Chapter 3
Shylo hadn’t thought her recon mission through before starting it.
She was from a town that wasn’t much bigger than Hazard Falls and forgot that strangers stuck out like a lighthouse in a cornfield.
While people loved to gossip, they were suspicious of outsiders who suddenly appeared asking questions.
She wouldn't be able to randomly approach anyone and ask for details about Shane Wilson.
That would attract too much unwanted attention and prompt questions about why she wanted to know.
Already, three people had asked who she was and what brought her to Hazard as she walked through the general store and grocery aisles, not including Seth.
They’d been friendly enough, but she could see the intense curiosity in their eyes.
With a respectful smile, she kept her responses vague, then moved on.
Yes, she’d told Seth she was from West Virginia, but it was a big state, so she wasn’t worried about it.
Everyone’s questions were innocent enough, but she didn’t want anyone tracking her back to Brimley Flats.
She’d left her hometown for more than one reason—her past and her future.
She had to rethink her plan. Maybe she should get a job for a little while. That way, it would be easier to learn about Shane, his family’s cattle ranch, and how much of a fight he would put up when she demanded half of it.
After dropping the food off at her motel room, she drove back to the center of town, and relief flooded her that Seth’s pickup was gone from in front of the Stop & Go.
Although he was handsome—okay, sex-on-a-stick handsome—and friendly, his flirtation was a distraction she didn’t need at the moment.
The Stop & Go was an ideal place to get a job if they were hiring.
It seemed to do a steady business with the locals, and she’d overheard a few gossiping sessions in the aisles and by the registers.
Nothing about the Wilson family, but maybe that would change, especially with a few subtle inquiries in the right direction.
She entered the store and went to the customer service desk, where an older, gray-haired woman in her mid-sixties appeared to be in charge. “Hi, are you the manager?”
The woman gave her a brilliant smile. “I’m Marla Oberman, the manager and owner. What can I help you with, dear?”
“Oh, perfect. I... um... I was wondering if you were hiring at all. I just moved here, and I’m looking for work.
” Okay, so she stretched the truth a little since she wasn’t staying in Hazard any longer than necessary, but the woman didn’t need to know that.
She probably wouldn’t hire someone if they said they planned to be in town for only a few weeks.
“I wish I could help you, but there are no openings at the moment. Sorry.” When Shylo’s smile faltered, the woman continued.
“But I think Lou is looking to hire someone for the waitstaff over at Bar None. It’s a restaurant and bar about a mile down the road, on the left-hand side.
” She pointed east on Main Street. “You can’t miss it.
Gets pretty busy from Thursday through Sunday, but it’s open for lunch and dinner all week. ”
“Thank you for the information. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I... uh... didn’t get your name.”
Yup, the small-town curiosity filled the woman’s eyes.
Shylo held out her hand, wanting to be polite to the woman who’d told her where she might be able to get a job. “Shylo Kellerman.”
Marla shook her hand. “Well, it’s nice to meet ya, Shylo. Where are ya from?”
“Back east. But after a bad relationship, I decided to move on. I sort of stumbled upon Hazard Falls, and it looks like a pleasant town.” The “bad relationship” wasn’t exactly true.
However, it was the only thing she could think of for why she left her home and drove five states away to a small town in Kansas, where she didn’t know anyone, without a valid reason.
The fib didn’t sit well in her gut. She wasn’t a liar by nature, except when it came to Troy—she lied to him all the time when he wanted something from her.
But after she left town, she’d never see Marla again, so it really didn’t matter what Shylo told her.
“Oh, it is. I was born here and could never imagine wanting to live anywhere else. We’ve got plenty of friendly townsfolk, but like everywhere else, we’ve also got our biddies and bitches.
You look like a sharp woman, and I’m sure you’ll learn real quick who those are.
If you’d like, I can call Lou and let her know you’re coming to see her. She should be there now.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Um... Lou is a woman? I just assumed—”
“Her name is Betty Lou Davidson, but mostly everyone calls her by her middle name.”
The woman was already growing on Shylo. She doubted Marla was one of those biddies or bitches she referred to, even if she was chatty and inquisitive. “Oh, okay. Yes, if you don’t mind giving her a heads-up, that would be great. Thank you so much. I’ll go over there right now.”
“Perfect. I’ll tell Lou you’re on your way. Good luck.”
“Thanks again.” She waved at Marla, who already had a landline phone in her hand, before hurrying out of the store. Maybe she could get lucky and get hired for the server position. A bar/restaurant was probably an even better place to gather the information she needed.
A few minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of Bar None.
It looked like your average pub from the outside.
It stood alone, with no other stores attached.
The lot and building were clean and in good condition, so hopefully, that meant it wasn’t a dive.
Marla said it was busy most nights, so that was a plus, too.
Currently, about a dozen vehicles occupied the lot, and it was only three p.m.
Any pay and tips she earned would keep her from dipping into her meager savings. Shane would probably put up a fight when she demanded her inheritance, so she might be in town longer than she expected and didn’t want to end up living out of her truck if her money ran out.
She parked the truck, climbed out, and headed for the restaurant’s front door. As she reached for the handle, the door swung open and almost smacked her in the face. Thankfully, the cowboy who’d been walking out stopped it in time when he noticed her. “Sorry about that, ma’am.”
“Oh, no worries.”
He tipped his hat and held open the door for her, and his buddy, who’d been behind him, stepped aside to let her pass.
Both gave her smiles and appreciative looks as she thanked them and walked by, but they didn’t hit on her.
While neither was as handsome as Seth, she kinda liked the attention.
It felt like forever since she’d dated anyone, and one-night stands weren’t her thing.
Growing up in Brimley Flats, she was a late bloomer and a bookworm who was bullied in high school.
Not as bad as some of the other introverted students, but she received her share of verbal and emotional abuse.
She didn’t start dating until after graduation, and it was usually guys who didn’t live in her hometown.
A few sporadic boyfriends were in her past, but none lasted over six months.
They couldn’t handle the fact that they came second to her mother, who had been sick for many years and was Shylo’s key priority.
She had to work two jobs to pay the household bills and anything her mother’s health insurance didn’t cover.
A $10,000 life insurance policy financed the funeral and kept Shylo from being completely broke after her mom’s death.
Troy hadn’t helped at all. The good-for-nothing jerk couldn’t keep a job to save his life and mooched off their mother as much as possible.
Unfortunately, Heidi Kellerman had spoiled her son until he was seven, when Shylo was born, and the damage was done.
He hated his sister with a passion since he was no longer the center of his single mother’s attention.
They had different fathers, but neither man stuck around long after getting Heidi pregnant.
By the time Troy was a teenager, he was verbally and occasionally physically abusive, hung out with the wrong crowd, got into trouble, and expected his mother to bail him out every time, which she did.
However, Shylo learned quickly not to be a doormat when it came to him.
She stayed out of his way until she was old enough to stand up for herself, then refused to give him any of her hard-earned money whenever he demanded, not asked, for some.
However, he didn’t always take no for an answer.
Entering the bar area, she glanced around.
The place was bigger than it appeared from the outside and separated into two main rooms—one for the bar and the other for the dining area, which also had a small dance floor and a slightly elevated stage.
A few tables and bar stools were occupied by customers.
Each room had swinging doors at the far end, leading to what she figured was the kitchen. Also at the back of the bar was a hallway that presumably led to the restrooms, a stockroom, and a rear entrance.
The décor was rustic, but comfortable and inviting.
Above the bar, a row of TVs showed the news on one screen and various sports on the others.
Opposite the hostess stand was a small game room with a billiard table, two pinball machines, and a few high-top tables.
She liked the place and could easily imagine working there.
A russet-haired woman in her thirties grinned at Shylo from behind the long wooden bar and held out her hand.
“Hi, you must be Shylo Kellerman. I’m Betty Lou Davidson, but feel free to call me Lou.
” At Shylo’s startled expression, the bar’s owner added, “Marla told me you were coming and gave me your name and a description.”
She shook Lou’s hand. “Oh, right. Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too. Can I get you water or a soda?”