I can’t promise much. My cooking skills are still pretty hit-or-miss.” Jace grinned. “Mostly miss.”
Caleb tried to meet his friend’s smile. He should be going by, should be helping Jace out. But the whole family thing made him uncomfortable. What would he say to a kid? What would he talk about at a family meal? His own family had fallen apart after Julie died—his parents had split up and first Mom, then Dad, had left town. It had been over a decade since Caleb had sat down to a family dinner.
“Have you heard anything about your sister’s trial? Is she really in jail for the long haul?” Caleb still couldn’t believe it. Jace’s older sister, Brenda, had always seemed so sophisticated and smart. Then she’d gotten hooked on drugs and started a relationship with her dealer.
Jace leaned on the wall beside him. “Twenty years for drug manufacturing, distribution, weapons, all kinds of stuff. On top of neglect of her kids.”
“That’s rough. How are the kids doing?”
“Let’s just say it’s an adjustment period for all of us.” Jace took a long pull of his beer, then swiped a sleeve across his mouth in a careless gesture that spoke reams about his state of mind. “I just wish I’d paid more attention. Figured out what was really going on. Those kids have seen way too much. It messes with them.”
Caleb cast around for some words of reassurance. He was rusty at any kind of real conversation. The weather, livestock, the cost of feed... He could talk about all that. But he’d learned a long time ago that his own inner world contained troubles too big to share. They stopped conversations. Made everyone look miserable. So he avoided talking about anything heavy. Better to stay on the surface than drown in the depths.
He surveyed the bar, looking for a new topic. They could always talk cattle. Jace had recently purchased an old ranch, and he could go on for hours about the bucking bulls he planned to raise once he got the place fixed up.
A woman sitting at the bar looked familiar. She turned to say something to her companion, and her name hit Caleb like a blow to the gut. Trisha Gilbert. Julie’s best friend growing up, who’d been with her the night of the accident. Who’d survived.
He hadn’t run into Trisha since he’d been home. What was going on? First Maya, and now this? Was there some cruel alignment of the planets that was bringing these women back into his life? He didn’t need reminders of the accident. He had plenty, every day that he lived and his little sister didn’t.
As Caleb watched, Trisha slid off a stool and walked toward the restroom. She moved with a slight limp and Caleb wondered if that was her souvenir from that horrible night. Trisha’s leg had been broken in a couple of places.
The guy she was with—kind of a skinny, ratty-looking dude—glanced furtively around the bar, reached into his pocket, took something out and dropped it in Trisha’s drink.
“Holy hell,” Caleb murmured, taking a few steps forward. He set his beer down on the nearest table, ignoring the protests of its occupants.
“What’s going on?” Jace moved to stand beside him.
Caleb pointed to the bar. “That guy right there? He drugged Trisha’s drink.”
Cold fury flooded Caleb’s system, pressing out from inside his chest, and he was moving, shoving aside chairs and people until he was in front of the ratty man. He grabbed the guy’s collar. “What did you put in it?”
“Get off me,” the guy spluttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you,” Caleb ground out, gripping him even harder. “I saw you put something in that drink.”
“Is there a problem?” The bartender, Royce, was Dex’s nephew. Small, young, not much help in a fight.
“This guy spiked his date’s drink.” Jace handed Royce the glass. “Save that. Call the cops.”
Royce eyed the man in disgust and put the drink out of sight, behind the bar. “I’m calling.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.
“I didn’t do anything.” The man’s whine scraped away the last shreds of Caleb’s civility. Men like this hurt women and there were too many of them out there, wreaking havoc. Older guys had gotten Trisha and Julie drunk, the night Julie died. And now this jerk was hoping to do God-knows-what to Trisha.
The idea of some guy targeting Julie, in some future that could never happen, curled Caleb’s fingers tighter around the man’s coat. “Don’t ever come back here.” Caleb pulled him off the stool, shoved him toward the door, once, twice, herding the stumbling, stammering scum.
“Back off,” the man squeaked as he crashed into a table.
Caleb grabbed the weasel one more time and hauled him out into the night.
In the parking lot, the man tried to break free, but Caleb held tight and raised his fist. Trisha could have been his sister. She could have been Julie.
Someone grabbed his hand and forced it down. “Get a hold of yourself,” Jace commanded, low and stern, wrenching Caleb’s arm behind his back. “You’ve done enough.”
The weasel saw his chance and ran for his vehicle.
Headlights lit up the night as a sheriff’s car turned into the parking lot and pulled alongside them. The window lowered to reveal the scowling face of Adam Sears, now Deputy Sears, a friend from high school. “I heard there’s a problem. And look who it is. I should have known I’d find you out here, Caleb.”
It was hard to look dignified when your buddy had you in an arm lock, but Caleb tried. “It’s that guy over there, getting into the silver pickup.”
“Caleb, were you beating on the guy? I warned you last time. No more fights.”
“I just chucked him out of the bar.” The irritation was back, several horseflies now, buzzing wildly in Caleb’s mind. Adam was wasting time while the jerk got away.
Adam shook his head like a disappointed dad. “This wasn’t your problem to solve.”
“I don’t see you solving it.” Caleb tried to break free, but Jace wouldn’t budge. “Why don’t you do your job and stop him before he drives off?”
Adam pointed toward another car pulling into the lot, lights flashing. “He won’t get far. And my job is to keep the peace. Right now that means stopping you from doing anything stupid. I don’t want you back in my jail. I don’t want to charge you with assault. So calm down. Okay?”
Breath coming in ragged gulps, Caleb jerked his head toward the silver truck. “Shouldn’t you be talking to him?”
“I will be. But I also want to talk to you. Tomorrow morning. Meet me at the diner at nine.”
“I’ve got a ranch to run.” No way did he want a heart-to-heart about his wrongdoings with Adam, who made straight and narrow look so easy.
“Just meet him,” Jace said in a low voice. “You’re lucky he’s not arresting you.” He loosened his grip, and Caleb’s arm flopped back down to his side, the blood flooding in with pins and needles.
“Fine.”
