One of a Kind: Lionhearted / Letters to Kelly. Diana Palmer
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He looked as if he meant to say more, but the sad expression on her face stopped him. He pulled into her driveway and didn’t say another word until he stopped the truck at her front door.
“I know how you feel about the guy, Janie,” he said then. “But you can want something too much. Hart isn’t a marrying man, even if his brothers were. He’s a bad risk.”
She turned to face him, her eyes wide and eloquent. “I’ve told myself that a hundred times. Maybe it will sink in.”
He grimaced. He traced a pattern on her cheek with a lean forefinger. “For what it’s worth, I’m no stranger to unreturned feelings.” He grimaced. “Maybe some of us just don’t have the knack for romance.”
“Speak for yourself,” she said haughtily. “I have the makings of a Don Juanette, as Leo Hart is about to discover!” He tapped her cheek gently. “Stop that. Running wild won’t change anything, except to make you more miserable than you are.”
She drew in a long breath. “You’re right, of course. Oh, Harley, why can’t we make people love us back?”
“Wish I knew,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I had fun. I’m sorry you didn’t.”
She smiled. “I did have fun. At least I didn’t end up at the ball by myself, or with Dad, to face Leo and Marilee.”
He nodded, understanding. “Where is your dad?”
“Denver,” she replied on a sigh. “He’s trying to interest a combine in investing in the ranch, but you can’t tell anybody.” He scowled. “I didn’t realize things were that bad.”
She nodded. “They’re pretty bad. Losing his prize bull was a huge financial blow. If Leo hadn’t loaned him that breeding bull, I don’t know what we’d have done. At least he likes Dad,” she added softly.
It was Harley’s opinion that he liked Fred Brewster’s daughter, too, or he wouldn’t have been putting away whiskey like that tonight. But he didn’t say it.
“Can I help?” he asked instead.
She smiled at him. “You’re so sweet, Harley. Thanks. But there’s not much we can do without a huge grubstake. So,” she added heavily, “I’m going to give up school and get a job.”
“Janie!”
“College is expensive,” she said simply. “Dad can’t really afford it right now, and I’m not going to ask him to try. There’s a job going at Shea’s…”
“You can’t work at Shea’s!” Harley exclaimed. “Janie, it’s a roadhouse! They serve liquor, and most nights there’s a fight.”
“They serve pizza and sandwiches, as well, and that’s what the job entails,” she replied. “I can handle it.”
It disturbed Harley to think of an innocent, sweet girl like Janie in that environment. “There are openings at fast-food joints in town,” he said.
“You don’t get good tips at fast-food joints. Stop while you’re ahead, Harley, you won’t change my mind,” she said gently.
“If you take the job, I’ll stop in and check on you from time to time,” he promised.
“You’re a sweetheart, Harley,” she said, and meant it. She kissed him on the cheek, smiled, and got out of the cab. “Thanks for taking me to the ball!”
“No sweat, Cinderella,” he said with a grin. “I enjoyed it, too. Good night!”
“Good night,” she called back.
She went inside slowly, locking the door behind her. Her steps dragging, she felt ten years older. It had been a real bust of an evening all around. She thought about Leo Hart and she hoped he had the king of hangovers the next morning!
The next day, Janie approached the manager of Shea’s, a nice, personable man named Jed Duncan, about the job.
He read over her résumé while she sat in a leather chair across from his desk and bit her fingernails.
“Two years of college,” he mused. “Impressive.” His dark eyes met hers over the pages. “And you want to work in a bar?”
“Let me level with you,” she said earnestly. “We’re in financial trouble. My father can’t afford to send me back to school, and I won’t stand by and let him sink without trying to help. This job doesn’t pay much, but the tips are great, from what Debbie Connor told me.”
Debbie was her predecessor, and had told her about the job in the first place. Be honest with Jed, she’d advised, and lay it on the line about money. So Janie did.
He nodded slowly, studying her. “The tips are great,” he agreed. “But the customers can get rowdy. Forgive me for being blunt, Miss Brewster, but you’ve had a sheltered upbringing. I have to keep a bouncer here now, ever since Calhoun Ballenger had it out with a customer over his ward—now his wife—and busted up the place. Not that Calhoun wasn’t in the right,” he added quickly. “But it became obvious that hot tempers and liquor don’t mix, and you can’t run a roadhouse on good intentions.”
She swallowed. “I can get used to anything, Mr. Duncan. I would really like this job.”
“Can you cook?”
She grinned. “Two months ago, I couldn’t. But I can now. I can even make biscuits!”
He chuckled. “Okay, then, you should be able to make a pizza. We’ll agree that you can work for two weeks and we’ll see how it goes. You’ll waitress and do some cooking. If you can cope, I’ll let you stay. If not, or if you don’t like the work, we’ll call it quits. That suit you?”
She nodded. “It suits me very well. Thank you!”
“Does your father know about this?” he added.
She flushed. “He will, when he gets home from Denver. I don’t hide things from him.”
“It’s not likely that you’ll be able to hide this job from him,” he mused with a chuckle. “A lot of our patrons do business with him. I wouldn’t like to make more enemies than I already have.”
“He won’t mind,” she assured him with a smile. She crossed her fingers silently.
“Then come along and I’ll acquaint you with the job,” Jed said, moving around the desk. “Welcome aboard, Miss Brewster.”
She smiled. “Thanks!”
Chapter Five
Fred Brewster came home from Denver discouraged. “I couldn’t get anybody interested,” he told Janie as he flopped down in his favorite easy chair in the living room. “Everybody’s got money problems, and the market is down. It’s a bad time to fish for partners.”
Janie sat down on the sofa across from him. “I got a job.”
He just stared at her for a minute, as if he didn’t hear her. “You what?”
“I got a job,” she said, and smiled at him. “I’ll make good money in tips. I start tonight.”
“Where?” he asked.
“A restaurant,” she lied. “You can even come and eat there, and I’ll serve you. You won’t have to tip me, either!”
“Janie,” he groaned. “I wanted you to go back and finish your degree.”
She leaned forward. “Dad, let’s be honest. You can’t afford college right now, and if I went, it would have to be on work-study. Let me do this,” she implored. “I’m young and strong and I don’t mind working. You’ll pull out of this, Dad, I know you will!” she added gently. “Everybody has bad times. This is ours.”
He scowled. “It