Chapter Five
Karissa
I’d always worked hard, but never the type of labor associated with waiting tables.
When I left the motel the next morning to go to work, the sun was just lightening the horizon.
The shift I’d been assigned was breakfast and lunch and with the free meals there and Marla’s cookies at night, I could avoid spending any money at all on food.
The motel’s reasonable rate also helped me to save toward the truck repairs.
Despite the fact that I was still closer to the packlands than I preferred, things were going much better than I anticipated when I broke down in the darkness.
Most of the shops were still closed up tight, only the bakery and the diner spilling light from their windows onto the sidewalk.
A few other workers were moving toward the grocery and other businesses, and it felt good to be part of the town, earning my way and with somewhere to go, even if it was for such a short time.
I went around back and let myself into the kitchen, breathing in the smells of baking biscuits and sausage gravy.
They had a special every morning, I’d learned after being hired, and that was today’s.
My mouth watered for something I’d never even tasted before.
“Oh, here you are.” The owner, my new boss, bustled into the kitchen from the front of the house, a term I’d learned just yesterday. “Hurry and have some breakfast. We open in a half hour, and we have a lot to do.”
I was about to ask what it was all right for me to have when Henry, the breakfast short-order cook who apparently had more skills than I knew, plopped a plate with two big, cut-open biscuits steaming on it on the counter by the stove and ladled gravy over them. “Here, new girl.”
I carried the plate to the tiny table in the corner used by staff and sat down, leaning over the food to breathe in the fragrances.
“Don’t you want coffee?” Henry held up a mug.
I so wanted coffee. “I do.”
“Then pour yourself some. You’re going to need all that caffeine by the time breakfast gets going.”
He wasn’t kidding. Stuffed full of my new favorite food and fueled by the dark, bitter brew, I spent the next few hours running nonstop from the kitchen pass-through to the various tables and back.
When I wasn’t serving food, I was clearing the table and wiping them off or seating customers.
It kept me busy, and I enjoyed seeing all the people, but when I took my break right before lunchtime and sat down at that little table to have a snack pressed on me by the cook, my feet were aching.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said, not without a little sympathy. “And you’re halfway home. Just lunch to go.”
Just lunch… Why I thought it would be easier than breakfast, I couldn’t say.
But I soon found out how wrong I was. Many of our breakfast eat-in customers were leisurely diners.
Those in a rush were more likely to order their food to go.
But the midday meal was populated by travelers passing through as well as farm folk in town for various reasons and also workers from the businesses around us.
And every one of them was starving and wanting their food yesterday.
And sheer numbers meant, in order to serve all the customers, we had to keep things moving.
Tips helped to keep me moving, but I was going to be awfully tired when I got out of there.
Toward the end of the lunch rush, the sheriff came in with another man and settled at a table in front of the window.
They waved away menus and ordered burgers and fries along with iced tea.
I was too busy to have any kind of conversation with them at first, but when I stopped by their table to top off their drinks, things had begun to slow, and there were even open seats here and there.
“Sheriff…” His arched brow reminded me of his request. “That is, Holt, I wanted to thank you for your help the other night.”
I expected him to say something about just doing his job, which, of course he had been, if a little better than most people probably would have, but he didn’t.
Rather, he gave a nod and lifted his eyes to meet mine.
Again, I was struck by the golden flecks in the darkest-brown irises I’d ever seen.
My breath caught, and I grabbed for the back of an empty chair at the table for balance.
The officer’s gaze registered concern, and he reached out and closed his hand around my forearm, steadying me and weakening my knees at the same time.
“K-Katie?”
I’d been taunted by a lot of males at the pack, but this gentle teasing held none of the sting, just friendly joking that brought me back to myself. “Sorry. It’s been a busy morning.”
“Maybe you should sit down in that chair you’re holding onto and take a break.”
His friend glanced back and forth between us but remained silent.
“Oh no. I couldn’t do that. I just started here, and I wouldn’t want my boss to regret giving me a chance. I need to earn enough to pay for my truck repairs.” I looked down at where he held my arm, the skin warm under his touch, and he let go, slowly.
“Your boss is a good male, and I am confident he won’t hold it against you if you need to sit for a minute here and there.”
“I’m Poe, by the way.” The other man held out his hand, and I shook it, feeling a whole other variety of knee wobble.
His eyes were the green of clear ocean water and fringed with long, sooty lashes the same color as his black hair.
His lean musculature was finer than Holt’s, but I had a feeling he was no less strong in his own way.
They were hot, something a female passing the table didn’t fail to notice, her bright smile irritating the crap out of me.
Why should I care? Some of the males at my pack had been handsome, too, but every one had left me cold.
Was I suddenly going to be reacting to every guy who casually touched me or looked at me?
Act like they were mine and no other female should so much as look at them?
Clearly, I was overtired.
And still holding onto Poe’s hand. Cheeks burning, I pulled mine back. “Umm, will there be anything else?”
“No thanks,” Poe said. “It’s nice to meet you, Katie.”
“Order up!” Henry called, setting plates on the pass-through, and I gladly grasped at the excuse to get away from the situation I didn’t understand.
I’d be out of here in less than a week. No need to get attached to males who probably wouldn’t even want me anyway.
Unlike the slinky female who’d smiled at them, I was unfashionably curvy, my redhead’s skin flushing whenever I had any kind of emotional reaction to anything.
“Back to work,” I announced and scooted away before I made a bigger fool of myself. They left shortly afterward, to my relief and regret.