Texas Sirens: Small Town Siren Part 10

"Yes, it's the nicest place in town." There was a satisfied look on Jack's face. "Nothing but the best for you, Abby."

He looked so happy with himself and earnest that Abby found herself letting Sam pull her out of the car. Sam gave Jack a little salute to let him know he would follow orders, and the Jeep pulled off to go around the building to park.

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"Come on, sweetheart." Sam took her hand to lead her into the building. "We're a couple of minutes early. Let's get you warm, and we can wait for Jack in the bar."

Abby stopped under the elegant green awning. It was lit with pretty little twinkle lights. "I thought we were going into Tyler. You said we were going into town."

Sam laughed as he immediately saw the problem. "I suppose that is what you would think. Sorry, Jack and I live outside of Willow Fork. We call it town. I've heard people here talk about going into town, though. I suppose they do mean Tyler. Is there something wrong?"

Abby stared at the frosted gla.s.s of the door. It was a Sunday night.

It might not be too crowded. Back when Abby was growing up here, Sunday night had been an important church and family night. It was possible there might not be trouble. She really didn't want to wreck her first date with them by having to explain she wasn't welcome in most of Willow Fork's fine establishments. It might put a damper on things. It also, Abby acknowledged, might make them think twice about seeing her. If they really understood what an outcast she was with the important people in Willow Fork, it might force them to face the fact she could really hurt their business.

"No," Abby forced out with a too-bright smile. She could brave through this. It had been over twenty years, after all. "I was just surprised. Delbert's didn't have a bar the last time I was here."

Sam held the door open for her. "I expect things have changed a little in twenty years, sweetheart. Both Delbert's and the Treasure Cove became private clubs about eight years ago. I like to think of it as progress. Now there are two whole places in town where you can get beer. I'm going to start lobbying the city council to let us buy it at the grocery store. I have to buy in bulk when we go into Dallas."

"I'm sure that's inconvenient for you." Abby looked around the place. She had only been in here once, and that was her sixteenth

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birthday. Her father had told her it was a special occasion, and they all went out. It had been a wonderful night. He died a month later.

The place hadn't changed much. There was new carpet on the floor, but she caught a glimpse of the crisp white linen on the tables and the single rose and candle in the middle of each. That was the same. The lobby area still had antique couches for people to sit on while waiting for a table. It was surprisingly full this evening. As they approached the hostess station, she realized that hadn't changed, either. There was still someone snooty standing there. She was an icy-looking blonde who warmed up considerably once she got a look at Sam.

"Mr. Fleetwood." The young woman had a voice that sort of grated on Abby. Icy Blonde completely ignored her, preferring to grant her chilly smile to Sam. "I saw your name on the reservation list. I made sure to give you and Mr. Barnes the best table in the house."

"I appreciate that." Sam's hand pointedly came to Abby's waist, and he drew her to his side. "We all appreciate it."

Icy Blonde did not notice. It was like Abby didn't exist. She leaned forward and looked around to make sure no one could hear her. "I was thinking we could hook up afterwards. I get off at ten. You and I could go back to my place. We can invite Jack, too, if you want."

Sam's ready smile faltered slightly. It was obvious to Abby he was a little shocked. He pumped that charm right back up. "I'm afraid I have to pa.s.s, Cecelia. I have a girlfriend now, and she might have a problem with it."

"I certainly would, Sam." Abby was surprised at the blatant rudeness of the young blonde. Abby didn't recognize her, but she looked a little like a girl she'd gone to high school with. Helen Smith had been two years older, and she'd gotten pregnant young, so this was more than likely her daughter. The fact that she was competing for men with girls her daughter's age made her a little queasy.

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"I'm sorry, Sam. I was mistaken. She doesn't seem like your usual type. She's much more...mature." The blonde sneered, finally giving Abby her full attention.

Sam laughed. "She's only five years older than me. Trust me, she's my type."

But maybe she was too old for him. Self-doubt and insecurity started to take over. What the h.e.l.l was she thinking? She was older than them. She had a past that could really cost them. She had no intention of staying in this horrible, little, small-minded town. Now Abby was wishing she had put on that sweater Jack had advised her to wear. The dress that had seemed so perfect before now felt a little cheap. It was cheap. She had bought it at a thrift store.

The blonde got back to business with a haughty shrug and told them their table would be ready in five minutes. Sam glanced around the lobby. "Hey, that's Lucas Klein, Abby. He's our feed supplier.

We do a whole lot of business with him. I need to go say h.e.l.lo. You wait here for Jack, all right?"

Abby, a little sh.e.l.l-shocked, simply nodded. She watched Sam move away to the man. Abby stood there feeling ridiculously vulnerable. It seemed to her that everyone was staring at her and talking behind their hands. The blonde stared down her nose, and Abby could feel her judgment. She was wondering why anyone would pick an almost forty-year-old mom over someone as firm and young as her. As for the rest of them, they were thinking that Abby Moore had come back into town and immediately taken up with not one, but two men. She was still living up to her reputation.

Abby was wondering if she could just tell the boys that she wasn't feeling well. Maybe they would take her home, and then she would do what she should have done in the first place. She would get her mom back on her feet and look for a job. It was time for a fresh start. She was thinking about Austin. Lexi was at the University of Texas, and there was always a need for experienced trauma nurses. She could

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chalk up the whole thing to a crazy mid-life crisis and get back to reality.

Abby looked over at Sam talking and laughing, his blue eyes full of mirth. He was so beautiful. He made her feel lovely and young. He deserved better than her.

"Oh, no, no, no," a firm voice said from behind her. Abby turned and saw the owner of the restaurant hurrying toward her with a stern look on his face. Luther Delbert was older, but he still looked imposing enough. He was a thin, tastefully dressed man in a three-piece suit. He was every inch the wealthy host of the establishment.

He had always had an aristocratic air, and now his slender face was pinched with distaste. "This won't do." He turned to Icy Blonde with a frown. "Who took this woman's reservation?"

Icy Blonde looked briefly satisfied. Her eyes crossed the room to make sure Sam was occupied. "I certainly didn't, Mr. Delbert. She just walked in."

Abby was about to protest when Luther Delbert hooked her elbow with his right hand and started to pull her toward the door. Abby wasn't ready for the motion, and she pitched forward and fell to her knees.

"Get up," Delbert said. The man obviously didn't care that everyone was watching now. "Your kind is not welcome here. How you have the gall to walk in here I have no idea, but I won't serve you, do you understand? I would lose business."

Suddenly there was a warm hand reaching down. "Abby? Are you all right?" Concern and confusion marked Sam's handsome face.

Abby blinked back tears as she let Sam haul her to her feet. She nodded mutely.

"I apologize for the drama, Mr. Fleetwood." Delbert's voice was all smooth and silky now as his professional demeanor took over. He seemed to want to get this scene over with as soon as possible. "Your table will be ready in a moment. If you don't mind, I'll escort this...lady out. She doesn't have a reservation."

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"Oh, I mind." Sam clutched at Abby's hand and looked around at the crowd. "What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you people? You don't help a lady when someone a.s.saults her?"

He was beginning to get the picture, Abby thought. The crowd was quiet. Some of the older patrons turned their backs on her. Abby tried to step away. She wanted to get the focus off of Sam, but he wasn't having it. If anything, he pulled her closer.

"Is there a problem?"

Every head swung to the front of the lobby where Jack Barnes stood in a tailored suit, looking like the devil himself. Sam sighed beside her, and his hand went firmly around her waist.

"Not at all, Mr. Barnes." Delbert wiped the bitter look off his face in favor of a gracious smile. "We're having a little trouble with an unwelcome guest, but I'll get it sorted out very quickly. If you and Mr. Fleetwood would care to step into the bar, the first beer is on the house."

"He pushed her down, Jack." Sam's voice was tightly coiled.

Abby looked up at him. He seemed righteously p.i.s.sed off.

Jack's eyes flared briefly at that statement, and then an arctic chill settled in his dark green orbs. Abby took a deep breath because she was intimidated, and she knew that look wasn't directed at her. Luther Delbert seemed to shrink right before her eyes. The lobby had gone deadly silent as Jack stared at the owner of the nicest place in town.

"She fell," Delbert explained as he seemed to realize there was something going on he failed to understand. He looked back and forth between Abby, Sam, and Jack as a revelation slowly dawned on him.

"I guess I'm not used to the heels. I lost my footing." Abby just wanted to get out of there. She'd drawn enough attention to them. She could see the feed store owner whispering something to another customer. Abby didn't like to think about what he was saying.

"Because he grabbed you." Sam looked the owner directly in the eye. "You told her you wouldn't serve her or her kind. What the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean? What is her kind?"

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"Sam." Jack's voice was deep and deliberate. "I think Abigail would prefer another place to eat tonight. Why don't you take her out to the car, and we'll find something more suitable. I believe I promised to take her someplace cla.s.sy, and it's obvious I made a mistake by bringing her here."

Abby couldn't bring herself to look at Jack as Sam laced his fingers through hers and started to lead her out. All she could think about was how much this incident might cost him. Sam stopped briefly in front of Jack's enormous frame.

"You gonna take care of this?" Sam's question was low.

"Yes," Jack promised. "I think I would like to have a private discussion with Mr. Delbert."

Abby walked out, pulled along by Sam. She supposed Jack was going to stay behind to try to smooth things over. She hoped it worked. She hated the fact that she'd pulled them into her trouble, but she should have known better. Abby felt numb as Sam pulled her toward the parking lot.

Nope, she thought, nothing had changed at all.

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Chapter Seven.

Sam watched Abby laugh as Christa ordered another round of drinks. The girls were enjoying those pink fruity things the women on TV liked. He didn't care what it was. It was loosening Abigail up, and after the scene at Delbert's, Sam would have given years of his life to put a smile back on her face.

"Tell me you're going to crucify that f.u.c.ker, Jack," Sam said as his partner sat back down at their table at The Barn. It was hours later, but the rage still simmered close to Sam's surface. It had taken everything he had to walk Abby out of that place and soothe her wounded pride. He'd gotten her back to the car and then made a few calls while she retouched her makeup. Sam hadn't missed the tears in her eyes. The first call had been to David Sandberg and his wife, Polly. They were old friends of his who ran The Barn. Sam had been explicit in his instructions, and he hadn't been disappointed.

Abby had smiled when she was shown into the small, private dining room at the honky-tonk. It was in the back of the building and mostly used for storage, but it was quiet, and Polly had done wonders turning it into a little romantic s.p.a.ce. She had gone all-out in the twenty minutes she'd had. There was an intimate table with a pretty table cloth, and candles were the only light in the room. The light made everything soft and gauzy, and he'd watched Abby relax as Polly had played the gracious hostess. She had soft music playing and gla.s.ses of wine ready for them. He and Jack were really more beer drinkers, but they could handle a gla.s.s of wine on occasion.

They had carefully avoided the subject of the scene at the steak house after Abigail had tried to apologize, and Jack quickly shut her

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down. He let her know that there was nothing to be sorry about. It was their fault for taking her to a place that would treat her like that.

Abby had slowly started to laugh again as they enjoyed their quiet meal. Sam and Jack told her all about the pitfalls of cattle ranching in the modern age, and Abby told them stories from her life as a trauma nurse. Sam had been awed by her intelligence. It took guts to put herself through school when she was a new mom. Her life had been tough, but she had made the best of it, and he was so proud of the woman he intended to make his wife. It had been nice to share a meal with her. He had done it many times over the last month, but this was different because all the cards were on the table.

"I'm gonna kick his a.s.s, you know," Sam stated flatly.

Jack's lips curved into a knowing smile. "You'll do what you need to do, Sam. Just make sure to let me know what your alibi is so we can have our stories straight."

Sam nodded. Mike Wade sat down at the table with his second longneck of the night. Sam had been thrilled to see Christa and Mike were at The Barn. Abby could use a girlfriend.

"So the rumors are already all over town." Mike looked protectively over the girls at the bar.

"That was fast." Sam knew he shouldn't be surprised. It was a small town.

"Oh, I bet it wasn't five minutes after it happened that Christa got the call." Mike took a long swallow of beer. "She's friends with one of the bartenders. Christa said the staff thought Luther would have a heart attack after Jack had his little talk with him. They said he was white as a sheet and went home early. What the h.e.l.l did you say to the man?"

"I pointed out a few facts of life he overlooked," Jack said evenly.

"I explained to him that he had roughly six months worth of business left, so he should start looking for a new career or move to a new town. He did that sputtering thing. You know, the one where people tell you they don't believe you, or you can't do that. I find that part of 90 these conversations very annoying. I greatly prefer to move on to the part where he realizes I'm going to bury him. Men handle this one of two ways, I've found. They get p.i.s.sed off, or they cry. Luther, it turns out, is a crier."

Mike whistled. "d.a.m.n, Jack, what did you tell him you were going to do?"