Chapter 2
Zachariah Baxter
Zachariah Baxter set his violin back in its velvet home, gently dusted rosin off the wood, and snapped it closed.
He also stuffed into the case the slight disappointment that Deputy Hot Stuff hadn’t stopped by for the show.
He’d shown up for five of the first six shows.
Sometimes only for a few minutes, but he always smiled, his brown eyes twinkling beneath the hat he always tipped.
So damn hot.
Zach had been eye-fucked his whole life. He knew when someone wanted him, and Deputy Hot Stuff wanted him. But it was a respectful want. Something Zach didn’t get often.
Most of the time there was an expectation. Either Zach should be grateful for the attention of someone so self-important or thankful for the money they offered so they could abuse him however they wanted. No thanks.
Hot Stuff had manners and a touch of shyness that was melt-in-his-mouth sexy. Like he didn’t deserve Zach’s attention. Zach liked that type the best. They could have fun without the power play.
Except that wasn’t why he welcomed the attention. And God, it made him feel like a total shitbag.
He pushed the case under his bunk and shoved that thought aside. As his granddad liked to say, thinking too much was a privilege of those who had enough. Right now Zach had nothing, much less enough.
Maddie Brown was in her regular spot, keeping watch. No one went in or out without her knowing and approving. “Heading out, boy?”
He smiled, because her tone said she knew what he was up to. “Can’t fool you, can I Maddie?”
She’d practically raised him after his parents had disappeared when he was five. His grandfather was his legal guardian, but Maddie had handled his upbringing.
“Never could, so best you don’t try now.” Her pretend cheery disposition faded and she leaned closer. “Go find him.”
That was his plan, but as his life proved, plans didn’t always work out. “He wasn’t here today.”
“He’s here,” she said confidently. “I saw that other one coming onto some brainless thing who asked if she could see his gun.”
Zach rolled his eyes. He’d used some terrible pick-up lines over the years, but even he wouldn’t use that one. And not on Deputy Hot Stuff. “That assumes they always work together. He also always comes to see the show, and he didn’t today.”
“You’re darn pretty, Zach, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.” She patted his cheek. “He’s working. Probably had something to do.”
She was probably right. God he hoped she was right. He might not get another chance. “I’ll be back in time to get ready.”
“See that you do.” She patted his hand. “I don’t need to hear them boys barking that I play favorites with you.”
He didn’t hear the others, but they were around. They never left the area, as if there was something contagious in the crowd.
“Even though you do.” He said it in a whisper.
“Hush,” she hissed at him, her voice devoid of any playfulness. “Go find him.”
His ‘brothers’ in the band might not like to leave the tent, but Zach loved walking among the people.
Maybe it was an ego-scratch. More than a few recognized him, told him they loved his playing.
He fed off it. It also meant he didn’t arouse suspicion when he left to find his knight in unsuspecting armor.
Zach learned early on that when people looked at him, they liked what they saw.
Once he figured that out, he found fun in the crowd wherever they went.
He didn’t think he was all that special—Bradley Ulmstead, the youngest of the five brothers—was beautiful.
But if people thought he was desirable, and it got him the fun he wanted, Zach wasn’t above using his talents that way.
This time he had a very specific need. One only Deputy Hot Stuff could provide.
He shook his head. His name was Deputy McAllen.
Twice he’d gotten close enough to the stage that Zach could read the name tag on his uniform.
And McAllen wanted Zach. Zach wanted out of the shit show his life had become since his grandfather had died.
They’d both get what they wanted and be happy.
It was good business for both.
Except it wasn’t, really. McAllen didn’t seem the type to use people.
Since opening night, Zach had stalked the guy.
Watching whenever he could see without being seen.
McAllen smiled at everyone, picked up little children whose parents had too many kids and not enough hands, gave the preteens tips on how to win at the midway games, passed out praise to the teens for their livestock at the 4-H tent, and laughed non-stop with that other deputy who helped patrol the fairgrounds.
He was a decent person. The type Zach rarely met and almost never messed around with. Not because he couldn’t, but they deserved better than a nobody like him. For McAllen he needed to make an exception.
Desperate times, as they said.
The hat came in view before the hottie. McAllen was tall, at least five inches more than Zach’s five-ten. Broad shoulders, trim waist, oh-so-clingy uniform. God, the man did unnatural things to him.
Zach wasn’t a holster-sniffer like Peter Ulmstead. That boy dropped his bass fiddle faster than a sizzling skillet if a hot cop of either sex walked by. Which meant that McAllen making eyes only at Zach filled Peter with a tsunami of jealousy.
Too bad. McAllen was Zach’s. Peter could have the other deputy, though he didn’t seem to swing that way.
He’d been careful around Peter the last couple days to be sure he didn’t ‘accidentally’ hit Zach with his instrument or trip with hot coffee.
Lost in his thoughts, Zach nearly ran into his target. He planned to talk to him, but not here. Zach wanted it to be more casual. Like at a food truck or while watching something interesting. He was running out of time to stage the perfect unplanned, planned meeting.
He turned quickly, slipped behind a tent, and took a parallel avenue to the food area. It wasn’t enough for him to know the guy was working, he needed to talk to McAllen.
The aisle he’d used dead-ended into the picnic area.
Approaching from this way gave him a view of the large open space.
About half the tables were occupied and there were lines at all the truck windows.
McAllen and his partner were already there, having entered from the parallel lane.
They were heading toward the barbecue truck.
McAllen always got a cherry limeade. Zach needed to try one. It might help with his flirting.
He watched for another few minutes, then got in line to get a sweet tea for Maddie. If he didn’t need his money, he would splurge on a blue slushie for himself. But Stephen had stopped paying him since Grandpa died. That made him wary. Wary enough that he needed to be careful with his money.
The walk back was quick and uneventful. He heard the others before he entered the tent.
Giving Maddie a tea would earn him some shit, but he didn’t care anymore.
They gave him shit about everything since their ‘daddy’ said he had full control of the act.
Well, everyone except Ashton, but even he wasn’t that friendly.
Probably because every time he tried to be nice to Zach, the others gave him shit. Zach almost felt sorry for him.
Almost. He had too much on his plate to worry about Ashton.
“Here you go, Maddie.” He handed her the drink with a straw still in its wrapper.
She raised an eyebrow as the others watched intently. “Zach, you didn’t need to do that.”
“It’s not much. They just charged me for the cup.” A lie, but since he’d been a little thing, the vendors had given him stuff. Mostly because they liked his playing.
That he didn’t have a drink for himself helped sell the lie.
“So where’s your admirer?” Peter asked. Figured. “He usually comes to moon over you.”
“He’s around. Ran into him getting Maddie a drink.”
That smacked the stupid out of Peter’s smirk. The others kept quiet but watched him warily. The fact that they hadn’t tried to hurt him yet only confirmed something was coming that he wasn’t going to like. He might not have ‘til the end of the week.
“Can’t imagine what he sees in a scrawny little bitch like you.” Kellan said. He was the oldest of the six, as well as the tallest, ugliest, meanest, and least talented.
When Grandpa had been alive, he’d stayed in line. Everyone did. Grandpa had controlled the money. Now that he was gone, Stephen Ulmstead, the minority owner had managed to take control. Mostly because Zach let him. What Stephen didn’t have was access to Grandpa’s business account.
“Probably because next to you, I’m Helen of Troy.” Stupid dipshit wouldn’t get the reference.
The others watched the exchange but kept quiet. Maddie was watching. She was in charge, and they didn’t mess with her.
“Yeah, you’re a bitch all right,” Kellan said.
“That’s enough.” Maddie got up and set her drink down. Kellan truly was dumb as a rock. “You go on again in twenty minutes. Get ready and stop jawing.”
She gave Zach a look. The others would think she was calling him out, but he got the message. He’d keep his yap shut and steer clear of the others. Stephen wouldn’t let anyone mess with Zach too much, at least not until he’d gotten all receivables diverted to him.
He grabbed a cup and filled it with water. “I know,” he said too softly for any but Maddie to hear. Don’t poke a wounded bear.
God damn he needed to get away.