Timber Creek

“There are definitely no sparks between me and Eddie,” she lied.



“Eddie and me,” Ruby corrected.



“There’s a simple trick to remember the grammar.”



“Me first is the worst,” Ruby explained. “Never put yourself first.”



“In all things,” Pearl said, nodding. “Scripture says, ‘Let each of you look out for the interests of others.’”



Her sister frowned. “Are you certain that’s how it goes?”



“Of course. It’s Philippians, dear.”



Laura flopped back in the chair, waiting for the women to peter out.



“I know it’s Philippians,” Ruby said. “I think the quote is longer than that.”



“Don’t tell me how to quote Scripture.”



Their fire-and-brimstone preacher daddy had schooled them well, but Laura was anxious to get back on track. She put down her saucer, letting it clink louder than necessary on the table.



“I’m sorry, dear,” Ruby said.



Pearl shrugged. “I forgive you.”



Her sister frowned. “I was talking to Laura.”



Laura waved it off. “Either way, I promise you, there’s nothing between Eddie and me.” But suddenly, a question niggled in the back of her head. She hated it, but she needed to know. She took a nonchalant sip of her tea. “I think he has a girlfriend, anyway.”



“Eddie?” they exclaimed in unison.



Ruby shook her head. “Not our Eddie.”



“We’d know,” Pearl agreed.



She nodded, though she doubted it. Eddie had probably had hundreds of girlfriends—if you could call them that—since junior high.



Pearl shook her head. “Our Eddie’s a good boy.”



Sure he is.



“A good egg,” Ruby agreed.



A Neanderthal.



“See.” Ruby nudged her sister as they studied her expression.



Pearl grinned. “She likes him, I think.”



Laura sat up straight. “I do not. I was just thinking.”



“About Eddie.” Pearl tittered.



Ruby tried to hide her grin. “Last time I saw sparks like that, Bear and Edith got engaged.”



“I do love a wedding.”



“Promise you’ll have it in spring,” Ruby cooed.



Pearl gasped. “The waterfall is so pretty in spring.”



Laura gave it up. As the sisters smiled and nodded, she considered sparks. Well, of course there were some sparks between them. There always had been. The only thing was, while once Eddie had been just the sexy bad boy, now he was tanned and strong and all man. He looked more delicious than any cake.



And he wasn’t her type.



Right?



Fourteen



Helen cleared her last table of the lunch rush. “Thanks,” she muttered, seeing the tip. Two dollars on a twenty-dollar check. She pocketed it with a frown. “Ten percent. That’ll pay the gas bill, for sure.”



She carried the dishes into the kitchen, and Billy and Sorrow snapped apart when they saw her. There wouldn’t be many more patrons till dinner, and they’d been taking advantage of the lull by doing some canoodling, Sorrow’s untouched sandwich beside her on the counter.



“You could get a room,” she said with a smirk. “It is a lodge, after all.”



But then her gut churned. Her husband was out there, somewhere. Maybe he’d gotten a room—some seedy place to share with a girlfriend.



Because there had to be a girlfriend. Why else hadn’t he come home again last night?



She kept herself looking good, and when that hadn’t worked, she flirted with other men to show him proof of how desirable she could be, but that hadn’t worked, either. She didn’t know what else she could do to make herself attractive to him.



Billy laughed at her comment, clueless to her turmoil. “A room? Now there’s an idea.” He never took anything personally—he’d been wearing a permanent ear-to-ear grin ever since he and Sorrow had become engaged. He stood behind her now, nibbling her neck as she attacked her sandwich. “Whaddya say? We could get started on that basketball team.”



Helen loaded up the dishes as quickly as she could. “I’ll give you some space,” she muttered, getting out of there.



The two of them…it was too hard to watch sometimes. Had she and Rob ever been like that? She thought maybe so, in the early days. They’d ended up with three kids somehow.



The jokes about Billy and Sorrow’s future kids began after he’d bought her that big Excursion, when Laura wrecked the old car. Helen was happy for them—really she was—but it sure was hard to watch the carefree way Sorrow had taken to that fancy new SUV. The Baileys griped about money, but the way the girl had slid into that new Ford, it seemed like it was nothing for her to have a brand-spanking-new car, like she was entitled to such a thing.



But then there’d been her own accident around the same time. She’d hit a patch of black ice and slid into another car, and like that, the hood of her old Dodge had folded up like an accordion, no good to nobody. But had Robbie gone out and gotten her the keys to some fancy new car, crowing about how he needed her safe at all costs? No, the man had snapped at her, some distant look on his face, his eyes empty but for an anger she’d begun to see more and more frequently.



So she’d taken on an extra shift, carrying her own anger, lodged in her heart like a splinter she couldn’t pluck free.



She grabbed the carafe and made a pass through the dining room, refilling coffees, all the while surreptitiously taking stock of the few women in the room. Are you her? she wondered, studying each face. Are you the woman my Rob is sleeping with?



The bell on the door dinged, and in walked Damien Simmons. He was unaware of her eyes on him as he scanned the room and chose a booth.



It was a surprise how he hadn’t stopped coming to the tavern after all that’d passed between his family and the Baileys. She guessed he needed this community more than he let on. He’d taken his breakup with Sorrow better than anyone had expected, though she supposed it was easy not to be too proud when you were as handsome and as rich as Damien.



His eyes met hers, lasering in like he’d known all along she’d been watching. “Hey, Helen, you all right?”



She caught herself just standing there and jumped into action. “Yeah, sorry.” She scampered over to hand him a menu.



She grabbed the pitcher of ice water and filled his glass. “Do you need to take a look, or is it the usual?” The guy was a fitness freak, and it was always a chef’s salad, hold the bread, and the day’s meat special on the side. “The dinner special’s not up yet, but we’ve got some pot roast from last night I could serve up.”



“Sounds perfect.” He gave the menu a quick glance, then handed it back to her. “You sure you’re okay?”



“Of course.” She brightened her smile—it was what men wanted, wasn’t it? Pretty, smiling faces? And Damien was an especially good tipper, so best not to jeopardize that. “I am, now that you’re here.” She winked.



The bell on the front door rang, then rang again, but she kept her attention on Damien.



He shook his head, tsking. “Too bad you’re a married woman, Helen. You and me could run away together.”



Married…barely. “Maybe in the next life, hon.”



There was only one man she cared about, and it was her husband, though she could flirt with other men until she was blue in the face and it wouldn’t get him to notice her. Rob knew how chatty she could be with men, and he didn’t care. She imagined that not even the attentions of Damien Simmons, basically the prince of Sierra Falls, would make him jealous.



“I think those people need menus, Helen.” It was Laura, using her boss voice.



She hadn’t heard her come in and felt a spurt of panic. “Of course,” she said, trying not to sound too tart about it.



More and more, she sensed Laura’s critical eye on her. The older Bailey girl was a control freak, and losing this job was the last thing she needed.



Edith came over to smooth her daughter’s ruffled feathers. “I’m sure Helen’s got it.” She gave a gentle pat to Laura’s shoulder.



God bless the woman. Sometimes it felt like Edith Bailey was the only reason she still had this job.



With a last stiff smile to Damien, she said, “I’ll go put in your order.”



She had to brace herself to face the love nest in the kitchen. She was lonely—so lonely her heart ached with it. But as she felt Laura’s eyes bore into her back, she reminded herself this wasn’t her time. Someday down the road she’d figure things out for herself, but for now, she had three kids she needed to take care of. Which meant she had a paycheck to earn.



She wouldn’t give Laura any excuses to fire her.



She came back out to wipe down tables that didn’t need wiping, and as she worked, she felt Edith approach. Tucking the rag in her apron, she turned to express a quick thanks for earlier, and was surprised to be greeted by a positively gleeful expression on the other woman’s face.



“Have you heard?” Edith asked, excitement clear in her voice. “The History Network is coming to film here. Us!”



“Oh.” She pasted a smile on her face. “Congratulations.” Wasn’t that just exciting, how life was starting to happen for everyone but her?



Laura said from across the room, “Easy, Mom. They’re here to film the town. But yeah, they’ll be staying here. And who knows, maybe they’ll get a little footage of the lodge, too.” She came closer, directing her next words at Helen. “Which means we need to be extra on top of things.”



What was that supposed to mean? “I always am,” she said tightly.



Laura waved a hand. “Well, you know what I mean.”



But Helen wouldn’t let her blow it off. “I don’t, actually.”



“Fine, then. Like your purse,” Laura said, pointing to a cubby under the bar. “It doesn’t belong out here. You know I hate when you put your stuff behind the bar.”