Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
MARILEE
K ill the music!”
Hank’s voice bellows above the noise of the music and everyone in the bar. The song dies abruptly, leaving me and everyone else startled. I’m halfway to table six, carrying two pitchers of beer. Tessa and I have been working our asses off tonight.
I weave my way through the group of veterans and first responders who are packing The Rusty Elk tonight. Darts and Beer Night is a different vibe than other nights. Some tables are rowdy, while some are more subdued. The energy tonight, though, crackles. The tourist season is nearly over, and I think everyone here is as happy about that as coming for the monthly Darts and Beer Night.
Hank climbs onto a wooden chair with a pint in his hand. “Your attention, please!”
Everyone stops talking as they turn to give Hank their attention. Even the rookie crew from the fire station stops arm-wrestling. Hank clears his throat as he looks around at everyone crowded in the bar.
“This woman”—he points at me—”walked in three months ago with no bar experience but a smile big enough to convince me to give her a chance. She learned how to pull pints and keep up serving the tourists, and without dropping every other plate…” Hank pauses, turning to where Shenna and her boyfriend, Hurley, are standing. Shenna is famously clumsy and went through a job here and at the café, before finding a job working for Jack at the general store and where she wasn’t breaking things.
Laughter ripples through the crowd, and many of the men and women here turn to smile at me.
Hank keeps going. “Marilee has poured her heart into this job. She stopped a bar fight with a plate of free nachos and convinced me to add ABBA to the jukebox. Tonight is Marilee’s last shift—leastways that’s what she claims. I say Misty Mountain’s keeping her chair warm.” His voice softens as he turns to me. “Kid, you need a roof, a job, or anything at all, you look right here.”
He raises his pint higher. “To Marilee!”
Everyone raises their glass and calls out my name, and tears fill my eyes. I had no idea Hank was going to do this. I’ve loved being here and am genuinely sorry this is my last shift. But, like what happened with my ex, I can’t bear to stay somewhere where I’ll run into a man who broke my heart—and Misty Mountain is a very small town. I’m going to miss Hank and everyone else here.
Hank hops down. I push through the crowd and give him a bear hug. “Door’s always open, Marilee,” he rumbles near my ear.
It’s not lost on me that I’m leaving tomorrow after finding my place in the community here. Though I don’t know how else things could go.
Tessa plugs the cord back in for the jukebox. It splutters to life, and Johnny Cash’s voice fills the bar.
Work keeps me running around the bar, serving beer and food and getting well wishes from everyone here. I pivot toward the bar to fill a fresh order and nearly collide with Eli, a local firefighter. There’s a smudge of soot on his jaw, and he grins at me with an easy charm that makes me look twice. He flicks a crisp twenty toward the tip jar.
“For the prettiest bartender this side of the Cascades.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “Thanks, Eli. I won’t tell Tessa you said that.”
Sami has been a godsend, letting me stay with her this week, but it’s still not the same as the cabin. I’m staying one last night, tonight, and then I hit the road tomorrow morning and will see where the road takes me.
The bell over the front door rings again, but I force myself not to look. I spent the first half of my shift watching the door like a hawk until Tessa called me out and told me not to waste my energy on a man who did me wrong, but my heart kept breaking over and over when Milo wasn’t walking in.
If Milo cared, he’d be here.
“You boys all set?” I ask, delivering a fresh pitcher and clearing the plates and silverware from their dinner.
Eli’s final dart thuds into the cork, the scoreboard flips to match point, and he turns to me. “Look who’s here with the good stuff,” he calls. “C’mon, Marilee, take a break and keep me company.”
I set the tray on their barrel table and give him a long look. “I’m not sure what Hank and Tessa would say about that. All you boys here are keeping us plenty busy.”
He raises his glass in my direction. “I’m willing to negotiate. Stick around for the finals and be my lucky charm?”
“She’s too good for you, man,” one of his buddies teases, and everyone in the group laughs.
Eli groans. “Traitor.” He pivots back to me, grin sliding into something softer. “Seriously, hang out. I’d enjoy your company.”
I open my mouth to answer, unsure. But when his buddy looks over my shoulder and whistles low, I follow the direction of his eyes. “That looks like trouble.”
Milo is stalking across the bar, his eyes blazing.
“Beast. How you doing?” Eli asks, standing up straighter. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Milo stops inches from Eli’s chest. “Back off,” he growls. “She’s mine.”
Eli lifts his palms. “Easy, man. Marilee and I are just talking.”
I shove between them, plant a hand on Milo’s sternum, and push him back. “I am not yours ,” I snap. Anger bubbles up in me. How dare he? “If that’s what you think, you need to leave. I’m not property, and you have no say in who I talk to.”
Eli tilts his head. “Everything okay between you two?”
“It will be when he leaves.” I stare at Milo. Of all the things I thought I’d feel when I saw him, this level of fury wasn’t it. “Again,” I add for emphasis. Milo falters, and I see he received my message loud and clear.
Hank’s heavy steps cut through the commentary. He plants himself beside us, towel snapping. “Problem?”
Milo stands his ground, then exhales heavily and lifts his hands as if in surrender. “Marilee, please. I’m sorry. I need to talk to you.”
Hank turns to me, his arms crossed over his chest. “You okay with this, Marilee?”
Am I? It’s been most of a week since I left the cabin. Have I wanted to talk to Milo? Sure. Did I think I’d get the chance? Not really. His timing isn’t great, either. After feeling so happy after Hank’s speech and send-off, my emotions are swirling in a different, more fragile way.
“Sure,” I finally say. “Let me take out my next couple orders, then I’ll come over.”
Hank follows me back to the bar. “You sure you’re okay with this? One word and I’ll eighty-six his sorry ass.”
I glance quickly over at Milo, who is sitting with his head in his hands. “I don’t know. Ask me after I talk to him.”