Thalen (Dragonii Hearts: The Mates of New Haven #2)

1. Evan

EVAN

“Well, that’s a nice hat,” the little old lady with the huge Tweety Bird watch on her tiny arm said, smiling up at me.

She was a regular, coming in here every day to buy a small cherry Slurpee and a Mars Bar, as well as the occasional loaf of bread.

“I almost didn’t recognize you in it. You always had a Union Feed cap on.

” She pursed her lips. “And before that, it was a John Deere one.” She winked at me. “You gone from farm boy to cowboy now?”

I blushed. It was true. I had a variety of farming related ball caps that I’d collected and wore on a six week rotation.

Or rather, I had, until I started following Jesse Wilson’s channel showcasing farming and ranching on the colony planet of New Haven.

A rancher born and bred, he wore a Stetson on his head and a pair of broken-in brown Tecovas boots on his feet.

I’d used a Google image search to find out the exact pair he had and was saving up to buy me the same style after blowing my meager savings on the calf split leather Stetson I now wore on my head.

Buying that had left me with fifty-three dollars and twenty-seven cents in my savings account, which quickly went down to just over twenty after I spotted a pair of cowboy boots someone had donated to the local thrift store.

They were heeled ones, and except for some scuffs that probably came from being terrible at line dancing, they were in good condition.

It had felt like serendipity finding them there after getting the hat, so I’d handed over the cash so I didn’t look ridiculous wearing the Steson with a pair of no name sneakers from Dollar General.

“Guess so, I guess. I like to watch YouVid farming channels and just got really into that new one from New Haven."

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my! Me and the gals love that channel! That Jesse is a nice piece of man candy, but his mate, Prince Johree? Hubba hubba!”

I barked out a laugh in surprise. “You too?”

“You betcha! I might be old, but I sure as hell ain’t dead!” she cackled.

She handed me the money for her purchase, exact change as always. Picking up her treat, she winked at me before turning to leave. “Not that you ain’t cute as hell too! Why do you think I walk four blocks to get here instead of going to the gas station at the end of my block?”

I gaped after her. Was she being serious? She walked further away from her house because she thought I was cute and liked to come look at me?

A soft snort of laughter drew my attention to the middle aged woman waiting for me to ring her up. “Pump three,” she said, placing a bag of Cheetos and a bottle of Arizona Iced Tea on the counter. “She sure seemed like a character.”

“Yup. First time she’s ever said more than a hello and that she’d like a small cherry Slurpee to me.” I rang up her purchase. “That’ll be forty-two fifty-five.”

She handed me her credit card, holding up her wallet so I could match the name on it to the one on the driver’s license inside the wallet’s windowed pocket.

“Well, she sure likes you,” the woman teased, and I blushed again as I handed her card back after running it.

“I probably just remind her of her grandson or something,” I demurred.

The woman, Cindy Dewhurst according to her ID and credit card, let out a short laugh. “Maybe she’ll turn out to be secretly rich and leave you all her money.”

I laughed at that.

“I somehow doubt that.”

Cindy shrugged, grabbing her purchases off the counter and leaving.

“Hey,” Tracy said, joining me behind the counter. “I’m here. I just cleaned the bathroom, so if you’ve restocked the cooler and stuff already, you can go.”

“Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome.” Tracy shook his head at me. “I’m gonna start calling you Tex looking like that.”

I started to tell him why I had the hat and boots, but he lifted two meaty hands in the air in supplication.

“Naw, don’t tell me. We’ll be here all day while you try to explain and convince me to watch some yee-haw streaming channel.

” He ran a hand over his closely shorn scalp.

“You like that shit, and I like true crime, and never the twain shall meet.”

I laughed at him. Tracy was a good guy, even if he did like to listen to really morbid podcasts and follow some gruesome streaming channels that showed historical crime scene photos.

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it.” I walked into the back and clocked out.

It was a ten minute walk to the bus stop, which would get me on the bus that stopped in front of my apartment complex, so I stopped to use the restroom before heading out.

I went out front after to buy the milk I needed for my coffee and cereal tomorrow morning.

“Just give me the cash!” I heard, and my heart sank.

I raised my eyes to the mirror in the corner where the dairy cooler met the one holding the soda, wine, and beer.

My heart leapt into my throat as I saw a guy in a pair of acid wash blue jeans and a black t-shirt, with a red bandana tied over his nose and mouth, brandishing a gun at Tracy.

Tracy simply nodded and opened the register, emptying everything inside it into one of the plastic bags we offered customers.

“Now your wallet!”

Tracy pulled it out and dropped it inside even as I carefully slid down onto my belly, praying the thief wouldn’t notice me.

“Now gimme the bag and get on the floor and don’t even think of pressing no button!”

A quick look down the aisle in front of me, the one with diapers, baby food, and other miscellaneous stuff such as trash bags, showed me a young guy who’d crawled as far into the shelf of Pampers as he possibly could to hide, holding a phone that he held facing outward.

No doubt he’d muted the sound so the robber couldn’t hear the 911 dispatcher after he’d called, hoping she’d hear what was going on.

The thief ran out the door just as sirens sounded, approaching. There was a squeal of tires as his ride pulled out in a hurry.

“They’re gone,” Tracy said, his voice sounding oddly calm and flat.

“Thank God!” the young guy said, clambering up from his hiding spot.

He pressed a button on the side of his phone before placing it up to his face, confirming my supposition.

“Hi, yeah, sorry, I didn’t want him to hear you and find where I was tryin’ to hide.

Uh uh. Okay.” He disconnected the call. “911says we need to all stay here to give statements.”

I merely went into a sitting position, holding onto my gallon of milk. “I think I’m gonna get a new job,” I said.

Tracy laughed, no humor in it. “You and me both, brother. As soon as I give the cops my statement, I’m locking up and going home and not coming back.”

“I need to pay for my milk.’

He sighed.

“I’ll ring you up first.”

“And me, I came in to buy diapers and wipes.”

“And you,” Tracy agreed as a police car pulled in.

Tracy had the right idea, I decided. I’d pay for my milk, write a note letting the boss know I couldn’t do this job anymore, and go home to look through online job postings. Flirty grannies and folks wanting to pay for gas were one thing. Robbers were another.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm my frantically beating heart.

This would never happen on New Haven. Maybe I should think about taking the plunge and apply for a homestead of my own, like I’ve always dreamed.