Chapter Six #2
Late in the afternoon, the sun slanted through the windows of the bar, casting light across the polished bar top. Aubrey’s hands moved with practiced efficiency as she stacked the last of the clean glasses.
“Thanks for coming in, Frank,” she called out to a departing patron. “Tell Marge I said hello.”
“Will do,” he called in return, heading outside.
As the door swung shut behind Frank, Aubrey allowed herself a moment to breathe, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
The quiet of the empty bar was a stark contrast to the bustling energy of just an hour ago.
She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at how smoothly things had run, even as her mind raced ahead to the evening preparations.
The jingle of the doorbell interrupted her reverie, and Aubrey looked up to see Betty’s familiar figure silhouetted in the doorway.
You couldn’t mistake the purple curls and sunshine demeanor.
A genuine smile spread across Aubrey’s face, chasing away some of the lingering fatigue.
Betty had become very close with Willow, but Aubrey appreciated her too.
She was the grandmother of The Naked Moose that everyone loved to be around.
“Right on time, as usual,” Aubrey said, already reaching for a shaker and various bottles. “I’ve got something special for you today.”
Betty settled onto her usual stool, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. “You know I’m always game for your experiments, honey. What’s on the menu this time?”
Aubrey’s hands moved swiftly, measuring and pouring her latest concoction. “It’s got local huckleberry vodka, fresh lemon juice and a touch of lavender syrup,” she explained, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice.
As she worked, she found herself relaxing into the familiar routine. Betty’s presence always brought a sense of comfort, reminding Aubrey of the community she’d found here in Timber Falls, even if she was missing the big city.
“Sounds divine,” Betty said, leaning forward to watch Aubrey’s technique. “You’ve got quite the talent, you know. This place wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Aubrey felt a flush of pleasure at the compliment, even as a part of her wanted to deflect it.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, giving the shaker a final, vigorous shake.
“I think The Naked Moose would do just fine without me. Willow and Charly run the show here.” They’d even hired Miguel to handle the small menu of food they offered, so now Aubrey was more freed up to focus on the cocktail menu, which they were becoming known for.
With a flourish, she strained the vibrant purple cocktail into a chilled glass, garnishing it with a sprig of fresh lavender. “Here you go,” she said, sliding it across to Betty. “Let me know what you think.”
As Betty took her first sip, Aubrey found herself holding her breath, a familiar mix of pride and anxiety swirling in her chest. It was more than just a drink; it was a piece of herself, offered up for judgment.
Betty’s eyes widened as she savored the drink. “Oh my, Aubrey, this is divine! What do you call it?”
“Lavender Twilight,” Aubrey replied, a small smile playing on her lips. “I thought it might be nice for the summer evenings.”
Betty nodded approvingly, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Speaking of twilight romances, have you seen Willow and Eli lately? Those two are practically glowing.”
Aubrey smiled. “I have. It’s…it’s really something, isn’t it?”
As she absently polished a glass, Aubrey’s mind wandered to her friends.
Willow, who’d been through so much, now seemed to radiate happiness.
And Eli, once so tormented, looked at peace for the first time since Aubrey had known him.
“They deserve it,” Aubrey said softly. “After everything they’ve been through… ”
Betty’s keen gaze settled on Aubrey. “And what about you, dear? Any chance of finding your own cowboy to ride off into the sunset with?”
Aubrey let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Me? No, I think I’ll leave the sunset rides to Willow and Eli. I’m more of a…sunrise and strong coffee kind of girl.”
But even as she deflected with humor, Aubrey felt a familiar ache in her chest. Her life was nowhere near where she’d thought it’d be nearing thirty years old. She busied herself with wiping down the bar, avoiding Betty’s knowing look.
“Besides,” Aubrey continued, her tone lighter than she felt, “relationships and I don’t exactly have the best track record. I think I’ll stick to what I’m good at—making drinks and keeping this place running.”
Betty leaned forward, her weathered hands clasping Aubrey’s. “Now, you listen here, honey. Good men are like fine whiskey—they’re out there, but you’ve got to know where to look and when to take a sip.”
Aubrey’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “And what if I’ve already had my fill of bad whiskey?”
“Then you know better what to avoid,” Betty countered, her eyes twinkling. “It’s all about timing. The right man will come along when you least expect it.”
“Maybe,” Aubrey conceded, not wanting to disappoint Betty. But inside, her walls remained firmly in place.
The jingle of the bell cut through their conversation, drawing Aubrey’s attention. Her breath caught as Gunner strode in, carrying his guitar, his presence filling the room like a chord struck on his guitar. But he wasn’t alone.
A young girl, no more than twelve, strode next to him, her eyes wide with wonder. Behind them, a woman—clearly the girl’s mother—followed, her expression a mix of gratitude and admiration.
Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Gunner lean down, murmuring something to the girl that made her giggle. His rugged features softened, those soulful eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Well, I’ll be,” Betty whispered, echoing Aubrey’s thoughts. “Looks like our resident country star’s got a softer side.”
Aubrey couldn’t tear her gaze away. This was a side of Gunner she’d never seen—gentle, nurturing, almost…paternal.
“I wonder what that’s all about,” Aubrey mused, her curiosity piqued despite herself. She watched as Gunner guided the pair to a table, his hand resting protectively on the girl’s shoulder.
For a moment, their eyes met across the room. Gunner’s lips curved into a slow, easy smile that sent a jolt through Aubrey’s system. She quickly looked away, busying herself with glasses, all too aware of the heat rising in her cheeks.
But her brow furrowed as she tried to piece together the puzzle before her. What was Gunner doing with this girl and her mother? The tenderness in his interactions seemed so at odds with the brash, confident performer she knew.
“It’s not his kid.” Charly’s warm voice cut through her musings as she sidled next to her.
Aubrey raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her. “Oh?”
Charly leaned in. “That’s Emily and her mom, Sarah. Gunner’s mentoring Emily for the afterschool music program. Can you believe it? He’s helping her overcome stage fright.”
Aubrey’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“I know, right?” Charly grinned. “Turns out he’s got quite the soft spot for kids.”
As Aubrey processed this information, her gaze drifted back to Gunner. He was leaning in, demonstrating something on his guitar, Emily watching with rapt attention, holding on to hers.
“Interesting,” Aubrey murmured.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Aubrey reached for the pitcher of homemade iced tea she’d prepared earlier. “I should probably get them something to drink,” she said, more to herself than to Charly.
As she fixed their drinks, Aubrey found herself hyperaware of Gunner’s presence. The way his voice carried, low and melodic, as he explained chord progressions. The gentleness in his touch as he adjusted Emily’s fingers on her guitar neck.
Approaching the table, Aubrey plastered on her best hostess smile. “Thought y’all might be thirsty,” she said, setting down glasses of tea. “It’s my own special blend.”
Gunner looked up, those rebellious eyes catching hers. “Thanks, Aubrey,” he said, his voice warm.
Something in his tone made her pause, a flicker of…something…passing between them. Aubrey swallowed hard. “It’s my pleasure,” she managed, her voice steadier than she felt. As she turned to leave, she heard Emily’s shy “Thank you.”
Back behind the bar, Aubrey found herself stealing glances at the unlikely trio.
The easy camaraderie, the patient explanations, the proud smile on Gunner’s face when Emily got something right—it all painted a picture so different from the man she thought she knew.
A man that was so unlike her father, who had no part in her life whatsoever.
Twenty minutes later, Gunner rose from his seat, guitar in hand, and gestured toward the small stage at the far end of the bar. “Ready to give it a shot?”
Emily hesitated, her fingers tightening around her own instrument. “I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, eyes darting nervously around the mostly empty bar.
Aubrey found herself holding her breath, watching the scene unfold.
Gunner knelt beside Emily, his voice low but carrying in the quiet. “Remember what we talked about? It’s just you and the music. Everything else fades away.” He gestured toward the bar. “And the only people here are my friends. You can trust them all.”
As Emily nodded and took a shaky step toward the stage, Aubrey’s heart clenched. She recognized that fear, that overwhelming self-doubt. How many times had she felt it herself, facing a new challenge after school and in an unfamiliar kitchen?
The pair settled onto stools on the stage, adjusting their guitars. Gunner started a simple melody, his fingers dancing over the strings with practiced ease. He nodded to Emily, encouraging her to join in.
The girl’s first few notes were hesitant, barely audible. But as Gunner’s steady rhythm continued, Emily’s confidence grew. Their guitars blended, creating a sweet harmony that filled the air.
Aubrey leaned against the bar, mesmerized. She’d heard Gunner perform countless times, but this was different. The gentleness in his eyes, the patient nods as Emily found her rhythm—it all made a warmth spread through her chest.
As the impromptu duet continued, Aubrey found herself torn. The walls she’d built around her heart, reinforced by past hurts and disappointments, suddenly felt less impenetrable. “What if…?”
She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. But as Gunner’s eyes met hers over Emily’s bowed head, a familiar spark of connection passed between them. For just a moment, Aubrey allowed herself to see the man before her now, instead of the one that left her naked and alone in the hotel room.
And if she was honest with herself, she liked what she saw.