Own the Night Page 9

  Alana breathed in deeply and glanced about at the dozen tables and mismatched chairs. In the far back were a pair of pool tables. The place was bigger than it looked from outside, but it was quite drab. “You said your business has improved since the Sundance opened?”

  “Better, but still so-so. Now if some of the other ranchers who are struggling decide to start taking in tourists, I expect I’d be able to breathe easier. Might have to fix up the place, though,” she said with a rueful smile. “Make it more female friendly, if you know what I mean. That is, if I can come up with the money.”

  “It shouldn’t cost too much,” Alana said, noticing the quaint mirror behind the bar that had a very Old West feel. “I could kick around some ideas with you, if you want. It’s what I do back in New York. I’m in advertising.”

  “I knew you were one of those smart career women.” Sadie grinned. “I could tell right off.” She pushed herself to her feet. “You’re on vacation and I don’t wanna ruin that, but if you got any ideas, I’d be eager to listen. In the meantime, best I get busy. That jukebox we were talking about is in back. I’ll scrape up some quarters from the till.”

  Alana had totally forgotten about the jukebox. Although she wouldn’t mind having a look at it, she didn’t like the idea of Sadie being on that bad leg. “What is it you have to do in order to open?”

  The older woman stopped at the massive mahogany bar and rested against it. “Wipe off tables that I should’ve taken care of last night, make sure I have enough clean glasses, cut up limes, that sort of thing. Why?”

  She shrugged. “I figured I could help.”

  Sadie regarded her with an element of shock. “Well, now, that I didn’t expect.”

  “Me, neither,” Alana said with a smile. Normally she was allergic to manual labor. That’s why she had a housekeeper come in twice a week. “Noah is working, and frankly, I don’t have anything else to do.” Okay, so she also hoped to find out more about the sheriff. But no one had to know that.

  “You’re gonna get your nice clothes dirty,” Sadie said, eyeing the navy blue slacks and high heels.

  “No, I won’t.” Alana picked up the bag with her new Levi’s and T-shirts. “You have a place where I can change?”

  Sadie stared at her for a long, silent moment, with keen eyes that seemed to see too much. “Head on back past the pool tables. You’ll see the ladies’ room door on the left.”

  Without another word, Alana did just that, hoping like hell she wouldn’t regret the gesture. But then, really, what was the worst that could happen?

  8

  IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON BEFORE Noah returned to his office feeling as if he hadn’t had a chance to breathe since breakfast. Half a dozen calls had him and Roy hopping from one ranch to the next. Roy should’ve had the day off after working last night, especially since he was on for Sunday. But Noah only had two other deputies—Danny, who was sick with the flu, and Gus, who worked part-time and was away for a few days.

  Typically, that would’ve been just fine. But with everyone jumpy because of the latest theft, normally rational folks were ready to pull the trigger if they saw a mouse dart across the barn floor. What a mess.

  As soon as the office door closed behind him, Noah yanked off his hat, tossed it on his desk and plowed his hands through his hair. After threatening to string up half the population of Salina County for being dimwits, he hoped the rest of the weekend was more peaceful. Of course, he still had Alana to deal with.

  He took a look at his watch and cursed. He’d asked Sadie to check up on her, but that had been almost three hours ago. There weren’t enough stores in Blackfoot Falls to keep Alana busy for that long. With all the thinking he’d done about her, the images that had intruded at the most inconvenient times, how had he let so much time go by?

  He scooped up his hat, set it back on his head and left the office without checking for messages. Though most everyone knew his cell number and didn’t hesitate to keep him on speed dial, even if it was only to rescue a cat that had climbed too high.

  On his way out the door, he tried calling his house, hoping she was there. No answer. He glanced down Main Street, shaking his head at all the tacky Halloween decorations. The Blackfoot Falls Betterment Committee, or so Louise, Mildred, Sylvia and the Lemon sisters called themselves, had gone all-out. They were even urging people from Cutter’s Crossing and Maryville to come to the festivities planned for next Friday night. Just what he needed. More strangers and mischievous kids traipsing around town while he tried to get a handle on the thefts.

  He didn’t bother checking Abe’s place. No way would Alana still be there, shooting the breeze with the usual Saturday crowd that drifted to the variety store after eating at the diner. They’d all be busting with curiosity and peppering her with questions. He had a hunch that wouldn’t turn out well…for anybody.

  The Watering Hole had already opened for business, and he figured Sadie would be his best bet to locate Alana. He just prayed she hadn’t skipped town. No, dammit, she wasn’t Moran’s suspect. Noah had already decided she was innocent. She’d spooked him for a minute last night, but he knew Dax had a bad habit of licking.

  It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the cool dimness of the bar. No sign of Alana. He hadn’t really expected to see her in a place like this, yet a part of him hoped he’d find her here and the damn tightening in his chest would ease.

  Sadie stood behind the bar, streaming beer from the tap into a pitcher. A husky young man Noah didn’t recognize, and who barely looked old enough to shave much less drink, sat across from her, a half-filled mug and a stack of quarters in front of him. In the back, a pair of Circle K hands glanced up from their game of pool and nodded to Noah. One of them was Sam Miller. Noah had run into the guy because a couple of pissed-off fathers had pulled shotguns on him. Seemed Sam had a way with the young ladies.

  “Afternoon, Sheriff.” Sadie set the pitcher on a tray, then wiped her hands on the towel draped over her shoulder. “You still on duty, or can I get you a beer on the house?”

  “Still on the clock.” He adjusted his hat and eyed her young customer, who gave Noah a nod before lowering his gaze to his badge.

  “Don’t you worry. I checked this fella’s ID.” Sadie chuckled. “He made it just under the wire.”

  Something about the kid struck him wrong. “You working at one of the ranches?” Noah asked him, keeping his tone casual, though nowadays a new face tended to make him edgy.

  “Yep. I started at the Gunderson place last month.” He shrugged a beefy shoulder, staring down into his glass. “Wasn’t until last week that I could legally come in here.”

  “Getting old ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, Tony,” Sadie said to him, then winked at Noah. “You looking for someone in particular?” she asked slyly.

  “You know where she is?”

  Tony used the back of his sleeve to wipe his mouth as he glanced toward the rear of the bar and the pool tables. The smile that crept onto his face wasn’t one Noah would like to see in a back alley fight.

  He looked around the room, but didn’t see Alana, and relaxed.

  Sadie’s grin was a whole other story. “She’s been helping out until Gretchen gets here.”

  Noah frowned. “Alana?”

  “Did someone call for me?” She came around the corner from the direction of the bathrooms, stopping abruptly when she saw Noah. She smoothed her hair with the back of her wrist, straightened her shoulders and then continued to walk toward him. “I hope you’re here to save me.”

  She wore a red T-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, the hem tucked into Levi’s that were rolled up above her ankles, and she was still wearing those high heels. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, though half the shiny brown strands hung loose, either curling around her face or clinging to her flushed cheeks.

  Noah stared, not generally prone to speechlessness, but what the hell? He felt as if he’d landed in one of
those parallel universes in a Syfy channel movie. The only coherent thought he could muster was that she’d look just like that right after sex.

  It took him a moment to work up enough saliva to swallow, to remind himself that he was the damn sheriff. “Save you from what?”

  She stopped on the other side of Tony and cocked her head at Sadie. “For your information, I will never do that again. Ever. But it’s done.” She frowned at the mug of beer sitting in front of Sadie. “That better not be yours, and you know why.”

  Sadie shoved the ale toward Alana. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. It’s for you. Figured you’d be thirsty by now.”

  Only when Alana peeled back a yellow rubber glove to check her watch did Noah even notice she was wearing gloves. “It’s barely afternoon.”

  “Ah, hell, live it up. You’re on vacation.”

  Alana let out an unladylike snort, then covered her mouth. “Yeah, right, some vacation.” She pulled off the gloves, rolled them up and ducked behind the bar as if she owned the place. She put them somewhere, then went to the sink, washed her hands and knew exactly where to find a towel. With arched brows, she eyed Noah. “Where have you been?”

  Even though he was looking at Alana, he could feel Sadie’s gaze burn a hole in the side of his face. She was likely waiting for his reaction to Alana’s bossy tone. “Working.”

  “Finding my purse and luggage?”

  “Not yet.”

  Her wince told him more than words could have. He didn’t blame her for being upset. Most people these days had their lives on their phones. A smartphone was like a personal assistant who held the keys to all the locks. But then she pursed her lush pink lips, which got an entirely different kind of reaction from him.

  Letting out a heartfelt sigh, she slid her hand into the front pocket of her Levi’s. “Here,” she said, holding out two twenty-dollar bills. “Abe didn’t give me a total, but when you settle up with him you can put this toward my purchases.”

  Noah stared at the money. “Where did you get that?”

  Sadie and Tony both chuckled.

  Alana glanced toward the back room. “I won it off Sam and Hector.”

  “Shooting pool?”

  She shrugged. “I warned them I was good.”

  “That she did,” Sadie agreed, animation taking ten years off her weary face. “Beat ’em in record time, too.”

  “Jesus, Sadie, how long you gonna rub our noses in it?” Sam hollered from the back.

  “Till I get good and tired,” she called in answer, and set two frosty mugs with the pitcher of beer before picking up the tray.

  Alana stopped her. “Why are you standing? It’s not necessary.” She pointed to a chair set behind the bar. “I’ll take this,” she said, and waited for Sadie to do as she was told before picking up the tray with both hands, not looking too steady as she carried it toward the back room.

  She had a nice sway to her hips, something Noah had noticed yesterday. Tony was showing his own obvious appreciation as he stared at her backside. Even though it was hard not to watch Alana walk all the way to the tables, Noah found himself wondering about this new kid. It was odd, now that he thought about it, that Gunderson had hired a hand when winter was coming on. As far as Noah knew, the ranch owner hadn’t fired anyone lately. On the other hand, the old buzzard was looking pretty haggard—probably more to do with drinking than working hard.

  Still, Noah would check with Cole and Jesse, see if they’d heard anything about this kid. He seemed earnest enough, but something was itching the back of Noah’s mind, and he’d learned from long years with the military police and the force in Chicago to listen to that itch.

  From her perch, Sadie planted her fists on the bar and leaned forward until she could see the pool tables. “You can tell she never had to waitress a day in her life.” She laughed quietly. “That one was born giving orders.”

  Odd that Sadie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she sounded like a proud mama. Of course, she more often than not resembled a drill sergeant herself.

  “The beer is on me, gentlemen,” Alana was saying at the back, lifting the pitcher and mugs off the tray and setting them on a table. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “Come on….” Sam took his shot, missed the pocket, cursed as he straightened. Casually pushing back his long blond hair, he used his cue stick to block her path. “You’re not leaving.”

  “I am.” With one finger she lifted the stick and moved it out of her way.

  He flashed her a cocky smile. “You gotta give us a chance to win back our money.”

  Alana laughed. “You can’t beat me. I’ll just take more of your paycheck.”

  Sam’s hopeful expression dimmed. “Hell, you’re probably right.” He cast a swift glance at Hector, who was smiling and shaking his head, letting him know he was on his own. “Let’s play for a buck,” Sam called after Alana when she started toward the bar.

  “Another time, maybe.”

  “Come on, sweetheart,” he drawled in that brash way of his. “You sure I can’t change your mind?”

  Her steps slowed. Judging by the piqued glint in her eyes, she didn’t like being called sweetheart. “Pretty sure,” she said drily.

  Oblivious to her sarcastic tone, Sam angled his head to the side and watched her walk the rest of the way toward Noah and Sadie.

  “I should take his last dime,” Alana murmured, and pulled another two twenties out of her pocket. “How much for the pitcher?”

  Sadie’s grin was a mile wide. “You keep it, sweetheart.”

  At Alana’s openmouthed indignation, Noah smiled.

  “You’re just a riot, Sadie.” She laid both bills on the bar. “Hope this covers it.”

  “They might get away with charging that much for a pitcher in New York. If I did that, I’d be out of business.”

  Alana left one twenty and pocketed the other. “Guess I should keep some just-in-case money on me.”

  “I wish you’d take this other one, too,” Sadie said. “After all the work you did around here, I should be paying you.”

  “You mean that?” The slightest of smiles lifted the corners of Alana’s lips.

  “I said it, didn’t I?”

  “Then keep your butt planted in that chair as much as possible and that’ll be my payment.” She touched Tony’s arm. “Are you going to be here awhile?”

  He nodded.

  “Remind her to take it easy, will you?”

  “I’ll do just that.” He leaned back to look at her, and dammit but there was something about the kid that bugged Noah.

  “Thank you.” With a strained smile, she moved her hand. “So, Sadie, when did you say Gretchen will be here?”

  “A couple of hours. Won’t start getting busy until after four.”

  Alana absently nodded, as if she had a hundred things swirling around in that head of hers, and then she looked at Noah. He was beginning to think she’d forgotten he was there. “I have to get my bags from behind the bar, but I’m ready.”

  “Sure thing, your highness.” He checked his watch for emphasis, not because he was on a schedule. “Take all the time you want.”

  Raising her brows, she moved her shoulder in a flippant shrug. “Fine. If I’m bothering you, I’ll stay here with Sadie.”

  “Get your bags.”

  She stared at him for a long, charged moment, the desire to tell him to go to hell plain in her eyes. Instead, she let out a long-suffering sigh. “I guess it doesn’t do to argue with the town sheriff.”

  He should tell her to stay. He had a mountain of paperwork to do, and she’d likely be bored. But he didn’t want her shooting pool with Sam Miller or getting chummy with any of the other hands. Mostly because he didn’t completely trust her yet, but part of his reluctance was plain personal.

  While he watched her sashay around the corner of the bar, from his peripheral vision he caught Sadie studying him. He slid her a sidelong look, and she gave him a small, shrewd smile.
God only knew what was going through her head. But as far as gossips went, Sadie was on the lower end of the scale, and in here, with people liquored up half the time, she heard it all.

  She switched her attention to Alana. “You gonna drink your beer, or should I give it to Tony?”

  “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  Noah relieved her of the two bags. “How about some lunch?”

  “We just had breakfast.”

  “Over five hours ago.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Marge’s?” she said, with the enthusiasm of a hen entering a fox’s den.

  He didn’t have to look around to confirm that everyone had their antennas up. And they sure didn’t need to know he planned on taking her home and making sandwiches. “We’ll see.”

  “Come back anytime,” Sadie called out as Noah opened the door. “We’ll make small talk. I swear on my mama’s grave, no cleaning involved.”

  Alana shuddered. “Stay off that leg.”

  “And I thought I was a pushy broad.” Sadie’s laugh turned into a wheezing cough that followed them out to the sidewalk.

  Alana hesitated, glancing back at the door. “Does she have family here?”

  “Not anymore. She and her husband divorced years ago, and her daughter lives somewhere in Oregon.” They started walking again, but he could tell Alana’s mind was far away. “Why?”

  “She’s not that well and she doesn’t take care of herself.” Alana tugged down the sleeves of her T-shirt. “It’s getting chilly.”

  “What do you mean, she’s not well? Other than that cough.”

  “She has diabetes and a gash on her leg that’s healing too slowly. And yes, I’m fully aware that it’s none of my business.”

  Noah liked Sadie, always had. She had a gruff manner but a big heart. “Has she been to the clinic?”

  “She said she saw Dr. Heaton,” Alana said. “I helped her change the bandage and got a good look at that cut. Frankly, it’s hard to believe it’s already two weeks old.”

  “Heaton’s a good doctor.” At his street, Noah touched the small of her back to steer her into a right turn. “Somehow I didn’t picture you as a bandage-changing kind of gal.”