Promise Canyon
Page 39
"I don't know where he went, but he should have his cell phone. Want me to call? Tell him you're here?"
Lilly shook her head. "Maybe if he's not back in an hour or so. For right now I just need to see Blue. I'll take her out for a ride and when I get back, Clay will probably be here." She laughed a bit ruefully. "Here's how crazy that man made me--I was going to give up everything I love because I was too mad at him to listen to his explanations. I never thought I was that unreasonable."
"You must have had a reason...."
"Sure I did--I was scared to death! I didn't think I could bear it if the whole thing went south. There was a part of me that thought it would be easier to run for my life!" She shook her head and shrugged. "I think when you love someone, it can make you lose your mind."
Annie smiled at her. "Well, it seems like you found it." She hugged her. "Welcome home."
Jack Sheridan was behind the bar when Denny came in. He gave him a friendly smile. Jack had to give him credit--the kid was pretty smart. He didn't make himself too obvious around the home property--he got out in the morning, went job hunting, dropped by the bar for dinner and insisted on paying for his meals. Jack was sure Denny made it a point not to impose. Frankly, he liked him...liked having him around.
"How'd the job search go today?" Jack asked.
"Not bad. Filled out a lot of applications, met a lot of nice people. To tell the truth, I could take a simple job to tide me over while I look for something better, but I'm afraid it might cut into my searching time. How about a beer, sir?"
"Sir?" Jack laughed. He poured a fresh draft for his new friend. "What kind of jobs, just out of curiosity?"
Denny accepted his beer. "Well, there's a private school over in Redway that needs to replace its custodian and fortunately the old guy is still there, so he could give me some tips and training. Not that the Marine Corps didn't give me some fine tips on getting things straight--I just don't feel like using a toothbrush on floor tiles, if you get my drift. Thing is, it's minimum wage and full-time--when would I look for something better? And I wouldn't want to take the job and have them count on me, only to leave them in the lurch the second something better comes along. There are lots of jobs like that--good, hard, solid work that can't pay the rent." Then he grinned. "I realize I have a break right now and it totally embarrasses me that you won't take rent money, but I do have to think ahead. If the police or fire departments were hiring, I'd qualify and I guarantee you I'd pass their exams and do great in their academies, but..." He shrugged.
"You might have to take a minimum wage job till this economy picks up a little. Hardly anyone's hiring," Jack said. He lifted his coffee cup. He was starting to really like this kid. He liked the way the kid handled life. Liked his attitude.
"Yeah, I know," Denny said. "But I'm holding out for the best low-paying job I can find before I settle in. But I have to say, my friend was right about this part of the world--very pretty. And the people are nice. Friendly." He lifted his beer toward Jack. "Very accommodating. Especially you!"
"I got in a little trouble for that--offering up the guesthouse without even seeing your ID."
"Oh, really?" Denny asked with round eyes. He went for his back pocket.
"Nah, we're fine now. I guess Mel is right, I should at least check a person out before letting them on the property."
Denny pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. "Seriously, she's right! You should be sure about who you're letting hang around your house and your family! Even if I am in a separate building. I mean, I don't want any trouble with Mel. She's so nice and all--"
Jack put a hand over the boy's wrist. "It's okay, Denny. We're square. She's fine about it now."
"But look at it, Jack. Huh?" he asked, pushing the ID toward him. "That's me, my face, my San Diego address, which I moved out of so I guess it's not really my address anymore, but..."
"What about your mail?" Jack asked.
"General Delivery," he said with a shrug. He grinned boyishly. "If the Marine Corps has trouble finding me, I'm okay with that!"
"Done with that, are you?" Jack asked.
"Oh, man--I am so done."
Jack stepped back from the bar, chuckling. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
At that moment, the sound of tinkling glass emerged from the bar and the floor began to vibrate. Jack felt as if he was off balance, as if the earth moved beneath his feet. Liquor bottles on the shelf danced around; one fell. Glasses began to tumble off the shelf.
"Jack!" Denny yelled. Then the kid put a foot on his barstool, leaped over the bar and pushed Jack down, hovering over him, protecting him. He started to move him out of the bar area. "Get away from this glass! Hurry! Crawl! Front of the bar--come on!"
Despite the uneven feeling of the floor beneath him, Jack moved to the end of the bar, and not a moment too soon. Bottle after bottle smashed to the floor, glass flying, liquor splashing. In just seconds they were at the front of the bar, sitting under the overhang. The shaking went on and on; it seemed to last forever and the breakage continued. Then the vibration slowed to a stop.
From where Jack crouched he could see that the two men who'd been sitting at a table by the door had abandoned their beers and fled the bar.
"Whoa," Jack said, trying to stand, but his balance was still impaired.
"Yeah, don't stand up too fast. I grew up in earthquake country. It screws up your equilibrium for a while."
"How'd you get over the bar like that? With everything shaking?" Jack asked.
"I dunno," Denny said. "I saw a couple of bottles go and knew about fifty more would follow and I knew you had to get out of there. No offense, but you had a kind of dumb look on your face, like you weren't sure what was going on."
Jack pointed a finger at Denny. "Do not tell anyone that!"
Denny put his hands up, palms toward Jack. "Absolutely not! But really, I didn't want you to fall and end up crawling out of there on top of shattered glass."
"Thanks." Jack sniffed. He looked at his young friend. "Really smells like a bar now, doesn't it?"
There was a loud bang and a shout as Preacher hit the swinging door and blasted through it from the kitchen. "Jack!"
"Yeah, we're fine," he said, slowly leaning over the bar to get a glimpse of the mess. "Paige and the kids?"
"I checked them first. They're okay. Mel?"
"She's at the clinic with the kids. I gotta get over there." He turned to Denny. "Stay here, will you, buddy? Help Preach with anything he needs? I'll be right back."
"Sure," the kid said, standing up slowly. He peered over the bar. "I'll get a broom and trash can. Lotta glass back there."
"I'll be back to help in a bit." Jack looked over the bar. "Um, you're gonna need a shovel."
Mel and the kids were outside by the swing set when the earthquake hit. She had huddled with them on the ground, so they were fine. Cameron had been in the clinic and reported a couple of broken glasses that had fallen from the kitchen counter to the floor, but that was all.
"The bar's a disaster," Jack told Mel. "I don't want you or the kids over there--it's covered in glass. Denny happened to be there, having a beer--he's going to help us with the cleanup."
"We'll button things down here, but I think Cameron and I will have to wait here for a while, see if anyone calls with an injury. What will I do with the kids if that happens?"
"Preacher's place is stable, just not the bar. I'll check with Paige and let you know. In the meantime, if you need me, I'll come over here." He leaned forward and gave her a kiss. "That kid, Denny--he jumped over the bar and pushed me out of the line of falling bottles."
She tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow. "Good boy," she said. "I guess behind the bar isn't a good place to be during an earthquake."
"I'm going to have to think about that when we get around to repairs. Some kind of guardrail for the bottles and glasses."
There was very little damage in the kitchen; Preacher was fastidious about having dishes put away unless he happened to be creating. There were only a couple of bowls and platters on the work island. He had a big pot of soup on the stove top and as soon as the shaking started, he slid it into the sink where it was safe from falling and burning him. All they lost was one large mixing bowl.
By the time Jack got back from the clinic, Denny already had a large trash can at the end of the bar and was scooping up broken bottles with a flat-edged snow shovel. Preacher had donned his thigh-high fishing waders and was standing in a cleared space behind the bar, moving bottles and glasses off the shelves, putting what he could in closed cupboards, ready for aftershocks that could be as bad as the first earthquake.
"Good idea, Preach," Jack said. "We'd better tape those cupboard doors shut for the time being."
Jack went to the back of the kitchen for an industrial-size broom and began to sweep glass and liquid toward Denny, where the younger man scooped it up with the shovel. A half hour of this work saw them with a lot of cleanup left, but things were at least under control. When the door to the bar opened, Jack reflexively yelled, "Sorry--bar's closed."
"Jack," Buck Anderson yelled. "Lou's stupid old dually went off the road during the earthquake, right at that soft shoulder--same place the school bus went down a couple of years ago."
"He okay?"
"Split his lip on the steering wheel, but he got out and climbed back up to the road. Thing is, that dually is about all the guy has. That oughta teach him to put all his money in a fancy truck."
"How badly wrecked is it?"
"Looks to be in one piece," Buck said. "If it doesn't slide any farther down the slope. How long you reckon it'll take to get a tow out here?"
"Why wait for a tow? Let me see what Paul has available. We'll go out there--maybe we can pull him up."
"Wouldn't blame you if you let it just slide down the hill," Buck said. "Lou hasn't exactly been a pal to you lately."
Jack rinsed the grit and liquor off his hands, dried them on a handy towel and just shrugged. "I think we better try to get out there before someone drives past that soft shoulder, slips down and lands on top of that truck. Denny? Want to lend a hand?"
"You bet!"
They locked the bar door on their way out so no one would get inside and hurt themselves on the broken glass. It only took a half hour to find a bunch of guys to help and one of Paul Haggerty's biggest trucks. Paul used heavy cable to attach the frame of the pickup to the back of his flatbed. It took a lot of doing; a lot of cable, big hooks, and Jack and Paul both had to rappel down the hill wearing safety harnesses to get it all attached. Once that was done, Paul drove the truck slowly as far across the road as possible, inching that big pickup up the hill. When it was about twenty feet from the road, Jack worked his way down the slope to it, got in and revved up the engine. The dual rear tires were powerful, caught traction and began to slowly climb up the hill. When it cleared the surface of the road, all the men standing around cheered.
Jack got out of the truck. "There's a time those dual tires make a difference," he said. Then he touched his lower lip as he looked at Lou. "If you're fine to drive, I suggest you show that split lip to Cameron, see if it could use a couple of stitches."
"Aw, I don't need no stitches," Lou said.
Jack grinned at him. "Yeah, I guess you can't get much uglier."
"You coulda just left me down there, Jack. I mean, the truck. Left me to wait for a tow."
Lilly shook her head. "Maybe if he's not back in an hour or so. For right now I just need to see Blue. I'll take her out for a ride and when I get back, Clay will probably be here." She laughed a bit ruefully. "Here's how crazy that man made me--I was going to give up everything I love because I was too mad at him to listen to his explanations. I never thought I was that unreasonable."
"You must have had a reason...."
"Sure I did--I was scared to death! I didn't think I could bear it if the whole thing went south. There was a part of me that thought it would be easier to run for my life!" She shook her head and shrugged. "I think when you love someone, it can make you lose your mind."
Annie smiled at her. "Well, it seems like you found it." She hugged her. "Welcome home."
Jack Sheridan was behind the bar when Denny came in. He gave him a friendly smile. Jack had to give him credit--the kid was pretty smart. He didn't make himself too obvious around the home property--he got out in the morning, went job hunting, dropped by the bar for dinner and insisted on paying for his meals. Jack was sure Denny made it a point not to impose. Frankly, he liked him...liked having him around.
"How'd the job search go today?" Jack asked.
"Not bad. Filled out a lot of applications, met a lot of nice people. To tell the truth, I could take a simple job to tide me over while I look for something better, but I'm afraid it might cut into my searching time. How about a beer, sir?"
"Sir?" Jack laughed. He poured a fresh draft for his new friend. "What kind of jobs, just out of curiosity?"
Denny accepted his beer. "Well, there's a private school over in Redway that needs to replace its custodian and fortunately the old guy is still there, so he could give me some tips and training. Not that the Marine Corps didn't give me some fine tips on getting things straight--I just don't feel like using a toothbrush on floor tiles, if you get my drift. Thing is, it's minimum wage and full-time--when would I look for something better? And I wouldn't want to take the job and have them count on me, only to leave them in the lurch the second something better comes along. There are lots of jobs like that--good, hard, solid work that can't pay the rent." Then he grinned. "I realize I have a break right now and it totally embarrasses me that you won't take rent money, but I do have to think ahead. If the police or fire departments were hiring, I'd qualify and I guarantee you I'd pass their exams and do great in their academies, but..." He shrugged.
"You might have to take a minimum wage job till this economy picks up a little. Hardly anyone's hiring," Jack said. He lifted his coffee cup. He was starting to really like this kid. He liked the way the kid handled life. Liked his attitude.
"Yeah, I know," Denny said. "But I'm holding out for the best low-paying job I can find before I settle in. But I have to say, my friend was right about this part of the world--very pretty. And the people are nice. Friendly." He lifted his beer toward Jack. "Very accommodating. Especially you!"
"I got in a little trouble for that--offering up the guesthouse without even seeing your ID."
"Oh, really?" Denny asked with round eyes. He went for his back pocket.
"Nah, we're fine now. I guess Mel is right, I should at least check a person out before letting them on the property."
Denny pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. "Seriously, she's right! You should be sure about who you're letting hang around your house and your family! Even if I am in a separate building. I mean, I don't want any trouble with Mel. She's so nice and all--"
Jack put a hand over the boy's wrist. "It's okay, Denny. We're square. She's fine about it now."
"But look at it, Jack. Huh?" he asked, pushing the ID toward him. "That's me, my face, my San Diego address, which I moved out of so I guess it's not really my address anymore, but..."
"What about your mail?" Jack asked.
"General Delivery," he said with a shrug. He grinned boyishly. "If the Marine Corps has trouble finding me, I'm okay with that!"
"Done with that, are you?" Jack asked.
"Oh, man--I am so done."
Jack stepped back from the bar, chuckling. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
At that moment, the sound of tinkling glass emerged from the bar and the floor began to vibrate. Jack felt as if he was off balance, as if the earth moved beneath his feet. Liquor bottles on the shelf danced around; one fell. Glasses began to tumble off the shelf.
"Jack!" Denny yelled. Then the kid put a foot on his barstool, leaped over the bar and pushed Jack down, hovering over him, protecting him. He started to move him out of the bar area. "Get away from this glass! Hurry! Crawl! Front of the bar--come on!"
Despite the uneven feeling of the floor beneath him, Jack moved to the end of the bar, and not a moment too soon. Bottle after bottle smashed to the floor, glass flying, liquor splashing. In just seconds they were at the front of the bar, sitting under the overhang. The shaking went on and on; it seemed to last forever and the breakage continued. Then the vibration slowed to a stop.
From where Jack crouched he could see that the two men who'd been sitting at a table by the door had abandoned their beers and fled the bar.
"Whoa," Jack said, trying to stand, but his balance was still impaired.
"Yeah, don't stand up too fast. I grew up in earthquake country. It screws up your equilibrium for a while."
"How'd you get over the bar like that? With everything shaking?" Jack asked.
"I dunno," Denny said. "I saw a couple of bottles go and knew about fifty more would follow and I knew you had to get out of there. No offense, but you had a kind of dumb look on your face, like you weren't sure what was going on."
Jack pointed a finger at Denny. "Do not tell anyone that!"
Denny put his hands up, palms toward Jack. "Absolutely not! But really, I didn't want you to fall and end up crawling out of there on top of shattered glass."
"Thanks." Jack sniffed. He looked at his young friend. "Really smells like a bar now, doesn't it?"
There was a loud bang and a shout as Preacher hit the swinging door and blasted through it from the kitchen. "Jack!"
"Yeah, we're fine," he said, slowly leaning over the bar to get a glimpse of the mess. "Paige and the kids?"
"I checked them first. They're okay. Mel?"
"She's at the clinic with the kids. I gotta get over there." He turned to Denny. "Stay here, will you, buddy? Help Preach with anything he needs? I'll be right back."
"Sure," the kid said, standing up slowly. He peered over the bar. "I'll get a broom and trash can. Lotta glass back there."
"I'll be back to help in a bit." Jack looked over the bar. "Um, you're gonna need a shovel."
Mel and the kids were outside by the swing set when the earthquake hit. She had huddled with them on the ground, so they were fine. Cameron had been in the clinic and reported a couple of broken glasses that had fallen from the kitchen counter to the floor, but that was all.
"The bar's a disaster," Jack told Mel. "I don't want you or the kids over there--it's covered in glass. Denny happened to be there, having a beer--he's going to help us with the cleanup."
"We'll button things down here, but I think Cameron and I will have to wait here for a while, see if anyone calls with an injury. What will I do with the kids if that happens?"
"Preacher's place is stable, just not the bar. I'll check with Paige and let you know. In the meantime, if you need me, I'll come over here." He leaned forward and gave her a kiss. "That kid, Denny--he jumped over the bar and pushed me out of the line of falling bottles."
She tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow. "Good boy," she said. "I guess behind the bar isn't a good place to be during an earthquake."
"I'm going to have to think about that when we get around to repairs. Some kind of guardrail for the bottles and glasses."
There was very little damage in the kitchen; Preacher was fastidious about having dishes put away unless he happened to be creating. There were only a couple of bowls and platters on the work island. He had a big pot of soup on the stove top and as soon as the shaking started, he slid it into the sink where it was safe from falling and burning him. All they lost was one large mixing bowl.
By the time Jack got back from the clinic, Denny already had a large trash can at the end of the bar and was scooping up broken bottles with a flat-edged snow shovel. Preacher had donned his thigh-high fishing waders and was standing in a cleared space behind the bar, moving bottles and glasses off the shelves, putting what he could in closed cupboards, ready for aftershocks that could be as bad as the first earthquake.
"Good idea, Preach," Jack said. "We'd better tape those cupboard doors shut for the time being."
Jack went to the back of the kitchen for an industrial-size broom and began to sweep glass and liquid toward Denny, where the younger man scooped it up with the shovel. A half hour of this work saw them with a lot of cleanup left, but things were at least under control. When the door to the bar opened, Jack reflexively yelled, "Sorry--bar's closed."
"Jack," Buck Anderson yelled. "Lou's stupid old dually went off the road during the earthquake, right at that soft shoulder--same place the school bus went down a couple of years ago."
"He okay?"
"Split his lip on the steering wheel, but he got out and climbed back up to the road. Thing is, that dually is about all the guy has. That oughta teach him to put all his money in a fancy truck."
"How badly wrecked is it?"
"Looks to be in one piece," Buck said. "If it doesn't slide any farther down the slope. How long you reckon it'll take to get a tow out here?"
"Why wait for a tow? Let me see what Paul has available. We'll go out there--maybe we can pull him up."
"Wouldn't blame you if you let it just slide down the hill," Buck said. "Lou hasn't exactly been a pal to you lately."
Jack rinsed the grit and liquor off his hands, dried them on a handy towel and just shrugged. "I think we better try to get out there before someone drives past that soft shoulder, slips down and lands on top of that truck. Denny? Want to lend a hand?"
"You bet!"
They locked the bar door on their way out so no one would get inside and hurt themselves on the broken glass. It only took a half hour to find a bunch of guys to help and one of Paul Haggerty's biggest trucks. Paul used heavy cable to attach the frame of the pickup to the back of his flatbed. It took a lot of doing; a lot of cable, big hooks, and Jack and Paul both had to rappel down the hill wearing safety harnesses to get it all attached. Once that was done, Paul drove the truck slowly as far across the road as possible, inching that big pickup up the hill. When it was about twenty feet from the road, Jack worked his way down the slope to it, got in and revved up the engine. The dual rear tires were powerful, caught traction and began to slowly climb up the hill. When it cleared the surface of the road, all the men standing around cheered.
Jack got out of the truck. "There's a time those dual tires make a difference," he said. Then he touched his lower lip as he looked at Lou. "If you're fine to drive, I suggest you show that split lip to Cameron, see if it could use a couple of stitches."
"Aw, I don't need no stitches," Lou said.
Jack grinned at him. "Yeah, I guess you can't get much uglier."
"You coulda just left me down there, Jack. I mean, the truck. Left me to wait for a tow."
