she’d been welcomed to town by at least a dozen people. Paradise sure was a friendly place, and so far it was living up to its name.

Joe reappeared from the back and stepped behind the bar, his expression unreadable. Reily’s heart did a quick flip-flop. She hoped he liked what he had heard from Abe.

“So, how did she do?” he asked Lindy.

“She’s a natural. And it sounds like she could really use the job.” She flashed Reily a grin. “And I’m so desperate for help, she could be the devil incarnate and I would still want you to hire her.”

“Well, your references checked out,” Joe told Reily. He added with barely veiled exasperation, “Your old boss is quite the talker, isn’t he?”

Knowing Abe, he had probably relayed Reily’s entire life story. “Sorry about that. I hope he didn’t talk your ear off.”

“Close, but he had nothing but praise for your skills, so I guess you’re hired.”

The stress of the day seemed to drain away and a well of pure relief gushed up inside of her. “Thank you so much, Mr. Miller. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s Joe,” he said, but if he felt even a hint of satisfaction for more or less saving her life, it didn’t show. “You can start tomorrow. We open for lunch at eleven, but you’ll have some paperwork to fill out so be here no later than ten.”

“I will.”

“We’re open Monday through Thursday from eleven to ten, and Friday and Saturday till 2:00 a.m. We’re closed Sunday.”

“I’m available whenever you need me. The more hours the better.”

He nodded sharply, then turned and disappeared back through the door.

“I know what you’re probably thinking,” Lindy said, and Reily turned to her. “But he’s really a great guy once you get to know him.”

He could be the biggest jerk on the face of the planet and she wouldn’t care, as long as he was a fair and decent employer. Besides, it was temporary.

“Are you and he… together?”

Lindy laughed. “Definitely not. We’re just good friends. I’ve known Joe my whole life. And even if I was interested, he’s emotionally unavailable, if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” She’d dated a few guys just like him. They weren’t worth the heartache they inevitably caused.

She untied her apron and handed it back to Lindy. “Thanks for putting in a good word for me.”

“Here,” Lindy said, snatching two ten-dollar bills from the tip jar and pressing them into Reily’s hand.

“You don’t have to do that.” Reily tried to give them back, but Lindy shook her head.

“You earned it.”

Shelving her pride, she stuffed the bills into her back pocket. “Thank you.”

“Tomorrow we’ll see about getting you some clothes. I’m guessing you wear a medium in tops and a size five in pants.”

“How did you know?”

“I worked in the women’s department at the JC Penney in Denver when I was going to college. I know women’s fashion. If I ask around, or maybe pull a few strings at the thrift store, I can get you some clothes to hold you over.”

“I’m not the type to take a handout, but under the circumstances, I’ll take all the help I can get.” If the rest of Paradise was even half as nice as Lindy, this temporary detour might not be half-bad. Although she did have reservations about her new boss. She had never worked with anyone so… grumpy. Or maybe she just needed time to get to know him, and vice versa. He was cute enough, not that she was looking to hook up while she was in town. Her only goal was to make the money she needed to get to Nashville. If that meant hanging around this tiny town for six weeks, it was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make.