The Maverick's Summer Love. Christyne Butler
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a particular reason.”
Shelby had no doubt that was true. Nipping that reason in the bud was next on her to-do list. “Have a good night, boss.”
“Oh, honey, when my Sammy’s in town, it’s always a good night.” Rosey shot her a quick wink and then disappeared into the back.
Focusing her attention on the register, Shelby pressed the sequence of buttons to run the end-of-day reports and sent them to Rosey’s computer. She then logged off and shut down the machine.
No sense in putting off the inevitable, Shelby squared her shoulders and started back to the end of the bar.
“Oh, teacher, teacher…”
Shelby froze as Darlene Daughtry’s voice rang out across the bar. She looked over at the booth, spotting both her high school nemesis’s phony expression of innocence and the folded piece of white paper she fanned herself with.
Was that her letter? No, it couldn’t be!
“Oh, my bad. I guess I should have just called for a waitress.” Darlene’s pageant-practiced smile disappeared. “And you would have come running.”
Shock filled Shelby as she realized what Darlene held in her hand. Shock that gave way to a long-familiar, burning shame.
She hated that certain people in this town still had the ability to make her feel that way, after all these years, with just a few choice words.
For all her hard work, there were some things a person never stopped paying for no matter how much time had passed.
Refusing to give Darlene the satisfaction of rushing to the booth, but determined to get everyone out of this place, Shelby set her gaze straight ahead and kept walking, grabbing a nearby tray just so she’d have something to hang on to.
First things first.
Dean looked up as she approached. She expected to see a familiar flirty gleam in his eyes, the same look she’d seen so many times from so many others. His calm and steady gaze confused her, as did the still-unopened beer bottle in front of him despite the growing pile of peanut shells next to it. “Look, I know why you’re here. Not interested.”
“Excuse me?” He tapped the side of the bottle with one finger while cracking open another shell with a simple squeeze of his fist. “I just came in here for a beer.”
“Then I suggest you drink it because the bar is shut off and so am I.” Her mind flew back to the girl he’d been with last night. “Can I say it any plainer? I have zero interest in anyone who’s obviously already taken.”
He started to speak, but Shelby kept on walking. Rounding the end of the bar, she started for the booths, but a warm hand gripped her arm.
She spun around, jerking from his hold, an unnecessary move as he’d already let her go.
“You’re wrong,” Dean said.
The story of her life. “Am I?”
He moved in closer, his work-scarred boots snugging up against the tips of her sneakers. She automatically lifted the round tray to her chest, placing it between them, almost like a shield. Dean’s gaze dropped to the tray for a moment before he took a step back.
“I’m not taken.” He pressed a hand to the center of his chest as if to emphasize his words, his voice a low whisper. “Jazzy, the girl you saw me with last night, is an old friend from back home. She was having a rough time and just needed someone to talk to.”
Shelby pulled in a deep breath through her nose, fighting for control. It didn’t work. All she did was take in the clean, outdoorsy scent that seemed to radiate from this man, a scent that managed to make its way through the typical smoky and boozy odors of most who hung out in the bar.
Suddenly very tired, she was ready for everyone to leave. Including Dean Pritchett.
Grabbing the beer bottle off the bar, she pushed it against the back of his hand, forcing him to grab it before it crashed to the ground. “Well, I need to close up. Take your beer and find somewhere else to drink it.”
She spun away from him and stalked over to the booth where Darlene and her friends sat, ignoring how her heart hitched when she heard the Hole’s front door gently bang shut behind her.
“I’m afraid it’s closing time, ladies,” Shelby said with her best phony–customer service voice. “Are you all finished?”
“Hmm, are we finished?” Darlene spoke to her friends, ignoring Shelby as she propped a bent elbow on the table, her fingers tightened around a piece of paper in her hand.
“Oh, did you see the news today?” she continued, batting her mascara-heavy false eyelashes. “Preseason football starts this weekend. Isn’t that exciting?”
The other two smirked in unison. Shelby knew what was coming. The contents of the letter were just the tip of the sword that Darlene planned to jab right through her.
As much as Shelby tried to avoid any talk of the biggest news to hit Rust Creek Falls in decades, even with the flooding last month, it didn’t work. The extensive damage to the town had stemmed the tide a bit, but now things were looking better with the reconstruction going on, and suddenly everybody was a fan of a certain East Coast professional football team thousands of miles from here.
All because of local boy Zach Shute.
The best high school football player to come out of western Montana in years, Zach had graduated from college with a stellar career and was drafted in the first round. At twenty-four, he was a little bit older than most rookies, but his college days had been delayed for almost a year.
Thanks to Shelby.
“You must be very excited about Zach’s prospects.” Darlene looked at her now. “I heard professional ballplayers make very good money.”
All three girls turned to her and waited. “I wouldn’t know,” Shelby said, forcing the words out.
“Really? One would think you’d be the first in line to hit up that poor boy for a big fat check.” Her fingers relaxed and the letter fell to the table, soaking up the moisture from their now-empty glasses. “Seeing how your career as an educator seems to be over before it even started. but is that really such a surprise? Did you really think the town would want you teaching their children?”
Shelby’s fingers itched to snatch up the letter, but she wouldn’t give her old rival the satisfaction.
Not that it mattered. The contents had been short and sweet. Just two paragraphs telling her she’d been turned down for a teaching position at Rust Creek Falls Elementary School.
Despite the loss of the building in last month’s flood, the town was still planning to hold classes any way they could and now that she had her early-childhood education degree, she’d wanted to teach. Shelby had hoped a year in the local school system would add more cushion to her savings and give her some experience to help her find a job in a new city far away from Rust Creek Falls.
She’d done her student teaching in nearby Kalispell, but when she found out the elementary school had openings, she’d jumped at the chance to prove to everyone, to herself, that there was more to Shelby Jenkins than her dubious past.
None of that mattered now.
“I think it’s time for you all to leave.”
“Really?” The girl in the corner, Shelby couldn’t even remember her name, smirked. “We’re not the only ones still here, you know. What about that table of cowboys back in the corner? Why aren’t you kicking them out?”
“Probably because she wants to keep them all to herself.”
Darlene reached for her wallet and cell phone as the three of them scooted out from the booth. Shelby’s fingers gripped the drink tray so hard that she feared her bones would crack. She forced herself to take several steps back, putting