Chapter 16
KIRA
According to Grizz, Moon Ridge only has one restaurant, and it’s exactly what I expect, from the wooden floorboards to the cracked leather booths along the walls, to the age-worn wooden chairs surrounding the tables that fill the center of the space.
A bell over the door jingles as we come in. There’s a chalkboard menu near the entrance that already has a few of the specials smudged out.
A woman in her fifties with silver-streaked hair hustles over with a handful of menus. “Afternoon, boys. You brought a lady today. Miracles do happen.”
All three men nod a greeting, and Atlas says, “Ruth. How are you?”
“Doing fine. Sit wherever you like.” She follows us to the table Atlas chooses, toward the back, but where he and Viper have a clear view of the door. “Coffee?” she asks as we take our seats.
Atlas and Viper take her up on her offer. Grizz asks for a Coke.
“And you, hon?” The woman gives me a once-over, taking in my hat and glasses, which I haven’t removed yet.
“Decaf for me, please.” I’d like to ask if they have any herbal teas, but I don’t want to draw undue attention to myself. Several of the other patrons watched us come in, a few of them waving at the men. In a town this small, it seems impossible not to stand out as a stranger.
“You got it.” Ruth leaves us with the menus, only to return moments later with a coffee pot in each hand.
“What’s looking good today?” Grizz asks her as she pours coffee into my cup.
She answers immediately in a no-nonsense tone. “Definitely the meatloaf. The brisket is a close runner-up. I’d only order the turkey if you’re mad at your taste buds.”
“Understood.” Grizz closes his menu. “Put me down for the meatloaf sandwich.”
“I’ll be back with your Coke. Take your time looking at the menu, hun,” Ruth tells me before she heads to the kitchen.
“The grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup are always good,” Atlas tells me. “That’s what I’m getting.”
Eyes scanning the room in his usual quiet way, Viper doesn't touch his menu. When Ruth comes back with Grizz’s drink and an order pad, he requests a BLT.
“Cook’s already working on it for you, Silas,” she says.
Keeping the doctor’s orders about protein and fiber in mind, I opt for a salad with grilled chicken. Grizz is a terrific cook, and I’ve enjoyed everything he’s made, including plenty of vegetables, but the men don’t seem big on salads.
While Atlas is ordering, the entrance bell jangles and there’s a bit of commotion, though Viper’s face doesn’t register any concern. I turn, trying not to be obvious, and see a short, dark-haired woman greeting people at every table she passes.
She looks to be in her seventies and is wearing an oversized, bright red coat that matches her lipstick perfectly. A bold geometric-patterned scarf is secured around her neck with a big fancy brooch that shines under the restaurant’s lighting.
She’s clearly not a stranger in this town, but she definitely stands out.
When I turn back toward the men, my brows lifted in curiosity, Atlas says, “Mae Whitaker. Town’s mayor many years ago. Still runs the place, I reckon.”
The woman strolls past our table and settles herself in the last booth along the wall like she’s taking her rightful place on a throne.
Ruth rushes over to greet her. “The usual, Mae?”
“Milkshake, please. I don’t know yet whether or not I’ll be eating today.”
As the waitress leaves, I avert my eyes, though there’s something about Mae Whitaker that draws my attention like a magnet.
I look around the restaurant instead, to the two old men arguing about whose truck has better mileage, to the conversation I can’t hear across the way that involves a waitress and people at two different tables, all of them laughing. Everyone seems to know everyone else.
“Is the town always like this?” I ask quietly.
Atlas looks around, following my gaze, and shrugs. “More or less.”
“People look out for each other,” Grizz says. “They meddle, too, but it’s mostly with good intentions.”
As our food’s being delivered, a tall older man ambles by the table. “Hey, Ed,” Ruth says. “Be right over.”
“We know where he’s headed,” Grizz mumbles under his breath.
“Who’s that?” I whisper.
“Ed Winslow.” Atlas keeps his voice low. “He’s retired from carpentry, but he still does projects for Mae.”
The older gentleman slows as he approaches Mae’s booth, and for a minute, I think he might turn around and head back the way he came. Meanwhile, Mae inspects the menu with exaggerated seriousness, one perfectly shaped brow arched. Even though she doesn’t look at the man, it’s clear she notices him.
“You’re late,” she says eventually, still not looking at Ed.
“We didn’t have plans to meet,” he says.
She taps her menu on the table, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Sit.”
Ed’s carrying a small paper bag in one hand, and he holds it out to her. “I’m only here to bring this to you.”
“I didn’t ask you to argue,” Mae says. “I asked you to sit.”
Hovering near her booth, Ed scrubs a hand over his white-stubbled jaw. “Are you trying to drive me out of my mind, woman?”
“Short drive, Ed.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can contain it, and I’m not the only one.
Grizz ducks his head over his plate and chokes on his own laugh, while Atlas’s mouth twitches.
If I didn’t know Viper as well as I do now, I’d think he didn’t hear the conversation, but small movements of his eyes and facial muscles tell me something different.
Ruth arrives with Mae’s milkshake and sets it down like an offering. “Want a menu, Ed?” the waitress asks.
Mae waves her hand before he can answer. “He’s not eating today. He’s brooding.”
“Why are you always so pleasant?” Ed asks Mae. To my complete surprise, he slides into the booth across from her.
The woman bats her eyelashes, which I’m pretty sure are too long and thick to be real. “Why waste my charm on people who already know me?”
A leg nudges my knee under the table, and I realize I need to stop eavesdropping.
“Everyone says they’ve been dancing around each other for years,” Grizz says. “Whole town’s taking bets.”
“On what?”
“Who caves first.” When I arch a brow, curious, he says, “My money’s on neither.”
I can’t help but look their way again a couple of minutes later, and this time, Mae catches me looking. The woman’s red lips twitch into a smile as her eyes crinkle at the corners.
Atlas asks about my salad, and I keep my focus on our immediate table while we finish our lunches. When the men are nearly done with their meals, they start speculating about what desserts will be available today.
Grizz is about to flag Ruth over when a child’s voice calls out. “Hey, Ruth! Can we sit by the window?”
It’s T.J., along with his mom. Elena’s scanning the room for an available table, and waves when she spots me looking their way.
“Who’s that?” Viper’s alert level, which is always on ten, notches up.
“Kid who almost ran into … Jennifer,” Grizz says. “Name’s Elena Ramirez.”
Viper eyes her as she stands near the doorway. “New principal at Moon Ridge Elementary,” he says. When Atlas and Grizz both look at him, surprised, he says. “It’s my job to keep up with news.”
“Husband was a SEAL,” he continues. “Died in a training accident three years ago.”
My mouth falls open as I wonder, not for the first time, what it’s like inside Viper’s head. He’s a walking search engine sometimes.
“Want to invite her over?” Atlas asks me.
When I nod, Grizz takes the lead. He stands and waves at Elena. “Want to join us?”
She heads over, calling out a greeting to Mae, who waves back at her.
All three of the men stand as Elena and T.J. approach. Atlas pulls over two extra chairs, and we all shift to make room.
“Only if we aren’t intruding,” Elena says.
“You’re not.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Andrew. This is Silas, and you’ve already met Jennifer and Boyd.”
Elena shakes all of their hands, telling Boyd she didn’t catch his name earlier. She introduces her son to the men, then turns to me. “It’s good to see you again, Jennifer. Did you eat already?”
“We had lunch, but I think there are plans for dessert.”
T.J. taps Elena’s arm. “Dessert! Can I get a piece of cake, Mom?”
“We came in for hot chocolate. You can get that or cake, T.J. Not both.”
The boy screws up his face in concentration, doing mental calculations before saying, “I’ll have cake. We have hot chocolate at home.”
“Smart boy.” Grizz holds out his knuckles for a fist bump, and T.J. meets them with a wide smile on his face.
Ruth appears with two more menus. “Hey, Elena. You keeping this one in line?” She jerks her chin toward T.J.
Elena laughs. “I’m trying. No promises. How’s your day going?”
Ruth asks about a school event, and Elena asks if anyone found Mrs. Calloway’s missing cat yet. Their banter is easy and familiar, and it makes me yearn to belong to a community like this, instead of passing through, wearing a wig and using a fake name.
Elena orders coffee, T.J. and Grizz each get a slice of chocolate cake, and Atlas and I order huckleberry pie, while Viper passes on dessert.
While we talk, Elena confirms she is indeed a school principal. The men share a little about their security work with her, and then the focus turns to me, something I’d been hoping to avoid.
“So, Jennifer,” she says, “are you thinking of staying in Moon Ridge for a while? Lots of people come for a season and end up putting down roots.”
I shrug and aim to keep my lies as close to the truth as I can. “I’m … figuring things out. A lot of things are up in the air right now, so it’s hard to make plans.”
Elena gives me an empathetic smile. “I’ve been there. New town, no family nearby, and a kid who needed me to keep it together.” She ruffles her son’s hair, but T.J. is too focused on his cake to pay much attention.
“Moon Ridge made it doable,” she says. “It’s a great little town. Schools with small classes, a good library, no crime to speak of. Everyone looks out for each other. When we moved here, the women who volunteer at the community center practically adopted us.”
“That does sound nice,” I say, and I mean it, but I’m half lost in my own thoughts. I don’t want to ask Elena about her husband in front of T.J., but if Viper’s intel is correct, and I’m sure it is, then it seems Elena is doing great at single motherhood, despite all the challenges.
As she talks about her love of the town, I can almost picture myself and my daughter in some small rental house here. A view of the mountains, routines that revolve around school drop-offs and grocery lists instead of security briefings and burner phones.
And yet, as I sit here surrounded by the three men who have quickly become my world over the past few weeks, I’m finding it hard to want to imagine a future that doesn’t include them.