CHAPTER FOUR
Elara
I opened the door to the bar, and the room went suspiciously silent. Everyone’s gaze fell on me.
I had never in my life made a room so silent.
“What?” I snapped.
I turned, pretending to look where they were looking. Two plate glass windows.
I groaned.
They had seen it all.
The room erupted in a fit of laughter as my face burned with embarrassment. The sandy haired bartender gave me a welcoming smile as he waved me over. The town was so confusing already.
“Well, hello there, petite sugah. You’re new. And, yeah, we all saw you take down the owner’s brother. That’s something we’ve all been fixin’ to do for a piece. Food and drink are on the house.” His smile was too bright and welcoming, but I’d take that ray of sunshine in the snow-covered hell.
“Ugh.” I covered my face, still in disbelief I’d not seen that man before I opened my door.
“Bless your heart.” He chuckled as he poured a glass of water. “I know these ain’t your stompin’ grounds, but you’ve made all our dreams come true.”
“So you’re telling me I’m Dorothy?” I said taking a seat at the bar.
“Dorothy?” A tiny line formed at the corner of those green eyes as he tried to place my reference.
I’d confused him. I had a tendency to do that with people. “Dorothy? From The Wizard of Oz. Like when she drops the house on the witch and the lollipop guild praises her?”
“No. Witch he’s not. Just an ass, petite sugah” His dry tone mixed with that southern accent made me stop.
“What? Is that a joke?”
He waved off my question with another smile. It wasn’t as bright as the last and the hairs on my neck stood up. “What brings you to Cordova? You don't see many with bright red hair in town.”
“Oh? I’m that obvious from just my hair?”
“Nah. It’s more the new jacket and tight blue jeans that give you away, petite sugah.”
I wanted to curl up in my coat and die. I had underestimated what clothing I should have actually worn to Alaska. I was going to freeze.
“I’m cleaning out my aunt’s place,” I breathed in a huff as I leaned against the bar. “Do you have anything other than beer? Where are you from?”
The bartender winked at me as his tousled honey brown hair fell across his eyebrows. “New Orleans.”
Was he flirting with me?
“You’re crazy. There is snow here.”
“I’ll take the snow over the hurricanes any day, petite sugah. Your aunt’s place, you say?” he asked as he busied himself pulling bottles from the cooler to concoct a drink.
“My dad says the house is not hard to miss. Neither was that giant salmon.”
He paused as he poured the milk in to a glass, those hazel eyes narrowing at me. “What did you say your name was, petite sugah?”
“Didn’t.” I sat up to peek over the blonde butcher block bar. “What in the world are you making me?”
“Give me your name, and I’ll tell you what this is.”
I scrunched my nose, contemplating his deal. What could it hurt? “I want your name, too, if you're getting mine.”
“Cash Nicolas Frederick Jolie Harris.”
I whistled in shock and appreciation. “That’s a lot of names.”
He laughed as he went back to making the drink. “That it is. Now, what’s yours?”
“Elara Jace.”
“And you’re up here for the house on the edge of town?”
“And you knew that how?”
My eyes narrowed at him again, a bit suspicious.
“Only one for sale right now. And the salmon.”
“Oh.” Well, that would do it. “Guess it's called the Hayes house? Dad used to say Aunt Minnie just went crazy and let the kids party there.”
Cash shrugged. Given how strong his accent was, he probably hadn’t been in town too long. “You been there yet?”
“Dropped my stuff inside the door.” My words trailed off as my eyes tracked the bowls of steaming chowder that the waitress brought from the back room. “You said food was on the house, too? Can I get one of those with my drink?”
“Girl after my heart. Yes, petite. I will get you some of the chowder. And this is a Brandy Milk Punch; a little bit of home.”
I eyed him skeptically as he sat the drink down in front of me. The inviting smile said he was proud of himself.
“Looks like snow.”
He winked. “It may be sweet and cold, but it will warm you up on any night—just like me, petite sugah.”
“I haven’t been in this bar even five minutes yet and you’re already trying to get in to my pants?”
“Can you blame a guy when your britches are so tight I can see your religion?”
I couldn’t fight the laugh that I was trying to hold in. When I calmed down, I took a sip of the drink he’d made me and slowly licked the remnants from my lips. I could play, too, but wasn’t quite in the mood. “I wear heels bigger than your dick, Cash.”
“Aren’t you an uppity little thing. Is that a challenge?” he teased, tossing the towel he’d used to wipe his hands over his shoulder. He had nice forearms. I’d give him that.
“You certainly haven’t given me much of one yet,” I quipped back, taking another sip of the delicious drink.
“Dagger in the heart.”
I laughed as he clutched at his chest for dramatic effect.
“And with that victory, you’re going to get my food, right?” I gave him a wink of my own.
“Aye. I’ll go fetch your supper.” Cash nodded, giving me another of his warm smiles before walking away, laughing.
Maybe Cordova wouldn’t be so bad for the week after all. I glanced around the rustic bar. Helium balloons were caught in the high corners of the roof near the fireplace, doves and wedding rings adoring their shiny surfaces. Not far down the wall were the remains of stray crepe paper bearing the words Just Married in a flowy script. It would be have made for an intimate setting. I could imagine the happy chaos that a wedding and reception would have caused here. Laughter bouncing off the walls above the happy chatter, a celebration of life in spite of the oppressive conditions outside.
My eyes roamed the paneled walls and landed on the name plaque above the bar. It was inscribed: Broken Tusk Inn est. 1956. Below the name plaque was mounted a clock made from a broken ivory tusk. I assumed, given the cold climate, that it was a walrus tusk rather than an elephant. The unique item made me wonder what came first—the name of the bar or the clock.
How many of my family may have sat at the same bar and talked and laughed within those walls? A tiny part of me wished I knew more about my ancestors. They had lived here nearly a century. I had been here only a few hours, and I was already starting to feel the charm of the place.
Numerous photographs dotted the walls. Were my family in any of them? The yellowed photos that hung behind the bar showed old timey miners with their mules and pick axes. I had time, I was in town for the week. I didn’t have to investigate everything at that very moment. I could pace myself in the discovery process.
My fingers played across the woodgrain patterns of the bar as my stomach growled.
“Here’s your chowder, petite sugah.” Cash placed the steaming bread bowl in front of me. The smell made my mouth water. “The secret recipe that has been passed down from the original owners. It’s what we’re known for here.”
I took the spoon and hauled a dripping spoonful to my mouth. I only managed to give him a thumbs up as the creamy soup hit my tongue. I wondered how much flirting it would take to get him to slide me the recipe as a souvenir to take home with me.
“I will leave you to your food.”
He didn’t bother to hide his laugh as I continued to dig into the soup.
When he returned back to ask how it had been, I was picking at the bread bowl
“If the thumbs up wasn’t enough, my compliments to the chef.”
“I will let him know,” he said with a wink. “But he prefers snuggles.”
I shook my head as I dipped another chunk of bread in the soup remnants. “You never stop, do you?”
“Never.”
“Cash,” I paused, debating my next words. “That man, the one I hit with the truck door, I know you said he’s the owner’s brother. Who is he exactly?”
He blew out a long breath. “He is the owner’s eldest brother, but he owns most of the town. He’s not someone that should be crossed or played with. Most townsfolk walk on the opposite side of the street from him and his dogs. He’s a skilled hunter, and will turn vicious just as quick as you can blink.”
I stirred what was left of my chowder. “Oh. I found that out.”